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Title: The changing world and lectures to theosophical students. - Fifteen lectures delivered in London during May, June, and July, 1909
Author: Besant, Annie
Language: English
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The Changing World and Lectures to Theosophical Students
The Changing World
and
Lectures to Theosophical
Students
Fifteen Lectures delivered in London during
May, June, and July 1909
by
Annie Besant
President of the Theosophical Society
Chicago, Ill.
The Theosophical Book Concern
Room 426, 26 Van Buren Street
London, Eng.: The Theosophical Publishing Society
1910
_5000 printed August 1909_
_2500 ” April 1910_
_2000 ” November 1910_
Contents
PART I
LECTURES TO THE PUBLIC
_THE CHANGING WORLD_
LECT. PAGE
1. THE DEADLOCK IN RELIGION, SCIENCE, AND ART 1
2. THE DEADLOCK IN SOCIAL CONDITIONS: LUXURY AND WANT FACE
TO FACE 25
3. THE NEW DOORS OPENING IN RELIGION, SCIENCE, AND ART 47
4. BROTHERHOOD APPLIED TO SOCIAL CONDITIONS 75
5. THE COMING RACE 103
6. THE COMING CHRIST 132
7. THE LARGER CONSCIOUSNESS AND ITS VALUE 155
8. THE PLACE OF THEOSOPHY IN THE COMING CIVILISATION 183
PART II
LECTURES TO THEOSOPHICAL STUDENTS
1. THE SIXTH SUB-RACE 209
2. THE IMMEDIATE FUTURE 226
3. THE CATHOLIC AND PURITAN SPIRIT IN THE THEOSOPHICAL
SOCIETY: THE VALUE AND DANGER OF EACH 245
4. THE SACRAMENTAL LIFE 262
5. ADDRESS ON WHITE LOTUS DAY, 1909 279
6. THE NATURE OF THE CHRIST 297
7. THE THEOSOPHICAL STUDENT IN FACE OF REVELATION,
INSPIRATION, AND OBSERVATION 317
Part I
Lectures to the Public
The Changing World
Lecture I
The Deadlock in Religion, Science, and Art
Friends: if you stand on the seashore when the tide is flowing inwards,
and if you watch the waves as they ripple up, one after another, each
coming a little further than its predecessor, each in turn breaking and
making way for its follower—in the inflowing tide you have a picture of
the evolving races of mankind. And if you watch the method of the flow,
you will notice that that which is the most prominent at the moment
is not the one which creeps furthest up the sands. The wave which is
breaking into foam, which is rippling over the pebbles, which throws
up the broken water, which falls back on to the land and makes music,
sound, melody as it breaks—that is the wave which is nearly over; it
is the wave whose course is run. But if you watch you will notice that
while your attention was caught by the noise of the breaking wave, by the
foam of the billow that was almost over, silently, imperceptibly almost,
visible only to the eye that watches, another wave is rising behind it,
silently, without break, without noise, without attracting attention;
but the wave that is rising silently behind the breaker—that is the wave
which will follow on the billow that has broken, and will run further up
the sands than the breaking wave had gone.
In that familiar picture, which every child who has gone to the seaside
knows so well, is a figure of the great tide of evolution, in which races
are waves and the ocean humanity itself. And each great wave—the great
wave that comes at intervals—is a race, and the smaller waves that come
between are the sub-races which the race bears. Just as with the water,
so with humanity: as one sub-wave is breaking, having reached its highest
point, another is rising silently behind it, which shall rule the world
when the breaking wave has spent its force. Then, from time to time, to
those who have eyes to see, on the crest of the breaking wave appears the
mighty angel that we call the Spirit of the Age, and his feet are on the
wave, and his locks mingle with the rays of the sun, and he cries out in
a voice of thunder: Behold I make a new heaven and a new earth in which
righteousness shall dwell.
In such a day, in such a time, we of the present age are living. The wave
of the sub-race to which we all belong, or nearly all of us, _that_ is
breaking on the shore of time; the wave behind it of the race that shall
be, to whom the new heaven and the new earth shall be a habitation—_that_
is the race which is coming to the birth, which, in its turn, shall
rule this changing earth. For many and many a century, nay, even for
millennia, the slow course of evolution goes on quietly without much
observation, and then suddenly comes a change—a change of a dying and
a birthing race, a transition stage, a transition age in which all
movement is rapid, in which catastrophes are frequent, in which sudden
changes make themselves felt, in which men grow in a year more than their
forefathers grew perhaps in a century. In such a transition age again
the world is standing at the present time. Behind us, the long centuries
through which the great Aryan race has been sending out wave after wave
of humanity in successive billows, sweeping over Asia and over Europe,
one after another rising, growing, ruling, and then passing to its fall.
During all the time of a sub-race, the world rolls down what have been
called the grooves of change, steadily, quietly, without much of jolt or
of trouble; the wheels running fairly smoothly, continuously, with little
of shock. And then, again, the time comes when a new sub-race must be
born, when another shall succeed and the old shall pass away.
If you look around you now, on every side you will see the signs of a
closing age; thoughts which have reached a point beyond which they cannot
continue on the old lines and in the old methods, that which I have
called a deadlock; in all the most important departments of human thought
and human activity, rapid, extraordinarily rapid, growth. The changes
which the elder amongst us have seen are marvellous exceedingly, change
succeeding change, and each change greater than the one before it, until
the whole of society seems to be rushing onwards swiftly without a pause,
and men wonder what the next thought will be, what the next development
will forebode.
It is not, of course, for the first time in human history that such a
period as this has come upon the world. Look back to the time when the
sub-race preceding the Teutonic was at the zenith of its power, and see
then how troubled were the minds of men. It was the time that was marked
by the birth of Him who is known in western lands as the Christ—a period
of swift transition like our own, of marked and sudden changes. And if to
the people of that day you had said, as I am now saying to you: “You are
in one of the great transition periods of the world’s history; the race
that is dominant and imperial is really reaching its zenith, and after
the zenith comes the slow descent, inevitable, sure”; if you had said to
the people of the time that among them would come a mighty Teacher who
should revolutionise the future world and change the very foundations of
civilisation; who should change the type of religion for the foremost
races of the world; who should lift up a different ethical code, and
make that virtuous which before had been despised, and that which had
been looked down upon the topmost crown of saintship—if to the people of
that day you had spoken such words, they would have laughed at you as
dreamer or threatened you as madman. For why should the world change on
its appointed ways, and why should the feet of the world seek to tread
new and untrodden paths? And yet there were many who felt a change was
coming; yet there were prophets and seers who spoke of a coming kingdom
and a coming Teacher, and changes which should alter the face of the
world. Of little use to look back to those far-off times if you repeat in
your own day the blindness of the people then; for surely in these two
thousand years men should have learned something more of wisdom, their
eyes should have gained something more of insight, and the signs of a
closing age should be more palpable to them than in the days of their
forerunners in the closing age of Rome.
Even at that time a future was spoken of where changes should again
occur, where a great Teacher should again appear, where a new age should
be born, a new heaven and a new earth should be seen. It is in that next
transition age, then, that you and I are standing; and although many
of you may say, as they would have said of old, that I am a dreamer or
am mad, none the less will I strive to tell you this evening, and the
Sundays that follow, something of the signs by which you may judge for
yourselves whether a great change is not coming over the world, whether
there is not coming a new kingdom and a mighty Teacher, whether in our
days again, as in the days of the past, the world is not to take on a new
form and a nobler type of humanity to live and rule on earth, for many
are the signs of the age that is closing, and many the signs also of the
day that is dawning upon earth. In this and in the following lecture we
shall be dealing with the dying, not the race which is to be born; and if
in some ways, therefore, these two lectures may seem a little gloomy or
a little grey, then I would remind you that the night must come before
the dawn, and the greyness of the sky before the sunrising. If we can see
behind the greyness the first faint gleams of the rose-tipped fingers
of the dawn, ah! then we need not mind that the night is still with us,
for the night is closing, and we, the children of the day, shall see the
rising of the sun.
I have taken for this evening three great departments of human
thought—Religion, Science, Art; and our task now is to see whether,
looking over the world of religion, of science, and of art, we can find
that the old methods have carried us as far as we can go, that they are
breaking in our hands, that we no longer can use them for opening up new
vistas of thought and hope for man. On every side there is a feeling of
uncertainty, a feeling, I might almost say, of distress; a questioning
what is truth, what is reliable? where can we find some rock on which we
may put our feet amid all the buffeting of various opinions, of doubt,
nay, of scepticism and unbelief?
I.—RELIGION.
What is the position of the religious world to-day? First of all,
there have been working in it now for many long years certain forces
undermining the religion of the time; and when I speak now of religion, I
mean the religion of the West, for I am speaking in the West; although I
might show you that in other parts of the world as well the same forces
are at work, though not quite so prominently, and have brought about
there to some extent the same results. Now, it is not from the mouth of
a Theosophist like myself that I would ask you to take the testimony as
to the difficulties in which the religious world finds itself to-day, and
on the most important points of which I shall touch, after drawing your
attention to the destructive forces that have been undermining religion,
I shall take my testimony from bishop and from clergyman in their
published writings, which all may read who will. The undermining forces
that I allude to are chiefly three, and each destructive; the absence
of construction is one of the signs of the day that is closing. First,
as you know well, the undermining which has been done by scholarship
in Christendom, in which what is called the higher criticism has been
tearing to pieces the documents on which historical Christianity has been
built up—taking one after another, examining, studying, scrutinising,
comparing one kind of language with another kind in the same document;
pointing out marks of different ages where a single writer was supposed
to have been speaking, and gradually collecting from all sides different
readings, placing them side by side, and finding them to a very great
extent mutually destructive. So far has that gone, as you know, that, not
so very long ago, the whole of this line of investigation was condemned
by the authoritative head of the great Roman Catholic communion. The
higher criticism, the historical dealing with Church teaching and Church
history, the analysing, scrutinising, investigating spirit of our own
time—the whole of that, with all its results, has been condemned and
forbidden to be taught within the teaching establishments of the great
Roman communion; the results of historical criticism have been banned,
and, most fatal of all policies, kept largely out of the knowledge of
those who are to become the teachers of the generations that are to be
born. Is there any wonder, if you look at it only from the outside point?
For where religion is a matter of authority, of books, of successions, of
historical events, there criticism must always destroy; the form changes,
and cannot remain stable in a transitory world, and we find the ancient
documents shorn of their ancient value; we find inspiration, limited and
fettered to words instead of the spirit, failing to hold its own against
the critical scholarship of the day. One defence after another is thrown
up, only to be abandoned before the approaching tide, as children throw
up castles in the sand, dreaming that sand castles can stop the flow
of waves. You know, on every side questions have arisen in regard to
documents; most disheartening and discouraging if religion were a matter
of books and words, and not a matter of the living and divine spirit in
man, which no criticism is able to destroy. For, out of it all, thought
arises and all criticism itself has birth. But, for the moment, in that
tearing to pieces of the documents, one great inroad is made on the
religion of the time.
Then, if you turn to another destructive force that has been undermining
popular religion, you find it in archæological research; you find it in
what is called comparative mythology, built up out of the results of
that research; unburied cities, unburied libraries, unburied tombs—they
have all given up their longhidden secrets, and those secrets have
been used as weapons against the religion of the West. Dates have been
thrown overboard, hundreds of years have been lengthened into millions;
archæology, geology, antiquarianism of every kind, researches into
long-dead races have all given the same result, shaking the very
foundations on which it was thought, however wrongly, that religion
must be built. Out of all this undermining, this destruction, from the
continuously critical spirit of man, have arisen doubt and question
and half-scepticism, and only a hope instead of a knowledge, only an
aspiration instead of a living faith. And beyond those minor questions
of religion which can be touched by this kind of destructive criticism,
beyond and above those, the central ideas of religion have been thrown
into the Crucible of Reason. The idea of God Himself has been under
discussion, argued about, reasoned about, and the conception of God
has changed. Who now dreams of troubling himself much about Butler’s
_Analogy_? Who now would spend his time poring over Paley’s _Evidence_?
These are out of date, and they do not deal with the questions of the
time; for the thought of Evolution has affected religion, and the central
conception of Deity has not been able to escape the corrosion of that
atmosphere of thought. Here, again, outward demonstrations are failing,
outward reasonings fail to satisfy. Reason, though piled upon reason,
can give no more than a reasonable probability, so long as you watch
for God only in the outer world, and not in His highest manifestation,
the Spirit which lives in yourself. The idea of an extra-cosmic God is
gradually disappearing from the world of thought. The idea of a God who
made the universe as a piece of machinery, and stood outside it while
the wheels were turning and the bands were working—that idea has almost
passed away; and instead of that a God immanent in everything, a God who
is a life and not a mechanician, a God who is an informing Spirit and
not an outside creator—that nobler, more exquisite idea is dawning on
the religious world to-day. But still, to see Him only immanent in the
universe, that is not the final answer of religion; there is something
more that is needed than the God who is found within the universe
and within man, that mighty truth which is spoken out in an Eastern
scripture: “I established this universe with a portion of Myself, and I
remain.” That is one of the new avenues of thought, of escape from the
destructive forces of the thought that we are considering.
Along another of the great Christian concepts there is much of trouble
and of difficulty to-day. I take here, for a moment, one of a series of
remarkable articles that appeared in the _Hibbert Journal_ for January
last, one perhaps of the finest numbers that have been issued, dealing
with this question of the time. One of these articles has a strange title
which marks out the crux of many a mind to-day; the title is, “Jesus or
Christ?”; not “Jesus Christ,” not “Jesus and Christ,” but “Jesus _or_
Christ?”; natural enough if it were written by a Theosophist, but this
is written by a minister of a Christian church, and he confesses, with
wonderful candour and boldness, the difficulties that all must face who
are dealing on the one side with a spiritual ideal and on the other with
a man. He asks whether the claims made are on behalf of a spiritual
ideal, to which provisionally the word “Christ” may be applied, or
are they predicated of Jesus; he then goes through a number of these
difficulties (many of you would do well to read the article at your
leisure), pointing out in how many cases in the New Testament you come
across limitations, acceptance of the thought of the time, and many
other difficulties which clash with the idea that this was Very God of
Very God. “No condemnation,” he points out, “in the Sermon on the Mount
is passed on the harsh and cruel law of debtor and creditor, nor would
efforts for legal reform find any encouragement from the words attributed
to the Master here. On non-resistance and oath-taking the rule attributed
to Jesus is absolute. Yet, as a whole, Christendom has openly violated
it throughout its history.” He then speaks of the view which is taken of
man in relation to woman, of the “iniquitous principle of sex-inferiority
as against woman,” a principle that “has inflicted infinite suffering
on half of the human race.” And so he goes on, taking up point after
point, and declaring that this conclusion can no longer be avoided—that
to identify Jesus with Christ is to “make God a Being who is omnipotent,
yet limited in power; omniscient, yet defective in knowledge; infinitely
good, yet One who declines ‘to turn any part of His knowledge as God into
science for man.’ … It would be an abuse of language to say that this is
a mystery. It is flat contradiction.” Now when a clergyman can write like
that in a publication that goes almost exclusively among the educated
classes, you can realise how great is the difficulty which is confronting
modern thought with regard to the personality of Jesus and the larger
revelation of the Christ.
It is not possible that questions like this can remain always unanswered,
that they should ever be asked and no reply be found; Christendom
inevitably must work its way to some reasonable solution, and find how
in that marvellous personality there was a divine revelation as men have
hoped and believed, and how there is an answer, although orthodoxy as yet
may not be prepared to give it. And if you pass from religion proper,
as we may say, to the great domain of morals which is so closely bound
up with it, see how difficult is the position at the present time. Now,
since I was last here in London, you have had a Moral Education Congress,
to which no less than twenty-two of the European Governments sent their
best representatives. Intense interest was felt in the question of
education as part of religion or apart from it. It is one of the most
serious social questions of the day, one which society must answer: Shall
morals be based on religion and sanctioned by religion, or can they find
standing ground apart from, separate from it? Now, the ordinary popular
answer of the day is rather in favour of the second—that morals should
find an independent ground apart from the sanction of religion. And
that is not unnatural, because the quarrels of religious bodies, their
disputes over the question of education, have practically wearied the
mind of England, and men and women get impatient with the struggles over
trivialities where the moral training of tens of thousands of boys and
girls, the future citizens of the country, is concerned. If you take
that Moral Education Congress, the point was put very strongly and very
plainly. Here, again, in this number of the _Hibbert_ that I am dealing
with, we find a very brief article speaking of that and of the relation
of education to religion; and the writer speaks of one remarkable speech
at the Education Congress, in which it was declared that while children
should be taught “the respect due to the idea of religion … they are to
be taught that the chief mode of honouring God consists in each doing
his duty according to his conscience and his reason.” Now that is a
statement that would find very wide acceptance at the present day, and
yet its value or its lack of value depends on two words, “conscience”
and “reason.” If the conscience be unenlightened, there will be very
little useful service done to man by the boys and girls who follow that
conscience as men and women. The enlightened conscience is truly the
foundation of a State, but the unenlightened may lead men into every
kind of crime. The inquisitor followed his conscience when he racked the
heretic and sent him to the stake. Laud followed his conscience when
he persecuted, tortured, mutilated Puritans who would not bow before
him. Conscience has committed the greatest crimes against nations and
against individuals; conscience must be enlightened before it is a safe
guide. And so also with reason. If the reason is developed, illuminated,
cultured, trained, that reason might indeed, be followed along the path
of life; but a reason that is not exercised according to the laws of
logic and right thinking may be as irrational as though the name of
reason were not applied to it. It is not enough to teach that men should
follow conscience and reason unless you train the reason and illuminate
the conscience.
Now, how is that to be done? It has been done in the past by religion
to a very great extent. Can society afford to try to teach morals apart
from religion? Difficulties naturally arise here, and the Bishop of
Tasmania has very bravely drawn the attention of the empire to the
difficulty which is in the face of religious teaching. He points out that
the Old Testament is not a book which, as a whole, can be used for the
instruction in morals of the Christian child. Can the Old Testament, he
asks, be used in that way? and the answer is in the negative. He points
out that you can find in the Old Testament magnificent moral passages
and splendid moral inspiration, but that is by a process of selection,
in which you apply the moral conscience to discrimination in ancient
writings. Bishop as he is, he is brave enough to declare that the Old
Testament as a whole ought not to find its place in the education of
the child. Now, suppose that we admit—and most thoughtful people would
admit—that you must select and choose carefully, that is not a sufficient
answer to the question. Can you effectively teach the child morals
without falling back upon religion? Are you prepared to admit that you
can teach a certain class of virtues without religious sanction; not
those which are the favourite virtues, we may say, of the present day
of competition and of struggle? You can teach a child to be prudent,
thrifty, cautious; you can teach him the value of acquisitiveness, and
the duty of providing for the future. All that kind of virtue you may be
able to teach on a purely utilitarian ground, as it is called, but, as is
again pointed out in a remarkably able article on “The Social Conscience
of the Future,” certain old-fashioned traits, once considered to be
virtues, are now commonly accounted to men for vices. Non-resistance, for
example, “is now considered cowardice; meekness to-day is usually spelt
weakness; taking no thought for the morrow is known as improvidence;
unworldliness is generally viewed as a phase of sentimentality.” That
is all quite true. But how are you going to teach the virtues that
hitherto have been rooted in religion—virtues without which no State can
endure? For you cannot teach the civic virtues on a basis of enlightened
selfishness. That is a point that all educators of the young must
remember. Self-sacrifice, compassion, the willingness to endure for the
sake of others, the taking of the burden of the weak on the shoulders
that are strong, the realisation that duty is greater than rights, and
responsibility more vital than self-protection—how are you going to teach
those virtues on the basis of selfishness? Now I have argued that in the
old days, and have tried to show, in the time when I was a sceptic, that
you might train people to self-sacrifice and self-surrender by an appeal
to the humanity within them, and the sense of duty to the race; but that
appeal fails the most readily in the cases where the virtues are most
required.
It appeals to the noble, but the majority are not noble; it appeals to
the unselfish and the heroic, but the majority are of mediocre courage
and of very limited unselfishness; it appeals to those who do not need
it, and it leaves cold and unmoved those who need it most. Will you go
to the millionaire who has built up his vast fortune by the ruin of
hundreds of families, and speak to him of the beauty of self-sacrifice
and the splendour of self-surrender? The answer of people of the selfish
type is: Why should I sacrifice myself for the future? or, as the
witty Frenchman put it: “What has posterity done for me that I should
sacrifice myself for posterity?” You may say that is very mean, very
selfish. It is; but then, those are the people who want the compulsory
force of moral strength applied to them. Where are you going to find it?
For without self-sacrifice no society is secure; without self-surrender
of the small to the great, of the individual to the social self, there
is no possibility of national life, no stability in the social system;
and those are virtues that grow out of religion, not out of what is
falsely called utility. The greatest utility for the nation is that which
understands the relationship between the part and the whole, and that is
only taught by religion which knows the larger Self, which knits man to
the whole, makes him realise relationships, makes him know he is not a
creature of one little globe, but a creature of the universe; that he is
a cosmic life, and not a planetary. That is learned by religion only, and
by the deathless immortality of the divine Spirit in man; without that,
no morality will endure; and you will make a fatal blunder if, because of
the passing follies of religionists, you throw religion out of its place
in education, of which it is the inspiration and the strength.
These are some of the problems you have to deal with in this deadlock,
as I have called it, of religion. In fact, you want a new religious and
moral synthesis; and you cannot find that without the higher inspiration
for which man is groping now.
II.—SCIENCE.
Let us leave that deadlock—(I will try to solve it in another
lecture)—and let us take the deadlock in science. Now that is very
curious at the present time. Science is essentially in the West, as it
is everywhere, a matter of observation, of measurement, of estimating
quantities and understanding relations. But our science is coming to the
end of its powers along these lines in a very curious and marked way. It
cannot get its apparatus more delicate than it has got it; its balances
are marvels, measuring inappreciable parts of an almost inappreciable
grain. Nothing more exquisite than the delicacy of scientific apparatus,
nothing more a testimony to the accuracy of the scientific mind. And
yet how the apparatus is failing the scientist! how his observations
are becoming increasingly difficult! What can he do with the atom? The
chemist, the physicist, can he follow the atom and make that still a
matter of observation, or does it wholly escape him? is the chemist,
the physicist, now obliged to turn to the mathematician to make for him
an atom which will answer the demands of the science which is unable
to discover it for itself? All the later arguments on the atom, if you
notice, are based on mathematical formulæ; they cannot observe; it is too
fine, delicate, minute—it escapes them. Even the chemical atom, which is
four degrees below the ultimate physical atom, is a matter on which they
are compelled to reason because they cannot observe. But a science which
reasons without those reasons being based on observations is no science
as the West has known it up to the present time. All scientific reasoning
is supposed to be based on observation; and if, instead of that,
scientists have to fall back on reason where observation fails them,
then a new method must be discovered, and new ways must be trodden. I
do not say there is no new method; I do not say there are not new ways;
but they are not the methods and the ways of the science of our own time.
And there comes in this difficulty: the minute is escaping science by
its minuteness, the subtle is too subtle for its investigation. If that
be true—and it is true of chemistry and physics, and true also to a very
great extent of electricity—we find that all the sciences are coming up
to the borderland in which their methods fail them, and their senses no
longer answer to the delicacy of the waves that beat upon them from the
outer world. They are leaving behind them the gross and the dense; that
is conquered, it is theirs; the subtle and the rare, those escape them;
and the instruments of brass, of glass, nay, even of sensitive needles,
they are not fine enough nor subtle enough to carry investigation further.
In other realms of science the same difficulties are arriving.
Psychology—where have all the facts of the new psychology come from?
From scientific men? Not a bit of it! From frauds and charlatans, from
mesmerists and spiritualists and theosophists, and all these “ists”
that popular science looks down upon and says are entirely outside the
pale of scientific respect. And yet from these they gather their facts,
from these they are obliged to take the strange new psychological facts
that are revolutionising all the ideas of consciousness and the powers
which lie hidden in the human mind. Those facts are accumulating from
the hands of all these improper people, and when science gets them it
cannot explain them. It can only rearrange them and rename them, and
call mesmerism “hypnotism,” and clairvoyance “autoscopy.” But all that
relabelling and all that rearranging cannot veil the fundamental fact
that it has no theory into which these facts can fit, and no explanation
which arranges them in a rational order. In psychology, as in chemistry,
physics, and electricity, there is a deadlock.
And medicine, what about that? Doctors are beginning to think less and
less of drugs. In my young days an honest doctor once told me that he
sometimes gave coloured water and bread pills to people whom he knew
would get on much better if they did not have drugs, but they were so
determined to have them that he was obliged to give them something so
he gave them harmless things. That idea has grown. Doctors have less
and less faith in drugs, and they admit more and more widely that their
medical science is very largely a hand-to-mouth thing, empirical, based
on no true theory—experimental, as they say. But, in despair of finding
the right road to health, they have gone down the terrible byway of
Vivisection, trying to wring from Nature, by the torture of her more
helpless children, the secrets which otherwise they were unable to find.
But that is a fatal road; it is leading medicine further and further
away from any true science of healing, and is turning it into a science
of poisoning instead; medicine is becoming a matter of balancing one
poison against another, so that in the middle of the balanced poisons
you may be able to get some miserable remnant of health. When doctors
find something they do not understand, they say: “Oh, let us try it on an
animal; better try it on an animal than a man.” Yes; but if the animal
does not give the same result, and if that which is poison to man is
not poison to the animal, then the results of your experiment may be a
widespread, unintentional poisoning added to the intentional poisonings
of the day. There comes in one danger, that perhaps may make people
rather less ready to take the results of vivisection. Take henbane: goats
feed quite comfortably on henbane; it would kill you. If, when people
wanted to know the effects of henbane on the human system, they tried it
on goats, many human deaths would have followed on the result of that
particular use of the experimental method. What is being done with all
these miserable results of this mistaken and blinded science, all these
serums and toxins, and all the rest of the things which they are now
pouring into the human body? They are lowering the vitality of the race;
they are diminishing the disease-resisting power of the man. I do not say
that you cannot make a man immune for a time by slowly poisoning him,
so that when a dose of the poison comes it will have no effect. You can
do it with arsenic; you can put so much arsenic into a human body that
the arsenic-poisoned person can take a dose of arsenic without death.
Do you tell me that is health? I say it is disease, and that all these
miserable methods are lowering the vitality of the human body, and making
it a prey to innumerable diseases under the pretence of saving it from a
few. Health is not got by poisonings, however carefully graduated. Health
is brought about by pure living, pure food, moral self-control, and by
becoming the master and not the slave of your appetites and passions. It
is a road that leads to death, and not to life, when you want to live
evilly, and be cured of the results of evil living out of the things
which are wrung from the tortured bodies of the animal kingdom. And
so there again there is a deadlock, for even the vivisectionists are
beginning to be a little afraid of the results that they have drawn from
their investigations. There are answers to the problems of disease, but
they do not lie along this line.
III.—ART.
What of art? Now, very many people, I am afraid, in this and other
countries, do not realise that beauty is a necessity of daily life for
the human being, and when he does not get it he is less man, less woman,
than he ought to be. It is not a question as to whether you should have
a beautiful thing as a luxury; it is a necessity, and it should be the
daily bread of life. Nations which knew the value of beauty made their
towns beautiful; their works of art were made common property, their
buildings were exquisitely proportioned, their architecture magnificent,
and out of all that, open always to the masses of the people, grew a
beauty of form and a beauty of mind that cannot possibly grow up in
a nation where the towns are allowed to be hideous, where the air is
poisoned, and where all the common things of life are ugly instead of
beautiful. There is one thing in India that I have often complained of;
it will not strike you here so much as it would inevitably strike you
there. The old Indian life was a life full of beauty. Even now, out in
the villages, life is beautiful. The garments of men and women alike are
graceful, flowing, exquisite in colour. If you see an Indian peasant
woman working in the fields she is a picture to paint, for the grace
of her drapery, for the beauty of the colours that she wears; and if
you see her going to the village well to draw water, she will carry on
her head some vessel, it may be of beaten bronze or copper, it may be
of kneaded clay, it will always be beautiful in form and exquisite in
colour, Nowadays, since our civilisation has spread its power through
India, things are changing; aniline dyes are replacing vegetable dyes;
kerosene oil tins are replacing the exquisite vessels of the older days.
In the old days in a village, when there was a wedding, every house
contributed some of its beautiful vessels for the village festival; but
now those have been cast aside, and miserable tin vessels take their
place. It is only a small thing, you may say; I assure you it is a very
great thing; for to kill out the sense of beauty which comes by living
in contact with Nature—for Nature is beautiful everywhere, and contact
with her beautifies the human face and form and mind—the killing-out of
that sense of beauty which grows out of the mountains and the rivers,
and the meadows and the groves, that is a national loss, and spells
national decay. The garden cities you are beginning to build, those
are not mere fancies of fanciful people, but a wise attempt to get the
people out of the hideousness of bricks and mortar as they are used in
England, into the country, where life still is fair, and where sunshine
and colour are supreme. The life is poor where there is no beauty, and
life itself grows common, vulgar, where beauty is not a dominating force.
It is one of the great revelations of God Himself, for beauty lies in
perfection of harmony, in exquisiteness of outline, in loveliness of
colour, and all those things are characteristics of the Divine Workman,
whose manifestation is always in beauty, while wisdom and power underlie
it. You may see it in your own works of art. They are not creative but
imitative, and that is the sign that art along that line has reached its
ending and must find a new inspiration. Sometimes people say you cannot
improve upon Nature; but you can show them what there is in Nature which
the blinded eyes of ordinary people do not see. Take a flower: true, the
flower is beautiful; a little nature-spirit made it, and caught as much
of the divine thought of beauty as that small intelligence was able to
conceive; do you tell me that when the artist comes the divine life is
not far more largely evolved in him than in that little nature-spirit,
that he cannot catch more of God’s thought in the flower than the
nature-spirit was able to express? And that is what the great painter,
poet, musician does; he hears and sees and tells the thoughts of God more
fully than you and I can do with our dull ears and our limited vision and
our clumsy tongues. It is there, but we cannot see it. The artist is the
revealer of the divine beauty in form, and unless he can do that he is no
true artist at all. The artist has yet to come to this civilisation—the
man who can see through the forms of the present the divine idea which is
striving to express itself in new ideals, new hopes, new powers. These
are wanted for art, and these shall come in the days that are dawning;
and a new art shall be found in the new heavens and the new earth.
So, although I have taken you to-day along a dreary path—for I have been
speaking of the passing, and not the coming—it is because I want you to
realise in the signs of the world around you that you are in the midst
of a closing age; not only that you may know it—that is little—but that
out of the knowledge of the closing you may prepare for the race which
is to be born. For unless you understand, you cannot guide your steps
aright; unless you understand, the world will be a mere puzzle, and not
an expression of the divine thought. The age that is closing has done its
work, has trained the concrete mind, has trained the scientific thought,
has developed power and strength and energy—all good gifts of God, to be
used for nobler purposes than they are used for to-day. There is nothing
to regret, nothing to be sorry for, nothing to wish otherwise in the
world that is dying. It has done its work; but it is ours to come out of
the dying world into a world that is new, and it is out of the dying into
the coming world that I would fain try to lead your thoughts, and perhaps
your lives as well.
Lecture II
The Deadlock in Social Conditions: Luxury and Want Face to Face
Friends: I am to speak to you to-night on a subject which is a little
outside our ordinary theosophical lectures. The Theosophist, as a rule,
studies and talks about causes more than effects, concerning himself
more with the getting rid of the causes of misery than with the effects
that grow out of those causes and show themselves as particular forms
of misery. Because of that he is sometimes called unpractical. But that
is a misuse of words; for to understand the causes of misery and to
remove them is far more practical than cutting off the tops of the weeds
while you allow the roots to remain underground to reproduce new weeds
to-morrow. To say that study with the discussion which grows out of it is
unpractical is very much as though you declared that it was a practical
thing to send out nurses and doctors to a field of battle to cut off
limbs that had been shattered and to nurse the cripples back to health,
and denied that to try to remove the causes of war was practical. Now,
I admit that sending out nurses and doctors is a practical thing, but
I allege that to work for the substitution of arbitration for war is a
great deal more practical. So with the particular things with which I am
to deal to-night. I am dealing with effects, but only with a view to lead
you on to the study of causes, and to the fundamental changes that will
have to be made in the building up of a greater and nobler civilisation.
Part of the way to turn men’s minds in that direction, and to give them
the necessary impulse of working for the higher and the greater, is to
show them the intolerable nature of conditions among which we are living
to-day. In doing that, I am by no means going astray from the teaching
and the example of that great and misunderstood woman to whom I owe all
that is happiest and best in my life, H. P. Blavatsky. Some of you who
are students of Theosophy may remember that in her _Key to Theosophy_
she speaks about the misery of the East End of London, and utters words
of praise for the attempts which were being made to change it. She did a
good deal more than speak words of praise; for one day, after I had been
telling her of some of the piteous sights that I was seeing day by day as
member of the London School Board, as it was then, for the East End of
London, I had on the following morning a little characteristic note, in
which she enclosed a couple of sovereigns, saying: “You know I am only
a pauper, but give these to the little children who asked you yesterday
for a flower.” Similarly, that quick sympathy with human suffering came
out in an instance in which very few of us, perhaps, would be prepared
to follow her example. She was going to America, and only had just money
enough to buy her ticket across; she bought it, and on the wharf she
saw a crying woman with some little children. She asked why they were
distressed, and the woman told how she had bought bogus tickets from some
scamp, and so could not go across the ocean to join her husband. H. P.
B. walked back to the ticket office, got her first-class ticket changed
for steerage tickets for herself and that unfortunate woman and children,
and passed the voyage in the steerage part of an Atlantic liner—a very
practical proof of the brotherhood which she proclaimed. So that, after
all, I am not really going very far apart in taking up this particular
subject of human misery and human suffering, showing you, what I dare say
you know well enough, some of the cases which should stimulate to action.
And if you say to me: It is an old story that you are telling us; then my
answer to you will be that until the evils are remedied it is necessary
to repeat the story over and over again.
Now let us look over this great civilisation, and see what I have called
“The Deadlock in Social Conditions.” First let us remember, as a kind of
preliminary atmosphere, that the great civilisations of the past have
perished from this startling contrast of luxury and misery, and that what
has happened over and over again in the past might quite well repeat
itself amongst us to-day. For we are no stronger in our civilisation
than were the civilisations of Rome, of Assyria, of Egypt; and we find
in the Egyptian civilisation just the same sort of questions arising
then as arise now, as though the world really had not progressed in
this respect. In some of the unburied tablets and sculptures we find an
edict about the wages of the workpeople, and how they were to be told
not to be discontented, and not to refuse to work because they were
dissatisfied with the amount of wage that they obtained; and in another
case we find directions being sent in order to meet the difficulties
that had been caused by what we in our own time should call a strike of
working people. The difficulties are very old, and the world has not yet
solved them. It is in the hope that the coming civilisation will solve
them that I am drawing your attention again to them to-night. Now even
here we have what we call our submerged classes, and those form one-tenth
part of the population—a terrible proportion if you come to think of
it. Sometimes, when there has been a mutiny in an army, a regiment is
drawn up rank after rank, and every tenth man is marked out to be shot
while the others go free. That is the condition of our civilisation
now—every tenth person is marked out to misery. In India the proportion
is even larger. The submerged classes there amount to one-sixth of the
population, but, on the other hand, they are not nearly as miserable as
are the corresponding classes here: they are more despised, but they are
far happier, partly because the belief in which they have grown up, under
the thousands of years that lie behind them in that civilisation, has
ever been that a man’s condition in the present is due to causes that
he himself has set going in the past. So that those people, instead of
blaming their neighbours, blame themselves for the discomfort of their
own position, and sometimes determine that their next birth shall be a
happier one by making the very best they can of the disadvantages here.
Then again, poverty there is really not as terrible as here; you read of
a famine that sweeps away hundreds of thousands of the people, but is
that really so very much more terrible than the continual condition of
underfeeding in which our submerged classes live? The Registrar-General
does not mark them down “Died of Starvation”—that would be shocking the
public taste; but if you look into the matter you will see that when the
starved sempstress going home carrying her work is struck by an east
wind that whistles through her thin clothing and strikes on her underfed
body, she is put down in the report as “Died of pneumonia, bronchitis,
or consumption,” but in karma’s record she is marked down “Died of
starvation,” for it is the perennial underfeeding that brings about the
great mortality among the poor. I need only take a very few cases as
examples in order to show you what this poverty means. I have taken them
out of casual papers during the last week: from my own experience of the
past I know them not to be exaggerated, but these particular cases happen
to be going on just now. One of them is the case of the women who sew on
cards the hooks and eyes which we buy very cheaply in the shops. Such a
woman sews nearly 47,000 hooks and eyes for 1s. 2½d.—a thousand almost
per farthing. Think what it means. Naturally she pulls in her children
to help her; and so the children, who are obliged to go to school, for
we have compulsory education, when they come back from learning their
lessons have to sit down and set to work linking the hooks and the eyes
together so as to save a little of the mother’s time, and the children,
who ought to be playing and building up strong and healthy bodies, are
kept there hour after hour preparing the hooks and eyes for which the
mother is to receive the princely payment that I have mentioned. Take
another case that everybody knows—shirt-making: 1s. a dozen for men’s
shirts, and there is a fair amount of work in those; even that is not
the lowest depth, for the woman who takes them out to make at 1s. per
dozen lets them out again at 8d. per dozen to a woman more miserable
than herself. And so the thing goes on, home after home, person after
person. This and the preceding case I am taking from the last issue of
_The Christian Commonwealth_. Another case is mentioned there of a woman
who had been working along these lines; her particular work, I think,
was 5d. per dozen for collars, and find your own thread. She was brought
up as a typical case before the Royal Commission. We are always ready to
appoint Royal Commissions, but not very much comes out of them after they
have taken evidence. She was asked by a Member of Parliament: “How do you
and your children live on what you get in this way?” “We don’t live,”
was the answer of the woman, and she spoke truly. She worked sometimes
twenty hours a day, from six o’clock in the morning till two o’clock next
morning, in order to get enough to feed her children and herself. I could
go on for hours giving you cases like this, but I only want typical ones,
in order that you may realise the conditions in which so many are living
while we are comfortable and at ease.
Pass on from that part of this terrible poverty which nothing apparently
is able to touch to the next question that links itself very easily to
what I have been saying—woman labour in general, and especially in many
of the manufacturing industries. When women began to work at mills, and
so on, it was looked upon as a good way for the women to add something
to the comfort of the home. How has it worked? It has worked to drive
down the wages of the men, and make the home more miserable even in money
matters than it was before; and then the home has ceased to be a home,
for there is no home where the mother leaves the children behind her,
and goes out into the mill to earn the pence or the shillings wherewith
those children are to be fed. It has been encouraged for the reason
that a manufacturer gave very honestly and frankly before another Royal
Commission. “Oh,” he said, “I prefer to employ married women because
they are more docile.” That is true. The married woman is very much more
docile because, when the question of any resistance comes, she thinks
of the children who need food in the home. The baby hands are the hands
that make her docile; it is the baby fingers feeling her bosom for the
milk that will not come that makes the mother’s heart docile, yielding
to everything for the sake of the little child. It has only made the
complications of the labour market worse; it has only driven the men out
to be unemployed in the streets, while they who ought to be mothers in
the home are working in the factory instead. So the labour market only
becomes more choked, the wages are rendered yet more miserable, and the
men are thrown out while the women are employed, though the men cannot
take the woman’s place in the home, and take care of the babies and look
after the little ones; only a mother can do that, for nature has made
mothers for that work, and the father cannot take their place, however
gentle and loving he may be. So you get another problem there, hard to
solve, difficult to set right, and one that is ever growing more and more
pressing for solution, that is ever intensifying the misery of large
numbers of the working population.
Pass on, again, from that—you see I am only touching each point—and
take a question of national import, the deterioration of the physique
of the people who live in our large cities. That has been going on now
for generations, and it has been shown very plainly in the lowering
standard of height for enlistment in the Army. On the other hand, if
you look at the well-to-do classes you will find rather an increase
in strength and physique amongst them, especially amongst the women,
because these take so much more part in outdoor life than they did in
the past, and so you find they are growing taller and stronger, but the
great mass of the population is growing shorter and weaker. But it is
that great mass of the population from which the majority of your nation
comes. They reproduce most rapidly; they are the people who swell the
Registrar-General’s returns; from them the future nation is most largely
produced; and it is no good to have upper classes strong and vigorous
and well-fed if the mass of your population is deteriorating in strength
and vigour. There, again, you have one of these pressing problems which
it is necessary to answer; for these problems are like the questions
of the Sphinx: the Sphinx put the question, and if the man could not
answer it, the Sphinx devoured him. And so with these problems in social
organisation; the question is put, and the penalty for not answering is
to be devoured, and for the civilisation to pass away.
Remedies of sorts are being put forward by doctors and sociologists;
sterilisation of the unfit is one of the favourite nostrums or quack
remedies of the day. But such remedies are worse than the disease, for
they are brutal, and lead to deterioration of _morale_ as well as of
physique. You must go down to the root of the causes that make these
the unfit, and not bring them forth from the social organisation by the
myriad, and then try to find means to check their numbers; and so on that
side, again, this insoluble difficulty is facing us.
Even these are not all the problems which are set for us by our Sphinx
for which solution is demanded. We have seen terrible poverty, we have
seen the question of woman employment, we have seen the question of
deterioration of physique and swift multiplication of the unfit: what
about the criminal population? We manufacture habitual criminals at a
very rapid rate. We take up young men or young women, and we send them
to jail for a week, a month, a year, five years, ten years. It goes
on accumulating until the habitual offender gets sentences which will
outlast his physical life. But that has done nothing to cure the man,
that has done nothing to turn him into a good and useful citizen. The
law, when it grips him, ought to turn him into a better type of man.
Instead of that, he comes back over and over again, until the very
habitual criminality that the law has very largely made is brought up as
a reason for the magistrate to inflict upon him a heavier penalty. But
that is not wisdom; it is folly. Very often a bright, clever lad, full
of spirit, falls into crime. It is only one chance in a hundred if he
is rescued, and does not gradually drift into the ranks of the habitual
criminal. Surely at this stage of civilisation there must be some better
way; and there is a better way, as I shall try to show you when I come to
deal with brotherhood applied to social life.
If we go beyond these extreme cases, and look at the ordinary questions
of supply and demand, of production and distribution, notice how society
is gradually coming to a point where things cannot go on as they
are, and yet where to change them means the dislocation of our whole
productive and distributive system. We can see it best, perhaps, if we
go to America, because in America there are not the softening influences
which to some extent at least still prevail here, where society was once
based on a more human foundation, instead of merely on the question of
cash. We see what our systems are if we go over the water to America,
where they have full play, without anything to prevent their complete
development. There are one or two things that strike us in America of a
rather remarkable character. First, the growth of the man who builds his
own enormous fortune on the deliberate wrecking of the small fortunes of
others. Let me give an example. A large number of people, mostly rather
poor, gather together into a company in order to build a railway that
is wanted for the development of the country where they are. They want
quicker communication, they want better carriage of grain, of goods, and
they build a railway. It is working fairly well, it is paying, perhaps
not very largely, but still fairly satisfactorily. A much cleverer
man than those people comes along, and he sees that that particular
district is one that is likely to open up to a very large extent—one
where railways will become most valuable property. He sets to work to
build another railway that runs over the same ground as the first; it
is not wanted except to make him rich. He then begins to destroy the
other railway by charging smaller fares and lower freightage; he goes on
doing that, putting in his capital, because his rates do not pay, until
the other railway is driven down to the impossible level at which he
has fixed prices and fares: when the shares of that other railway have
sunk down to nearly nothing in the market, he steps in and buys them
all up; when he has bought them all up he lets his sham railway go to
pieces, and the whole of the district is in his hands, and he piles up an
enormous fortune. On the other side of his fortune is the loss to all the
shareholders who put their money into that railway in order to improve
the means of communication in the place where they were living. They have
been sacrificed that he might make enormous wealth. Such men are called
“wreckers” in America, but they are honoured in society; they build
hospitals, and even churches; they do all kinds of things with fragments
of the wealth that they have taken; but I tell you that, although not by
the law of the country, yet by the law of righteousness, these men are
worse and more to be condemned than the burglar who steals the jewels of
a lady or the gold plate of a millionaire. He is punished heavily when he
is caught, and he deserves to be punished; burglary is obviously wrong;
but worse than that open burglary that the law punishes is the hidden
burglary of the brilliant brain against the stupid brain, which robs
people of the result of their labour in order to accumulate it within the
wrecker’s store.
Other forms of this robbery are what are called “trusts” and “corners.”
They have been trying, I see, to make a corner in wheat, and another
speculator has been able to checkmate the original speculator by pouring
in millions of bushels of wheat. But people are not fed any better
whichever speculator wins; it is only a problem as to which of the two
should be able to make the largest profits; and then the trusts are built
up, whereby a few men are able to make enormous fortunes and kill out all
the smaller men. Now our American brethren are getting a little tired of
that, and they are trying to find out some way in which they can prevent
it—some Act of Congress, some law which should prevent the trust. But
what law can you possibly pass to prevent the trust, which is only the
natural outcome of competition gone mad? What can you do to prevent that
without crippling also every one of your industrial concerns which are
based on the same principle of cut-throat competition? There is where
the deadlock comes in again. The whole thing is built up on one man
fighting against another, one man trying to overreach another, one man
trying to make better bargains for himself, no matter what happens to his
neighbour—that is the whole method of what we call our commercial system.
If that be so, how are you going to interfere with its natural outcome,
with the inevitable result which grows out of it?—the same principle,
only carried a little to excess, and so shocking the conscience that
was not shocked when people were ruined piecemeal, but is shocked when
they are ruined by hundreds and by thousands; yet each one of those who
were ruined piecemeal suffered as much, his lot was as unfortunate. How,
then, can you cripple the excess without undermining the whole? There is
another of the problems which are set, and yet in the very midst of it
there is a gleam of a brighter future, for in that great alchemy with
which the mighty Chemist of the world’s laboratory changes the forces
that destroy into forces that construct, there are signs that these
trusts which have grown out of the greed and selfishness of men will
really be organisations of industry which will be useful to the community
in the future, when Brotherhood has replaced competition, and when
thought for others takes the place of only thinking for oneself. And so
we see possibilities even in the midst of the troubles.
Let us glance at another side of this problem—the attempts which are
being made to improve social conditions in newer countries, as they
are called, say, Australia. In Australia the working classes have got
everything that they are asking for here; it is called the working-man’s
paradise. Every boy of twenty-one can vote; think of the magnificent
freedom of it! Every girl of twenty-one can vote; what more would you
have? No need of agitation there. But, unluckily, the boys care much
more about football than they do about questions in Parliament, and
the girls, perhaps, are thinking more of bonnets and hats than of the
way in which their votes ought to be cast. They have all got the vote
and they do not know what to do with it, and that is a very common
thing. It does not occur only in Australia. Has it ever struck you that
you are paying in happiness for what you call liberty, if you mean by
liberty the right to cast a vote? No matter what your qualifications,
that is quite outside the question; no matter whether you know anything
about the questions, that is not of the least importance; no matter if
your head is as empty as ever it can be, it counts just as much at the
polling-booth as the head of the wisest statesman, thinker, most highly
trained economist or historian. It is an admirable way of governing when
you come to look at it from the outside standpoint. Let us see how it
works in Australia where they have it: you have not got it yet; you are
on the way to it. All these people have votes, and the great majority, as
is always the case, are ignorant. There has been class legislation over
here, and they have class legislation over there—it is not a good thing,
only there it is just the other way up; and the effect of ignorant class
legislation is even worse than the effect of educated class legislation.
Let us see how it works. First, it works for a gradual diminution of
efficiency along the ordinary lines of work, on which, remember, the
whole prosperity of the country depends. The boy who is a free man does
not care to be an apprentice, and it does not to do tell the boy he has
done his work badly, because he is a free Australian, and off he goes,
and he won’t work any more if you tell him he has not worked well. But,
you know, nature is a very awkward thing to come striking up against in
your political and social life, and her laws do not get modified as you
might think they should. The boy who won’t learn becomes the workman
who is wanting in skill, and so the level of efficiency in production is
getting lower and lower. If they want a piece of good machinery they have
to send over here to get it—although there is a very heavy price put upon
importing it into Australia—because the work there is so badly done that
the machines won’t work properly after they are made, and that is one of
the results that we are seeing at the present time. Another one is, that
unemployment is increasing. There are men in the streets there just as
there are here, clamouring for work, and asking the Government to give it
to them; and how do they get there? Very many of them because they must
not work under a certain wage, which is not a possible wage to pay for
the kind of work that they can do. Suppose you happen to have a little
garden; you want to have your paths weeded and your grass cut. That is
gardener’s work. Now a gardener must not work under 10s. a day, and your
poor professional man who is at a discount in the matter of votes, and
has a fixed income, cannot afford to pay 10s. a day to have his paths
weeded, so he goes to weed them himself, and the would-be gardener goes
out, and is unemployed in the streets, and calls on the Government to
find him work. There is a very serious side to that beyond the question
of unemployment. If you are going to make the men who should give better
work to the country than the weeding of paths weed their own paths for
themselves, then you are putting a check on the whole of the higher kinds
of labour on which the nobler national life depends, for it is as true
now as it ever was that man does not live by bread alone. If you are
going to make every man do manual labour, you can get nothing more than
the kind of paradise that you find in “Looking Backward,” which is more
a paradise for the respectable suburb than for a nation that needs art
and beauty, music and literature. Those things want leisure to produce
and time to perfect. There must be education behind them before they can
be produced, and it is a very bad arrangement to press all your nation
down to a low level of comfortable eating and drinking and amusement,
and forget the mightier things that make a national life—the products of
genius, the creative exertions of thought. There is one of the greater
dangers. You cannot blame the poor people. ‘As long as a man is hungry,
a good meal is the one thing he wants, and that must be his ideal. But
nations ought not to be built up on the crude ideas of the ignorant
and the hungry. That is the duty of wisdom. But see how difficult this
question becomes; see how it is even in this country, where still
education is a very great weight in popular affairs, even though the vote
ignores it. A man may know his own trade, and be able to give very good
counsel and advice as to what is necessary for that one particular trade
in which he is working; but a nation is not made up of one trade; it is
made up of a hundred different occupations, every one interlinked and
interrelated with all the others, and you cannot legislate nationally by
simply looking at a single occupation or a single class. You must see
how your law reacts on the whole of the complicated organism; otherwise
you ruin your nation while you lift up a single trade, and that is what
is happening in Australia. Certainly some of the trades are very well
provided and arranged for, but the rest of the elements that ought to
make a nation are disregarded, and life for them is made impossible; and
even within the limits of a trade, sometimes things are marvellously
stupid. Let me give you one example. Melbourne is a large city, and
occasionally it has very hot weather. The trades unions there have made
a law that milk shall not be delivered more than once a day on Sunday;
the poor man wants his holiday, and it is very selfish of you if you
want to make him work on Sunday, so that milk may only be delivered in
the morning. Now the difficulty is that the cows have not yet come into
the trades unions; they do not realise that on Sunday they are only to
give milk once a day and not twice. Without the slightest regard for the
beauty of social arrangements, they wilfully persist in giving milk in
the afternoon as well as in the morning. But the unfortunate milkman must
not sell it, because if he did he would be turned out of his trade union,
and that would mean destruction. So he has to keep it; and if the weather
is hot it is not quite so good in the morning, in spite of the boracic
acid, as it was the night before. So he mixes up the fresh milk of the
morning and the stale milk of the night before, and sells it all as
fresh milk: and though you may not discover it in the milk-can, the baby
discovers it in the milk-bottle, and the death-rate of the children goes
up in the summer because of this admirable arrangement which has been
made with regard to the distribution of milk. That is not the way that
nations can really be governed; and there are all sorts of restrictions
of that kind which constantly come up against you in the home, and make
you feel that life is not in any sense free. Things of this sort can
only succeed if certain conditions are willingly accepted by all the
people who have to work under them, and not when they are imposed for the
benefit of a particular trade or an unwilling and reluctant population.
Let us go one step further; we need not go out to Australia now. We
have to replace competition by co-operation. You may say that is being
very largely done. Certainly very much has been done in co-operative
distribution; Lancashire and Yorkshire are full of successful
co-operative works. How many are there of co-operative productive works?
The idea has been tried a good many times, but it has always broken down
for two reasons: first, that in production you want one clear, strong
brain which is a despot over the production; you cannot do it by boards
and committees and popular votes, and all the rest of it, because in
that commercial production there are many things to think of; very swift
changes may come about, and the one able man is able to seize the right
moment and to lead his affair to success, where divided councils and
delay and discussion spell bankruptcy. That is one of the difficulties
with regard to this production. There is something still more serious—the
want of trust. The people don’t trust each other; they are suspicious
of each other. They suspect each other of personal ends, instead of
honestly co-operating for the public good. So they change their officers
continually, and there is no continuity of policy. That fault of want of
trust, want of confidence, imputation of bad motives, is fatal and must
remain fatal until people can grow out of it into Brotherhood. At the
present time, when one man born among the working classes, as they are
called, by ability and skill, eloquence and application, rises into the
higher social ranks, his bitterest opponents are to be found in the class
which he has quitted; and when he finds, as he must find—because again he
strikes up against great natural laws—when he finds that Trafalgar Square
remedies are not workable when you come to put them within the four
corners of an Act of Parliament, then people call him traitor, deserter,
renegade, and the best he can do will not win him trust and confidence.
How is that to be dealt with?
Oh, you say, you will have to change human nature before your plans
will work. Exactly; that is precisely what has to be done. Do you think
it is impossible? Human nature is changing every day; human nature is
continually in a state of flux. The human nature of the Middle Ages is
not the same as the human nature of our own time. When knight-errants
went plunging about, fighting and the rest of it, it might very well
have been said: “Oh, you have to change human nature before you can get
people to sit quietly down and submit to the law, instead of knocking
their oppressor on the head.” Quite true; but human nature has been
changing through those centuries, so that instead of riding out to right
your own wrong, you call in the nearest policeman and submit it to the
arbitration of the law. Why should not human nature go on changing? As a
matter of fact it is changing before our eyes, and the changes that are
coming in it are the unfolding of the divine Spirit in man; the outer
forms change to embody the unfolding Spirit, and the lower human nature
is always changing, and gradually producing itself in higher and higher
forms. In the very midst of this struggle and competition, this misery
and conflict, you can see, if you will open your eyes, the germs of a
nobler, higher, more brotherly civilisation. How different is the social
conscience from what it was even a century ago; how different the common
feeling of responsibility when wrong things are done and misery is left
unalleviated! How many more of the classes that are called comfortable
cannot remain comfortable while they know misery is outside their doors;
how many are beginning to recognise the great fact that whatever one has
earned one holds as a steward, and not as an owner, in a world where all
men are brothers, and where the duty of the family is the duty of each!
That thought is spreading further and further, wider and wider; but the
great change must come from above, not from below. Starving, ignorant men
can make riots, sometime even revolutions; but only wisdom and love can
build up a new civilisation that shall endure. I remember that one day,
when H. P. Blavatsky was asked: “Are you a Socialist?” her answer was, “I
believe in the Socialism that gives; I do not believe in the Socialism
that takes.” There lies the keynote of the future. When those who have
are ready to sacrifice, then the dawning of the new era will be seen in
the sky that is over our earth; when wealth and education and power are
held as trusts for the common good, ah! then will come the laying of
the foundations of a better and a nobler State. When the educated man
and woman remember: “This education of mine, bought by the ignorance of
thousands who have laboured in order that I might be educated, really
belongs to them, and I must give it back to them in service, in order
to pay the debt that I have contracted to them”; when the wealthy man
feels: “I am a steward, not an owner of this wealth which has come out
of the labour of thousands; let it help the uplifting of thousands”—then
Brotherhood is beginning to show itself upon earth. When the gentle
and the refined realise that gentleness and refinement are meant to be
shared, and not shut up away in drawing-rooms to guard them as though
they were delicate Dresden china that must not be used for fear it should
be broken—when that day comes, we shall be nearer the beginning of a
great social change. It must be by renunciation, by self-abnegation, that
the foundations of that great brotherly civilisation will be laid. In a
family, the elders think of the youngers; and when food is short, it is
the elders who go without it in order that the little ones may be fed. So
in every social movement the note of the higher is renunciation, the note
of the lower is love and co-operation; then they will blend together,
and each will bring what he has to give, none will despise another, for
everything is equally necessary for the building up of a nation. The
strength of the navy, the genius of the philosopher, the skill of the
worker, the keen brain of the organiser—the whole of these must make a
common work; and none should either despise or envy, for it is one work
which is being made by all for the good of everyone.
If you say to me: “That hope can but be a dream,” my answer to you is,
that as man is divine there is nothing too great for him to imagine or
too exquisite for him to achieve. Think highly of yourselves, highly of
your divine possibilities; realise that you are Gods in the making,
and that you can build anything to which you can aspire. Thought is the
mightiest power; the thought-image first, and then its materialisation in
the physical world. But it is not enough to think; the materialisation
here has to be made; and there are signs of that in the great Christian
civilisation which is still the dominant power in Christendom. For men
are beginning to talk now not of heaven away beyond the clouds, but of
heaven here on earth; of the kingdom of Christ on earth that shall surely
come, not only in the ideal but in the actual; a civilisation based on
brotherhood, wisdom, love. That is what is going to be done in the world
just now opening up before us. Men are no longer content to be happy
after death, they want to be happy on this side of death as well; and
they shall be, unless the prayer that you who are Christians utter day by
day is only a lip worship and not a reality: “Thy will be done on earth,
even as it is done in heaven.” It is on earth the new great civilisation
is to come, that Brotherhood is to be realised, that the nations of the
future are to be built on the type of the family, and not on a type of a
struggle of wild beasts in the jungle. That is the future to which we are
looking; and if on this Sunday and last Sunday I have drawn the darker
side, it is to show that because things are at a deadlock, therefore He
who holds the key of every lock is near to His return on earth. In the
Sundays that lie before us I hope to work out that second side of the
subject, to show you how these things are passing away, and how it has
been declared in the higher world, and the cry is echoing in the lower:
“Behold, I make all things new!”
Lecture III
The New Doors Opening In Religion, Science, and Art
Friends: On the preceding evenings on which I have addressed you we have
had our attention turned backwards to the past, or we were glancing at
the present. We are now to turn our eyes to the future, and, starting
from the basis of the present and of certain facts which are already
showing themselves amongst us, to consider what new doors are opening
in Religion, in Science, and in Art; what new avenues of knowledge are
beginning to show themselves stretching to far-off horizons—horizons, in
fact, which are not really the limit of those avenues, but only the limit
to which we can at present pierce. I am chiefly concerned to endeavour
to show you that this promise of the opening of new doors is a great
reality; that the sounds are around us; that, as it were, the doors are
already a little open, and we have the right to think that as man evolves
a little further those doors will open wider and wider, so that the race
may pass through them to a wiser and a happier future. In order to make
this intelligible and clear, I shall have to ask you for a few moments
to consider with me a certain view of man’s nature and constitution, a
view which was practically universal among the ancient religions of the
world, which is indicated, although not fully carried out perhaps in
detail, in the more modern faith of Christendom, which is revived amongst
us, and is being taught all over the world by means of the Theosophical
Society; not a new view, but a very old one, clothed only in new garments
in deference to the advancing mind of man. Now this view I must put
roughly, but without that statement the method of the opening of the new
doors would remain unintelligible. It is briefly this: That every human
being is fundamentally a spiritual intelligence, appropriating to himself
portions of matter in the various types of worlds in which he lives; that
that spiritual intelligence commences the great world-cycle as a germ
or seed of divinity; and just as if, where you had an ordinary seed, a
grain of corn, that grain would not grow and develop the powers within
it unless it were planted in the soil, the soil whose juices nourish
it, unless it were rained upon, and unless the sun shone upon it, so is
it with the divine germ, the human Spirit. It is planted in the soil
of human experience, whose juices shall gradually enable it to unfold
its divine possibilities. It is watered with the rain of human tears,
the tears of sorrow and of pain; it is vivified, strengthened, enabled
to grow by the sunshine of human joy and human delight; and out of the
contact of experience, out of the rain of sorrow and the sunshine of joy,
gradually, generation after generation, century after century, millennium
after millennium, the divine germ becomes a divine man, perfect in the
manifested powers of Deity enfolded within him from the first.
But in order that that æonian evolution and unfolding may go forward,
it is necessary that this divine germ should come into contact with
matter. Hence veil after veil of matter enwraps, is appropriated by, this
divine germ, and he draws around himself—as he descends from the highest
heavens down to the earth, through region after region of ever-densifying
matter—and appropriates veil after veil, in order that by contact with
that matter, which alone can give him experience, the powers within him
may unfold and the matter that he appropriates may become his servant,
his instrument of manifestation. So when we look at any one of ourselves
at the stage that we have reached to-day, we find a spiritual being many
of whose powers have unfolded, but some of whose powers remain not yet
unfolded into manifestation, and we find, clothing, as it were, that
unfolding Spirit, the veils of matter of which I spoke, no longer mere
inchoate veils, but bodies more or less definitely organised for the
purposes of the unfolding life. On our physical plane, in the world in
which we are to-day, that appropriated matter is now highly organised,
and has become the servant of the intelligence of the Spirit to a very
large extent in the more highly developed human beings. It has had
developed in it, age after age, those organs of knowledge that we call
the senses; five in number at the present time, as mankind has passed
through five of those great Races that I likened to the waves of the
human ocean when I first addressed you on this subject. You may remember
that then I spoke of ourselves as being in the fifth of those great
waves, and also in the fifth sub-wave, as we may say, into which the
larger wave divides itself. Even looking back along our experience in
the present cycle of human growth, we can see these senses developing
from their earliest inception up to the present point of keenness that
they have reached, one sense developing in all its stages through one of
the great Races.
In order that you may not think that that is quite removed from
experience, let me ask you for a moment to look at a fairly prominent
family of the fourth race, the one that preceded our own, which is now
living in Burma, part of the Indian empire. In that fourth race as a
whole the sense of taste was the one that was gradually evolving, the
sense of smell being only germinal and rudimentary, not developed. Now
if you go among the Burmans to-day and inquire into their diet, you will
find that one favourite article of diet is fish; but not fish freshly
drawn from sea or river, but fish that has been caught for some time,
buried in the ground until it has become fairly aged, and then unburied,
to form a delightful dish on the Burmese table. Certainly you can well
realise the fact that in that fourth Race people the sense of taste is
very different from what it is amongst yourselves, with perhaps one
exception that I ought to make, that I believe even now in the sense of
taste in some people finds gratification in game and venison that are
euphemistically called “high.” Well, the fish that the Burman eats is
very high; one might almost, if it were not rude, perhaps apply to it a
word more like calling a spade a spade, and call it rotten. Now no one
could eat such food as that and find it pleasant if the sense of smell,
which has so much to do with the more delicate savours of taste, were
already well developed among the people; and I take that as a striking
illustration, one that has come also under my own observation, in order
to make clear what I mean when I say to you that with each race one sense
is developed and the next sense to it is only germinal, and shows itself
out in the following race, through which it grows to higher and higher
perfection. So that the mere fact of the five senses of the present is an
indication of the point at which humanity is standing, and a proverb—and
there is often much truth in proverbs—about a man being frightened out
of his seven senses, although at present he has only five, may serve
as an indication of the widespread and ancient tradition that man has
two races still through which he will evolve, and senses which will be
developed as those races gradually develop upon earth; so that in the
sixth Race, with which I shall have to deal in these lectures this day
fortnight, “The Coming Race,” we shall be looking for the development of
a new sense, the sense which will make the next world on the other side
of death as palpable to us in the physical body as the physical world
is palpable at the present time. For in man that form of vision will be
the next to develop; and as his next higher body, the astral, becomes
rightly organised, then in the physical brain will develop _pari passu_
the organ whereby the knowledge of that world will come into the physical
consciousness, and thus enormously widen our outlook, and make palpable
what now is hidden from the eyes of most.
Taking this view of man, that he is an unfolding spiritual
consciousness, we find that he creates for himself, as he unfolds,
more highly organised bodies of matter, so that the double growth is
going on in every one of us, higher stages of unfolding consciousness,
subtler bodies of matter by which that consciousness can express itself
clearly and definitely; to every change in consciousness a vibration in
matter answering; to every vibration in matter a change in consciousness
responding; so that there are side by side the unfolding of the Spirit
and the development of a more delicate and more highly organised body,
the difference showing itself in the nervous system as well as in the
mere outer configuration of the body. Glance again at that fourth Race,
study its nervous system, and you will find it very different from your
own. While like your own in outer configuration, while the differences
between the brain and the general distribution of the nerves to the body
are not great, if you go into the question of the organisation of that
nervous system you will find that an enormous gulf divides the fourth and
the fifth great Races of mankind. Again, if you want a proof, look at the
amount of pain or the amount of physical injury which can be endured,
say, by the Chinaman, in comparison with what you can bear. Notice that
an enormous laceration inflicted on the body of the Chinaman leaves him
ready to recover rapidly, while a similar injury to you would kill you
by nervous shock. It is not the question of the mutilation—that and the
loss of blood might be the same in each—but the fifth Race man dies from
nervous shock, where the fourth Race man with the coarser nervous system
is able to recover, is able to re-establish the nervous equilibrium.
Another point you may notice among yourselves to-day, emphasising as
you do in your own Teutonic sub-race the characteristics of the great
Aryan Race to which all these branches that are spread over the West as
well as in India belong. Looking at that, you will find, as you come
into your own Teutonic sub-race, that nervous diseases increase; and
they are increasing very rapidly at the present time, far more rapidly
apparently than at any other period in human history. The strain on
your present nervous system is beginning to be too great, for it is
evolving a little more rapidly than the outer world is evolving to meet
it; and hence, in order that you may not suffer from continual nervous
diseases, it is necessary to begin to refine and to purify your lives,
leaving the grosser passions behind you which in the course of evolution
you now ought to have outgrown. As the next sub-race is born—and it
is beginning at the present time—the nervous system will become more
and more delicate, and keener sense-organs will appear in the children
in larger and larger numbers. Our present organs of sense will first
become intensified. Then, after much intensification, the newer organs
will begin to show themselves—those which will unfold to us the world
on the other side of death. To this world our astral bodies belong,
and our nervous system will become finer, and thus make it possible to
register our investigations more completely in our physical bodies. That
will be one point that we shall have to bear in mind in looking for the
new doors that are opening. But not only the physical body is growing
finer, but in addition to that our next body is organising itself and
gradually unfolding its powers, the body that we shall wear on the other
side of death as well, the body that we are wearing now through which
our emotions are showing. For when we pass through death we do not pass
unclothed into another world; we throw off this denser garment of the
physical body, but penetrating that, interfused with that, intermingling
with that now is the finer matter of the world on the other side of
death, growing ready for our use in that further world, and organising
itself gradually for the experiences that there we shall meet. And in
the next race, as I shall try to show you more fully hereafter, that
body will become highly organised, greatly developed, a thorough vehicle
of consciousness as the physical body is to-day, and by the growth and
organisation of that the new doors will open before us in Religion, in
Science, and in Art.
I.—RELIGION.
Let us see, first, how this will affect Religion. The unfolding of the
deeper strata of consciousness will bring our inner selves, the Spirit,
into more and more direct touch with the spiritual regions of our
universe. I am now not dealing with the finer worlds of matter, but with
the spiritual realities which belong to the spiritual life. The nature of
God, the consciousness of His presence everywhere, the recognition of His
life as an indwelling power—all these will become fundamental realities
for the unfolding Spirit in man. I pointed out to you, when dealing with
the deadlock in religion, with regard to the idea of God, that no amount
of reasons addressed to the intellect could ever lead us to an absolute
demonstration of the existence, the reality of God. Probability, yes;
cumulative evidence, yes; but demonstration, no. When a thing is once
demonstrated, no further challenge arises about it; when once a fact is
demonstrated, no one any longer asks: Does that fact exist? and we have
been in the region of arguments about God, and not of that spiritual
knowledge of God which is eternal life. How is that to be reached? Not
by any effort of the reasoning intelligence, not by any upreaching of
the merely emotional nature, but by the unfolding in man himself of that
Spirit which is divine in its essential quality, which, because itself
divine, can respond to divinity without, and, because itself is God,
knows that God of which it is the offspring. This is the ultimate truth
of religion, the human experience of communion with God in the depths
of the human Spirit; for religion is only a groping after God, a search
after God; ceremonies and rites, churches and scriptures, they are all
external; they can never reveal God to the Spirit, which is of His own
likeness and image.
Only the Spirit can know Him, only the Spirit can find Him; while it
searches through matter it can only hope He is, but the unveiled Spirit
can feel the unveiled Godhead, and by the identity of nature can know
that God is, and is itself. And as this inner spiritual life more and
more awakens in the religions of the world, man will know the truth of
that great saying of the Christ: “The Kingdom of God is within you.”
As you go down into the depths of your own being, there shall you
find Deity, the conviction that God is and must be. For you can strip
away from yourself everything that is not He, until only He, the one
Self of all, remains. You can mutilate your body and lose your limbs,
but _you_ remain. Your emotions can grow worn out and be withered, but
behind your emotions _you_ still are there. Your mind may grow weaker,
feebler, may become, as it were, paralysed for reasoning, and yet _you_
are there, behind the failing mind; and if you are willing to pass on
into spiritual experience, to let your emotions be quieted, to let your
mind be still, then in the silence of the emotions, in the tranquillity
of the mind, you shall find a deeper consciousness, a deeper life, a
more real individuality; and as the emotions are still and the mind is
silent, in the innermost depths of the Spirit you shall find yourself
and God. And then, contemplating that mighty and eternal life, you
shall feel that you share it, that you are part of it, that you cannot
be separated from it, and, in a great gush of experience that never
again you can doubt, you shall know the reality of Deity in finding the
reality of yourself. That is the ultimate conviction that nothing can
shake—that the human experience that many a man has had, that for him has
transformed the world; that is the sure ground of the religion of the
future, that the rock on which a true faith alone can be based; and it
is written, and truly written, in an ancient Hindū scripture, that the
only proof of God lies in the witness of the Self. On that rock religion
will base itself, fearless of all attack, of all assault. No question
of chronology can move it, for every man can gain that experience for
himself; no criticism and destruction of scriptures can tear this in
pieces, for it is ever renewing in the perennial life of the Eternal
Spirit; no churches, in failing, can shake it, for it is this that made
churches, to help in its own searching; nothing outside can touch it,
for it lives in the innermost heart of man. And in that, ever-opening
new experiences, fuller knowledge, deeper understanding, more abounding
love, and unchanging peace and bliss. Everything else may go, but this
remains unchanging; and as out of this all has come, the perishing of the
transient matters not, for the Eternal Source remains.
But that is not the only new door, though the most important one, which
opens to religion. You remember that I said, that with the unfolding
consciousness a more delicately organised body was evolved. And so we
find that new senses, new powers awake in the material tabernacle with
this unfolding of the divine Spirit in man. The senses which belong to
the higher worlds are very near to the opening in every one of you; and
if you ask me why I say it, my answer is very simple, because, taking,
say, any dozen of you, dulling the physical senses by what is called
mesmerism, or hypnotism if you will, so that you cannot see physical
things, cannot hear physical sounds, cannot taste or smell or touch so
that the senses answer to objects outside—under those conditions in about
ten out of every dozen these inner senses are able to make themselves
manifest, are able to bear witness to the existence of a subtler world.
Now when you find that by an artificial process of that kind an ordinary
man or woman can be made what is called clairvoyant or clairaudient, or
able to touch and feel things that the ordinary physical touch does not
reveal; when you find that by stilling the physical these rudimentary
senses are able to work—within limitations, but still to work—it is a
fairly clear proof that man is on the threshold of unfolding those senses
that now are rudimentary, and that need an artificial condition in order
to show themselves. But they do show themselves under that artificial
condition. If they were not there they could not show themselves, no
matter how much you might paralyse the dense physical body; it is only
because they are there that they can function. But when the rougher
senses are active, those stronger vibrations dull the delicate vibrations
of the rudimentary and dawning senses. It is only because they are
present, but only partly developed that you are able to make them
manifest in the great majority which might be taken from a meeting such
as this.
Now, not only is that true—and I mention that first because that is
practically universally recognised by science now—but they may be
artificially stimulated without the help of mesmerism at all. While
that is a rough-and-ready way of doing it with anybody, the other means
requires a consciousness unfolded to the point where the fact of these
senses is recognised as probable, and then a deliberate and sustained
effort to bring these senses into working order. Now that is done by what
is known generally as meditation, and meditation is only concentrated
thinking. Anyone who is able to pay attention, any one who is able to
think steadily on one subject for a little time without letting the mind
wander, is ready to begin meditation; and most of all are those ready
to begin it, although at first sight they might not look promising, who
are capable of being seized upon by a single idea of a high and lofty
character; which, as it were, takes possession of them, obsesses them
if you will, so that they become martyrs, heroes for the idea which has
gripped them. I do not say that is the highest state—it is not; it is not
best to be possessed by the idea, but to possess the idea—that is a stage
higher still. But the power of being possessed by an idea shows that you
are climbing upwards towards the realms of the ideal; and many a man or
woman who is marked out as a fanatic, as unwilling to be reasoned out
of their foolish ideals, the dreamers of the world, the Utopians, the
poets who dream of a coming golden age, those men and women who despise
the present, sometimes irrationally, in the wild enthusiasm of the idea
that has possessed them, they are treading on the threshold of that
power of concentration of the mind which, when they have mastered their
ideas, should carry them far on—on to the next stage in human progress.
It is by meditation that these senses are artificially awakened; that
is, you quicken the normal workings of evolution by knowing the laws
of thought, and utilising them to bring about that which you desire.
It is only artificial in the same sense that a cattle-breeder, when he
wants to breed a particular type, uses those laws of nature that help
him, and avoids or evades those that would hinder him. He clears out of
his way all the opposing forces and energies, so that those he wants
may have free play. So with the laws of mind; if you know the laws of
mind, the laws by which consciousness evolves, then you can use them
scientifically to develop in yourselves the highest powers of the mind,
and use those powers of the mind to organise your subtler body, so that
it may become a vehicle of consciousness, may be obedient to your will
to know. That is already stirring within you; hence the nervous troubles
that you have; but when you understand the law, you can evolve the finer
nervous system without peril to health. Only this demands rules which
many people kick against, a physical self-mastery that is not popular
in the luxurious and ease-seeking civilisation of our time; to make
your physical body only an instrument, to allow it to eat only what you
choose for it as best suited to your purpose, to allow it to drink that
alone which suits your aim, to allow it to sleep just as long as, and no
longer than, conduces to that object that you have set before yourself—to
make the body the servant, and not the master, or even the equal, of the
Spirit—that is the regimen which has to go with the quicker evolution of
the astral body and the keener senses which belong to it. Many are doing
it amongst us now; nature is doing it, but not so rapidly as man can do
it by working with nature.
On the western coast of America, along the Californian district, where
the electric conditions are very peculiar, one of the games the children
like is to run along the carpet, rubbing their feet along the carpet as
they go. This charges them so highly with electricity that if you turn on
a gas-jet they can put a finger to it and light it. These are things that
are well known over there, and with that peculiar electrical condition
the tension of the nervous system is higher, and so these senses
are very much more common there than they are in our damper and less
brilliant electrical atmosphere. That, however, is coming for all; there
partly by natural conditions; here, if you choose to do it, by deliberate
working with nature along the line of evolution.
Now, what will be the effect of evolving those astral senses? That the
next world will form part of this world to you, so that in religion a
large number of things that now are matters of faith will become matters
of everyday knowledge. There will be no need then to talk about human
personality persisting on the other side of death, for you will see your
dead all around you, as some are able to see them even now. Death will
be only going into another room in the house that we are all living in,
and even the walls will become transparent, so there will be no real
separation; it will no longer be necessary for the clergy to preach about
the life on the other side of death, for all the congregation will see
that it exists; it will be no longer necessary to talk about the results
in that life of what we are doing here, for the results will be open
before our eyes, as they are open to the eyes of the seers of to-day;
there will be no need then to say that death cannot divide, for all will
know that their beloved are with them—tangible, visible, audible.
Now, these things are so to an ever-increasing number of our own race at
the present time; they will become general as evolution proceeds. And
the result of that will be that very many of the secondary teachings of
religion will become palpably true to the great majority; not only the
question of the life after death and the conditions that rule there, but
also the value of many church rites and ceremonies that the sceptical
and materialistic mind of the moment looks on with scorn and contempt as
ancient superstitions. There is such a thing as the sacramental life;
there is a bridge between this world and the next in those sacraments
of the Churches possessed by every great religion, and not by the
Christian alone. Much of that has been lost to western Christendom by
the Reformation, which rejected the occult because it had been abused,
and superstition believed without understanding. But, none the less, in
the great sacraments of the Church there remains a potency which without
that sacrament you cannot reach, a real communication of the spiritual
to the material, a real down-flowing of the higher life: a thing which
is visible to the eye of the seer, although invisible to the normal
worshippers in the churches. And gradually, as these senses become
common, those ancient traditions will again be justified in the minds
of all, and men will again know that in those divinely given offices of
religion there is a mighty potency, a living spiritual reality. You do
not need them when you have opened up your Spirit to the higher realities
of the spiritual world, but how few there are who are really open to
these in their daily lives; the sacraments are the bridges that unite
the worlds, and it is foolish to throw them aside until you have built a
perpetual bridge within yourself.
All along those lines you will readily see how many doors will open
in religion where knowledge will justify what humility and faith
have received. And along those lines religion, without ceasing to be
spiritual, will be rational and scientific as well, and you will realise
that Occult Science justifies religion, and can make a rational and
scientific defence for many of its rites and ceremonies, for many of
its teachings that now rest on authority and tradition. I have not time
to go further along that line; I have indicated to you the ways along
which the doors are opening both in the spiritual unfolding to the higher
realities, and the unfolding of the higher senses which will gradually
bring the next world within man’s ken.
II.—SCIENCE.
Let us turn to Science, and see how far similar doors are opening there
for the science of our day. You may remember that I pointed out to you
that science was now rather at its wits’ end as regards observation. It
seems to have reached the limit of the delicacy of its outer apparatus.
How shall it continue to observe? By means of those same senses that
I have been speaking of in relation to the verification of religious
teachings, but in science you can begin a little lower down. In the
physical world of matter, our own world, science is now recognising not
only solid, liquid, gas, but also ether, and beyond ether, possible
finenesses arising, so that there may be many ethers, as indeed was
suggested in that famous classification of vibrations which Sir William
Crookes gave in one of his addresses a few years ago. Let it stand for
the moment as a matter of observation of higher sight that there are
more ethers than one that science will gradually conquer. But science
is not yet able to see even the chemical atom, and that is only on the
plane of the gas, the third fineness of matter. The atom escapes by its
subtlety, by its minuteness, and yet it would not be a very difficult
thing for most of you to develop in yourselves the power of seeing as
far as that, for it is only physical matter. It is not now the seeing
of another kind of matter altogether, like that of the astral world; it
is only the making a little keener of your present physical sight. Now
I wonder how many of you, if you were on board ship, quiet, with the
air very pure, if you looked into the atmosphere around you, would see
dancing in that atmosphere a number of tiny brilliant sparks. Probably a
large number of you. Try it next time you happen to be out on the sea.
Sit with your back to the sun, otherwise your eyes will become dazzled;
fix your gaze at the distance at which you can see an object clearly, so
as not to strain the eyes; focus your eyes, say at a distance of four or
five yards away, not near enough to cause any strain by the crossing of
the eyes; you must not cross the axes of the eyes, that is, you must not
squint; that, prolonged, will injure the eyes. Let them look quite easily
out a few yards away from you into the empty air, and stay quite quietly
looking at that point. Probably most of you presently would begin to see
a number of brilliant little sparks dancing like motes in a sunbeam.
One word of warning I must give you: if, in fixing your attention on
one of those, it slowly glides away out of sight, round the corner as
it were, then it is only something in the retina, and the humour of the
eyes carries that gradually away; anything that gradually slides out
of sight belongs to the physical retina of the eye, and is not outside
yourself. But if they dance up and down in every direction, exactly as
the dust in a ray of light coming through a shutter, then you may be sure
that you are seeing something in the air beyond your ordinary vision.
Look at them easily, not straining your vision, but with the will to
see—every organ of sense is evolved by the will of the Spirit behind
it—the will to see more plainly, and gradually you will find that those
dancing sparks of light can be stopped by your will to look at them,
until they will, as it were, hang in the air like minute sparks without
the rapid motion. You have begun then to develop etheric sight, and going
on steadily along similar lines you would find that before very long
the atom of the chemist would become visible to you. Of course, this is
possible to any clairvoyant who possesses real clairvoyance, and not
only a dim response to vibrations outside that are not understood. Two
years ago, under favourable conditions, two of us who had developed some
of these higher kinds of sight set to work on the atoms of the chemist.
We examined some fifty-five or fifty-six of them, drew the forms, and
since then have examined all the rest that are known to science. Those
forms fall into classes; they can be drawn so that anyone who is now
able to see them can test his own vision if he pleases by that which we
have put on record; and you will find in that work, which we published
under the name of _Occult Chemistry_, pictures of the chemical elements,
observations as to their breakings up into finer and finer forms of
ether, and possibly to the trained chemist suggestions of experiments
by which he may guide his own investigations, and by utilising what we
have seen as scientific hypotheses to him, although facts to us, may
be able to follow these subtle and elusive particles of matter further
than he has been able to follow them by any instrument that he is able
to manufacture. For when a thing is once done, it is possible then to
verify it over and over again; when once the pictures have been made, it
is easy for others to see them and verify their details; and along that
line opens up a whole vast series of new observations by man developing
within himself instruments of observation keener than those he possesses
by his apparatus and his machinery. Along that line physical research
may go. As these senses become commoner and commoner, investigations may
be carried on by scientists into the subtler worlds on whose thresholds
they now are standing, until we shall be able to have a chemistry founded
on direct observation which shall carry us right up to the ultimate atom
of the physical plane, and make practicable those so-called dreams of
the Alchemist, which are only practicable by bringing together atoms
of a finer kind than the gaseous, and so leading to aggregations that
make the elements along the lines that the chemist desires, he doing in
his laboratory what nature has done outside. And so along that line to
chemistry, to electricity, new powers of observation will extend the
bounds of science.
And in medicine the same is true. Now medicine is to some extent,
especially on the Continent, profiting by this clear seeing. It is not an
uncommon thing in a Paris hospital for the doctors to look for someone
who is sensitive, to hypnotise that sensitive person, to half awaken
him, so that he is what is called “lucid” or “clairvoyant,” to take him
then to the bedside of the patient and get him to describe the inner
condition of the organs of that patient. Diagnoses are being made in that
way now in several of the Paris hospitals, enormously facilitating the
work of the physician, and even of the surgeon. It is only seeing by what
you call the Röntgen rays. The human eye can develop the power to see
by those rays, and then you don’t want your screens and all the rest of
your apparatus, for direct vision will do what is now done imperfectly
by apparatus. Once, in speaking about this, I pointed out that all that
the doctors had done was to give a new label to a power that had been
recognised by many right back in the last century. They don’t call it
clairvoyance—I use that word—they call it internal autoscopy. After all,
a rose by any other name smells as sweet. Clairvoyance is just as useful
when it is described in seven syllables as when it is described in three
the power is the same; and that is now being used, as I say, for medical
purposes. As that extends, as the action of drugs can be watched, as the
physician can see what he is doing instead of groping, then medicine
will become what it ought to be—a science of healing; and instead of the
miserable practice of vivisection you will have the clairvoyant vision,
which directs alike the scalpel of the surgeon or the prescriptions of
the physician.
But that is not the only door which is opening before medical science.
Doctors are beginning to realise the enormous value of the power of
mind in the treatment of disease. Along this line the way has been led
as usual by the great hosts of people who are banned as charlatans by
modern science—Christian Scientists, Mental Scientists, faith curers of
all sorts. These are the things that are leading the medical profession
slowly along sounder lines of cure, along safer methods of healing. Most
doctors will now admit that to get the mind of the patient with them is
to double the value of their drugs; most doctors will admit that the
use of the imagination by the patient is an immense help in the curing
of any disease. On every side you may see that these methods are being
taken up by medical men, and are being rendered more and more scientific.
What is the law that underlies them all? That the mind creates; that
the mind is the one great creative power in the universe, divine in the
universe, human in man; that as the mind can create, so can it restore;
that where there is injury, the mind can turn its forces to the healing
of the injury; that where harm has happened to the body, the mind can
bring a remedy and strengthen the action of the drugs that are given
by the physician. And I see now that in the Anglican Church there are
several guilds of healing by the action of prayer—which is concentrated
thought—by the touch of consecrated oil—which is a sacramental
function—and by the faith of the patient, which is the determination
of the mind to work in the direction which is desired by the sufferer.
Now there is nothing new in that, nothing that has not been known in
the world for thousands of years. It was pushed out of sight by a
science that depended only on material means; it is coming back with the
supremacy of mind over matter, and with the recognition which science
is now making, that it is life which is the evolver and the moulder of
matter. As medicine goes along that line instead of along the lines of
torture, the doctor will again become the healer instead of the poisoner
that he too often is to-day.
In psychology the same is true; new doors are opening there. These higher
bodies of man that I spoke of at the beginning, as they become organised,
bring us into touch with one region after another of the universe around
us, answer to vibrations from the outer world far away from our physical
globe, bring us into contact with the subtler regions, the regions of
thought as well as the regions of Spirit. As our consciousness makes its
vehicles more plastic, more useful, more keen, more subtle, we shall find
the consciousness far larger than we dreamed of, until at last we shall
realise that this human consciousness of ours is only like a vast body
touching delicately, as it were, the surface of the physical matter of
the globe, putting a little more of itself down into the physical brain
that is more sensitive, but ever transcending the physical, and using the
higher, finer matter for its keener instrument, until at last we shall
realise that genius of every kind is only the manifestation of a larger
consciousness that each of us possesses, only we are not able to make it
work through the denser matter of our brain. And we shall realise that
all that the Prophets have said, all that the great Mystics have told us,
all those things are only the fruits of a wider consciousness contacting
a wider world, and that before psychology is unfolding an enormous range
of possibilities, in which man will be in touch with other worlds than
this, and in which he will climb higher and higher, until he realises
that he is cosmic, not planetary, and belongs to a vaster system, and not
only to one tiny world. Along those lines, and along many another, then,
the finer sense is opening to science new doors, new avenues of knowledge.
III.—ART.
And what of Art? Here, again, these senses will be the builders of the
new art, the givers of the new ideals; and there are already signs, in
the world of painters more especially, of new powers which are opening,
new splendour of colour, and new wedding of emotion to colour also. A new
school of painters is beginning to grow up, some in this country, one at
least in Belgium, several in Hungary. I was looking at their paintings
only three or four days ago, in which new use of colour is being shown
to indicate the higher emotions of the mind, in which the painter is
throwing into forms of new beauty, glorious in new brilliancy of colour,
the higher thoughts and emotions which show themselves especially in
religious feelings. There was one painting that was hanging in the
hall in which we were holding our International Congress, which from
the further end of the hall seemed as though it were impossible as a
mere painting on opaque canvas. As you looked at it from a distance it
seemed as though the colour were transparent, as though the canvas were
transparent, as though there were a light beyond the painting shining
through the colours from behind. Now, there is something of that quality
in the paintings of Mr. Mortimer Menpes which he did in Japan. It shows
so strongly that I remember, in one exhibition of his paintings, that
people looking would hardly believe that a light had not been hidden
behind the painting, so extraordinary was the brilliance that seemed
to shine through; but if you talked to that great colourist, you would
find that he sees colours in quite a different way from you, or at least
I will say I found he saw them in quite a different way from my normal
sight, and in talking to him about the colours that he saw, I was able to
recognise, having unfolded some of the higher vision, that he was seeing
astral colours, and not physical, and that the effort to throw those upon
the canvas brought about the remarkable results which everyone wondered
over, though they did not understand. Now there are many artists who are
growing up along that line, who are groping after new possibilities of
colour as well as after new ideals which they seek to limn, and you will
find in the more modern paintings of that school, at present so small but
with the promise of the future in it, that they are seeking after new
forms of beauty; that they are trying to translate some of the higher
visions that belong to worlds of matter subtler and finer than our own;
that they are beginning to draw down from the ideal great thoughts, which
they are putting at present imperfectly into form and colour, but in
which is the promise of the Art of the Future, where larger worlds shall
be drawn upon, where a vaster Nature shall unfold herself to man, where
new colours and new possibilities of outline shall be found in every
direction, and where human genius shall have a wider range, because a
wider world and wider powers will come within the power of the painter.
And so we shall see it also in music. That is beginning to show signs
of the coming art—subtler harmonies, minuter distances between notes,
tendencies to quarter-notes as well as half-notes, quarter-tones; and
already there are one or two musicians who are beginning in their
melodies to play with these subtler kinds of tones, making strange new
music—music which the public ear is not yet accustomed to, which it
challenges when it hears it, but which is the Music of the Future, when
a vaster range of sound shall appeal to ears more finely organised than
ours, and when the ears of a new race shall demand from its musicians
greater delicacies of musical sound than have yet been mastered amongst
us; and there is a new possibility there. That has been seized in India,
although little put at present into music that the West would love. If
you go to India you will find some strange rules of music there: there is
music for the sunrising, and music for the high noon, and music for the
evening hours, and music for the stillness of the night. Nature has her
sounds in all the different times of her unfolding, from dawn to sunset,
and sunset to dawn, and these finer notes are attuned to these mysteries
of Nature, so that unheard melodies may be mirrored in the music of human
instruments. The Indian musician would not play to you a melody of the
dawn when the sun was setting; he would say it was against religion to do
it, for to him all things are religious. It is a subtler harmony between
man and Nature; and not without significance, again, was it that, at the
Congress I have just spoken of, a Russian lady teacher—for the Russian
is very sensitive, a young nation with possibilities of the future in
it—brought to us what she called “coloured sounds.” She had learned to
translate into musical sounds the colours of the sunset and the colours
of a forest, so that in music she could play sounds that made arise in
the mind the same emotions as would be aroused in the mind that looked at
the glory of the clouds in the sunset, or that sat in the wood and saw
the delicate shadings of the trees; the same emotions in the one case
seen in Nature, in the other heard in music, and both changeable the one
into the other, eye and ear, and ear and eye. Along those lines many new
possibilities lie—new melodies, new delicacies, new exquisite harmonies
in sound.
So art will go forward here, with these keener, subtler organs, further
even in one way than science along the line of observation, for art
reaches out by emotion where science is only observing, and so the poet
is very easily the prophet, and the artist very easily the seer; and as
these powers increase and multiply, a new race arises in which the powers
are inborn. Can you not dream some of the new possibilities in Religion,
in Science, and in Art?
You think it is all a dream, all a fancy! But to say that, you must be
making the preposterous claim that evolution is over, and that you are
the highest products which Nature is able to bring to birth. We are far
higher than the savages: should there not be races higher than we are?
Surely Nature’s power is not exhausted; surely she, who has gradually
builded up the exquisite mechanism of the human retina from the pigment
spot in the nervous ring of the medusa, surely she can evolve these eyes
further and further, to greater power of sight. It all grows out of the
Spirit, and of the Spirit there is no ending. If you see to-day with
your eye it is because the Spirit in you willed to see, and by that will
built up the organ which made the will effective in the material world;
and that same Spirit that evolved you in the past is living in you now,
and is your innermost Self; its powers are not exhausted, its inspiration
is not over, it is still the architect of the human body, as the divine
Spirit is the architect of the universe. Ever to higher and higher
forms of matter, ever to loftier and loftier stages of consciousness,
everlastingness stretches in front of us, as everlastingness stretches
behind us. As we have climbed, so we shall climb; as we have come upwards
from the dust, so shall we ascend to the stars; for the Spirit of God
within us knows no limitation either in time or space, and the evolution
of the future should be a millionfold more splendid than the evolution
which has made us what we are.
Lecture IV
Brotherhood Applied to Social Conditions
Friends: I wish to deal to-night with the question of the principle of
Brotherhood as applied to human life; how we may use it to solve some
of the problems that we find around us at the present day, how we may
use it to make possible the transition from one stage of civilisation
to another, so that the transition may come in peace and goodwill,
and thereby may last, rather than in anger and revolution, which can
only mean a brief period of the new order, and then another struggle,
prolonged ill-will, and misery. But if Brotherhood is to be applied to
the solution of our difficulties, the first thing that is necessary is
to try to understand what is meant by Brotherhood, and what it implies.
Now, Brotherhood by no means implies what is called equality, for just
as you do find Brotherhood in nature, so do you not find equality; in
fact, the very name Brotherhood carries our thoughts to the constitution
of the family, implies at once the inequality of elder and younger, of
wiser and more ignorant, of those who guide and those who obey; so that
if man is to aim at a society in which equality is to be the watchword,
then the principle of Brotherhood must be entirely thrown on one side.
The disadvantage of taking the war-cry of equality in trying to make a
social system, or even to fight a social battle, is that natural law is
against you, and that you are dealing with a fiction, not with a fact.
There is nothing more obvious throughout the whole realm of nature
than the inequalities of which natural order consists; and if you turn
aside from the vaster order of the various grades of living things, and
confine yourselves only to the study of man, there the same principle of
inequality is perpetually asserting itself. It is not only the difference
of age which always comes in, in the question of a family; it is the
difference of capacity, of power, of characteristics, of qualifications.
What sort of equality is possible between the strong and healthy man
and the cripple or the invalid? what sort of equality between the man
with eyes and the blind? between the man who is dowered with genius and
the man who is weighted by dulness and stupidity? Inequality is the law
of nature, not equality; and it is of no use to try to build a social
system on that which is only a fiction, thought out in the study of
doctrinaires, but breaking down the very moment it comes to be applied
to human life. That famous declaration of the American Republic: “Man is
born free,” and on that freedom basing equality, is denied by every fact
of human life. Man is born a babe, helpless and dependent; and if the
babe were left to the enjoyment of freedom, he would have very little
chance of growing into youth and maturity. A babe is not born free, but
dependent on all those around him for the possible continuance of his
life; and if it were not that he is born into a system of affection and
obligation, there would be no chance for the human babe to survive the
first hours of his infancy.
It is a remarkable fact, one full of significance, that the two societies
in the world which recognise Universal Brotherhood both also recognise
a hierarchical order. Take the great fraternity of Masons. They lay
down the principle of Universal Brotherhood over the whole surface of
the globe, but there is nothing more rigid in its order and in the
authority committed to the officers than a Masonic Lodge. Hierarchy is
there recognised as the very condition of liberty. If you turn from
that proclamation of Universal Brotherhood to the Theosophical Society,
exactly the same thing is seen. You have there the recognition of a
hierarchy that guides the destinies of humanity, and presides over the
evolving growth of man—a mighty hierarchy, where wisdom only gives the
right to rule, and where the commands of wisdom are gladly carried
out by the less wise, who recognise the authority of those wiser than
themselves. And that, in truth, is the condition of liberty. For without
that hierarchical order, where wisdom rules and ignorance obeys, there
is no possibility of anything that is worthy to be called by the name
of liberty. As I shall want to put to you at the close of what I have
to say to-night, we have never yet seen liberty upon earth outside the
ranks of that great human hierarchy; we have only seen the rule of
different classes, the rule of one group over another; but never have we
seen liberty, for man is not yet sufficiently evolved to understand the
conditions under which alone liberty can exist.
In looking at this strange fact, that the only two societies that
proclaim Universal Brotherhood also admit a hierarchical order, let us
see how far in the great Brotherhood of man there are any foundations on
which a hierarchy can be based. I am coming, now, away from that great
occult hierarchy of which I spoke into the ordinary humanity known to us
all. In the family, where the principle of Brotherhood is recognised,
and where duty and responsibility go with age and knowledge, there we
have, as it were, a rough outline as to what a State should be. But how
does the principle of age come in as regards mankind? For unless there
be something in the human race which bears an analogy, at least, to the
principle of age within a family, we shall find it difficult to vindicate
Brotherhood, much less to make it the foundation-stone of society in
the centuries to come. Now, it is as true of humanity as it is true of
the members of a family that there is a difference of age. Exactly on
the same lines by which the members of a family are born one after the
other, and in all those different ages make up the family circle, so is
it with the great family of man. The human and intelligent Spirits that
make up that vast family are not of the same age, have not all been born
into individual existence at the same time. Side by side with the idea
of Brotherhood comes out the natural law of reincarnation—that there is
a difference of age in the individualised human Spirits, and that there
are elders and youngers in the great human family. These differences
of age do not go necessarily with any of the distinctions of castes
or classes that you find in modern society, although the great caste
system of India was founded upon this principle of the different ages
of the reincarnating Egos. Long ago, however, has that passed away, and
you have not now manifest on earth that same definite order as in the
earlier days of our Aryan ancestors in India. Still, you can tell the
younger or the older soul by examining the characteristics that the man
or the woman brings into the world at birth; by looking at the character,
the marks of the being older or younger leap into sight. The younger
soul, unable to acquire any large amount of knowledge, with very little
moral faculty showing itself, very selfish and desirous to grasp the
pleasure of the moment without any care for what may be the result of
grasping it in the time that follows, the trivial, shallow, easy-going
way of life, the being carried away by the ever-changing fancy, and
with no strong underlying thought or principle or will on which you can
reckon, very changeable, very frivolous, easily carried away by every
passing whim of the moment—those are marked out as the younger souls,
who have little experience of life behind them in which character has
been builded, in which will has been evolved. And when you come across
those of calm judgment, great capacity for acquiring knowledge, power to
turn knowledge into wisdom, steadfast in will, steadfast in principle
ready to look to the future beyond the passing attractions of the moment,
ready to sacrifice a temporary gain for a larger happiness—in such men
and women you have the marks of the older souls, whose past experiences
have gradually developed capacities, and who have brought with them into
the world the fruits of long-reaped harvests. That great principle of
Reincarnation must ever go hand in hand with Brotherhood if Brotherhood
is to be applied, if it is to be made a working principle of ordinary
life. For it is out of these differences of age between us that grow up
all the possibilities of an ordered and happy society amongst ourselves.
When the young souls come into places of power and wealth, then ill is
it for the nation, for then children rule instead of men. But well is it
for a people where wisdom is the test of weight and authority, where the
wise and the thoughtful and the learned are those who are held to have
the greatest claim to social distinction, where knowledge and power go
hand in hand, and where experience is the guide of righteousness, the
standard of honour. Only as those facts are recognised—and they grow out
of the knowledge of reincarnation—only on that stable law in nature can
you build securely and strongly the society that shall endure.
But it is sometimes said: If you are going to build a society on these
great principles, then you have to change human nature, because human
nature is selfish, superficial, readily swayed, and you cannot build
a society which is truly great out of trivial and superficial people.
The wise are always in the minority; how, then, will you gain for them
the right and the power to rule? It is true that human nature will have
to change very much from what it is to-day, but then it is changing
all the time—it is no new thing to change human nature. Human nature
is perpetually changing as century succeeds century and civilisation
succeeds civilisation; and when we once understand the law of life, and
realise the mighty power of thought in the building of character, and
understand that law of inviolable sequence which Theosophists call karma,
working in every department of human life and not only in non-intelligent
nature, when we realise the time that reincarnation gives us, and the
certainty that that law of inviolable sequence gives us, then we begin
to understand that human nature is a very malleable thing; and just in
proportion as we understand the law, so shall be the rapidity of the
changing. Do you think that human thought is weak as a force to change
human nature? Is it not rather true that thought is the power which
brings about all mighty changes?—first the ideal, then the action. Let
me give you two striking examples of the only two nations in Europe that
have attained national unity during our own lifetime; one Italy, the
other Germany. I only take them as examples of nations that out of many
States and warring interests have reached unity as a nation; and how was
it done? It was done by the holding up of the ideal in both cases, the
ideal of national unity. Not until German poets had sung of the German
Fatherland for many and many a long year, not until that ideal of the
Fatherland rose strongly and clearly in the minds of the young, not until
the poet had made the ideal was it possible for the soldier to come
forward with the statesman and build those States into one. And so also
with Italy. Long before there was any talk of revolution or war, long
before there was any idea of appealing to the sword, Italian thinkers
had spoken of Italian unity, Italian patriots had held up the ideal of
a united Italy; and it was only when the ideal had fired the hearts of
the young that there was strength enough for the self-sacrifice that
followed the sword of Garibaldi, and made it possible for Italy to become
a united people. For it is out of the ideal that enthusiasm grows, out of
the ideal and the longing to realise it that the power of self-sacrifice
is generated. What we need to do, then, to change human nature, is to
hold up great ideals before the young of our time, and those ideals
shall fire their hearts to passionate enthusiasm, until self-sacrifice
shall be a joy and not a sacrifice at all, in order that the ideal they
worship may become realised upon earth. Along those lines human nature
will change; for, never forget that Human Nature is divine, not devilish;
that a God is at the heart of every man, unfolding the power of divinity;
hence the power of the ideal to fire and the power of thought to mould
the lines of character.
Let us pass on from principles to practice, and see which of the social
problems shows good hope of resolution by applying this principle of
Brotherhood, with its corollaries of reincarnation and karma. Evidently
our first tool is education. In the plastic bodies and brains of the
young there lies the greatest possibility of a speedy upbuilding of
a noble social feeling. As I pointed out in the first of this course
of lectures, the attempt that is being made in many directions now
to separate religion and morals, and to give an education from which
religion shall be excluded—that, for the reasons which I then gave you,
and need not repeat, is foredoomed to failure. Now, it is quite clear why
politicians and the public, impatient of the quarrels of many sectarians
and denominations, want to throw religion aside altogether, and not bring
religious controversies into the schools. But if you apply the principle
of Brotherhood to religion, it surely is not too much to hope that in a
country where the vast majority are at least nominally Christian, some
sort of agreement might be come to on essentials for the teaching of the
young. In India you have sectarian religions as you have here, great
divisions in the schools of religious thought; and it was said some
dozen years ago in India, quite as strongly as you hear it said now in
England: It is impossible to teach religion to Indian boys and girls, for
the strife of sects makes unity impossible, and how should you teach the
children without deciding on what to teach them? That seemed, as it seems
over here, a great obstacle in the way of religious teaching, and yet in
four or five years that question was solved in India so far as concerns
Hindūism, the religion of the enormous majority of the people. What was
done? The principle of Brotherhood was applied. Some of us, in concert
with some theosophical Hindūs, gathered together a small committee to
mark out what were the essential doctrines of Hindūism, and what were
unessential and sectarian. After that sketch had been made, we set to
work to get scholars to collect from Indian scriptures passages which
bore upon these doctrines characteristic of Hindūism, and, with that
material gathered together, a Theosophist sat down and wrote a text-book
of Hindūism. Having written it, a hundred copies were drawn in proof, and
sent to the heads of all the great Hindū sects and schools of philosophy.
They were asked to read it through, to strike out anything they objected
to, to mark in anything they thought essential; and when these books had
travelled round in that way the whole circle of the quarrelling Hindū
sects, they came back again into our hands with all the emendations and
suggestions. Once more we sat round the book, examined the criticisms,
adopted the widely supported suggestions, with such success that, when
the elementary and the advanced text-books on Hindūism were issued,
they were taken up by all the sects over India and adopted as a fair
presentment of the fundamental doctrines of Hindūism. They have been
taken up in school after school, adopted by prince after prince, so that
when the great Mussulmān ruler of Hyderabad in the Deccan wanted to give
his Hindū subjects Hindū education in the whole of the State schools,
he simply took these books and placed them in every school, so that the
Hindūs among his people might be instructed in their own faith. The same
thing was done by the English Government in the Princes’ College in
Rājputāna, because they found that secular education made princes who
were immoral and unfit to rule. During the last eight years these books
have spread everywhere, everywhere accepted and everywhere used. Do you
mean to tell me that the divisions among Christians are so much deeper
that they cannot do what the Hindūs have done, or that you have not more
on which you agree than on which you disagree; and that you could not
teach the children that in which you are united, and leave them in their
manhood or their womanhood to add the sectarian parts of the doctrines
for themselves? In India, to show you the effect of this, one of the
directors of public education asked me: “Cannot you write, Mrs. Besant,
a text-book for the Christians?” My answer was: “Yes, I could write it,
but I don’t think they would use it.” It must come from so recognised
Christian authority. I quite grant that a Theosophist would do it better
than anybody else, because the Theosophist has no quarrel with any form
of religious belief, and because the whole of his study leads him along
the lines of recognising the points of union rather than the points of
divergence; but it need not be done by a Theosophist, only by some one
with the spirit of Theosophy in him, and that only means the spirit of
the Divine Wisdom, of which every separate religion is an expression, so
that there ought to be no quarrel with any.
Supposing that to be done for the whole of the Empire wherever Christians
are found, see how enormous would be the gain; and it would not be
so difficult. There are certain doctrines you all accept if you are
Christian at all: you would only have to put those into a rational,
intelligible form, and then gather from your own Scriptures the verses
which support and give them authority to all who look on those Scriptures
as authoritative. I have had in my mind an idea that may possibly
be carried out, of trying whether it would not be possible to write
a Universal Text-Book of Religion and Morals, with texts from every
Scripture of the great religions, from all the Bibles of mankind, drawing
the authority in support of the universal doctrine, and in that way
making a book that Christian and Hindū, Parsī, Buddhist and Mussulmān
could use; for all their Scriptures might be quoted in support of the
general doctrine, and each might then add its own specific teachings to
that great broad foundation, showing the real Brotherhood of faiths.
That is a dream, but I think it may become a reality.
Along that line, then, in our education we must have religious teaching,
in order that we may have a firm foundation for morals. With regard to
other teaching, what would grow out of the principle of the State being
a great family, with children of many ages and varying capacities that
ought to be equally trained? There would grow up a system of education
in which one broad common basis would be given to every child alike up
to about the age of ten or eleven years, and then there would come a
differentiation according to the capacities of the children. You would
no longer, when a child has musical capacity, insist that that child
shall get a smattering of three or four other arts, so that he is not
good in any one, but only superficial in all. If you saw musical ability
you would let the other points go, and music would form the predominant
part of the education of such a child. If you found power of colour,
power of form, then along the plastic or the painting art the child would
have developed his natural capacity; and slowly and gradually you would
learn that the power of art must pass into the handicrafts of the nation,
and that large numbers of your boys and girls should be trained to the
handicraft as against the machine-made product; because there you have
the possibility of general beauty coming back to life, and there alone
will the sense of beauty be cultivated throughout the nation. Where you
see the tendency is literary, there you should not insist, especially as
you do with girls still, that they should all play a little music, and
all do a little drawing, and all learn a little singing; you would let
all that go, and you would cultivate the literary faculty where you found
it, and make that the special point of this more specialised education.
Where you found the scientific faculty, there you would make that the
most important part of the educational curriculum, remembering only that
you must add to scientific training something of literature and the
ideal, otherwise your science will tend to produce vulgarity and lack of
the wider understanding of human life. Where you find mechanical power,
there you will cultivate that especially, always remembering that no boy
should leave school until he has learned some method of being useful to
the State while earning his own livelihood. Unskilled labour should be a
thing of the past in every department of human life. It is necessary that
you specialise at an age which is early enough to enable a boy to learn
effectively that which is to be his livelihood in later life. A good deal
of mistake is being made in the education of the day, where, when the
boy has to earn his livelihood along some line of manual work, too much
of the literary is given to the sacrifice of manual dexterity. You want
far more practical training in your schools than you have to-day, and the
continual pointing-out that one form of human activity is not inherently
nobler than any other form; that the man who uses his hands well is as
honourable in the use of them as the man who uses his brain well. What is
dishonourable is that either brain work or manual work should be badly
done. Your really destructive spirit along all these lines is: “Oh, it
is good enough; it will do.” There is nothing that will do unless it
is done as well as you are able to do it; otherwise it is slop work,
and degrading in itself. It is not the kind of work you do that makes
you either honourable or dishonourable; it is the spirit in which you
do it, and the quality of the work that you turn out. Until you can get
that through the nation, as it is not to-day—until you can give back to
the workman the dignity of the artist, and not want every carpenter to
educate his boy superficially so that he may be a clerk instead of a
handicraftsman, spoiling your crafts and overloading your offices—until
you can bring back that balance of human duty and human labour, there is
little hope of a sane and healthy society amongst you.
Pass, again, from that to another thing that is badly wanted in
education; but I think that is learned more in the playground than in
the classroom—discipline, the sense of duty to a larger life. That may
sound rather a grand sort of description to give of the effect of a game
on a boy, but it is true. Where a boy is a member of a team—cricket,
football, hockey, what you like—that boy will never be a success unless
he learns to think of his side and not of himself, and that is a larger
self than his own personal claims. It is in the playground that the
boys and girls learn many a lesson which makes them better citizens in
later life—the sense of order, the sense of discipline, the doing your
work in your place, wherever you are put in the field. You may have one
place or another in the cricket field or the football field, but the
test of the boy is that he does his work well in the place where he is,
and does not want to be somewhere else when his captain has placed him
there. That moral discipline of the playground is more valuable than
the discipline of the classroom, for it is voluntary, gladly obeyed,
and it is stimulated by an ideal, unalloyed by fear. Hence the value of
the playground, and the value of teaching boys really to play. For the
greatest danger of these so-called democratic nations is that they have
no sense of discipline, no sense of order, no sense of obedience; without
these no nation can be great. When you get, as you sometimes do get, a
thing that happened last time I was in Australia, that an apprentice
boy at a mine, because he was reproved for not doing his work rightly,
at once left work, and then the whole mine struck in order to defend
this young scamp’s liberty—there is not much chance of building a nation
out of materials like that; you have only got a heap of marbles with no
cohesion, with no binding sense of duty nor sense of responsibility, and
out of those materials you can never make a State. Without discipline,
order, obedience, no possibility of greatness. But all that has to grow
out of the education definitely based on these ideas of Brotherhood, of
reincarnation, and law.
Pass from that department of life, and turn to a very important
question—Penology, the treatment of criminals. What is the criminal?
Criminals fall into two great classes: one class of young souls, and
they need to be educated; another class of souls whose development has
been lopsided, so that the intellect has grown, but the conscience has
not developed side by side with it—by far the more dangerous criminals
those, and far more difficult to deal with. Now, the young soul is very
largely a savage, the man at so low a stage of human evolution that
earlier in the evolution of our race he would have been guided into some
savage tribe in some island or desert, where the rough discipline of that
savage life would have begun the hewing of him into shape—rough, hard,
cruel, but gradually building up that young soul into a sense of duty
to his tribe. Now, as things have changed, and human evolution has gone
forward rapidly, there are not places enough in the world where those
conditions are available for the gradual training of these younger souls.
The civilised nations, as we call them, have been spreading everywhere
over the world’s surface, have been driving these miserable people out of
their possessions, have taken their lands, largely murdered them, have
appropriated the land and dispossessed the earlier possessors into the
next world. What has become of all those? They have got to come back,
and they tend by natural law to come to the nations who have been most
active in sending them out of their possessions. It is quite natural, if
you think that we live under law, not by chance; and it is not, perhaps,
if I may say it with all respect, very wonderful that the people of Great
Britain have a rather extra share of those unfortunate savages to look
after. They come into the slum, and there they are born really savages.
If you look at them you call them congenital criminals. But they are
really young souls, without morality, without much brains, with a certain
craft and cunning and cleverness, but fundamentally young. Then you find
others who have come out of that lowest condition of savagery, but who
are not yet at the point where the restraints of the society that suits
the older souls are tolerable to them. And so you get a great crop
of occasional criminals, with the tendency to turn them into habitual
criminals. Then you have that other class I spoke of, the lopsided
people, whom I said were the most difficult to deal with; men who are
really clever, but turn their cleverness to plundering their fellows
instead of using it within the limitations of the law. That is a large
class. Sometimes they just go over the edge of the law, sometimes they
just keep within it, but from the social standpoint, remember, there are
many social criminals who always keep on what is sometimes called the
street-side of the law—that is, they do not go within the jail—such a
man as one I spoke of the other day, who had wrecked the railway system
of a whole district in order that out of that wreckage he might build
himself up an enormous fortune. He is not a burglar from the technical
standpoint, he is not a thief that a policeman might catch hold of, but
in the sight of karma, and in the sight of the eternal justice, that
man who by legal means has robbed thousands of others of their means of
livelihood is a worse thief than the one who has picked a pocket and is
thrown into jail. There are a good many things in a civilised country
which lie very nearly along the line of legal or illegal theft, a good
deal of which goes by the name of company-promoting, where it is just a
toss-up whether there is really fraud that can be proved; but with the
remarkable fact that while the companies always perish, and the people
who took shares are beggared, the company-promoter comes out at the top,
and becomes quite a successful person. Now all that, from the social
standpoint, is utterly immoral, but we cannot call them criminals in the
technical sense, although now and then they go a little too far, and then
the criminal law catches them.
How should those be dealt with who are really the young souls? how shall
we avoid turning them into habitual criminals as we do now?—for is there
anything more miserable and more shameful than that a man should go back
time after time till fifty, sixty convictions are registered against him
in the police court, and the sentence grows longer and longer because he
is a habitual criminal? He has been manufactured into that. You ought
not to treat a man who has committed a crime against your legal system
by consigning him to prison for seven days, or a month, or a year,
growing longer and longer and longer after every return to temporary
freedom. You don’t use people who are ill like that; you never find a
doctor committing a small-pox patient to a hospital for seven days,
nor a fever-stricken one for a month; they are committed until they
are cured, and that is the way in which you should deal with anyone of
marked criminal propensities. You should not punish, you should only
help; and you should take that child-soul and train him into decency of
living. For one thing, you should never have in your prisons any form
of useless labour as a punishment. The criminal who is really a savage
always dislikes labour; he is always idle—that is part of his youth; and
if you give him a form of labour that is punitive and not useful, you
only increase his natural disgust for every kind of labour, and make
him hate it more thoroughly when he comes out of jail than he did when
he went in. Taking up shot and carrying it to one side of the prison
yard, and then carrying it back again, or the useless torture of the
treadmill, these make criminals, they do not cure them.[1] You want, when
the criminal comes into your power, to take him in hand as you would
take a younger brother who does not know how to guide himself, and it
is your duty as the elder to guide him; you need to train him in some
honest trade whereby he might gain a livelihood; you need to discipline
him, not cruelly, but firmly and steadily; you need to lay down the very
wholesome law that if a man will not work neither shall he eat, and teach
him in the prison to earn his dinner before he enjoys it. You need to
set him to work at trades whereby he may earn his own living within the
walls of the jail; and if, after you have taught him a trade so that he
can earn his living, and outside the jail have found him an opportunity
of decent livelihood—if then he refuses to work, and comes back again
into your hands, then you should keep that discipline upon him until he
really is cured, even though it be for many and many a year, for you are
training him into better character. You might make the prison life less
of a disgrace than it is now; give him rational amusement, amusement that
will cultivate, instead of having him deadened by the continual feeling
of disgrace within the prison walls. You may restrain him—that may be
necessary for the welfare of society; but you should treat him as a
younger one in the national household, to be gradually trained up into
decent living; let the willingness to live the decent life be the only
key to the door of the jail.
But you may do much before there is any need to send them to prison at
all. There is a system which is just beginning here, called the Probation
System, one that has been worked in America with very great success,
and one that a late member of our Society, Miss Lucy Bartlett, has had
the immense privilege of introducing into Italy, so that it has been
made the law of the land. Now what is that system? When a young boy or
girl commits a first offence, he is not sent to jail if someone, a good
citizen, of decent standing and good life, will come forward in the court
and say: “I will take charge of that boy or girl, or young man or young
woman. I will be his friend and look after him.” Then the sentence is not
one of imprisonment; it is a sentence which is over the lad’s head for a
time; and if he will not be helped, then it is allowed to take effect.
But, as a matter of fact, that is very seldom the case. This man or woman
coming forward out of the more leisured classes of society, and becoming
a friend to that younger brother or sister, is, in the great majority of
cases, a means of redeeming that younger one from evil into good; the
older makes a friend of him, takes him out sometimes, talks with him,
trusts him really as a brother or a sister, and great is the redeeming
power of human love in restoring self-respect, and great the desire for
approval. Those are the motives that are brought to bear on one who has
only just set his feet on the path of criminality, and that in most
cases brings him back to virtue; and the friendship that began in the
probation goes on through the rest of life, strengthening, helping,
teaching both the helper and the helped. The system has been in operation
for some time now in America, long enough to test it; in Italy only
for some two or three years, too short a time; man after man and woman
after woman of the leisured classes has come forward to act as friend
and helper of the one who has come within the grip of the law. Surely no
better application of Brotherhood to criminal treatment could be found
than that; it is the realisation of the duty of those who are beyond the
temptation to vice to their youngers who have fallen under its power.
I can hardly leave this subject without saying a word on Capital
Punishment. That, of course, cannot find defence from anyone who realises
the principle of Brotherhood. Some of you may remember the saying of a
witty Frenchman: “Que messieurs les assassins commencent”; but it is
not from the lower that reforms begin, but from the higher. You cannot
expect your murderer to respect human life if you have taught him by
your criminal legislation that the right penalty for murder is to
murder again. True, one comes from passion and the other from the law;
but if the law does not teach respect for human life, how should the
passions of the criminal honour that sacredness? It is not only from that
general principle that you make human life cheap by destroying it, but
from another even more important. You cannot get rid of that murderer
of yours; you can only get rid of his body, and his body is the most
convenient prison in which you can keep him. You can lock up his body
and prevent him from committing any further murders, but you cannot
lock him up when you have driven him out of his body by the hangman’s
noose; you have not killed him, you cannot kill him, you have only
killed his body; and you have driven him out into that next world which
interpenetrates this world, and whose inhabitants are with us all the
time; you have sent him out into that other world hating, cursing, full
of anger and revenge against those who have cut short his life. He acts
as the instigator of other murders; he stimulates other criminals into
the last possibility of crime. Have you ever noticed that a brutal murder
is sometimes repeated over and over again in the same community until you
get a cycle of murders of one particular kind? I know, of course, that
the Press, in reporting every detail of those horrors, adds the forces
of imagination to the power of temptation which comes from the man you
have sent to the other side. In a civilised country no such details of
brutal crime should ever be given; people should understand that that
stimulates the faculty of imitation, and so makes repetition of the crime
more likely. Another reason why you should never send a man out like that
is, that when the criminal is in your hands, remembering the lives that
lie in front of him, you should try to give him something to take with
him into the other world which he can turn into capacity and moral sense;
you should remember he will come back again to a physical body, and it is
your duty to make that next birth of his as much an improvement on the
present as it is possible for human thought and human love to make it. We
have a duty to these young souls around us in order that they may profit
by our civilisation, and not suffer from it as they too often do to-day.
When you turn to economics, what will be the result of Brotherhood there?
The detailed working out of that problem will certainly need the keenest
intellects in order to devise some scheme of production and distribution
which shall make human life less burdened on the one side, less full of
useless luxury on the other. But not along the rough-and-ready lines
of the Socialism of the streets are these great and difficult problems
rightly to be solved. You need to solve them by the most careful
consideration of all the problems which are interlinked the one with the
other. Some system of general co-operation, of general profit-sharing, or
something along those lines, will be the principle on which the changed
conditions will go; but while you will make the lot of the toilers far
lighter and happier, you will never give to the ignorant the control
over that on which their food supply depends; for that means ruin. Let
me give you one illustration to show you what I mean. There have been a
large number of strikes in this country for years and years past, and
there is no doubt that many of those were brought about by the greed of
the employing class, and by the unfair treatment of the workers; but none
the less they have in more than one case—in fact, in many cases—reduced
the workers to a lower condition than they were in before. I was up at
Tyneside the other day. Newcastle with its adjoining ports, Sunderland,
and the whole coast along there, was once one of the great shipbuilding
centres in England. Strike after strike made shipbuilding impossible to
carry on, because the men could not pay their way. The result is that
it has ceased to be a great shipbuilding district; that the trade has
largely gone away from the Tyneside, and that those parts are falling
into decay. You cannot blame the men who struck; they tried to get better
conditions for themselves; they did not understand the difficulties
of all these large commercial firms, and that they might readily make
shipbuilding impossible for the shipbuilder by pressing for a particular
rate of wage which was not too much for them, but more than at the time
the exigencies of the trade enabled the shipbuilder to pay. And so on
and on in endless cases. Careful thought and deliberate judgment are
wanted. Many proposals have been made by the trades unions themselves—a
sliding scale of wages, arbitration boards, and so on—all steps in the
right direction. But your difficulty with arbitration boards is that
their decision is not always accepted. When people go to arbitration
they hope to get a decision on their own side; when it does not come
out, they are not always willing to submit. When I was in New Zealand
last year there had been a great struggle between employers and men; at
last both applied to the arbitration court, but when the decision was
given against the men, the men refused to go back to work. You cannot
play that way with these great economic questions; no one trade should
ever decide entirely for itself what should be the rate of wage that it
is possible for the employers to pay, for the question is complicated
by many considerations; it is not one trade, but it is the balance of
all trades on which the ultimate decision has to turn. Hence the need of
ability, of power to understand, of wide study of economic questions
which no handiworker is able to give. There is where the difficulty comes
in, and where there is need on both sides of a spirit which shall seek
the common good; otherwise at the end there is only more trouble than
before, and the trade vanishes where the conditions for carrying it on
are made impossible. Exactly the same thing is going on now in Australia.
The men who know conditions of mining and things of that sort are laying
down the wages which shipping companies must pay to their sailors. When a
P. and O. boat, for instance, goes within the waters of Australia, they
will soon be compelled to pay their men at the particular rate of pay
which has been fixed on economic conditions in Australia. What will be
the result? The P. and O. boats will not go; they cannot ruin themselves
to please the Australian working-men; hence the means of communication
will be very largely cut off; and when the harm is done, it is too late
then to cry out for the remedy. Those are the kind of things that are
going on in every direction with the coming of manual workers into power,
because the attempt to rule has come before the conditions of rule have
been understood.
It is very much the same when you come to deal with all questions of
Woman’s Labour. Woman claims the right to labour, but very often she has
forgotten that employers can play upon certain characteristics of the
woman that nothing can alter, because they are fundamental and natural.
When a woman has taken up the trade of the wife and the mother, and then
goes out to work in the mill, leaving the children behind and the baby
uncared for save by hired care, then wages are driven down because she
is willing to work for lower wages, knowing the misery of the children
she has left at home; then comes the playing-off of the wife against the
husband, of the woman against the man; the children are the sufferers
from the taking away of the mother to work in the mill, and the man is
turned out to walk the streets because cheaper female labour has taken
his place. These are some of the complicated difficulties that arise out
of what seems the simple thing of allowing a woman to sell her labour.
Women and men can never be equal in the labour market, because the woman
is the childbearer, and there comes in the difference, and the question
of the nation’s health and vigour. She can never command the same wage as
the man, because, as I once heard brutally said when I was complaining
about the starvation wage of some match-girls: “There is always another
way the woman has to increase her income.” That is true, pitifully true;
but it puts her at a disadvantage in the struggle of the labour market.
That which seemed so promising at first has only increased the stress of
economic conditions, has turned the man out into the streets while the
woman is trying to do the double work of the mill and the home. That is
an impossible condition of things, for which a remedy will have to be
found.
And so to deal with these economic questions we want the best brains and
the best hearts, the widest knowledge and the deepest sympathy. Those,
and those only, can solve these terrible economic problems of the time.
You cannot solve them by any rough-and-ready means, nor by any quick and
sudden means. You must solve them by wisdom and by love, and by realising
the nation’s interest is a common interest, not of class against class,
but of union of all for the common good of the community.
But then it is said: What about politics? On the detail of that, frankly,
I have naught to say, for I am concerned only with principles. But one
thing I would like to put to you, coming back to that point of liberty
with which I started. People have supposed that liberty means a vote. You
could not have a bigger blunder. Liberty and the vote have practically
nothing in common. The vote gives you the power to make laws, to coerce
other people; it by no means gives you necessarily liberty for yourself.
We have never yet had, as I said, liberty upon earth. We have had class
legislation of every kind in England, but liberty never. Go back in
history and you find the Kings ruling, and that built up the one nation
of England. Then the Barons ruled, and they did not on the whole do so
badly, for England was called Merrie England then, and certainly no one
would dream of applying that name to it now. Then there came the England
of Parliaments, getting duller and duller, deader and deader; then the
England of Commercialism. And who is our ruler now? Neither King nor
Lords nor Parliament altogether, but on the one side King Purse, and
King Mob on the other. Neither of those is a ruler who is likely to
make this nation great. Liberty is a great celestial Goddess, strong,
beneficent, and austere, and she can never descend upon a nation by the
shouting of crowds, nor by the arguments of unbridled passion, nor by
hatred of class against class. Liberty will never descend upon earth in
outer matters until she has first descended into the hearts of men, and
until the higher Spirit which is free has dominated the lower nature, the
nature of passions and strong desires, and the will to hold for oneself
and to trample upon others. You can only have a free nation when you
have free men to build it out of—free men and women both; but no man is
free and no woman is free who is under the dominance of appetite, or
vice, or drunkenness, or any form of evil which he is unable to control.
Self-control is the foundation on which alone freedom can be built.
Without that you have anarchy, not freedom; and every increase of the
present anarchy is paid for by the price of happiness, which is given
in exchange. But when Freedom comes, she will come down to a nation
in which every man and every woman will have learned self-control and
self-mastery; and then, and then only, out of such men who are free,
out of such women who are free, strong, righteous, ruling their own
nature and training it to the noblest ends—of such only can you build up
political freedom, which is the result of the freedom of the individual,
and not the outcome of the warring passions of men.
Lecture V
The Coming Race
Friends: Some of you who have been attending this course of lectures may
remember that in speaking of the new doors opening in religion, science,
and art, I made a somewhat hasty and imperfect reference to changes that
would be taking place in the human organism and an unfolding of the
human consciousness, and I promised, in that brief statement, to return
to the subject when I was to deal with “The Coming Race.” The nature,
the character of that unfolding of consciousness, the changes in the
bodily organism of man that will accompany those unfolding powers in
consciousness, and make it possible for them to be manifested in our
physical world—those changes naturally fall under the heading which I
have taken for to-night’s discourse, “The Coming Race.” For it is of one
of these great changes in the type of humanity that I have specially to
speak to you to-night. In order to lead your thoughts to that rationally,
and without gaps or chasms, I shall ask you to consider with me for a
few moments certain great principles of study which we find continually
used by the Mystics of the past, and in our own day adopted to a very
considerable extent by modern science. The reason why science has
adopted them is the same reason that made Mystics originally work them
out, and that is, that science in our own time has been dealing with such
enormous periods of growth, with such vast extent of these periods, that
the scientific man cannot observe; that he is obliged to try to find a
principle by which, observing what is near, he may be able, by a process
of induction, to discover what is far off.
Now, this principle is called the principle of correspondences. You
find it, as I said, used by Mystics of all types in the past: the great
scientist-mystic, Swedenborg, of Sweden, based a very large part of his
thought on the system of correspondences, of trying to discover what was
far off and extensive by a study of that which was near and comparatively
small. So in our own day with regard to science; and I remind you first
of that in order to show you that in using this principle we are on
ground which is recognised as being firm and stable, and is adopted
in all the greater researches which have to deal with the distant and
the extensive. Science has made specially good use of this system of
correspondences in two lines of its thought: one, that of evolutionary
growth, illuminated by the study of embryology; the other, that of
the evolution of consciousness in humanity at large, illuminated by
an observation of consciousness in the child, the youth, and the man.
If, for a moment, we stop on the great evolutionary series or cycles
of the past, we shall at once recognise that direct observation is
only possible to a very small extent. It is true that by the aid of
geology many buried skeletons of the past may be brought to the surface
and examined, and thus light may be thrown on the various classes to
which the skeletons in the time of the living animal belonged. Fossil
remains certainly help us to a very great extent in trying to study the
evolutionary past of our globe; but, as everyone knows who has studied
the geological record, that record has large gaps occurring in it from
time to time. It is exceedingly imperfect, exceedingly unsatisfactory,
and only along some limited lines of evolutionary study is it possible
to find from the fossils of the past the principle of life as it has
gradually grown and branched upon our earth. Hence, in the difficulty of
thus unveiling the past, evolutionists have turned to the study of the
near, the growth of the individual, the stages through which his body
passes, especially during ante-natal life, and it was very largely the
study of embryology that threw light on the evolutionary truth. For it
is observed, in tracing the growth of the human body of the individual,
that it passes through certain clear, definite, marked stages. There is a
stage at which the characteristics are those of the fish, bringing about
some very curious results as regards especially the distribution of some
of the nerves; then a stage which is that of the reptile; then a stage
which is that of the mammal; and so on up to the highest in the mammalian
kingdom, man himself. From the standpoint of mere observation from
outside, without use of reason, this sequence invariably followed would
say little, would signify little; but when man looks at that with the eye
of reason, and not only observes the succession of certain stages, but
applies his reason to solve the problem as to why those stages constantly
appear, then it is he realises that in the body of the individual the
whole evolutionary course of nature is traced and repeated; that in
that highest, the human, form all the past history of the evolution of
forms is broadly indicated; and that while, of course, details cannot be
observed, the great succession is seen there, the invariable sequence
ever repeated in the highest, the noblest form. And, working back with
the light of that, science was then able to recognise very clearly the
evolutionary stages of which geology yielded up its imperfect fossil
record; for there it found the great age of the fishes, with no higher
form of vertebrate life existing; then it found the age of the reptiles,
then that of the mammals, finally the human kingdom; and looking over the
past in that way, illuminated by the observations of the present, science
recognised the truth of that ancient principle of correspondences which
serves as a clue in distant regions where observations well-nigh fail
us, and enables us, by the use of analogy, to trace our way among the
labyrinths of the past.
It is not only along this line of æonian evolution and embryological
growth that science has found help from this application of the principle
of correspondences. It has found that not only in the state of bodies
but also in the state of minds the same principle serves as its best
clue once again in the labyrinth of the past. It has found out that the
stages of human consciousness may be traced from the earliest stage
of the will to live, then upwards through the unfolding consciousness
of the child, in the stage of passions of the youth, in the stage of
mentality dominating the maturity of man; and it goes along these lines
into very much of detail, showing us how at a certain stage the child is
reproducing the savage condition of consciousness; how a little later
it grows out of that into the passional and barbarous; then through
that into the emotional, where art and beauty begin to show themselves
as outgrowths from human nature; and then on, at later stages, to that
splendid mentality which it regards as the crown of human consciousness.
Along these lines, which will be familiar to all the thoughtful and the
cultured amongst you, science has been led to new discoveries, has been
able in this fashion to find out many of the hidden things of nature.
But while this is true, there is a point at which science always stops.
It uses correspondences to explain the past; it never struck science to
use them to try to forecast the future; and naturally, for along the
scientific line such forecast of the future is practically impossible;
science works by induction, not by deduction, gathers together
innumerable facts, arranges them, classifies them, compares them, and
out of all that gathering, arrangement, and comparison it tries to find
by a process of logical induction some great principle in which all the
classified facts find their explanation, and thus a law is discovered.
But further than that induction cannot take us. It cannot take us beyond
the facts that are observed. Nothing in the facts observed presages
that which is to come; and it is only when you use the other logical
method—not that of induction, which is the scientific plan, but that of
deduction, which we find in the philosophies of the past, which we find
in the one perfect science, the science of mathematics, the Platonic
method as against that of Aristotle—it is only then that we find it
possible by a process of deduction not only to explain the past, but also
to draw out a chart of the future. And it is by using that noble form
of logical thought that Occult Science has ever been able to presage
the future from the principles that it finds existing in the universe,
unfolding stage by stage. I want, if I can, now to show you how that
method may be applied; how, knowing the nature of man, we may be able
from that to indicate not only the past through which he has come from
far beyond the range of what is recognised as history, but also to throw
a light along the road that mankind will travel in the future, seeing the
heights up which he will climb, realising the powers yet hidden within
the partially unfolded and evolved man.
There is one other thing that will help us a little as well as the
principle of correspondences, but, so far as I know, this other clue
of ours has not been adopted or used in modern science. I say, so far
as I know, for science is going on so rapidly at the present time
that it is not possible to keep abreast with all the details of the
later investigations. This second principle is called the principle
of reflexion. As you may have a mountain reflected in a lake, and all
the peculiarities, the outlines, the foliage on the mountainside, will
be reproduced in the calm water of the lake that washes the foot of
the mountain; as in that reflexion the highest in the object will be
reflected as the lowest in the image, and as at every intermediate point
where the mountain is reproduced in the image, the reflexion of the
mountain, there will be a reversal, the higher being the lower, and so
on, until you come to the point of junction between water and mountain,
and there the nearest to you on the mountain will be reflected in the
nearest to you on the water—just so may we in studying man understand
something of him by regarding him as a reflexion of divinity, the great
threefold aspect of divine life showing itself out in man. But you may
ask me: What do you exactly mean when you say reflexion? I mean the
reproduction of similar characteristics in a grosser and denser form
of matter. That is what we mean by reflexion thus applied. Just as the
mountain which you see by the air is reflected in the denser water, so
are spiritual attributes reflected in grosser matter; or, otherwise
expressed, the same, or rather a similar characteristic, works in grosser
matter; therefore with powers more limited, therefore with faculties less
potent. That is the use we make of this term “reflexion” in theosophical
literature. The characteristics are the same, but because of the denser
matter their manifestation is limited and confined. So the great Will
which brings the universe into existence is reflected in the Will to
Live in man; and as that is the highest manifestation of Deity, so,
reflected in man, does it appear at the lowest stage of evolution as the
one prominent characteristic of the dawning human consciousness. In the
babe, that will to live is practically the only sign of consciousness,
showing itself out in groping movements, whereby the will to live is
striving to come into contact with the outer world and discover something
of its environment. And so the second great manifestation of Deity, the
Wisdom-Love which in the Christian nomenclature shows itself out in the
person of the Son, that reflected in human nature comes out as the
emotions, the refined, gentle, unselfish emotions that form the second
great stage of human consciousness, beginning with the lowest stage of
passion, and gradually rising unbroken to the loftiest manifestation of
emotion; and then the third, the creative activity, which, again, in the
Christian nomenclature would be the creative Spirit, shows itself out
in man’s one creative power, the power of the mind, of which one of the
expressions is imagination, that which creates with the intellectual
force of man. The correspondence, you see, is complete, but how limited
the manifestation compared with the manifestation on the planes of
divinity. Hence this limited reflexion, this limited reproduction, we
term the law of reflexion; and we very often find it hand in hand with
the law of correspondences, giving us a clue once more to guide us
through difficulties and obscurities where direct vision might fail.
Let us begin at that point I spoke of with regard to the human being.
Now, by this process of deduction, and seeing in man the image of the
Supreme, we are not compelled to stop our study when we have taken these
three stages—the stage of the will to live showing itself in activity,
the stage of passion and emotion, the stage of mentality; for we see
that above those there shine out the three same attributes of Deity in
subtler, finer form that we call the human Spirit, and that this human
Spirit, reproducing in itself the three great aspects, tells us of the
future, as the lower reflexions tell us of the past. So that we cannot
only trace, as science does, the unfolding of consciousness through the
vast ages of the past, but we can follow it onwards into the future,
where that higher repetition of divinity is gradually unfolding, and
trace out for ourselves man’s higher qualities, the later stages of human
evolution.
Now, it is true that in this the theory is not complete and perfect
unless you recognise the fundamental truth of Reincarnation. No
otherwise can you trace the unfolding of the divine Spirit in man,
save by giving him time and environment by which these successive
stages may be accomplished. For, looking at humanity, we see that very
many men disappeared in the savage state, where only the preliminary
stage of human consciousness had been unfolded; others we find coming
into the world above the savage state, but showing out only passions,
strong, selfish emotions; others, again, further on, showing out mental
powers, and in them the mind becoming predominant. But unless you admit
here a sequential unfolding of the individual consciousness, you will
find yourself surrounded by complicated difficulties when you try to
understand human evolution; for if you follow those consciousnesses
onwards, thinking they are never to return to the school of life to learn
the lessons that they have not learned in the infant school of savage
life, then you will have to posit a heaven or heavens, one of which
is full of these souls that have only accomplished savagery on earth;
another that is full of those that have reached the emotional stage
without having started and laid the foundation of the savage; a third
that show forth mind, but not the will to live of the savage, nor the
emotion of the half-cultivated man. And so you get a world on the other
side more fantastic than rational, and you realise that somehow or other
in your scheme of things you must make room for _post-mortem_ evolution;
and the very moment you adopt that, that moment you have accepted the
principle of reincarnation, even though you may choose to carry it on in
other worlds rather than in the present.[2] With that, of course, other
difficulties arise, but on those I need not for the moment dwell, as I
do not want to deal fully with reincarnation now. But suppose you accept
it, then the whole thing is rational before you—a spiritual intelligence
unfolding in one stage after another, and building each stage on the one
that preceded. If you apply that to the evolution of the reincarnating
individual, you see the stage of the child, the stage of the youth, the
stage of the man, and you await the unfolding of the spiritual man. Or if
you choose to look at it in the vast cycles of the past, then you will
realise that you have before you animal man, passional man, intellectual
man, and you can hardly stop without thinking next of spiritual man—the
four stages that you can trace by this principle that I spoke of, the
deduction from the divine life leading you onwards to the stage not
yet unfolded, save in some lofty specimens of humanity. And when you
have just seen these stages so thoroughly reproducing at each point
of enlarging sight the other in yourself—the four stages visible—the
three and the dawning of the next; then in the whole reincarnating life
of the individual the same three and the dawning of the next; then in
evolution the same three and the possibility of the next—it does not
seem strange then to come on to the races, as the Theosophist does, and
to see in the early human race—that which is really the first that can
truly be called human, although there preceded it a semi-animal man—the
birth of our present humanity. We call it the Lemurian Race; and it is
interesting that Haeckel points to the lost continent of Lemuria as that
which was the cradle of the human race; so does modern science every now
and again touch on these teachings of the elder world. In that Lemurian
Race was shown the strong will to live; then came the Atlantean, that
which lived on the vast continent of Atlantis, the existence of which
is being recognised more and more by science by logical necessity, as
it cannot get geological evidence or antiquarian evidence, the greater
part of the continent being whelmed beneath the Atlantic Ocean. Still,
antiquarian research gives us something by pointing out to us identities
of racial characteristics in places now separated by that same vast
Atlantic Ocean. And archæology shows us in ancient Egypt, in the style
of its painting, in the symbols that it used, nay, even in some of the
human types that it limned, exactly the same symbols, the same types,
the same outlines of philosophical and religious thought as in Southern
Mexico, in a civilisation long since disappeared, that was swept away
by the Aztec civilisation, which had become ancient and corrupt when
the Spaniards invaded Mexico. In those two far removed portions of the
earth’s surface, separated by the Atlantic, we find the repetition of
one in the other. And there are many other reasons on which I need
not now dwell, similarities of fauna and flora, certain architectural
likenesses, and so on, which are all leading scientific men onwards to
the recognition of the great continent of Atlantis. Just as the men of
the Lemurian continent showed out only that will to live in clumsiest
form, so did the men of the Atlantean continent show out passion,
appetite, desire, the whole of their civilisation showing the marks
of this predominant passional nature; that which might be expected in
theory showed itself out in fact. With that went—as always goes with
the passional and non-intellectual type—a great development of what in
these days we call the lower form of psychism. We apply that term, as our
knowledge of these powers grows more precise, to the way of seeing the
invisible, hearing the inaudible, and so on, that we find in some members
of the animal kingdom; that we find largely developed in savage nations;
that we find showing themselves out sometimes among the dwellers in
mountains and in vast spaces where the air is pure, where nature is still
in a fairly primitive condition. It is not precise, exact science under
the control of the will; it seems to be responsive to impressions of
passions, emotions; very rarely, if ever, to impressions from the mind.
And so, looking back on the great Atlantean peoples, we see them showing
out these forms of psychism that we connect with the higher animal and
with the lower human evolution before mentality has been very largely
developed, before the nervous system characteristic of the modern man has
dominated the sympathetic system more characteristic of the animal. And
then we come to a time when we can glance backward and see the method
of the evolution of a new race, giving many an indication to help us
in our study of the Coming Race of our own time. For, looking back into
that far-off history, we see a selection going on among the Atlantean
people, and we notice that the selection was made not amongst those
who had carried the Atlantean type to its highest and most triumphant
point, but, on the contrary, from a subdivision of that race—a sub-race,
as we call it—in which those qualities did not show which had made
Atlantis great and mighty, but in which there were more germs than in
the triumphant Atlantean of the coming development—that of the mind.
Some of you will be familiar with the name of the Toltec, the race, or
rather sub-race, in which the Atlantean civilisation touched its highest
point. Not from those were the germs of the Aryan race chosen; rather
from the succeeding sub-race, in which, as I said, mental qualities
were beginning to assert themselves, with the inevitable result that as
those qualities became manifest, the others, the psychic, fell into the
background. Look round to-day and you will see how true that still is
with the ordinary uncultivated, untrained psychic; how very low is the
stage of the intelligence, very little mental power going hand-in-hand
with that lower kind of psychism; and so the people who were chosen to be
the germs of our own great Race were not amongst the most admired of the
Atlantean civilisation, but were rather looked down upon as not showing
out these faculties which then were regarded as the most valuable, as
falling below the triumphant type of the Toltec, as people of little
account, and yet people who had in them the promise of the future. Then
the gathering of those together, the isolating of them from the rest of
the then civilised world; the deliberate breeding of them into a type
which was aimed at. For all the great types of human kind exist in the
mind of the Logos before they are made manifest in the matter of our
earth—first the idea, then the manifestation; and the seven great types
which were to make up the humanity of our globe in the present cycle of
its existence, those existed as Ideas in the Platonic sense of the word,
those were the types towards which the great Powers guided the evolution
of humanity; and when the highest point was being touched at the fourth,
then came the preparation for the birth of the fifth. The same great
laws which, on a far lower scale, are used by the ordinary scientific
gardener or scientific breeder of cattle, when he is trying to develop a
new type that exists in his mind, remember, before he tries to work it
out in petals of flower or flesh and blood of animal, that ideal type
to which the scientific breeder directs his efforts, those laws help
him to-day which, on a far loftier level and for mightier purposes,
were used by the great Ruler of the Coming Race in order to shape the
ideal type that now we know as the Aryan. If you compare one of the men
of Kashmir, in Northern India, with your best Caucasian type, you will
find they closely resemble the one the other, evidently replicas of the
same type. I choose the man of Kashmir especially, because he is fair
of skin, owing to his living in a temperate clime, and because from the
shutting in of his land from communication with other countries, due to
the difficulty of reaching his fellows—owing to that the type has been
kept purer there than probably anywhere else upon earth. Fair of skin,
blue- or violet-eyed, with hair brown in varying shades, with features
sharply cut, delicate lips, thin and well-formed nose, there you have one
of the finest types of human beauty existing upon earth. You find that
type reproduced over and over again, with varying modifications as the
sub-races develop, but the one type is everywhere visible; and in the
shape of the head, with the forehead largely developed, with the place in
the brain where all intellectual faculties can be made manifest, in that
type of head you have the type of mentality, the Race that is to carry to
the highest point the possibilities of the human intellect. As you come
down, looking at the sub-races, the same strange point strikes you as we
saw with regard to the psychic Atlantean, and the comparatively psychic
sub-race from which our own was gradually built up. Compare together the
refined Roman, luxurious, well-built, cultured, and the Goth, who was
the origin of the Teutonic sub-race; there again you see the same thing,
the contrast with the regnant type of the apparently lower type, the
one that has in it the promise of rising higher than its predecessor.
Judging by analogy, following along similar lines of thought, we can very
readily understand to-day that the type of the Coming Race will not be
that which is the triumph of the present, but rather those in whom the
characteristics of the present are less developed, but which have in
them the germ of something more, which can unfold in the far-off future
into a greater splendour, a diviner manifestation. So that when we are
looking for those who are the beginnings of the Coming Race, we should
not look for them to-day among those in whom our Aryan peoples show
out the highest types of mentality, of intellect, of power, of thought.
Their work is to carry on the present civilisation to the zenith. Who
but they can lead it to the highest point? They have developed the mind
which is the great characteristic of this fifth Teutonic sub-race;
theirs the mission, theirs the privilege, to guide that sub-race to its
highest point of achievement. They only, whose intellect is so loftily
developed, are fit to guide the present civilisation to the point of
glory which it has yet to reach, and it is they who are the leaders of
the triumphant type of to-day, they to whom our present race looks up
as the ideal of all that is most splendid in intellectual power. Not
amongst them, then, should we seek the beginnings of the Coming Race, of
the Race that shall be; for, using our principle of correspondences, we
can see that now we must look for the germinating of the spiritual man,
not of the intellectual; that which is beyond intellect, that which is
higher than the scientific mind, the qualities that have shone out in the
great religious teachers of the past, the qualities that characterised
the Buddha, the Christ, are the spiritual qualities as apart from the
intellectual; and it is the germinating of those qualities now which will
make the origin of the Race that is to be.
But we can see in the race of the present signs of the changing evolution
which shall gradually show out the coming type of consciousness, which
shall gradually adapt the bodies to the fuller manifestation of the
qualities that shall gradually unfold. For what is the great mark of such
spiritual types of humanity, what the quality that shines out above all
others wherever they appear upon earth? It is that quality that to-day
we name Brotherhood, the recognition of that unity of life which makes
for all-embracing compassion and boundless self-sacrifice. Those are the
types that we see in these great Ones of our race, they who have unfolded
the spiritual nature, who show out the glory of the Spirit. It is very
marked that in every one of those mighty Teachers of the past this is the
quality which above all others shines out as their distinguishing mark
among the men of the generation in which they are born. The love of the
helpless and the weak, the effort ever to raise those who are downtrodden
and oppressed, the effort to share, to uplift, to make happy—in a word,
to save; that is the great spiritual characteristic of all the Saviours
of the world, and therefore at the present time those are making ready
for the beginning of the Coming Race who show out in conception and in
practice their belief in the universal Brotherhood of man. They may be
less developed in intellect, that is not what is for the moment wanted
from them; they may be less glorious in the triumphs of the mind, that
is not the material that is needed specially for the Coming Race; it
is these higher qualities of the Spirit that must be looked for by the
Leader of that Race as the material which gradually He can mould into
the type He has in His mind, and so out of those germinal possibilities
evolve the Man that shall be.
Now let us pause for a moment and ask what are the special marks of
that Race in consciousness and in body. In consciousness, clearly the
recognition of unity. That is essential; for what the intellect divides
the Spirit unites. The recognition of life in each rather than of the
separated form, the recognition of the one Self in all rather than the
separated selves that are marked out by the separated bodies, that will
be the great mark in consciousness, the new unfolding; wherever that
recognition of unity is made, there is one of the signs of the Coming
Race. And then, side by side with that, growing inevitably out of it, a
breadth and liberality of tolerance will mark those in whom the sense
of unity is beginning to unfold. All that is narrow and exclusive, all
that tends to separate one from another, all that emphasises differences
instead of emphasising likenesses, all those are against the unfolding of
the consciousness that knows the One in the many, and recognises Divinity
in all. With that unfolding consciousness will come a type of body of
which there are beginning to be many amongst us to-day. When there is
going to be a variation which will start a new evolutionary type, it
is always noted that those out of whom the variation grows are what is
called unstable. Instability is the mark of progress, or of degeneration.
There is the instability of health, but also of disease; and with the
changing type of the nervous system you find this instability present
in both its forms. If you look around you at the present time, what is
one of the marks of the bodies in the most advanced races of the earth?
Nervous troubles of every kind, and most marked amongst the most highly
developed. It is needless to draw your attention to that; everyone knows
it. The greater tension of the nervous system shows itself out amongst
us in all kinds of different ways; saddest of all, in the extraordinary
increase of madness in the most highly civilised nations of the world.
Lunatic asylums are always multiplying, for as soon as a new one is built
it gets filled, and another is demanded. That is the sad sight when
we are looking around, looking for the Coming Race; the present race
suffers by the very conditions that that race has made for itself; all
the separative conditions of competition, struggle, class and individual
and trade antagonism, all these are destructive to the evolving nervous
system of man. The environment is impossible, the conditions ruinous for
the evolution of a finer, more delicate nervous organisation; and yet the
resistless force of nature presses onwards against the human race, forces
it onwards whether it will go or not, and the evolutionary forces cannot
be opposed save at the risk of destruction.
Now that is one of the lessons that needs to come out of these studies
for the immediate guiding of our own lives to-day. We are living in an
environment that is destructive of the higher evolution, and at our peril
we leave it as it is when the Coming Race must inevitably be born. If we
would go on we must adapt ourselves, and that adaptation is the crying
need of the time. For amongst us to-day are being born children in whom
this finer nervous organisation is showing itself already, children
of delicate nervous type, but not necessarily at all unhealthy; often
perfectly healthy, but with the nervous system so delicately poised that
it is always in danger of jar and injury. There must be many amongst you
who know that out of your own personal experience as fathers and mothers;
there may be born into your family a little child whose nervous system
is so delicate, so exquisitely poised, that the child is very readily
thrown out of balance, and suffers quite abnormally. One thing that it
is very necessary for the fathers and mothers of the time to understand
is, that as these children come to them for protection, for training,
for help, they must remember that they have there organisms which suffer
and enjoy more keenly than organisms that are less delicately, less
exquisitely balanced. Such a child feels pain where a child of rougher
type would pass through unnoticing. The intense joy which, on the other
hand, marks such an organism is always balanced with periods of intense
depression. Such children should be guarded as far as possible from
all that can jar and trouble. It is useless to try to make them live
in the surroundings that suit those whose nervous systems are not so
fine. On the contrary, it is the duty of the parent to try to provide
for such children gentler and more harmonious surroundings, realising
that without those the delicate instrument would be jarred and thrown
out of tune, so that that from which the most lovely melodies might have
been drawn will be only an instrument fit to be thrown away, destroyed.
Think for a moment of the conditions under which you are living now in
London. During the last ten years London has become almost intolerable
to live in, if only for the noise, the continual rattle, the shrieking
and hooting that fill the streets; the shaking of the very earth itself
under the heavy vehicles of all sorts that we place upon it. London is
becoming a city where to live in peace you would want to go about with
cotton-wool stuffed into your ears and spectacles over your eyes so
that you might not see too clearly, and with your nose closed so that
you might not smell the horrible smells with which the streets are
continually filled. Literally, what will have to be done is this: all
the more refined and cultured people will have to go out of these huge
towns and leave them to the people who like them. For remember, there
are many people who like them; there are plenty of people who enjoy
the rattle and the noise and the tumult of a London street. There are
plenty of country peasants who, if you bring them up to London, like it
enormously; but if you take the London lad or lass and put them down
the country they say how frightfully quiet and dull it is. Why not let
the great cities go to the people who like them, who will be helped
to evolve by them? For, mind, that which is destructive to a delicate
nervous system is the necessary stimulus for the evolution of a nervous
system of a lower and coarser type. I do not want to abolish all these
great cities at all; but I would say to any who feel the suffering which
grows out of the noise and the rush and the hurry. Your place is no
longer here, and, above all, it is no place for the children. For the
finer the organisation of the father and the mother from the nervous
standpoint, the finer will be the nervous organisation of the child; and
if they suffer from it, their best policy is to leave London for the
country, and surround themselves and the children of the Coming Race with
sweeter and better environments. It is not only that these vast towns
that are deforming and defacing England are an impossible environment
for the Coming Race; we must also adapt ourselves to the new conditions
by changes of food, by changes of method in ordinary living. The food
that the great majority of people now use, flesh, is utterly unsuited
to the finer type of nervous organisation. You may notice how people of
a finer type shrink from it instinctively. Children of a finer type,
when they realise that meat was a living thing, will turn aside from it
with disgust, and leave it untouched. That instinctive dislike is one
of the things that will be growing very much amongst the little ones;
more and more will they revolt against the use of flesh. But it would
be wise not only to notice how that revolt is growing, but deliberately
to avoid the use of such articles of diet yourself, if you desire to
train your bodies into a preparation for the Coming Race. For the body
which is nourished on flesh and on the many forms of alcohol is a body
which will be thrown out of health by the opening up of the higher
consciousness; and nervous diseases are partly due to the fact that the
higher consciousness is trying to express itself through bodies clogged
with flesh-products and poisoned with alcohol. For, let me take a point
of very great importance which has direct bearing upon this. As the new
bodies develop, and the higher, more nervous organisation of the physical
body grows, the next of your bodies, the astral, will become more and
more highly organised year by year. The organisation of that next body
of yours, of finer matter than the physical, is going on very rapidly
at the present time under the pressure of thought, which all educated
and cultured people use at least to some extent. As that body becomes
more highly organised, its special sense-organs come into activity, and
then we have what is called a higher psychism, which is not the result
of an astral body unorganised and vibrating to every passing wind of
emotion, but of a body highly organised, with its own senses developed,
and those senses seeking to express themselves through the grosser body
of the physical plane. Now there is one organ in your brain which is the
sixth sense, the sense through which all these astral cognitions, astral
emotions, will show themselves down in your own waking consciousness,
and that is the body which very much puzzles many of our doctors and
scientific men—the pituitary body. That is not, as many of them think, a
mere vestigial organ left from the past; it is that, but it is also the
organ of which the finer internal differentiation is making the sense for
the higher psychic powers of the Coming Race. Now that is matter of fact
known to the occult student, because he sees that development going on
in his own case and in the case of others around him; and in proportion
as that finer and well-organised astral body hands down into the brain
the various things which it cognises, so does he find the pituitary body
functioning, so does he experience changes that go on in that. Now, that
body, according to one of the latest discoveries of modern science, is
at once affected by the vapours of alcohol; it is one of the glands of
the body which are most readily poisoned, and even a very small amount
of alcohol poisons the pituitary body, and chokes its highest evolution.
Obviously, then, if you want to ease that, if you want at this stage of
evolution to put a little evolutionary pressure even on the bodies of
the fifth Race, and thus ease that, one of the first things that should
be said to you is: Never touch alcohol at all in any form, for if you
do the vibrations of the alcohol poison the very means of communication
between the astral and the physical bodies, and the developing of them
to higher purposes is one of the marks of the Coming Race, the means
whereby it will sense the astral world in waking consciousness; hence
the instruction that you will have from everyone who is speaking of this
and understands the conditions: Do not only give up all forms of flesh,
but also take care that your diet is free from every trace of alcohol.
Now, these are laws of nature that you cannot get over; and if you make
up your mind to cling to the fifth Race way of diet, then you must be
content to remain fifth Race, and go no further. No one wants you to go
further than you wish to go, but the conditions are unchangeable, and
the more that is recognised the better will it be. Above all, with those
children that I have been mentioning, take care not to try to force them
in any way, nor to induce them to take those articles of diet which will
injure their growing delicacy of nervous organisation, and destroy that
developing organ in the brain by which they will bring their knowledge
through into ordinary life.
Then let me remind you of the way in which this may be done. Let us
suppose that you desire to hasten the coming of the Coming Race; let
us suppose that you are not willing to wait for the slow processes of
nature, lasting hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of years, but
want to co-operate with nature, as we ought to do to-day, having reached
the stage of evolution that we have reached, where human intelligence
can quicken the workings of nature. The first thing that you must do
is to make meditation a part of your daily life. Now, meditation has
three stages: first, the reining in of the wandering mind, the checking
of its thinking from one point to another continually in activity; then
the fixing of that controlled mind on a single object of thought; then
the contemplation of that object in order that it may be reproduced in
yourself. That process of meditation is the way in which the unfolding
consciousness may be definitely stimulated, and there is no other healthy
and sane way. By a daily practice of that sort, the fixing of your mind
either on the ideal Self or on some ideal of virtue that you desire to
reproduce within yourself—as you follow that practice of meditation,
the higher consciousness develops, and you change your contact with the
world. Let me take a case. You come across a man who is very untruthful.
Normally he may deceive you for a time until you get evidence that
appeals to the mind, until you can argue logically and prove that the
man is not truthful; a slow process, but one that needs to be used in
the present stage. What will be the process of recognising untruth where
the spiritual nature has begun to develop by the process of meditation?
You would meditate on truth; that is the first step. By that regular
daily meditation on truth you make your subtle body vibrate, so that the
nature of your subtle body becomes that which answers to truth; then
when a man who is untruthful comes along you do not have to reason; by
the direct process of intuition you recognise that man as false; he
jars you just as a false note jars on a musical instrument. There is
no process of reasoning, no need to go into evidence, no need to seek
for proofs; you feel him, see him to be false, by intuition instead of
reasoning. Now, I know a case of that kind in India, although I don’t
suppose you will quite copy my Indian friend, for he was a man who, from
his boyhood upwards, had meditated every day upon truth, and he had done
it for forty years. That is a long time from the western standpoint. The
effect of that was that he had so tuned himself to the note of truth—he
happened to be a judge—that no evidence could deceive him, however
plausible; he knew when a man was lying by the jar that he felt within
himself. I only mention that as a special case to show you the method by
which this meditation unfolds the inner powers, so that, instead of the
slow processes you are accustomed to, a direct intuition tells you the
character of the person with whom you come into touch. I might go through
the whole string of the virtues; the principle is the same everywhere.
In addition to meditation, you must practise. You must practise in
your daily life the keenest sympathy that you are able to develop; by
deliberate effort, force yourself into sympathy with everyone whom you
may happen to meet; make yourself feel as that person feels; and above
all, practise it with those who are lower in evolution than yourself, for
there sympathy becomes most useful, and the practise of feeling as the
less-evolved feel enables you to lift them up nearer to your own level.
You must not only practise sympathy, too, in your daily life; you must
practise the absence of the sense of separateness, the most difficult
thing in the world to do for all of us who belong to this Teutonic
sub-race. Our sense of individuality is so strong that in everything we
feel “my,” “mine,” “my property,” “my books,” “my house,” “my friends”—a
continual repetition of the “my.” You must get rid of that; you must get
rid of the feeling which instinctively claims something that you call
your own as against other people. Now, it is not an easy thing to do;
and the first stages are very disagreeable, jarring the fifth sub-race
type of mind. Try to get rid of your sense of individual ownership in the
things that are yours. How often you hear a generous-tempered man say:
“Oh, I would have given it to him at once if he had asked for it, but I
did not like his taking it!” Why not? Because you feel separate; because
of “I” and “he,” “mine,” “his.” The next Race is not going to have that
sense so strongly developed; and if you want to take part in the building
of it, the sooner you get rid of it the better for yourselves. Practise
not minding having your things taken away and used by anybody who wants
to use them. It sounds strange to you, but it is a commonplace in India.
My Indian friends, when I first knew them, used to be astonished when
I said to them: “May I use such-and-such a thing?” “Why, of course, if
you want it,” was the invariable answer; and at last I got to realise
that that was a very much higher position towards objects of property
than the self-assertive owning. Similarly, in India, when you have a
garden, anybody who likes comes in, sits under your trees, lights a
little fire, and cooks his dinner there if he likes. When one day, again,
in my very early days, before I understood this, I said to somebody:
“Oh, but do you like people coming into your garden like that without
asking permission?” “What else is a garden for?” was the reply. That is
the natural feeling there because of the communal life which has been
universal for thousands of years. You think of the use of the thing and
the man who wants to use it; that he wants it is the reason why he should
have the use of it. That is a very long way from our fifth sub-race way
of looking at property. Practise that, then, in order to get rid of this
utterly exaggerated sense of separation which we find in our social life
at the present time. This habit of self-sacrifice—sacrificing your own
whims, wishes, wants, every day of your life, for the sake of making life
easier for those around you—that will be one of the characteristics of
the Coming Race. And as you do it, you will gradually find that you won’t
mind; that the pleasure of making another person satisfied is far greater
than the pleasure of having a thing for yourself; that the words of the
Christ are literally true: “It is more blessed to give than to receive”;
not a duty but more blessed, more happy, so that the joy that comes out
of the sharing utterly swamps any feeling of self-sacrifice. That, again,
will be the great social type of the Coming Race.
See how practically, then, this thought of the Coming Race bears upon
our living of to-day. Those who would prepare themselves for the part of
that changed type of man must begin building it up in their character,
their emotions, their minds to-day, by meditation, the opening of the
consciousness by practise, the training of the life into expressions
along higher lines. That race will be the builder of a universal
religion, in which sharing what each has of truth will be the only form
of missionary effort. That Race will be the builder of a brotherly
civilisation, in which the need of every man will be the measure of what
he has given to him; in which the power of every man will be the limit
of his responsibility. Those will be the great changes that will come,
and you, if you will, may take part in that changing; you, even in the
present civilisation, may hold to the higher ideal, and try to make it
acceptable to the minds of your fellow-men. But our hope is mostly in the
young, in those who have not yet been hardened in the brutal competition
which marks the commercial and class life of to-day. The young lads and
the young girls, still plastic, still easily fired by great ideals, with
nervous systems finer in many cases than ours, and hearts warmer than
those that have been chilled in the experience of life—in them lies the
hope of the future. For they shall make ideals, they shall create them in
the world of thought, and out of the world of thought those ideals shall
be sent into the world of matter, and make the Coming Race, which shall
build a civilisation happy, glorious, beautiful, and free, but in which
it shall be realised that the greatest freedom expresses itself in the
greatest service.
Lecture VI
The Coming Christ
Friends: Looking back over the long story of the past we can see certain
mighty, grandiose figures emerging from the great crowd of human beings,
men who tower far above their generation, who are giants, as it were,
with pigmies around them; however far we look back such figures are ever
to be seen, until at last the mists appear to roll across this great
vista of the past, and even through those mists we can discover the
outlines of great Ones who teach and bless mankind. To the great mass of
students these figures, standing out in the past, appear very closely to
resemble each other. We cannot, as it were, distinguish Them with regard
to Their knowledge or Their power; all are so far above the men of the
time, so far above the most advanced humanity of our own day, that it
seems impossible to throw Them into any kind of order, or to understand
how far They are part of one great group of mighty Beings; what relation
They bear to each other we cannot see; what Their rank in the hierarchy
of the superhuman we are practically unable to say. But as the occult
student tries to study the past, there are certain indications that he
can grasp which serve as a kind of guide as to these mighty Beings. He
sees great world-cycles of different extent, embracing longer or shorter
periods of time, and he is able to trace some relation between these
mighty Beings and the cycles of the world, the point of time at which
They appear, at which They manifest. And by this study of the past,
assisted by occult methods, these periods in the world’s story and these
Teachers of the world’s humanity fall into quite definite relations.
We can notice, looking back, that there are four great ages through
which the world passes in its long evolutionary history, ages that are
often referred to in what are called the mythologies of the past, ages
which are characterised very differently the one from the other, and in
which the whole cycle of the world’s story is divided. It may be noticed
that at the beginning of each of those huge cycles a very great figure
appears, as though, when the world was entering on a new phase of life,
it were necessary that a special benediction should descend upon it, a
special light should shine out. When we ask who are the great Ones who
mark these longest periods in human history, we are told that They are
Beings belonging to past worlds, belonging to other planets than our
own, planets and worlds older in the scale of manifestation; that They
have passed through all the struggles of an evolving life, that They
have formed part of a humanity that long since has passed away and been
numbered in the records of the universe, too far off to touch a world
like ours; that, reaching through human to superhuman growth, They have
finally joined their consciousness with the consciousness of the Logos
Himself, expanding to His consciousness, uniting with His nature, and
yet never losing that centre which is the result of Their long evolution
up the human and the superhuman ladder. Holding that centre in all the
life of God, it is possible for Them to draw around Themselves again a
circumference which shall enable Them to become manifest in any world,
in any race. Where a centre is, a circumference can ever be drawn; and
around such a centre in Deity itself, of the Son made one with the
Father, from such a centre a new circumference of a human life may be
drawn, and such a Being, mighty in His Deity and yet veiled in humanity,
may appear to enlighten and to bless the world. Among the Hindū people,
whose teachers have carried them far along occult lines, whose sacred
scriptures are full of occult indications, a special name is given to
these pre-eminent manifestations. They call them by a Sanskrit word
which means those who descend. The name avatāra may be familiar to you,
perhaps. But it is the significance of the name on which for a moment I
pause. They have climbed up to unity with the God head: They descend to
humanity in order to preserve and help. Such are the mightiest figures
that appear in any world, on any globe, through the long course of its
evolution. Egypt signified that mystery under a special name: they called
it the birth of Horus. Christianity has symbolised it under another
name—Divine Incarnation; and the Christian will tell you—accurate in
the spiritual fact, although at times confused in the definition of the
life—that the Second Person of the Trinity descends upon earth, and
he regards the Christ of Judea as being such a manifestation of the
Most High. The main fact that such a revelation may come to man is a
fundamental spiritual truth. It ought never to be lost from sight; and in
every great religion it has ever been said that it is from that aspect
of the Logos that these manifestations descend upon earth. Christianity
recognises but a single manifestation; Hindūism recognises nine that
have passed and one that is to come. In Zoroastrianism you find the same
conception. Religions, living and dead, have ever groped after that
highest of truths; only it must never be lost sight of that He who is an
Avatāra, the highest of divine manifestations, has been in some other
cycle of life a man among men, and that it is because of that long-past
experience that a return to those conditions is possible at any time.
Leave that aside for a moment, and take another great type that shines
out. There is no name for the next type I am just thinking of except
in Eastern lands, where they call him “The Enlightened,” the Buddha.
In the West that name is constantly connected with the last of those
manifestations, with the great Being born into the world nearly six
hundred years before the Christian era. He is called the Buddha. But
among the people of the faith that He gave to the world the belief is
that there were many before Him, that there shall be many after Him; that
He is only one among the great host of revealers of the divine, and that
one of those is born in every world, in every Root Race. So that in every
world there are seven of such Beings, one manifesting in every Race; but
when He has appeared, then He passes away from earth, having finished
even the superhuman evolution, and passes on, as those that I mentioned
passed in other worlds, in other times, in order to unite Himself as
the Son with the Eternal Father, so that in a world later than our own
such a one may return as an Avatāra, one who descends. But note that the
Buddha, mighty as He was, climbed to His greatness through the humanity
of our own globe. Climbing step by step up the long ladder of human life,
of superhuman unfolding, He touched the last rung of that ladder when
He was born as Gautama into India some twenty-five centuries ago, and
then, having finished His work, passed onward into what is there called
Nirvāna, the highest condition available for the superhuman, that of
union with the divine, though without loss of the centre of which I spoke.
Considering that great Teacher, let us ask what He was before He became
the Buddha, and then passed away from earth, His teaching work being
over. Before He took that last and greatest of the Initiations along the
line He followed, He had manifested several times before on earth, and
manifested in the same great Root Race, the Aryan Race, to which we all
and so many others belong. For before that last step was taken there was
another high office that He filled for thousands and tens of thousands
of years. I do not want in any way to confuse you with unfamiliar names,
and yet it is a little difficult to avoid them, because I want a name
that stretches back to manifestation after manifestation; and our own
fifth sub-race, the Teutonic, has been on earth so brief a time, living
in the western world, that it has not yet created the general name which
we can use with regard to these past manifestations. The eastern name
is a word which translated means “the Wisdom-Truth,” the Bodhisattva;
the name matters little provided that you take it for the moment that
it signifies an office, and the office is that of the Supreme Teacher,
not only teacher of men, but teacher, as they would say, of Gods, as
you would say, of Angels and Archangels. For you must remember that the
Shining Ones of the East are the same as those to whom over here you
give the names of Angels and Archangels. The East calls them by a name
which merely means “the shining”; and though it is often translated over
here as “God,” much confusion of thought thereby is made as regards the
great eastern faiths. For they, like Christianity, proclaim the unity of
God, the one all-pervading life; and those whom they call the Shining
Ones, the Devas, are but manifestations of that light, the Angels and
Archangels of Christianity or of Islām. And He who is the Supreme Teacher
has for His pupils Archangels and Angels as well as men; He is the one
who is the Teacher of all, whether in the body of flesh or outside of it
as spiritual intelligences; there is no other Teacher in earth or heaven
above that mightiest One who fills this supreme office.
Now, such a Teacher, the Supreme Teacher of the worlds, makes Himself
manifest as man at the beginning of every sub-race. I have talked to you
so much of Races and sub-races that the terms will not be unfamiliar;
and if I remind you that we are all of one great Root Race, the Aryan,
whether you take the first sub-race in India; or the second along
the basin of the Mediterranean in the ancient days; or the third in
ancient Persia; or the fourth giving birth to the ancient Greeks and the
Romans, and then spreading westwards through Spain, France, Britain,
up to the North of Scotland, and then across to Ireland, the mighty
Keltic sub-race; or the fifth, the Teutonic, now peopling Germany,
Britain, America, and their offshoots—if you think of those, the one
Race including all the divisions, you will be able readily enough to
follow the manifestations of the Supreme Teacher. Just as in the larger
cycles there are manifestations of great Beings, so has every successive
sub-race the appearance of this great Teacher as man, to give it the
religion under which the civilisation shall develop, to give it the
benediction which starts it on its evolution in the world.
Looking backwards to the sub-races that preceded the fifth, the Teutonic,
to which the greater part of you who are present here belong, we can mark
in each the appearance of the Supreme Teacher, taking a different name,
but ever the same immortal Individuality under the veil of that name.
One name that is known to all of you who are students of the past was
the name He took when He led forth from Central Asia the second of the
great emigrations that passed westward, which āryanised large numbers of
the people dwelling in Arabia, in Northern Africa, in the whole great
basin of the Mediterranean. He then bore the name of Hermes, a name
familiar to every student of antiquity, especially to the students of
Egyptian thought, for it was largely in relation to that that this mighty
manifestation was made, and in much of the so-called Hermetic literature
the name of Hermes, the Thrice Greatest, is preserved. It was a name
first worn in Lemuria, but in this case was used by the Supreme Teacher
manifesting for the second sub-race.
Let me pause a moment to say one word of explanation, to meet a
difficulty that may readily rise in the minds of the more scholarly
amongst you who have looked back to these past tales. You find the same
name appearing from time to time along the same tradition. That has ever
been so in the past. The name of the great teacher himself has been
taken up by his successors, who renewed his teaching and carried on the
tradition that he left; and so in the vast spaces of time that have
elapsed since that Hermes first appeared in the second root-race of the
Aryans, others took up the tradition, carried on the teaching, and the
name was ever repeated. It is the eastern way. No disciple dreams of
teaching there under his own name; it is under the name of his Master
that he gives his wisdom to the world; and that not to conceal, but
because it is held that to the teacher the credit belongs of that which
the pupil may be able to expound, and so, in humility, in veneration, in
gratitude to the mightiest, those who follow Him write under the name
that they worship, and so hand on His wisdom, although in generations
much later than Himself. It causes much of confusion, much of difficulty
when the people with the western historical sense go turning over these
ancient writings and applying their own canons of interpretation to
people who were ancient long before those canons were invented. What is
called the historical sense is a very different thing in the East from
that in the West. Historical sense here means a sequence of names, dates,
persons, and that is what is regarded as important; in the East it means
the God unfolding in the various types of humanity that may appear; and
that which they are interested in is not a special individual who has
written this, that, or the other, but the teaching, the tradition, handed
on from age to age, and ever marked out from the first Revealer, the name
of Him who gave the knowledge to mankind. I do not want to dispute which
is the better way. I only mark the difference that you may realise that
in the likeness of the name there is no attempt to deceive the reader,
but only to mark the line of the tradition.
In the second sub-race, then, appeared Hermes. Ages rolled on. The third
sub-race was to be born; the emigration to found that sub-race rolled
westwards into Persia. Once more the “Wisdom-Truth” led the emigration.
To that people he was known as Zarathustra, more often called among us
Zoroaster. Fourteen of those are known in the old story of Persia, but
the first, the eldest of them all, He alone was that one Supreme Teacher,
coming down to His disciples, building the policy of Persia, handing down
to those who came after Him the tradition that went by His name; and
every great high-priest of that religion worthy to bear the mantle of the
great One, he also is known in history as Zoroaster; and, as I have just
said, some fourteen of those are named.
The time came for the fourth sub-race, the Keltic; the same great Being
came forth again under another name, the name known to every student
of Greek thought as that of Orpheus. The Orphic Mysteries, the Orphic
tradition—these are phrases familiar to every student of the mighty past
of Greece. But the scholars, as a rule, with regard to him will say,
as was said in regard to Hermes: This is not an individual; it is only
a name for a succession of individuals. There is a truth in that, for
there was such a succession. The blunder lies in not realising that such
a succession must have an originator, and that the first and mightiest
of the teachers, to whom everything ran back, is not necessarily a myth
merely because He is so great. Those who started the Sun Myth have done
a great deal of harm in clouding the story of the past, and it is only
as the buried remains of that past are brought up and studied by the
scholars of the time that people find that many of the so-called Sun
Myths were mighty Teachers and mighty Kings in the childhood of our race.
That has become more and more palpable as the excavations go into deeper
and deeper strata, uncover more and more ancient civilisations; so that
those who have been made into myths are now taking on again a semblance
of humanity, but humanity so great, so divine, that it seems scarcely
possible to believe that such Beings lived in the guise of men on earth.
But you can trace down that Orphic tradition through all that was
mightiest and most beautiful in Greece; you can trace in by the Mysteries
I mentioned, by the names of the great Greeks who declared that they took
their inspiration from that tradition. So we come to the last of the
incarnations of that great Being until He appeared as Gautama, became the
Buddha, passed away as teacher from the worlds.
Now I have mentioned those mighty ones of the past because without that
it might seem only a dream when I speak of such possibilities in modern
times as well. I have traced the four latest appearances of Him who is
the “Wisdom-Truth,” the last of the four manifestations before, appearing
to take His last Initiation as the Buddha, He passed away and became the
Son united with the Father, no longer Teacher, no longer Guide of our
humanity. But there is never a break in the great succession; in that
mighty succession of religious Teachers the chair of the Teacher never
remains unfilled; there is ever a wise one to fill it, the wisest who is
living upon earth; and when one lays down the sceptre of the Teacher,
which is the symbol of His rule, another is waiting by the steps of the
Chair of Wisdom to take that seat of Supreme Teacher as His predecessor
passes away from earth. For never is the world left without its Teacher;
never is mankind left orphaned, without the mighty One to guard and save;
as one passes away, His function over, another steps in to fill the seat
and carry on the teaching of mankind.
When Gautama was initiated as the Buddha, another then became what I
have called the “Wisdom-Truth,” the Bodhisattva. His first manifestation
upon earth was at the beginning of the next sub-race. That you will very
readily see, and for that reason I have been tracing down those names,
sub-race after sub-race, that you might realise the relation between the
new departure of mankind and the manifestation of the Supreme Teacher. So
when the fifth sub-race was being born, when there was the slow growth
of the Teuton in the forests of Germany, when the germs, the seeds of
that new sub-race were being sown over Northern Europe, then was made
manifest again the Supreme Teacher, and He came to the world once more
to found a new religion, once more to bless a dawning civilisation. The
religion that He founded, the civilisation that He blessed, gave to him
the Greek name, the Christ. Let us pause for a moment on that western
name—name, again, of an office. For it was not the name of the Buddha
that He wore; it was not the name of an individual. As we look at the
dominant Greek thought of the time we find that that thought embodied its
highest triumph in a certain institution known as the Mysteries. There
were Mysteries in ancient Egypt, in ancient Persia, in ancient India, in
all the countries of that elder past; and among the Greeks also there
were Mysteries—the Orphic Mysteries, to which I alluded, and many others
known to the students of Grecian history under many names of Grecian Gods
and Goddesses, as we call them, of the Teachers of the past. In those
Mysteries there was a certain grade marked with the name Christos; these
Mysteries the reflexion on our earth and in our poor worldly mirror of
the great Initiations that belong to the Occult Hierarchy that guides the
religious destinies of men, a shadow of those supreme Initiations thrown
down upon the mirror of earth for the helping of ordinary humanity. This
kind of reflexion is indicated, for instance, in the Christian Testament
when it is said that Moses, the great leader of the Jews, made all things
according to the pattern shown to him in the mount—a well-known ancient
phrase, the Mount of Initiation—an indication to the people who followed
him as lawgiver that the temple which he outlined, which for a time
was seen in the tabernacle that accompanied the Jews in the wilderness,
and then received its more gorgeous presentment in the Temple of King
Solomon, was formed after the pattern of the heavenly things. So the
heavenly and the earthly are thus related as object and image, and the
object, which is the great Initiations of the Hierarchy, was imaged here
in the civilisations of the past in the Mysteries, by which, by many
ordeals and in many difficult ways of training and of discipline, the
best men and women of the older civilisations were guided upwards from
the human to the superhuman path. In those Mysteries there was this
grade, the Christos, the anointed one. It was the grade of the Initiate
who had triumphed over suffering, the grade of the Initiate who had
carried the cross, the grade of the Initiate who was to know no more
compulsory death or compulsory birth, that which marked him as having
crossed the threshold of the superhuman, and being ready to enter on that
higher grade of manifested life. Natural, inevitable, that in a time
when Greek thought was marking the highest point of human attainment and
dominating Europe, the Greek name should be taken to describe the mighty
One revealed as Teacher upon earth. What nobler name could be chosen,
what title more significant, what symbol more instructive, than to call
the teacher who appeared and was slain by the name of the Christ?
In the early days of Christianity, as most of you probably know, a
difference, which is being revived in our own day, was drawn between
Jesus the Hebrew and Christ the anointed Teacher. Look back to all
those schools of philosophic and learned teachers in the early days of
Christianity, who, when ignorance triumphed after the fall of Rome and
Constantinople, were branded with the name of heretics—those who were
called the Gnostics, the knowers. A significant name. If you turn over
the pages of Origen, one of the greatest teachers, remember, in the early
Church, you will find many passages in his exposition of Christianity in
which he says that it is necessary for the Christian Church to have in it
many Gnostics, who should serve as the foundation on which it should be
built, as the pillars on which it should be reared. He used the word in
the sense of knowers, not alluding to the many schools classed together
under that name. In a famous passage Origen points out that, while it is
true that Christianity is for the unlearned, while he says it is medicine
for the sinner, it is not out of the sinners and the unlearned that the
great Christian Church could be builded; and he goes on to say that,
while that is true, and there is medicine for the sinner, the Church
must be buttressed by the Gnostic, not by the sinner, by those who know,
not by those who are ignorant. That was well provided for in those early
centuries of Christendom, for they also had their Mysteries, just as
had the older religions around them. Turn over the pages of those early
Christian bishops and doctors of the Church, the pages of S. Clement of
Alexandria—canonised as saint for his learning and his holiness—turn over
almost any of the pages you will of those earlier Christian teachers,
who learned from the lips of those who had received their teaching again
from the lips of the followers of the Christ Himself, and you will
find continual references to the Mysteries of Jesus. You will find the
rules laid down by which alone admission to those Mysteries could be
won; you will read in the pages of S. Clement the proclamation of the
hierophant to whom the candidates presented themselves, he who had in
his hands the key of that kingdom of heaven, and you will find that as
they stood before him he told them that only those who for a long time
had been conscious of no transgression might come and learn the teaching
which Jesus gave secretly to His disciples. Those were the old words of
challenge ere the door of that kingdom of heaven was flung open, and only
to such men and women was admission to the Mysteries possible. There
they learned the inner secret teachings, those that are indicated in the
Gospel story; for you remember how it was written of the Christ: “For
without a parable spake He not unto them”; you remember how, when the
disciples asked for explanation, His answer was: “To you it is given to
know the mysteries of the Kingdom of God, but to others in parables.” You
may remember, again, how it was said that when His disciples were with
Him in the house, then He told them things which to the multitude without
He refused to reveal; and you may remember the further promise that He
left, when He knew that His own earthly life was drawing to a close:
“I have many things to say to you, but ye cannot bear them now.” The
Christian tradition of the Mysteries declared that those many things were
told afterwards, when the disciples were more ready to receive, when the
pupils were fitter to be taught. Origen tells us that all those teachings
were kept in the Christian Mysteries, and made the secret teachings of
the Church, given only to those who were worthy.
In those days when many knew, when many understood, a distinction was
drawn between Jesus and Christ. I alluded to it, you remember, in the
first of this course of lectures; and I did so deliberately, intending
to return to it when, having dealt with the many intermediate questions,
I should arrive at the lecture on the Coming Christ. For there was a
difference between the human body of the mighty disciple Jesus, born in
Bethlehem, and the divine Power that came down upon that body at the
point of time marked as the Baptism, when it is written, the Spirit of
God came down upon Him and abode with Him; there you have marked the
Coming of the Christ, the consecration of the Supreme Teacher. That
distinction you find recognised in the Epistles, though no attention is
drawn to it further in the Gospels after that startling and suggestive
statement; but if you take the Pauline epistles you find yourself in
quite a different atmosphere from that of the history as told in the
Gospels; you find there the name of Christ in a new meaning, a mystical
meaning of profoundest import; you find S. Paul declaring that he does
not ask to know Him after the flesh, it is the inner Christ he seeks;
you find him saying of that mystic Christ that He has to be born in the
believer—a statement that could never have been made of the physical body
of Jesus. You find him declaring that that mystic birth of the Christ in
human souls is to be followed by a growth of the mystic Christ within
the believer, until at last he has reached the measure of the stature
of the fulness of the Christ. That is the mystic Christian life, the
Christ born in the soul, unfolding His divine powers as the Christian
grows in wisdom and in love, showing Himself more and more manifest
as the human life unfolds to the divine, until the perfect Christ is
manifest and the Son of God is seen again on earth. But that old mystical
idea slipped out of the Church teachings, and only remained in the
Testament, marked but not understood. And so He who was the inspiring
Spirit, the Supreme Teacher, the all-pervading life of His Church, became
the outside Saviour, who by a physical sacrifice was said to have made
atonement between God and man; and you had a vicarious atonement, a
legal substitution, instead of that identity of nature which made the
Christ and the believer one. That is the change which came over Christian
teaching in those long ages of darkness that followed the vanishing of
the Mysteries that had kept the flame of knowledge alive, until there
were no longer pupils willing to be taught, and by the absence of the
pupils the teachings of the Masters were withdrawn.
So we realise that with the revival in our own days of the mystic
teaching and the realisation that there is a life in Christianity which
is rightly marked out by that holiest of names, we begin to see in that
spreading new life in Christian churches, in the revival of that idea
of the possibility of the divine growth in humanity, we see one of the
signs of the coming of the Christ, preparatory to His next manifestation
upon earth. For it would scarcely have been worth while merely to amuse
you for an hour with the story of the past if it did not bear on the
present and the future, on the repetition of the old-world tale, of the
remanifestation of that mighty Son of God. For that reason, to make, as
it were, the gulf less wide between the ordinary thought and the thought
of the Occultist, I spoke about the earlier manifestations, marking each
successive sub-race of man; and if you have followed along the line of
what I have been putting to you Sunday after Sunday of the stage at which
the world is standing now, of the transition age in which we are, of the
closing age that is passing, of the opening age that is coming, of all
the signs which show the ending of the one, of all the signs which show
the beginning of the other, then without shock or jar should come to you
the present idea that we may well be looking again for a manifestation of
the Teacher, the Supreme Teacher of the worlds, who was last manifest as
the Christ in Palestine. Let us see what that would mean.
Unless all that I have been telling you during the past five weeks is a
mere dream; unless the very facts that I have pointed you to are utterly
without significance, you ought almost to have thought yourselves into
the point to which I fain would lead you now—that we are on the threshold
of a new manifestation, and that the mighty Teacher again will appear as
man among men. Now, to say that to any people may only make them think:
“But why for us?” So might the Jew have questioned when last He came on
earth. That a thing so great, so transcendent, and so rare, should come
to earth at any particular time, to be measured by only a few years of
mortal time—that that should be now seems too strange, too beautiful, to
be true. And yet He came before; why not again? If at the birth of the
fifth sub-race, why not at the birth of the sixth? Some must be on earth
when any such manifestation takes place; some generation of men and women
must be born around the coming of a Christ; and there is no valid reason
that any one of you can give why this age should not be such a time, and
the people of this age the recipients of the new flood of spiritual life.
Strange, because it happens seldom, but sure, because it happened at
similar crises in the story of the world; and the strangeness of it does
not mark it as untrue when you see the signs of the coming all around
you, if your eyes should be open to recognise what they mean. For an
expectation is spreading everywhere of the coming of some mighty Teacher,
and here and there on earth the expectation has taken voice, nay, has
even had a human messenger and herald to proclaim it. In Persia such a
messenger came in the one who was called the Bāb, who declared the coming
of a mighty one, followed by another said to be yet greater than himself,
and yet a third, the Abbas Effendi of the present time, certainly a great
spiritual teacher, but one who still declares that the mightiest is yet
to come, who is to bind together the eastern and the western worlds.
Not only along that line has this expectation shown itself, but among the
people of Islām in a strange combative form, natural to their fighting
races, showing itself, therefore, as leader in battle to be ruler in the
future; and through Africa you see it in this expectation of the Mahdi,
which has given so much trouble during our own time.
I only mention these to show you that the thought is spreading and
the expectation growing; for ever the world grows expectant before the
mighty One returns to reveal Himself on earth. Such a coming of the
Christ the occult world is looking for—for the same great Being who
appeared in Palestine, for He is still the Supreme Teacher, the same
individual. Who may say what name He will bear? But what is of import to
all of us is: Shall we recognise Him when He comes, or shall we be as
blind of vision, as hard of heart, as were the Jews among whom His last
manifestation occurred? It is so easy for us looking back through the
glamour of the centuries in which the great Christian Master has been
the head of Christendom, and seen as perfect man with the irradiation
also of the Christ upon Him—for the Church has made no distinction
between the two all these later years—it is so easy for us to look back
through all those centuries and say we should have known Him had we
been there. But that has happened so often. Was it not His reproach to
the people of His day: “Your fathers slew the prophets, and ye build
their sepulchres”? There are always plenty of people ready to rear the
sepulchre of honour to the name of the prophet of the past; how few in
any age of the world have recognised the prophet of their own day! That
is not only true of the Supreme Teacher, but of others a little beyond
the knowledge and the power of their own day; ever they have been met
with hatred, ever the world has cast them out, has tortured or has slain
them. Why should we in our own day, then, be any wiser? Why should the
fifth sub-race, the most combative of all the nations, the most critical,
the most sceptical, the most unwilling to recognise the higher, the
most self-assertive—why should we have eyes open to see a greatness that
has never been recognised in the past? That is the problem that may well
exercise our minds, in order that we may try to develop in ourselves the
power to recognise should He come in our own day. For one great rule
runs all through nature: that you can only recognise that to which you
can respond. It is true of the outer nature and our physical eyes. We
can only see each other because in the retina of the eye there is the
ether that answers to the external waves of light. Similarly in moral
characteristics, and, above all, in the spiritual nature, we can only
recognise in proportion as we reproduce. If in ourselves there is some
opening up of the spiritual nature, if in ourselves there are some of the
qualities which shine out so gloriously in Him, if in us there is some
touch of that nature which in Him has risen to divinity, ah! then it is
possible that we may throb responsive to Him when He comes, hidden, as He
ever has been, beneath the veil of flesh. But that that may be so we must
go outside the thought of our time to that of the time that is coming;
not the combativeness of the fifth, but the compassion of the sixth
sub-race must find its home in our hearts. And if one may judge from the
past, when He comes He may again be despised and rejected of men, for the
spiritual ideal is not an ideal to which the heart of our own age quickly
responds. You can see it in the characteristics of the Christ: “when He
was reviled He reviled not again; when He suffered He threatened not.”
But amongst you that would show great poverty of spirit. Not to revile
back when you are reviled, in the mind of the modern day, is to mark the
reviling as true. That is the spirit of the time. If you are slandered,
libelled, abused, go into court and drag the slanderer there; if not, you
are guilty. That is the common opinion of the time. One who has learned
the lesson of the Christ, who before His accusers answered nothing,
that man is condemned by the popular mind of the day. He would answer
if he could, because they would answer if they could; but the measure
of the Christ is not the measure of those who bear His name in the
combative civilisation of the time. And so when He comes again, reviled
and slandered as He must be if He be far beyond our knowledge and our
understanding, the common verdict will go against Him as it went against
Him before. We may not murder; that is too merciful in these modern days.
We prefer rather that the victim shall live to be tortured than to give
him the mercy of a swift, a ready death.
And so, looking over the world at the moment, there seems little
likelihood that when He comes He will be welcome. A few will recognise
Him as they ever have done, and maybe, as the characteristics of the
coming race are those of spirituality, there will be more to welcome
Him, for the spiritual life is spreading to-day, and those who are of
the Spirit will know the law of the Spirit; and I would fain leave you
with the thought to-night that that is a truth, that the Supreme Teacher
will again ere very long be incarnate upon earth, again made manifest
as Teacher, again walking and living amongst us as last He walked in
Palestine. Splendid as is the hope, mighty as is the inspiration, there
is nothing too glorious to be possible for the ever-unfolding Spirit in
man, and the hope of to-day is that that spirit is spreading, despite
the characteristics of our time; that men are becoming more liberal,
more tolerant, more ready to recognise that which is true and just. And
it may well be that we have reached such a time of evolution that the
popular mind of the day will be transcended by large numbers of the more
spiritually minded, and that when He comes again He will be able to stay
amongst us more than the three brief years that marked His last ministry.
That, then, is the word, the thought I leave with you: to develop in
yourselves the Spirit of the Christ, and then at His coming you shall
recognise His beauty. Learn compassion, learn tenderness, learn good
thoughts of others rather than evil, learn to be tender with the weak,
learn to be reverent to the great; and if you can develop those qualities
in you, then the coming Christ may be able to number you among His
disciples, and the welcome that the earth shall give Him shall not again
be a cross.
Lecture VII
The Larger Consciousness and its Value
Friends: During the whole of the lectures, of which the discourse of
to-night is the last, I have taken for granted the existence of a larger
consciousness in man than that which we know at the present time as our
physical or waking consciousness. Over and over again I have had occasion
to allude to it, once or twice I dwelt for a few moments upon it, but I
could not interrupt the course of what I had been putting to you by any
detailed description of the larger consciousness, or of the instruments
of that consciousness, the body or bodies of man. It seemed to me that
the work I had been trying to do would remain somewhat imperfect unless
I tried to place before you, ere quitting the subjects I had been
dealing with, something with regard to this larger consciousness in
man; a consciousness which exists in every one of us; which functions
intermittently in all of us; which is in course of unfolding in humanity
at the present time. And side by side with the unfolding of the
consciousness there goes a continual evolution of the bodies in which
that consciousness expresses itself, and it is that subject that I want
to deal with to-night, trying to put before you clearly and definitely
the theory which is studied by Theosophists with regard to this matter, a
theory which some of us have proved to be true by our own investigations,
and—which is a far more important thing—confirmed by the great Scriptures
of the world’s religions, the testimony which has been given to man by
seers, by prophets of the highest, the most inspired, order. Sometimes
we are inclined to lay more stress on contemporary evidence than on the
evidence that comes from the great Scriptures of the world. It seems
to me as though that were a little along the line of hiding the sun by
holding a plate quite close to the eyes. For it is quite clear, when
you come to think of it, that testimony which may be given nowadays by
half-developed students cannot in the nature of things be nearly as
valuable as that of the great prophets and seers of humanity, embodied,
however mystically and allegorically, in the great Bibles of humanity.
In fact, the testimony of the modern-day investigator should be checked
and governed by those mightier and wider revelations, and it is always
a point of satisfaction, a point of confirmation to the modern and
partially developed seer when he finds that his own investigations
throw light on some of the statements of these Scriptures, and that the
Bibles of the race become more illuminating in some of their obscurer
passages by the light that he may have been able to gain by his own
investigations. I am not, then, pretending for one moment that anything
I put to you now is comparable in value with what you might find out
for yourselves, if spiritually illuminated, in these great Bibles of
religions. But I do think that the investigations of to-day help us to
understand those great revelations, though much that is there said is
necessarily obscure to us because of the immense difference in knowledge
between the speaker and the student; therefore, though we may call our
knowledge to-day a farthing light, it may be of value in the deciphering
of these great manuscripts of the past, so that even a little knowledge
of our own may enable us to go more deeply into those great wells of
truth which have come down to us from antiquity, which have been given to
us by the Saviours of the world.
In order to make what I have to say clear to you, I shall have to ask
you to pardon me if I go in the beginning a little into definition and
detail. If you want to study your own body, comparatively simple as that
is, you must be willing to learn the difference between a bone and a
nerve, between an artery and a vein, and so on through the whole of the
more or less familiar terms which the physiologist uses in explaining
the anatomy and the physiology of the body. No person can have clear and
definite ideas if he is not willing to study the mere nomenclature of
that which he wishes to understand; and while it is quite possible to
avoid using words of other languages, it is not possible to avoid some
demand on the consecutive thought-power of the student if he desires to
be anything more than a mere superficial hearer, without any definite
understanding of the subjects which he supposes himself to be studying.
There is a very good and simple description of man’s constitution in
one of the Pauline epistles, where a triple division is given, and a
perfectly accurate division, although subdivisions again are possible
and practicable; but for my purposes now that division into three, and
then certain subdivisions of each, will be sufficient to give you a very
clear and definite idea of consciousness in man; and then by your own
experience you can decide how much of the larger consciousness comes into
your waking consciousness, or how much of you is still without vehicle of
expression, still without the power of manifesting in worlds related to
our own.
That division, as all of you will at once know, is Spirit, Soul, Body. It
is curious how indefinite the mass of Christian people are with regard to
the meaning of the first two terms, Spirit and Soul. I am not quarreling
with the fact that different definitions may sometimes be given; I am
quarrelling with the fact that most Christians have no definition at all;
that they use the words interchangeably; that they constantly talk of
man as a duality, always using the word body; sometimes using the word
Spirit, and sometimes soul, for all that which they exclude from the
body. Thus you hear people talking about spirits manifesting in various
ways; sometimes you hear about the human soul and its immortality, and so
on. But a clear, distinct definition of what is Spirit, what is soul—that
for the most part is wanting among even the students of theology. Let
us see if it be not possible to define them in a way which may at least
be clear. You may, of course, differ with the division for the reason
that you may think some other dividing line is better; I am concerned
chiefly, for the moment, with giving you a clear definition, and then
you may correct or amend it according to your own thought or your own
knowledge. The definition will, of course, govern me in all that I
say to-night. First of all, then: What is Spirit? Spirit is a germ of
Divinity unfolding itself gradually in human evolution, appropriating
certain kinds of matter which it gradually organises into an instrument
for self-expression—we may shorten that by saying a germ of Divinity
encased in matter. That germ of Divinity, as you might naturally expect,
shows out in itself the triple division of its Divine parent. Just as
you find God, manifesting in a universe, ever manifesting three supreme
attributes, sometimes personified into what is called a Trinity, so you
would naturally expect to find in the germ that which you find in the
parent—that the triple nature of Divinity should show itself out in the
triple nature of the Spirit which is man. And that is so. You find Spirit
showing itself forth in full Divinity, taking for a moment the Christian
names as most familiar, in the form of Power in the Father, in the form
of Wisdom in the Son, in the form of creative Activity in the Holy
Spirit. If you will take those names for the time as being most familiar
to your own thought, and therefore introducing nothing of difficulty to
you—if you will remember those accepted ideas for the time, and translate
them into terms of consciousness, limited, because these are not all
fully unfolded in man, you will be able readily to distinguish in man’s
spiritual nature, and even more distinctly for the moment in the lower
reflexion of that with which I will deal presently—you will be able to
distinguish the threefold division, and so to obtain, as it were, a
clear picture of your own spiritual nature. That which in Divinity we
call Power, the Will by which the worlds exist, shows itself out in our
own spiritual nature as Will. The Wisdom which upholds the worlds shows
itself out in the human Spirit also as the pure and compassionate Reason,
which is the Wisdom, the Christ, in man. The third, creative Activity,
shows itself in intellect, the highest, the noblest form of creative
Activity—the intellect, the pure intellect in man is the third reflexion
in man of the creative Activity of God. And if you link what may be less
familiar with the familiar, it will be very easy for you to keep the
thread of that which I desire to put before you. Think first of all,
then, that the Spirit, the germ of Divinity in man, has to show out in
the gradual unfolding of its hidden powers these three supreme attributes
with which you are familiar in the thought of Divinity itself.
Then, passing from that highest part of our nature to what S. Paul calls
the soul, what is the Soul in relation to the Spirit? It is the temporary
reflexion in grosser matter of the eternal Spirit; the image of that
which is the eternal object; the reflexion in the mirror of a world of
that eternal life which passes from world to world, unfolding, but is
never subject to the transitoriness which marks the ever-changing worlds.
The soul in man is the Spirit working in grosser matter; and hence in
our own natures, so familiar to us—for now we come into a region that
psychological science deals with and tries to define and understand—we
have, when we look at our own consciousness, the soul, the reflexion
of the Spirit in grosser matter. We have the mind reflecting the pure
intellect with all its activities—imagination, judgement, reason—all
these powers of the mind. Then we find a part of our nature that we call
the emotional; there we have the reflexion of that pure and compassionate
Wisdom that I spoke of which shows itself in the lower worlds by Love,
the highest and loftiest of the emotions, the root whence all virtues
spring. For the same principle of unity which expresses itself as
Wisdom in the spiritual world expresses itself as Love, which draws the
separated lives together in the world where matter has overcome Spirit,
where Spirit is blinded by matter. The unity that the Spirit knows the
soul seeks by Love, which is the attribute that draws toward unity,
and that which in the spiritual world is known, in the lower world is
sought by this exquisite attribute of the soul. And that which in the
higher world we call Will becomes Desire in the lower. For the difference
between Will and Desire is that Will is self-determined, whereas Desire
is determined by the attractiveness of objects outside the consciousness.
You are moved by Desire when some pleasure attracts you, some pain
repels you, when your activity goes along the road that is determined
by an outer attraction, an outer repulsion; you are moved by Will, the
spiritual attribute, when the whole of your inner nature, drawn up to
a single point, self-determined, sends that nature along the road that
within yourself you have chosen, whether it leads to pleasure or pain,
whether it leads to gain or loss in the lower world. Will is determined
from the spiritual Self; Desire is guided and stimulated by objects in
the lower world. Hence that which is Will in the Spirit is Desire in the
soul. And so you find the soul represented by these three well-known
attributes: Mind, with all its powers; Emotion, the root emotion being
love; Desire, the reflexion of the determining power in this lower world.
When you come down into everyday life you find the whole of these make
up your waking consciousness, showing itself out in the denser matter
of the brain; in your waking consciousness you know the working of the
mind; in your waking consciousness you know the working of the emotions;
in your waking consciousness you know the working of desire; so that
the waking consciousness, the limited, the conditioned, the smaller
consciousness, is that which is within the limitations of your brain or
physical body, but is none other than the larger consciousness which
shows itself in the subtler worlds as soul, in the spiritual world as
Spirit. If you realise clearly that outlining, with its subdivisions,
you will find that consciousness is a unit, and the differences are
differences of the material in which it is working rather than in itself.
The triple division is the only one, whether you look at it in the brain,
in the subtle body, in the matter of the world where the Spirit rules.
Everywhere consciousness is one, expressing itself in three modes, by
three qualities, but everywhere a unit, yourself, the reality within you.
What is Body? For there is a third factor in S. Paul’s definition of
man. Naturally the body also has in it the same triple differentiation
as the consciousness. And so we find a spiritual body, the clothing of
the Spirit in the highest worlds of consciousness. We find also what S.
Paul, again, calls a natural body. There is a natural body, he says, and
there is a spiritual body. But that natural body divides itself into
two—the subtle body in which the soul is working; the dense body in
which the waking consciousness is working, the reflexion of the highest.
Those two naturally go together, and might well be classed roughly as
the single natural body, for it is transitory, impermanent, belongs to
the three worlds of change—the physical world, the intermediate, and the
heavenly; has a certain life through which it passes in the three worlds,
and then gives back its elements to the worlds to which they respectively
belong. Whereas the spiritual body is a relatively permanent thing, lasts
through the whole of the long life of the individual, passes through
birth after birth, death after death, knows neither birth nor death in
its own nature, passes through them, but is not affected by them—the
spiritual individuality, the real man, is eternal in his own nature,
and has a permanent clothing of the matter of the spiritual world,
unfolding his powers, organising his matter, but remaining ever the same
in essence, the consciousness ever living in those worlds, the matter
the same, only becoming more and more definitely organised. In that
spiritual body remains the memory of all the experiences through which
you have passed; in that spiritual body resides your true individuality,
that knows neither birth nor death; in that spiritual body which is ever
yours all the experiences of the past are gathered up, and part of those
experiences is put forth, birth after birth, in order that the soul may
clothe itself in new bodies for new experiences and new developments. So
that the part of you that lasts is the Spirit in the spiritual body; the
part of you that changes, the soul in the temporary body, whether you
take the subtler or the denser parts.
Supposing you accept that definition of man in his triple division, it
will be easy enough then to follow out step by step what the higher
consciousness is as apart from the lower, the larger as apart from the
smaller. You will start with the great conception of a living Spirit
coming down into denser and denser matter, with the object of acquiring
that matter and subduing it to his own purposes, appropriating it,
wrapping himself up in it, and temporarily blinded by the veil, but a
veil that he is going to turn into an instrument, so that by it he may
know all the worlds, and come into contact with every portion of the
universe. For that he appropriates the matter of every world; for that
he wraps himself round in these material garments; and working upon
these, he turns them to his own purposes, shapes them by his own will,
moulds them in order that he may use them for that which he desires to
effect—contact with matter, the condition of his becoming master of the
worlds; and by making matter his servant and his instrument, all the
worlds become open before him, and he can function in any one of them.
That the pure spiritual being cannot do. He can only function in worlds
of the Spirit, those lofty eternal regions where Divinity itself resides
and manifests without the blinding effect of the denser matter that we
wear. But just as Divinity emanates these coarser forms of matter in
order that the spiritual germs may be sown therein, and therein gain the
experience by which their powers will be unfolded from within; just as
Deity is manifest in matter, so must the germs of Deity grow therein,
until matter is subject to them as it is to the Father of light, whence
they come.
So, in looking at this consciousness unfolding and these bodies becoming
organised, we can trace throughout the purpose of that long unfolding—to
make the Spirit master of matter, to enable him to act in every world;
and when we catch a glimpse of that great purpose, we realise how perfect
is the plan, how complete our triumph will be. First we notice, when we
are looking at the lower forms of consciousness in ourselves, that we
can understand a certain relation between matter and Spirit which we are
told exists all the way up to the highest spiritual world. And so far as
investigation has been carried by the students of to-day, they find that
relation in each successive world that they enter and finally subdue.
It is a relation, then, that runs right through between consciousness
and form, between Spirit and matter; it is this: that every change in
consciousness has a corresponding vibration in matter, and that every
vibration in matter has a corresponding change in consciousness. We are
told that that relation is imposed by the Logos Himself in His first
shaping of the matter side of His universe; that all the vibrations of
which He makes the atoms capable answer one by one to changes in His own
consciousness, and that throughout the whole of His universe, in all
the mighty realm of spirit-matter that He rules, this correspondence
is universally, unchangeably found—for every change in consciousness
a corresponding change in vibration, for every change in vibration a
corresponding change in consciousness.
Let us see how that would work if anyone whose eyes are a little opened
looks at the aura of a person—the lowest part of that aura, if you will,
in etheric or astral matter: let us say, astral. You will notice a large
number of colours continually flashing through it and changing; and if
you examine those colours, every one, as you know from your ordinary
study, representing a certain definite vibration in matter—every colour
is nothing more than a certain vibration in matter, a vibration with a
definite wave-length—if you watch those changing colours in the aura you
will find that they are either generated by a state of consciousness or
give rise to it. Suppose, for instance, you find a person in a mood of
devotion, engaged perhaps in prayer—you can see them by the score in any
Christian church. Watch the astral aura of that person, and you will find
that the whole of it is vibrating in a way that gives you the colour of
blue, blue everywhere predominating, the whole of the aura suffused with
that colour. But you will also find, if there is in that congregation
a quiet person who was not feeling devotional when he came into that
congregation, that gradually his astral body will be affected by the
vibrations in the astral bodies near him, and that those vibrations
imposed upon him from without will produce a devotional mood within him.
You can start it, then, at either end: either the mood producing the
appearance, the vibration, or the vibration producing the mood. Take it
in another form: have you never felt when you yourself were perfectly
good-tempered and some very irritable person came up to you, have you
never felt that you yourself were becoming irritable?—not that you had
anything to be irritable about, but merely because the other man was, and
it needs considerable control, control over the astral body, to prevent
the irritation of the person who comes near you from affecting your own
previously placid mood. If you have not observed this, keep watch over
yourself during the coming week, and you will find how continually you
reproduce the emotions of the people with whom you come into contact.
What is the mechanism of it? Very simple. That person’s astral body is
vibrating in consonance with the emotion he is feeling. Those vibrations
of his astral body set up vibrations in your astral body, a perfectly
mechanical thing. But because it is your astral body, the matter you have
appropriated, those vibrations in it produce in you the corresponding
mood of irritation. Hence the common ethical precept given by every
great teacher, to return good for evil. That is by a deliberate effort
of the consciousness to throw yourself into the mood which is opposite
to the evil mood of the person with whom you come into contact. If
you do that, then your own mood will overbear in your astral body the
vibrations imposed upon it from without, and your astral body will begin
to vibrate in correspondence with your own good emotion instead of with
the evil emotion imposed from outside. The further result of that, if
you be strong enough, will be to correct the bad vibration in the astral
body of the man who is near you, and so, by correcting that vibration
into harmony with your own, to produce in him your own good emotion,
instead of having your emotion controlled by his. That is the ordinary
science of the emotions that every aspirant for the higher life is set to
practise in his daily life. He is first told the theory, so that he may
understand what he is doing, and then he is set to the practise, so that
by the practise he may realise the truth of the law that his teacher has
explained. Sometimes the ethical teacher only says: “Love your enemies,
do good to them that hate you.” With the unspiritual hearer the question
will very readily arise, “Why should I give love when hatred is given
to me?” Only knowledge will enable you to understand the wisdom that
underlies this precept of all the great teachers of the past. Speaking in
an age when authority was valid, and when people were willing to accept
the precept from one whom they recognised as greater than themselves,
they only proclaimed the law, and the docile hearer tried to obey. In our
own more critical and combative age it is necessary to justify wisdom to
a more critical and carping generation, and so the full explanation is
given which shows you the scientific truth which underlies the ethical
precept.
That runs through the whole of the working of our bodies, the whole of
the changes in our consciousness. You can work it out step by step,
or you can read the working out which has been made by a thoughtful
student,[3] and so you will have a veritable science of the emotions, and
you will go out into the world a source of peace, a source of blessing, a
source of all good emotions, helping the weaker by your own knowledge and
your own strength, and so enabling them to climb more quickly by giving
this helping hand out of the knowledge that you have learned.
By that fact, then, we have power over matter, we can throw it into the
vibrations we desire. We can do more than that: we can shape it into
organs of expression for the consciousness that is unfolded within us.
Understanding these laws, we begin to realise that by these bodies we may
come into touch with the various worlds around us. Let us see, again, the
method. When first the spiritual germ descends into matter, gathering
round itself the matter that it needs, that matter is like a mere cloud.
It is still so in the highest regions for most; it is becoming organised
into definite instruments of consciousness in the three lower worlds
in all the more advanced members of our present race, to a very large
extent in all of you. If you pause for a moment on the physical body,
you will see exactly what is meant by the phrase: the organising of the
body. You have here now in your physical body a valuable instrument,
first for acquiring knowledge of the outer world, and then for acting on
that world, carrying out the knowledge you have gained. You have, as you
know, in your body two sets of nerves, called sensory and motor: by the
sensory you gather knowledge from without; by the motor you act upon the
outer world, utilising the knowledge you have gathered to bring about
the results that you desire; and your physical body is well organised
for its work. By the evolution of the senses, by the gradual growth of
the whole nervous system, by the development of your brains, you have
largely become master of this densest world, the physical world, to which
your body is related. All that is needed further is a comparatively small
evolution—the development of the other two senses, the conquest of the
realm of ether, that which science is now investigating. So far, then,
you have one instrument, the instrument of your waking consciousness.
Through that, spirit and soul alike are working, the powers of the soul
showing out as far as the density of the matter will permit. Coming into
denser matter is very much the same as if you brought a light through
thicker and thicker glass. The light would remain the light, but that
which would show out through the glass would be less and less according
to the opacity of that glass. So with the light of the spirit shining
through the soul and the body. Your next work is the organisation of the
next finer body of matter, that which I called the subtle. In that your
emotions are working, in that your thoughts are working, and to a very
large extent your mental and emotional bodies—we call the emotional the
astral—are organised at the present time. But here more variety comes in.
Some of you will have your astral body so well developed that it is fit
for separate working in the intermediate world. Some of you will have it
well developed so far as consciousness is concerned, but not so far as
the reception of impressions from the outer intermediate world. That is,
your consciousness will be working there in that finer matter that has
not yet sufficiently organised the astral body to receive impressions
from without.
Gradually, as evolution goes on the organisation of the astral body
will go on in everybody, but it is possible, as I suggested to you a
few Sundays ago, very largely to quicken that evolution, and gradually
to make the astral body what it ought to be, as perfect an instrument
for contact with the astral world as the physical body is for contact
with the physical world. That is, of course, what a very considerable
number of people have done, and they are able to act either in or out
of the physical body. We will take both cases in a moment. Take the
finer part first of the subtle body—the mental body. In most of you
that also is fairly organised, but, again, it is organised for working
within yourself, but not receiving from the outer mental world all that
hereafter it will be able to receive and utilise, and only a few of you,
comparatively, would be able to leave the denser and the astral body
behind, and live in the heavenly world, in full consciousness, working
there as thoroughly as you can work in the physical world.
What signs are there by which you can judge how far the organisation of
the astral and the mental bodies is going on, so that if you work to
quicken their organisation you will be able partly to judge how far your
work is effective? Let us take the working in the body, the physical
body, first. As these other higher forms of consciousness begin to become
co-ordinated with the physical, and to hand on to it the impressions
that they receive, the mental body is becoming highly organised; when
the person possessing it is strong in science, physical science, above
all in the grasping of principles, in the power of observation, in the
ability to draw conclusions from the observations that have been made,
organisation is improving. Among the scientific men of our own time
that mental body will be very highly developed, chiefly for use in the
waking consciousness, very imperfectly as yet for direct reception on
the higher planes. The higher development of the astral body will show
itself in forms of art and of high emotion, and just in proportion as
those are transmissible to the waking consciousness may you realise
that the astral body is becoming more definitely organised. When the
body of the intellect, the lasting body, part of the spiritual body, is
becoming organised, then it is that you find fine metaphysical ability,
great philosophical profundity of thought, the highest conceptions of
idealistic art, the highest achievements in idealistic literature. Those
are the faculties that belong to the beginning of the spiritual body
in man, transcending the transitory, beginning to shape the permanent
instrument of the Spirit. Where you have great talent, where the mental
body is highly organised, where you have the highest genius, there the
spiritual body is beginning its organisation. For that highest genius is
the flashing down from the organised spiritual body into the lower nature
of knowledge which in those regions alone can be gained; and when art and
literature become illuminated by the Spirit, then you have the mighty
geniuses of history that outlast the passing generations and shine out in
the world of thought.
What signs may we find other than those of the organisation of these
bodies through which the larger consciousness will work? Genius is the
highest of all, save that which I spoke of as the manifestation of
the Christ, the Wisdom Spirit in man. But if we leave those loftiest
manifestations of the larger consciousness alone, what signs may we find
amongst ourselves of the growing organisation of those higher bodies and
the unfolding of the larger consciousness? There are very many signs
to-day of the organising of the astral body, and it is in the lack of
discriminating these from genius that we find a great absence in power in
the new psychology. You find the organisation of the astral body showing
itself forth in the power to receive impressions directly from the astral
plane, and the power to translate them into the waking consciousness.
In the body those first signs are seen in telepathy where it is well
developed, where people are able to communicate with one another without
the ordinary physical means of communication, and that is not so very
infrequent a thing among the more thoughtful of our own time. That is a
power you can develop, if you like, by definite and regular practice;
only remember that all development of power means regular practice and
patient and reiterated experiment. One finds, for the most part, that
after a few weeks or months of practice people are apt to drop the whole
thing if they have not in that time gained startling results. That
is not the way that powers grow. The law is sure, that if you choose
to concentrate your mind so as to make a clear image, that will be
reproduced in astral matter. Then by an effort of the self-determined
will you can send that astral thought-form to whomsoever you choose; and
if you practise that day after day, week after week, nay, even month
after month and year after year, you will find that you will ultimately
develop the power of sending thought clearly and definitely, so that
you will be able to communicate with the absent as surely, as certainly
as any physical-plane communication can be sure and certain. Practice
along these lines can do you nothing but good. It increases the power
of the will, it increases the concentration of thought; but remember
that without concentrated thought and fairly strong will you are bound
to have a very long practice before you will have results tangible in
the outer world. The person who cannot keep his mind steady for a couple
of minutes at a time, the person who cannot concentrate definitely on
one thought, such a person certainly cannot transfer that which he is
unable to create; and for a very considerable time people will have to
practise by creating the thought-image before they will have anything
to be definitely sent to another. But that is one of the means of
organising the astral and the mental body as an instrument of the larger
consciousness. Some people, of course, have it by nature, as you say, but
what does that mean? Only that they have practised it in previous life.
No one gets anything for nothing from nature. On the other hand, nature
is a good paymaster, and pays the exact wages that we have earned, never
withholding anything. If you can do it easily, it is because you have
done it before; if you find it difficult, it is because you are beginning
that definite kind of work. But no one obtains it without labour, no one
can develop it without long and continued practice. But there is one form
in which the astral body shows its organisation when you are out of the
dense body and not in it, in the form of dream. Whenever you go to sleep
you leave your dense body behind. Some dreams belong only to the brain;
it is because people do not distinguish dream from dream that so much
foolish ridicule is sometimes cast on the dream-state altogether. It
is perfectly true that there are dreams which grow out of conditions of
the physical body, where a little change in the circulation, a momentary
block in some vessel of the brain, will cause a dream, incoherent,
senseless, without meaning or illumination. That is the physical dream;
it may be caused by any disturbance of the body—indigestion, a hundred
other things. The dream that shows that the astral body is becoming
organised is a dream in which some definite knowledge is conveyed, in
which some definite warning is given, in which something is added to you
that you had not before, or in which you come into contact with someone
who has passed out of the physical conditions through the gateway of
death, and whom you may meet in the astral world when you yourself have
temporarily dropped the dense body. Those dreams are coherent, rational,
sometimes illuminative. Remember how many dreams have now been put on
record in which a man has gained in the dream-state knowledge that he
had not in the waking state. How often that knowledge gained in the
dream-state has enabled him in the waking state to cover over some
gap that he was before unable to bridge. You will find in Myers’ book
on _Human Personality_ some of these dreams given, although not very
definitely explained, and if you find in your experience that those are
becoming more frequent, then you may be sure that your astral body is
becoming a vehicle of consciousness, an instrument by which consciousness
can work in the other world. It is true that in some dreams, especially
of warning, the thought may be thrown into your mind from without when
you have not found it out for yourself, but have been informed of it
by another. Such a warning may come through, given you by some friend,
some helper, someone whom you love, who may have passed onwards, and so
has the advantage of the astral vision. But in all those cases there
comes into the waking consciousness something from the larger, and as you
perfect the astral body all those come more and more within your control.
As it becomes organised there is less and less need to leave it in order
to exercise its powers. You will find yourself seeing, hearing, while the
physical senses are active, while the consciousness is working normally,
the waking consciousness in the brain; so that slowly and gradually
you will unify the physical and the astral bodies and live in the two
worlds continuously at one and the same time, finding those worlds
intermingling and interworking; and so you will gain that much of the
larger consciousness which belongs to the expression of the soul through
the subtle astral body.
Exactly on the same lines with the heavenly worlds, the mental world,
your evolution will go on, and for this there is one condition regarding
the consciousness, there is one condition regarding the instrument for
the unfolding of consciousness—regular and steady meditation. There is no
other way. If you find anybody telling you that by any physical means you
can really unfold your consciousness, tell them that they do not realise
what they are talking about. You can start a little astral consciousness
on the lowest parts of the astral world by causing vibrations in matter
in the physical that affect the astral, and so bring about a change in
consciousness in that lowest part of the astral world, but you can
go no further. I have seen in India men who, by the use of difficult
physical means that none of you would care to use—for they bring about
the gradual spoiling of the physical body—I have known them able to leave
the physical body and live for the time being in the astral, but in that
astral body they were unconscious, not conscious; they were not coming
into touch with the astral world, nor using the larger consciousness
at all. They had only forced themselves into that world in the astral
body where it was not organised enough for the reception of impressions,
nor the consciousness unfolded to understand them, and they had injured
the physical brain and rendered that practically useless for physical
utility; so that they had lost both worlds instead of gaining the higher
that they sought. When one has seen that happen in India one realises
that those methods are not methods that it is desirable to spread in
the West; and it is along that line that so many of those pseudo-occult
books are going which come to us from America, promising that if we
follow those practices we shall be able to get the better of other people
in business transactions, and hypnotise them for our own advantage and
our own gain. Wherever you find that the method of working and that the
object aimed at, be sure that you are dealing with a form of unfolding
and of evolution that can only injure; it cannot really serve. The worst
of it is that those forms tend to atrophy the parts of the brain that
you want to bring things through after a higher consciousness is active
and the higher body is organised. By this means you injure the brain,
and with the brain the connecting link between this world and the next,
so that you injure yourself along that line as well as along the other,
and make yourself incapable, until you have a new body, of that higher
unfolding at which you aim. There you have the danger of people picking
up fragments of an ancient science of the East, without realising all
the protection with which in the East that science is surrounded; and
if even there one finds occasionally such cases as I have mentioned, of
the ruined physical frame and the undeveloped astral body, then how much
more dangerous it is when given to people of different physical heredity,
without the conditions which in the East are ever imposed! Meditation,
then, is the one safe way of unfolding the consciousness, and thus
organising the vehicle; and the other condition is purity of thought,
purity of desire, purity of physical life. That is the matter side of the
training. Your thoughts must be pure, otherwise your mental body will be
unfit for higher development; your desires must be pure, or your astral
body will not be fit for that unfolding at which you aim; your physical
body must be pure, otherwise when the developed mental and astral pour
down their power on the physical, the physical will be unable to answer,
and you will have hysteria instead of the wider consciousness you seek.
Those, roughly, then, are the conditions: meditation for the
consciousness, purity for the evolution of the instrument. If you are
willing to accept those conditions, then the path of the higher evolution
opens before you, and according to your courage, your perseverance, and
your ability will be the rapidity with which you can tread that path.
The object before you should be the helping of others, the gaining of
these powers in order that you may be more useful, not in order that you
may be greater than your fellow-men. Of the purity of your motive there
is only one test: are you using the powers you have now for the helping
of your race? If you are not, then no profession that you will use the
higher powers for good will be effective in bringing you help in their
unfolding. I have met many a man, many a woman, who is anxious to be
an invisible helper—that is, a worker on the astral plane—but I do not
always find that those people are visible helpers as far as their present
powers go. And I do not understand why people should want to go about in
astral slums when they keep carefully away from the physical slums which
are already within their reach. So far as you can go by your own power
you have the right to go, but if you ask for help from those more highly
developed—from the great Teachers of the race—then you have to bring
in your hands the proof—and that proof is life, and not words—that as
you are using well the talent you have you deserve to be helped in the
gaining of others. There is the underlying meaning of those strange words
ascribed to the Christ, that he who has much, to him shall be given.
Those who have used well that which they have, those alone have claim to
be helped in gaining more; for by their life they have shown that they
do the best with what they possess, and that is the guarantee that with
more they will utilise that also for the race. And so in the old rules of
discipleship it was said that when the disciple came to the Teacher he
must bring with him in his hands the fuel for the fire; it was the fire
of sacrifice, and the fuel was everything that the pupil possessed in
mind, body, and estate; and he brought that in his hands as offering to
the Teacher, and then alone was he accepted by the one who knew. And so
in these days also that higher evolution, quickened by the power of the
great Ones, can only be opened up to those who bring in their hands the
fuel for the fire of sacrifice; you must be willing to give up everything
you have, and own nothing, material or immaterial; you must hold
everything you have and everything you are at the service of the great
One from whom you ask the gift of knowledge. When that is brought the
gift is never refused; when that door is thus knocked at it never remains
closed. True it is that the gateway is narrow; true it is, now as of old,
“Strait is the gate, narrow is the way, and few there be that find it.”
But the fewness does not depend on the grudging of the Teacher—it depends
on the want of self-surrender by the disciple. Bring all you have and all
you are, lay it at the feet of the Master of the Wisdom; He will open the
gateway, He will guide you along the path. But dream not that words are
heard in that high atmosphere where the Master lives and breathes: only
high thoughts can reach Him, only noble acts can speak the thoughts you
have conceived; for voice there is the life that is lived, and only the
life that speaks of sacrifice can claim the teaching at His hands.
Lecture VIII
The Place of Theosophy in the Coming Civilisation
_A Public Lecture delivered in the Queen’s Hall, London, at the British
Convention, July 2nd, 1909._
It has been my lot now for many years to visit England either every
year or every other year, in order to try to spread throughout the
country the truths of the ancient wisdom which in these days we call
by its Greek name of Theosophy. This year it has been my special
duty to place on record in the capital of the empire a certain line
of teaching with regard to the changing conditions of the times, to
draw the attention of the thoughtful to the signs all around us of a
changing civilisation—signs of an age that is passing—signs of a dawning
civilisation that may be seen on the far horizon of our day. And I had
thought that I should only reach as to this the few thousands that
may be gathered together Sunday after Sunday in a London hall, but by
the generous kindness of the _Christian Commonwealth_ these lectures
have been spread far and wide. To-night I am taking up something
of the thought that there has been more fully expressed, with the
special intention of showing you the part that Theosophy will play in
that coming civilisation, the nature of the work that it is doing in
preparation for the civilisation on the threshold. I have worked out in
those lectures in some detail what here I must only state, that just
as you can find in watching the evolution of a man that at different
ages of his life he is dominated by different parts, as we may say,
of his consciousness—as we find emotion dominating him in youth, mind
dominating him in his maturity, the wisdom of the Spirit in his age—so
we may see, in glancing abroad over the civilisations and the races
of men, that a similar succession may be observed, and that hence an
indication of the future may be obtained. For we can see in the race
that preceded our own, and still is living and active, the great Keltic
race, how high emotion is the dominant note, and how the expression of
that emotion finds itself best in poetry and in art. We can see that
in the Teutonic race intellect is the dominant note, and that mind in
all the spheres of its triumph shows itself out among the peoples who
grow from that stock, of which our own nation is a branch. That being
of the past and the present, it is not irrational to look now in the
unfolding humanity for the growth of the next principle, the next mark
in the opening consciousness, the development of the spiritual nature in
man, which succeeds the intellectual as inevitably as that succeeds the
emotional, and places the crown of wisdom and all-embracing love on the
brow of the humanity which has passed through youth, is passing through
its manhood, is going onwards to the full maturity of its evolution.
So in the coming civilisation we shall expect to find spirituality the
prevailing mark, dominating religion, dominating science, art, and
society, and we may rationally look, as spirituality grows, and shapes
and moulds the coming civilisation, that in the sphere of religion we
shall see ever-increasing unity; in the sphere of science we shall find
new methods of investigation, new powers to use in thought; that in the
sphere of mind we shall find nobler ideals, more inspiring power; and in
society we shall find spirituality showing itself, laying the foundation
of society in self-sacrifice, building it up by self-control, and marking
Brotherhood as its ultimate goal and achievement.
Such, very roughly, are the signs that we think will mark the coming
civilisation. What has Theosophy to do with that civilisation: what its
place, its part, its duty? That is the question that I am to try to
answer to-night. And fairly the questions might be asked in speaking of
Theosophy by those who know little of it save the name—and how little
of it is known we can often see in the allusions we find to it in our
daily Press—naturally the questions might arise: What is Theosophy?
Whence does it come? Briefly, those preliminary questions, then, should
be answered. Theosophy, in the first place, as its name implies, is the
declaration that man as a spiritual being can directly know God who is
Spirit. It is the proclamation of the ancient Gnosis as against the
agnosticism of the closing years of the nineteenth century. Secondly,
it is a body of doctrines which are common to all the great religions
of the world; doctrines which we find explained, more or less perfectly
and fully, in every great religion of the past as well as in every great
religion of the present; a collection of teachings, spiritual in their
nature, universal in their spread, endeavouring to guide man along the
way to perfection, training him in life, illuminating him in the hour of
death. It does not deal with any special rites, any special ceremonies,
any special part of the teaching of religion which is not universal,
which is not everywhere to be found. So far as those are concerned, the
specialties of every religion, it studies them, it explains them, it
shows the occult meanings which often lie behind the outer garment of
ceremony, behind the ordinary rites of worship, behind the symbols that
you find in every faith; but while it explains them, illuminates them,
enforces their real value, it does not strive to persuade people to
adopt one religion rather than another, but, instead of giving up their
own religion for another, it counsels them to find in that religion the
deep truths that all faiths have in common. Hence it endeavours, where
religion is concerned, to bring peace instead of war, to make religion a
healer rather than a divider, a peacemaker rather than a battle-cry among
men. And in searching out these essentials of every religion, and drawing
these out and setting them before the minds of men, it justifies its
claim to its name of the Ancient Wisdom, of that Divine Wisdom in which
all the great religions have their root.
Such, very roughly and briefly again, is Theosophy in its essence: a
Gnosis as regards the relation of man to God, a statement of fundamental
spiritual truths common to the great religions of the world. In a moment,
in dealing with its work in the religion of the future, I will mention
those doctrines one by one, so that you may see for yourselves how they
may be traced in all the scriptures, living and dead, and in all the
religions of the world. I put first the blunt statement of what Theosophy
is, in order, if possible, to clear away the clouds which ignorance and
prejudice have spread around it.
Taking it, then, that the coming civilisation is to be spiritual, that
this Theosophy is to have a definite place and work therein, let me
try to point out to you the nature of the work, the lines along which
Theosophy labours to prepare the way for, as well as to influence,
that coming civilisation for which we look; and when I say to prepare
the way for, it is because we believe that every great religion has a
civilisation attached to it, and according to the nature of the religion
the civilisation that it moulds will be; and because we also believe that
at the beginning of every civilisation a great Teacher appears in the
world to give the impulse to that civilisation and to shape the religion
that will mould it. Hence, with our looking for a coming civilisation, we
look also for the manifestation of a great, a divine Teacher.
But I said, people might ask not only what is Theosophy, but—Whence does
it come? It is the latest—I do not say the last—of the great impulses
which, one after another, in the long past of history, have founded the
great religions of the world. Those impulses ever come from a mighty
Brotherhood of Teachers made up of the past Founders of religion,
presided over by the Supreme Teacher who rules and guides and inspires
them all—a mighty Brotherhood of Teachers of the world, coming from time
to time to found a religion, to shape a civilisation. Such impulses were
often repeated in the past, to be again repeated in the century which now
is running its course amongst us, history in very truth repeating itself,
and bringing at the appointed time a new civilisation, preceded by a new
spiritual impulse.
That impulse on this occasion has differed from all that went before
it in that it founds no new religion, builds no new barrier, does not
mark out believers and unbelievers, does not try to proselytise, but
only to inspire. For, as I just said, Theosophy goes to all religions
as a peacemaker, and does not strive to draw away from any faith those
whom the law has brought to birth beneath its shelter. So its first work
in preparation for the coming civilisation is to try to bring about a
brotherhood of religions, not destroying any, not trying to make any
less potent than they were before, but endeavouring to transform them
from rivals to brothers, so that each religion may recognise its kinship
with other religions, and they may become one mighty family, instead
of warring and separate creeds. Now, to that high end it brings the
knowledge of facts which have largely been used against religion, but
ought really to be used in its service. Those of you who have reached
even middle age will remember how in the latter part of the nineteenth
century there grew up among the sciences of the time a science which
was named Comparative Mythology. You will remember how that science
grew; the oldest among you may remember its very beginnings. It sought
out of the past religions, as well as out of the present religions, to
prove that religion grew up out of ignorance, and only became refined
as it grew older and spread among more cultivated people. It used the
researches of the archæologist, the discoveries of the antiquarian,
as weapons against the religion which dominated Christendom, where
science was most powerful and most active. It took up doctrine after
doctrine of the Christian faith, and pointed to the existence of those
doctrines in other times, in other civilisations, among the religions
of the past, both living and dead. It brought information from the
open tombs of Egypt, and gathered together the fragments of Egyptian
knowledge as they were traced on the papyrus, on the leaf that was put
on the bosom of the mummy. It gathered them together, and out of those
scattered fragments it made what we know well as the Egyptian _Book of
the Dead_. It did the same with Chaldæa, the same with Nineveh, the same
with those replicas of Egyptian temples that were unburied in far-off
Mexico—temples thousands of years older than the Aztecs, who slew their
worshippers and destroyed their civilisation, the Aztecs, who themselves
were thousands of years old when Cortez and his Spaniards treated them
as they had treated their forerunners. It brought from those unburied
temples similar teachings and similar ideas. It gathered, again, similar
teachings from the books of China, with its immemorial traditions; from
the scriptures of India, from the fragments of the Zoroastrian tradition,
from the books of the Buddhist nations, from Greek and Roman. Piling up
all the evidence it had gathered, it made out of that the science of
Comparative Mythology. It was the deadliest weapon that was ever forged
against dogmatic Christianity, because founded on knowledge of facts
that none could deny. Then it was that it became the duty of Theosophy,
just then born into the world, to come forward to acknowledge the truth
of the facts, and to add many others to the store, but to point out
that instead of Comparative Mythology there should be built a science of
Comparative Religion, showing that that which had been universally taught
was truth, and not lies; was verity, and not delusion. It defended every
religion by the universality of religious beliefs; and it pointed out
that a truth did not cease to be a truth because it was ancient, did not
cease to be a truth because it ruled in ancient times as well as now; it
justified religion by the very arguments that were used to discredit it,
and traced it to a universal Ancient Wisdom, instead of to the ignorance
of the savage, refined in modern days. It brought to that contention
many an argument on which I have not time to dwell, but that you can
very easily read for yourselves, if it be unknown to you, in the many
publications that have been written along these lines. And now, in order
to utilise that for the coming time in the building of the Brotherhood of
Religions, we proclaim in every country, to every faith, among the people
of every religion, the common heritage, the spiritual verity, the primary
doctrines that are found in every faith. What are they? They are but few,
although far-reaching. They could be counted on the fingers of two hands,
and even than that, so few are they.
The first great doctrine that every religion teaches is the unity
of God; the second, that God in manifestation is ever triple. In
philosophy they speak of three qualities or attributes; in religion
they mostly personify, and speak of a Trinity or a triple form. But
whether philosophical, or personified in religion, you have ever Power
or Will, Wisdom, Activity, and you can find those in the Trinity of
every nation, whether you take in the Christian creed the Father, the
embodiment of Power, of Will, the Son, the Wisdom everlasting; the
Spirit, the creative Activity by which the worlds are made. Or you
might take it equally well in Hindūism, and there you would see the
order reversed: the Creator, who is the embodiment of Activity; the
Preserver, the embodiment of Wisdom; the Regenerator, the embodiment
of Power. And so might I take you to ancient and dead religions, and
to ancient and living religions, and show you ever the same. For those
primary truths of God are everywhere proclaimed, one in His nature,
triple in His manifestation. And then, after those first two truths,
you come to the third: the vast family of the Sons of God, the great
hierarchy of spiritual intelligences—archangels, angels, shining ones;
call them what you will—that mighty family of Sons of God, amongst which
humanity finds its own place in process of evolution. Then you come to
the fourth great teaching: that you have the unfolding of consciousness
going on continually, and shaping ever finer and finer bodies for its own
expression; that which science calls evolution, but which religion has
ever called reincarnation, the method of perfecting the germinal seed
of divinity into the divine man, when the human evolution is complete.
Then, fifthly, the worlds in which these changes go on: our earth, the
intermediate world, and the heavenly; and man, with bodies of matter
belonging to all the worlds, so that he may be in contact with each.
And then the sixth great teaching of universal law—law in the world of
mind as well as in the world of matter; law which builds character as
well as builds the outer world; law unchanging and inviolable, which,
because we can know, we can utilise to the building up of ourselves into
noblest ideals. And then, closing these doctrines that are common to
every religion, we find the idea of the Teachers who preside over human
evolution, who inspire religions, who guard the spiritual progress of
mankind. Those are the truths universal, those are the teachings which
every religion has had and has; and so we find in these religions,
by their unity of teaching, the reality of Brotherhood that we seek
everywhere to spread. For of what avail to change from one faith to
another if in the new religion you only find the same old truths,
though ceremonies and rites may differ? And we see in this Brotherhood
of Religions one value to mankind which one religion only could never
have given to us. Just as you see the light of the sun broken up into
many colours, and those colours giving all the beauty to earth which
you see in the nature around you; just as you know that those colours
that constitute white light can be recombined again into the white light
whence they sprung, so is it with religions. The great truths, the great
virtues are as one—the great white light of truth; they are broken up by
the prism of the intellect, and the many religions ray out, each with
its own colour; they are recombined by the prism of the Spirit, and once
again are blended into the unity of truth.
If you look at religions you will see how true that is. Every religion
has a note of its own, a colour of its own, that it gives for the helping
of the world. Go back to ancient Egypt, and you find the note of the
Egyptian religion is knowledge, so that Egyptian religion became the
mother of Egyptian science, and science spread from Egypt westwards
over Europe. Go to the Far East, and you will find in India that the
special note of Hindūism is the all-pervading nature of Deity, and the
all-compelling duty which is the law for every individual. Go to Persia
in her ancient days, and there the note of purity was struck—purity of
thought, of word, of act. Go to Greece, and you will find her note was
beauty—beauty in architecture, beauty in sculpture, beauty in painting,
beauty in the perfection of her philosophy, which made the Beautiful of
equal rank with the True and the Good. And in Rome you find the note of
law, law all-compelling; and in Christianity the note of self-sacrifice,
which has in it the promise of the future; and in Islām the proclamation
again of the divine unity. And so every religion with its own note, every
religion with its own colour; blended together they give the whiteness of
truth, blended together they give a mighty chord of perfection.
Now that you could not have had with one faith and one creed.
Human thought is too narrow, human brain cannot grasp at once this
many-noted chord of perfection; and so many religions, each with its
own characteristic, as though the Divine Name were to be spelt out by
the religions, and each gave a single letter, all the letters together
making the name of the Blessed One. When you look on religion in that
way you realise how mighty a thing it is, how its strength is in unity
expressed in diversity; how each religion should learn from others and
share with others that which is its own specialty. And surely that does
not lower religion, but makes it greater; surely it does not make it less
compelling, but more attractive. Is Christ less when He taught “Love your
enemies,” because we know that the Buddha said, six hundred years before
Him, “Hatred ceases not by hatred at any time; hatred ceases by love”? Or
is it not more beautiful to see in the Buddha and the Christ proclaimers
of the one eternal law, coming at different times to different nations,
but ever with a single truth, ever with one code to teach to men?
Now in trying to do this work—which, of course, is taken in detail when
one is dealing only with that side of thought—Theosophy is preparing for
that common spiritual religion, the one Divine Wisdom, of which all the
religions of the world shall see themselves as branches, while the trunk
and root of truth are one. That is the great work, then, in the coming
civilisation, which it is the duty of Theosophy to labour at; and hence,
in one of its early teachings, it was said it was to be the corner-stone
of the religion of humanity. For the religion of humanity will be the
Brotherhood of Religions that I have been describing, where no religion
can be spared, for each has something special, but where all religions
will be seen as one, because they give similar truths in different forms.
Let us pass from that, and ask what Theosophy is to do in the coming
civilisation, in the science of that time. Science in the coming days
will pass into subtler worlds, or subtler matter. It has practically
conquered the grosser, denser forms of matter; it is now going onward
to the subtler and the finer. And there lies its difficulty: that the
methods which did for the grosser, the apparatus that measured the
grosser, are not applicable for the subtler. And when I say “the gross,”
think how fine even its apparatus is, for quite lately I had sent to
me an article in a scientific journal which spoke of an apparatus that
could measure the forty-millionth of an inch, and yet that is coarse
compared with the subtleties of the matter that lies beyond that, which
science must conquer in the coming days. Now of what value can Theosophy
be there? It is bringing, by training, the possibility to man in our
modern days of quickening his own evolution, and running ahead of the
slow working of the laws of nature unguided by human intelligence. It
is bringing, and proclaiming everywhere, a system by which man can more
rapidly unfold the powers of his consciousness, and also may more rapidly
develop the organs of finer matter that are related to those worlds of
finer matter which science will soon enter and begin to conquer. It is
telling people how to develop the finer senses, and showing them the line
along which the very few have gone in the past, but along which myriads
shall tread in the future, the next great stage of human evolution, the
organising of the finer body in man. It is bringing that to the help of
science in order that by the evolution of the finer body the finer world
may become the object of observation, exactly on the same lines, exactly
by the same laws, that your grosser physical bodies to-day enable you
to investigate the grosser physical world around you. There are eyes
that are keener than these organs evolved from the pigment spots of
the medusa; there are ears finer and subtler than those of our body,
exquisite as they are in their mechanism and in their delicacy; there are
organs of sense transcending the physical. Within the physical brain is
an organ evolving which shall be the connecting link between those finer
senses of the finer body and the grosser senses of the body of flesh that
we wear; an organ that many of our scientists think is an organ that is
passing away, because it is larger in the earlier stages of evolution
than in the highly developed man; it is the pituitary body. It is not
a question of size, but of inner complexity of organisation; and that
organ is not simply what science calls it, a vestigial organ—that is,
one belonging to the evolution of the past—it is truly a rudimentary
organ, one belonging to the evolution of the future. And the fact of that
has been proved by bringing life-currents, electric currents, to bear
on that particular organ, so that the results of the finer senses are
communicated to the brain, and we bridge what some people think the gulf
between the world of physical matter and the world that is called that of
astral matter.
Those experiments are now so familiar to some of us that it is impossible
for us to agree with the notion that that organ in the brain has no
future, as we find it can be stimulated and organised more finely, and
used in this definite fashion; we know that what a few are doing now
many shall do to-morrow, and those who have done it are only a step in
front; others are treading on their heels, and may outstrip them soon in
evolution. But here comes the difficulty, especially for the nations of
western Europe, who, from climatic and other reasons, have taken so very
largely to a diet of flesh, in which also alcohol plays a large part.
Now flesh and alcohol are not suitable materials for building up the body
of our ordinary life, which is to be made sensitive enough to receive the
vibrations from the finer matter of which I have been speaking. Doctors
have just discovered what was published by Madame Blavatsky many years
ago—that alcohol has a direct effect on the pituitary body, and poisons
that body, tending to cause inflammation. Have you ever wondered why
it is that alcoholic excess leads to what is called delirium tremens,
in which people see things that do not exist to the ordinary people
around them? It is because they have poisoned that very organ by which
vibrations come from other worlds; and although what they see is largely
abnormal and irrational, it is none the less the result of action on
these irregular and poisoned bodies, which vibrate under the stress of
poison instead of under the stress of thought, as they should do. And
that which doctors now have discovered and are publishing as a warning
to people, that has ever been known in occult science, and one of the
conditions of giving the details of the methods whereby that body may be
rendered active, has been abstinence from alcohol, and for the simplest
reason. So long as you are not using any of these methods, it does not
so very much matter whether that body be poisoned or not. You may live
long with a poisoned pituitary body; but the very moment that you begin
to work upon it, to make it active, to throw into it new currents of
life and energy, then the poison and the energy together bring about
inflammation of the most intractable kind, causing severe pain, as well
as brain mischief. And it is for that reason that the methods have
not been publicly given, and are only given to those who are pure from
the taint of alcohol. Along those lines, then, you will very likely
come up against rules that many of you will not care to adopt. We do
not say adopt them; we only say they are the conditions of the finer
organisation. Natural laws do not change for people’s wishes and whims.
If you want electric sparks from a machine you must make the conditions;
you must have dry air, not air full of moisture. It is no good saying
that dry air is not so comfortable to breathe as moist air. You are not
obliged to have electric sparks, but if you want them you must conform to
the conditions laid down by nature, and not follow your own whims. And
that is true everywhere. Presently people will find that it is true when
they want to investigate some of the spiritualistic phenomena; they have
not discovered that yet. They think they can lay down the laws, and then
get the results which can only be gained by obedience. The other day I
was reading a rather curious report of investigation into spiritualistic
photographs; and when I saw they had not obtained any, I could not help
wondering how many physical photographs they would be able to get if they
made it a rule that they should not put a dark cloth over the camera,
and that, above all, they should not take the photographs away into the
dark room, because that gives all possibilities of cheating and of fraud.
Presently you will find out that finer nature has her laws quite as much
as grosser nature, and that you can no more get results without obedience
to those laws than you could get your photograph if your plates were
exposed to the light. When that is learned, progress may be more rapid.
Along that line, where these rules are laid down for the organisation
of the finer bodies, there is another matter that comes in: it is of no
use to develop the finer bodies, unless the consciousness of the higher
worlds is unfolded, and the only way to do that is by the old way of
strenuous and regular meditation. Theosophy brings to the Western world
the yoga of the East, by which the man who practises so trains and
refines his brain that he makes it sensitive without making it diseased.
There is where the difficulty is found in the West. Sometimes, when a
great rush comes down from the higher worlds into the body of some great
saint or some great genius, there is brain trouble and brain disturbance;
hysteria is found. Naturally, because you are overstraining your
instrument. And if you want to be able to receive those great downflows
from the higher world, then you must begin to tune your instrument to
vibrate to the swifter vibrations that come down. You can do it, and
there is no danger unless you go to excess. If day by day you would give
even ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour, to strenuous thought and
careful concentration, you would gradually make your brain constitution
more complex and finer than it is. Thought is really the creator of the
brain. As you think, your brain grows; just as if you exercise your
muscles, your muscles grow and develop. It is all law, and thought is
the force which renders the brain more complex in its organisation. The
Indian yogi practises that, and by practise year after year, builds up
the brain of the coming race out of the brain of the race that is.
He makes it finer, subtler, more responsive, and he does it without
the sacrifice of physical health; and that is a thing that any one of
you may begin, if only you will be moderate and not excessive. Never
concentrate to the point of making a feeling of dulness and heaviness
of the brain; never concentrate to the point of pain; dulness and pain
are the danger-signals of nature, that you are trying to change matter
more rapidly in its arrangement than is possibly consistent with health.
Therefore you need moderation; but, given moderation, nothing but good
can come out of the practise of meditation and concentration; and by
that you will not only make your brain more sensitive, but also keep it
sane and healthy, and you will have none of those miserable hysterical
symptoms which have so blurred the value of the knowledge that has come
through the seer or the saint. Along those lines, then, Theosophy works
with science to show the road of development of science in the coming
civilisation.
What has Theosophy to do with regard to art in that civilisation?
Glance at the results of your civilisation to-day on the beauty of the
land. Go to Sheffield, which is built in what was one of the loveliest
valleys of the Midlands; notice, as you come near it, the beauty of the
countryside, the wooding of the undulating land, the exquisite beauty
of rivulet, of forest, and of grass; and then, out of all that beauty
of Nature, you plunge suddenly into the hideousness of Sheffield. You
find the atmosphere thick with black smoke. No tree will grow in many of
the districts, no flowers even on the sills of the houses of the poor.
The atmosphere poisons vegetation; what do you think it does to the
men, women, and children who breathe it? And Sheffield is not alone.
Go to Glasgow; see the hideousness of that, the second metropolis of
Scotland. Go to Birmingham, to Manchester, to any of these great cities
that so largely make the wealth of England. But sometimes it seems to me
that what you pay in beauty is too heavy a price even for your wealth,
and that England was happier as well as healthier when she had fewer
millionaires, but also fewer stunted and deformed specimens of humanity
in her slums. Look at the faces of the men, women, and children of one or
two of those cities I have mentioned. Look at the faces of the Glasgow
crowd as it tramps back from its labour to the slum. Those faces are not
civilised; they are brutal, many of them—animal, more than human. Oh, you
who think that beauty is only a luxury, look at the humanity you breed,
where ugliness is the mark of the cities, instead of the beauty that
has been destroyed. You must learn to understand what beauty means. It
moulds the body, and ugliness does the same. Out of your hideous cities a
hideous humanity grows up. The restoration of art is a matter of life and
death, not a matter of luxury and of enjoyment. Artists are wanted in our
towns much more than on the walls of our galleries. Only a few go into
the gallery, but men, women, and children live in the town. Until the
town is beautiful, as in Greece it was beautiful, the coming civilisation
will lack one mark of the civilised man. And Theosophy teaches reverence
for beauty, whether it be natural beauty or beauty formed by the skilful
fingers and keen brains of men—reverence for the human body. No nation
has a right to breed the bodies that we see in the population of the
slums. It is all very well that in the richer, the upper classes you
find men and women healthy, strong, magnificent to look at; but if they
can be what they are, all ought to be able to share in the conditions
that create that beauty. And art will not do its duty until it holds
up for all to see the power that resides in beauty, and its moulding
influence on civilisation; art should be ever painting and holding up
to us the ideal in its beauty, for it is the ideal that makes the real.
The artist should show the ideal, and the craftsman should reproduce it;
and until your craftsmen honour their labour, there will be very little
hope for art to thrive amongst us. Art is no art when it only paints
the commonplace and the ugly. Sometimes, on the walls of a gallery, you
come across a picture made up perhaps of a piece of cheese, and a boiled
lobster, and a string of onions, and one or two corpses of birds thrown
in for the sake of their plumage. That is not art. Art is beauty, and to
paint things like that is to degrade art, no matter how well they may be
reproduced. “Oh,” I have heard a person say, “how beautiful that cheese
is. I could cut it!” You can cut cheese anywhere; and you don’t want to
go to a gallery, and an art gallery, so-called, in order to see it. Put
this beside the pictures of the ancient masters, and see what art means
and what the travesty of art. Theosophy has to try to breathe into the
artist the idea of the splendour of his calling, the divinity of his
power. He can see what we cannot see, and hear what we cannot hear; let
him give us what we cannot reach for ourselves, and be again the priest
of the Beautiful for men. Then shall the civilisation grow into beauty,
human as well as inanimate, and the right place of beauty shall come into
our civilisation, the place it held in ancient Greece.
And what shall Theosophy do in the coming civilisation for
society?—society as we see it to-day, which is a battle, not a social
order; which is an anarchy, not an organism. I know it is often thought
that changes will only be brought about by the menace of the starving,
by the dread of revolution. Oh, it is not thus that Theosophy looks on
man, in whom it sees the growth of a spiritual, a divine nature. You will
think me a dreamer, perhaps; and yet I tell you a truth when I say that
not by the uprising of the miserable, but by the self-sacrifice of the
comfortable will the future society be realised on earth. I know that
that is not the idea of to-day. I know that, amongst those who suffer,
such a sentiment would be met with ridicule and scoff; but it is not
those who suffer misery who can build a wise and happy social system.
It wants the best brains and the best hearts; it wants leisure to think
out and to plan, and love to carry into effect. You can make a riot,
you can make a revolution by starving desperate people, but there is no
stability in that which follows revolution. You cannot take, but you can
give; and the spirit lives by giving, and knows the joy of sacrifice.
Do you imagine that sacrifice is painful, that sacrifice means sadness
and gloom? I tell you there is no joy on earth like the sacrifice of
the lower nature to the higher, and the giving to others of the higher,
that asks nothing for itself. Along those lines our Social Redemption
will come, along the lines of those who are willing to give and willing
to sacrifice, for the gift that is compelled by law or force is always
resented, and is resisted as much as possible. Outer compulsion is met
by violent resistance, but the inner compulsion that is the compulsion
of love, that meets with no violence in resistance; it pours itself
out in joy. And there lies the future, there the basis of the coming
civilisation.
I said, in the beginning, it would be built on self-sacrifice, and that
was the thought that lay behind the words. I see, spreading through
the comfortable, through the rich, those who are well dowered with the
goods of earth, a spirit of noble discontent, not for themselves but
for others, not for themselves but for the poor. I come across the
rich and highly-placed who ask, “What can we do to relieve the misery
we see?”—who suffer by sympathy, not by compulsion; and it is from
them the redemption of society will come. It seems, perhaps, to-day a
far-off dream, but man grows faster than we are apt to realise. There
is nothing too noble, nothing too beautiful, nothing too divine for man
to achieve; for man is growing godlike, however slowly, and the seed of
Deity within him is beginning to flower in some hearts. Wherever one who
does not suffer is unhappy for those who do; wherever a human brain that
might amuse itself finds joy in labour for the helping of the nation;
wherever a human heart which has all that love can give it cannot be
happy, but goes out in love to the outcast—there lies the promise of the
future. Such brains and hearts were counted by units, perhaps, even a
century ago, by tens a little later; they are beginning to be counted by
hundreds now, and to be found in places where none may dream that there
are those who are longing to give and strive for a better social state.
In those who are growing into the spiritual life; in those who cannot
be happy while others are miserable; in those whose meals are rendered
bitter by the starvation of the poor; in those whose luxury is a burden
because of the want of the miserable—in those will you find the builders
of the new civilisation, those who shall sacrifice that others may be
happy. That is the future to which we look, that the future for which
we labour, proclaiming everywhere the ancient words that “joy lives in
giving, and not in taking”; repeating again the old message, “It is more
blessed to give than to receive”; saying once again the old truth, that
only where self-sacrifice is found, there is also found a religion and a
civilisation that can endure.
Part II
Lectures to Theosophical Students
Lecture I
The Sixth Sub-Race
I have chosen for the subject of my lecture to-night one which I think is
important—the Sixth Sub-Race. Both outside and inside the Theosophical
Society a certain amount of good-humoured ridicule has been cast on
the way in which Theosophists talk about Races, Sub-Races, Root-Races,
Cycles, Rounds, and so on, some people condemning such talk as
exceedingly unpractical. Really that is not so. When our great teacher H.
P. Blavatsky traced for us _The Secret Doctrine_, that wonderful panorama
of the past evolution of the Races on our globe, she was not only giving
us the story of the past, but also presenting us with the key to the
future. And I propose to-night to try to show you how it is possible for
the Theosophist who has carefully studied the principles underlying past
evolution, to apply these to the evolution of the future, and so learn
how he may best co-operate with the divine plan which is slowly working
itself out. The advantage of Theosophical teaching is that it gives us a
definite scheme into which the evolution of mankind, stage by stage, fits
without difficulty and without blunder.
Now, if we think for a moment of what we call the larger and the smaller
cycles, we can realise that the large scheme of the Races, the smaller
scheme of the sub-races, and the evolution of man himself, all go along
parallel lines. Understanding one, we can understand all. I will pause
on the evolution of the Races, in order to remind you of the repetition,
within the limit of each race, of the smaller sub-races. We need not go
very far back. It will be enough to consider the Race that preceded our
own, the great fourth Root Race, and our own. The fourth Root Race was
the Atlantean. I only allude to it in order to remind you that from the
midst of that race the Fifth Race, in its turn, arose. Now the choosing
out of a new Race is the task of a particular Personage in the Occult
Hierarchy, whose only name, so far as we know it, is that which has been
borrowed from the Hindū, the Manu, the Man, or the Thinker, the ideal or
typical man. The Manu forms in His own mind, after the master conception
of the Planetary Logos, the plan of the man that is to be, which He will
gradually realise along the lines of natural evolution. These laws of
evolution are used by the Manu with scientific knowledge, and therefore
with certainty. In the same way that a scientific breeder, dealing with
the animal kingdom, can breed towards a desired type, so, on a higher
plane, does the Manu of the Race mould by the same laws of evolution
the physical form of the Race He desires to evolve. And always the type
is formed in the matter of the higher planes before it is reproduced in
the matter of the lower, the mental and emotional characteristics being
first conceived, and then a physical body which will best express them.
The Manu chooses the type according to the particular qualities which
are to be evolved, which are marked out for Him by the basic plan of
the constitution of man himself. Looking at your own nature, you have
certain distinct departments: the physical body; the astral body; the
mental body; the body of the higher mind, the causal; and then that
of the pure, compassionate Reason, the buddhic. Now if we take those
three types, the emotional, mental, and buddhic, we have the three with
which we are immediately concerned. Desire, or emotion, was the great
characteristic of the fourth Race. The mind was the slave of the lower
feelings; that race had as its motive power the development of the desire
nature. But in the sub-races of the fourth Race the other principles had
also to be evolved, but to a very poor degree; and as time went on, the
fifth sub-race of that began to develop the lower mind. Out of that fifth
sub-race the selection of the Manu of the time was made, and He chose out
certain families that He thought He could shape into the required type.
The first choice was not successful, the people proving too stiff-necked
and too little plastic to be moulded into the Race that was to be;
but it left behind it, in the history of the world, that marvellously
interesting people, the Hebrew, and that idea of being a “chosen people”
survives even to this day. The second and successful selection had as its
issue our own fifth Root Race. Now, side by side with the evolution of
the sub-race, came the evolution of the Root Race which was to succeed,
and that is why I have referred to the past. As the fifth sub-race of the
fourth Root Race was developed, the beginnings of the fifth Root Race,
the great Aryan Race, appeared one million years ago.
We can leave our fourth Race with its sub-races, having only regarded it
for the purpose of throwing light on the present. The evolution of the
fifth Race went on, and sub-race after sub-race was born. The earliest
of all settled in Northern India, and gradually conquered that great
peninsula, the first sub-race of the stock of the Aryans. There came
out after that the second sub-race, which wandered westward, as all the
later sub-races did; then came the third, the Irānian; then the fourth,
the Keltic; and the fifth, the Teutonic. So far we have come in the
history of the sub-races of our own fifth Root Race. Now, notice that
these overlap each other as they develop. The first of these sub-races is
still a mighty power in Asia, showing signs that its day is by no means
done, and that the Indians, if they have behind them a civilisation of
hundreds of thousands of years, have also before them a mighty future,
the first signs of which are being seen in the India of to-day. Signs,
some encouraging, some disturbing for a time, are being seen on every
hand that new life is being poured into its veins, signs of the birth of
a new Indian nation. Of the second sub-race we have not any nation at
the present time. Along the Mediterranean Basin it has left many traces
of its civilisation, which are being unburied by our archæologists; but
so little mark, so to speak, did it leave on history that a large number
of its wonders were deemed to be legends and myths. The next sub-race,
the great Persian race, is almost outworn. The Persians of to-day have
little in common with the Irānian of the past. The chief traces of
them, in fact, are on the Indian continent, the Parsīs, a race which has
dwindled and is gradually passing away. But when we come to the fourth
sub-race, the Keltic, we see great possibilities in that still. It gave
birth to the older Greece, the country of Beauty and Philosophy. It gave
birth also to Rome, with her remarkable ruling powers. It spread over
Europe, founding one nation after another from itself, and spreading
into Ireland and Scotland, made there possibilities that have not yet
all flowered into effect. In Ireland you have a strange mingling of the
remains of the fourth Root Race with the fourth sub-race of the fifth; a
great deal of the Atlantean influence still exists, many of the tutelary
deities of Ireland, the gods of the mountains, being largely they who
mingled with Atlantean life and thought, and are still exercising their
potent influences over the younger though still ancient Keltic sub-race.
There, again, we have great possibilities of revival and of growth, for
the fourth sub-race and the sixth sub-race are necessarily interlinked.
Just as the emotional nature stretches upwards and causes sympathetic
action in the spiritual nature, so with the Races and sub-races that
represent these principles upon earth; the fourth and the sixth Races,
like the fourth and sixth sub-races, are closely intertwined. Ireland has
not been kept apart for nothing; the separation between the Kelt and the
Teuton is not without its meaning. We shall find among that Keltic people
possibilities of spiritual power, and we may look possibly for some
mighty influence to flow thence into the great Christian organisation of
Rome, who is now on the balance as to whether she is to sink down along
the line that the Papal Encyclical seems to trace for her and become
the enemy of the Spirit of the Age, or whether the Modernist party in
the Roman Church is to rise into power, purify and vivify that ancient
Communion, and make her again what she ought to be, the Church of Saints,
the type and symbol of the purest and loftiest form of Christian thought.
It may be that Ireland will co-operate also in the great purification
which I pray may come to the Roman Communion, and make its revival
possible. And that is closely connected with the sixth Root Race, and
therefore partly with the sixth sub-race.
Now, after the fourth sub-race came our own; and when we find that this
fifth sub-race, the Teutonic, is carrying on so rapidly the development
of the concrete and scientific mind, when we notice that it is beginning
its last conquest, the conquest of the air, then, if we have learned
the lesson of the past, we may learn to see the signs of the sub-race
which is to succeed it. But these sub-races overlap each other, and it
is at the moment of the zenith of the one that the next is born. Go
back to the zenith of the fourth sub-race, when the fifth was beginning
to develop, when Rome was mighty, then it was that the Goths in German
forests were beginning to be born into Europe; and to draw together into
tribes, which were to grow into nations. Quietly and silently the new
sub-race was being born while its predecessor was reaching the highest
point of the civilised world of its time. Slowly it began to develop its
own peculiarities and powers, and from that day the Teutonic sub-race
has grown stronger and stronger, more and more dominant, and, though a
small minority compared with the population of the world, is dominating
that world by the force of its scientific mind, spreading everywhere, and
making itself the very crest of the advancing wave.
But let us turn away our eyes from the dazzling glow of the present to
look for the quiet places where the birth of the future is beginning to
appear. Just because the fifth sub-race is so strong and dominant, we
look over the world for the beginnings of its successor, which shall rule
the world not by the force of the concrete mind, but by the force of the
pure and compassionate Reason, which will conquer not by power but by
love, not by competition but by co-operation, and found, therefore, an
Empire that will long endure. For it is true now as ever that “They that
take the sword shall perish by the sword,” and the Empire that is to
live will be the Empire that wins its way by love and benediction, that
is a teacher and a defender, and not only a ruler. The sixth sub-race,
the Coming Race, will be born with the sixth Root Race in it, which is
to grow so much more slowly. The coming of the sixth sub-race you may
almost begin to see around you. It is not to be born in a single place,
not to belong to a single nation, for it is the type of humanity, of the
unifying Wisdom, and out of all nations and all peoples and all tongues
it will gather together its chosen for the new type of thought which is
to be born. And what that type will be we can easily outline by thinking
of the characteristics of the buddhic principle in man. What are those
characteristics? First of all, union, and hence in the outer world
co-operation. The very essence of all action in the sixth sub-race will
be the union of many to achieve a single object, and not the dominance
of one who compels others to his will. The work of the future will not
be, “Do so-and-so and follow me,” but, “Let us advance together to a
goal that we all realise as desirable of attainment.” If you are looking
for the sign of anyone who is beginning to show the marks of that sixth
sub-race to-day, you will find it in those who lead by love, sympathy,
and comprehension, and not by dominance of an imperious will; for the
qualities of that sub-race will be found scattered here and there through
the sub-race which it is gradually to supplant. You may trace out the
coming of the sixth sub-race in the scattered people found in our fifth
sub-race, in whom tenderness is the mark of power. Anyone who desires to
take part in the building of that race needs to develop now the power
to work with others rather than against them, and so, by a continual
common effort, to replace the spirit of antagonism and competition. It
is a synthesising spirit which we shall find in the forerunners of our
sixth sub-race—those who are able to unite diversity of opinion and of
character, who are able to gather round them the most unlike elements
and blend them into a common whole, who have that capacity for taking
into themselves diversities and sending out again unities, and utilising
the most different capacities, finding each its place, and welding all
together into a strong whole. That is one of the characteristics which
marks the type of being out of whom this sixth sub-race will gradually
develop. A strongly marked characteristic will be compassion. That
virtue is comparatively rare in the energetic, strongly individualised
West. Compassion is that quality which is at once affected by the
presence of weakness, answering to it with patience, with tenderness,
and with protection. You may notice how very often amongst ourselves,
taking the ordinary fifth sub-race type, the presence of weakness is
provocative. It does not call out compassion, but impatience—very
characteristic of the fifth sub-race. Quick to understand and grasp
a fact, it is impatient with the weakness and mental dulness which
cannot easily appreciate the differences which seem to it so clear.
The typical fifth sub-race civilisation is a civilisation that sees in
weakness a field to exploit, a thing to enslave, something to trample
under foot, in order to rise on it, and not to help to exist for itself.
“Inevitable,” you say, “in a bustling civilisation like this, that the
weak should go to the wall.” I do not deny that it has been inevitable
in the development of the strong individualism of the present. That
individualism is a priceless result, cheaply bought even by the suffering
it has caused. Without that strong individualism you would not have the
foundation on which the great co-operative civilisation could be built.
For you cannot synthesise weaknesses, and it was necessary to make the
strong and patient individuality in order that you might have something
to blend together into a harmony in the future that is yet to be born.
It is a very shortsighted view of human nature which sees in the growth
of a particular quality a thing which is wholly undesirable; for there
is nothing which is wholly undesirable in the evolution which is guided
by perfect Wisdom and perfect Love. The most unlovely product of the
fifth sub-race civilisation will be one of the bricks that will be built
into the foundation of the sixth sub-race and of the sixth Root Race.
For out of the strong individuality the strong virtues can be built,
and compassion is a virtue of the strong, and not of the weak. The
feeble, sentimental sympathy that comes with the poor and undeveloped
nature is not compassion. It has no power of healing in it, and no power
of protection. The person who, seeing a suffering or wrong, or even
a physical accident, goes into hysterics over it, is not the strong
helper who heals and protects. It is not the skilful nurse who goes into
hysterics over the agony of the patient in pain, leaving that patient
to suffer while she is having the cheap luxury of sentimental tears. It
is only out of the strong natures you can build up real compassion. The
compassion which does not help is useless, and help can only be given
where knowledge guides feeling, and understanding shapes the remedy.
Hence out of these strong individualities, when their object has been
changed and the greater Self has taken the place of the smaller self, out
of those the sixth sub-race, which has pure Reason for its dominating
principle, will gradually appear. When in yourselves you find the germs
of compassion, and know that that is to be part of the dominating
characteristic of the coming sub-race, then cherish these germs to the
utmost. But remember that they must grow out of the germinal feeling of
sympathy into the strong power to uplift and to save; for compassion
is the great mark of the Saviour. And the Saviour is never weak, but
strong, and out of his strength grows his compassion. You can test it
for yourself. Having to deal with someone who is very slow, you are
impatient. Why? Because you are weak. You are not strong enough to make a
question clear with slow and deliberate intent, not strong enough to bear
with the stupidity and feebleness.
The next great thing you want is the sense of unity, and that you can
never have unless you are strong. There is nothing harder in the world
than to pierce through a man’s weakness and his poor qualities, which
are on the surface, and to see within the growing power of the God.
Yet that is what you have to do if you would be truly wise. You see in
the people around you to-day a large number of faults. How far do you
see behind every fault the seed of divinity which will develop into a
virtue? Has the old Platonic idea ever struck you, that there is no
strong dividing line between the vice and virtue except the quantity
which is present? The undeveloped virtue is a vice; the virtue in excess
is also a vice. The golden mean between the two is the virtue. Take a
common illustration—cowardice on one side, recklessness on the other.
Courage is the mean between the two. And so in everything excess is
vice, whether a defect or a surplusage, and the perfect equilibrium
between them alone is virtue. If you would realise that for yourselves,
wherever you see a vice in your neighbour, you will look through the
vice to the virtue that shall be, and in the greatest faults of the
present you learn to see the promise of the future. You find a person
intolerant. He thinks you are a fool because you cannot see the same way
as he. This is apt to wake in you a similar intolerance. But if you saw
through the intolerance the growing though undeveloped love of virtue,
if you saw through the intolerance the passionate desire to find the
right and do it, the passionate hatred of all that does not seem right,
you would be very patient; for presently the flower of the virtue will
blossom out and show the beauty which all the time was within. You hear
abuse, or slander, or calumny. You think it is hateful. But the person
who is doing it in his ignorance is mistaken, and that is a reason for
compassion, and not for anger. The more cruel the ignorance may make a
person, the greater the demand for the compassion, which, because it
understands all, overcomes all; nay, does not even overcome, because to
overcome would mean separation; but realises the unity between oneself
and another, and takes the weakness of another as one’s own. Now these
things are well enough known in principle. Why not practise them? Why,
in difficulties like those we have been passing through, should there
be angry words on both sides? The Theosophist who understands has no
room for anger, but only room for compassion. These are the things that
in the sixth sub-race we shall want. All these must begin to grow now,
and germinate in the heart of every one of you who would take part in
the building of that coming sub-race. And hardest of all to develop, in
a race where separateness has been the type of greatness, is the sense
of unity. This sense of unity and of compassion will be a strength and
power which is only one for service, which makes the measure of strength
the measure of responsibility and of duty. And so your character will
be marked—if you are a candidate for the sixth sub-race—will be marked
by a great sense of duty, and a great indifference to what are called
“rights.” There is a splendid word of Mazzini that “every right grows
out of a duty discharged.” That is utterly true. It is the discharge of
duty out of which inevitably the right grows, and then the right comes
not by combat, but by the inevitable necessity of nature. Because where
everyone discharges his duty, everyone enjoys his rights without conflict
and without demand. The mark of our own sub-race is the demanding of our
rights. But to those who know the law of karma there is nothing that need
be claimed, because you possess all which is yours. The karma brings
to you everything to which you have a right; and if what is called an
injustice is done you, it is only the balancing up of an ancient wrong.
You think people can hurt you. Then you do not believe in the law of
karma. It is your own hand that strikes you, and no one else’s. No one
can injure you or wrong you, no one can commit any injustice against you.
The whole of that which you suffer comes out of your past. These people
are mere puppets who come forward to claim the debt that you have to
pay. If you really believed that, then the man who demands a debt from
you would be your friend whom you would welcome; for karma’s debts are
never demanded twice. There is no error in her account. But, as a matter
of fact, hardly any of you believe it in actual life. What you profess
does not make one scrap of difference. You do not believe unless you live
what you say you believe. And if you believed it, you would know that
no slander could wrong you, no injury hurt you, and that the words of
the Christ on His way to His Passion were absolutely true: “You could do
nothing at all against me except it were given you from above.” That is
the secret of the patience of the Christs; they know the law, they live
by it and accept it. And that utter belief in Law, and therefore the
recognition of duty, that is another of the great marks of the race that
is to be. Every one of you who works that out now in life, who, in face
of an apparent wrong, is calm and receptive, who takes an injustice as
a debt that is paid and cancelled, that man or woman is a candidate for
the coming sub-race, and for the Root Race that shall be gathered out
of its midst. For the sixth Root Race is to be taken out of the sixth
sub-race that is now being born, and according to the qualities you make
in yourselves will be the effectiveness of your candidature for both.
And now look at another side of that growing sub-race. I have laid
most stress on qualities, because qualities shape form; but it is also
true that the bodies of that sub-race will show a different type from
the bodies of the present—will be far more sensitive to all the finer
vibrations of matter, built up within the finer aggregations. And side
by side with the development of the finer and more nervous physical
body will be inevitably the greater organisation of the body that comes
next, the astral, with its corresponding senses. Now notice how in the
difference between the fourth and fifth Root Races it is the nervous
system which is the greatest physical difference. Compare the nervous
system of a Chinaman, or Japanese, with the nervous system of an Aryan,
and you will see the enormous gulf that separates the two Races. A
fourth Race man will recover easily from a tremendous laceration that
would have killed a fifth Race man by mere nervous shock, and it is in
your nervous system that there will be the great difference between
the fifth and sixth Root Races, and the change will show in the sixth
sub-race. You have to solve one of the hardest physical problems; to
have a sensitive, delicate, complicated nervous system hand in hand with
complete health. You can easily strain your system into sensitiveness,
but that is different to refining it into sensitiveness, making it
responsive to the most delicate vibrations from without, but with a
perfect sanity and health. On that you can also work. By the deliberate
use of meditation for the refining of the brain you can gradually build
up—if you do not carry it to excess—an extreme sensitiveness, and at
the same time perfect balance and sanity and health. You must not think
that with fifth Race bodies you can bring about at once sixth Race
characteristics; but within the limitations imposed upon you by your
fifth Race bodies you can gradually develop an increasing sensitiveness
which will react on the astral body, and organise and develop that at
the same time. And you will find, if you will notice the people round
you, that there are being born at the present time more and more children
who show this delicate sensitiveness, hand in hand with generosity, with
tenderness, with broadness of mind, with quick and keen intelligence.
These are children who will gradually develop into the type of the new
sub-race. When they become numerous, and become fathers and mothers
in their turn, then they will gradually prepare for the birth of the
children who will belong to the sixth Root Race. Within the one the other
will be born. Hence all of you who are parents will do rightly and wisely
to study carefully the characters and types of the children whom karma
places in your hands for training. If you see in them the dawning powers
of the coming sub-race, this greater sensitiveness, this tendency to see
where many are blind, do not force it by unwise admiration, do not check
it by equally unwise unbelief. Let the children of to-day grow up among
the healthiest possible conditions, but also amongst the most refined
that you can give them. Remember that in the training of the higher
emotions beauty is an essential factor, and that without the bringing
of beauty into home and daily life the birth and growth of the coming
sub-race will be hindered. You have to war against the ugliness of the
present-day civilisation. You have to strengthen the tendencies which
are beginning to show themselves, and which make for beauty. You must
realise that beauty is an essential part of utility; and that it is the
most narrow-minded utility which thinks that beauty can be left on one
side, and that the ugliness in daily life is not a retarding factor in
the growth of the more refined sub-race that will partially take birth
amongst us. These are very practical things. They deal with your daily
life, with the home of every one of you, and the duties that fall upon
you there. You must not let your Theosophy be outside your daily life.
If Theosophy is to be the moulding force of the race that is to be born,
it must show itself out in your lives, in your thought and action. It is
the great privilege of the Theosophical Society to be the nucleus of
that coming Root Race, and amongst our members there should be some at
least ready to take part in the building of the sixth sub-race. You would
not be amongst us if you had not had in you something to draw you along
the lines of this swifter evolution. You hardly appreciate the forces of
the past which have brought you into the Society. Some come in and drop
out again. They are those who are coming in touch with it for the first
time. Others come in and stay in for years, and then drop out. They are
in a stage a little further on, and have been in it before, and will
return to it in lives to come. There are some who, gripped by it from the
beginning, never move again in their utter fealty to its ideals, whom no
personalities can throw out of it, who belong to Theosophy rather than
have Theosophy belonging to them. These are they who have been in it many
a time before, and will come into it again, to live and die in it over
and over again, life after life. Well for you who are here to-day that
in the trials of the last few years you have not allowed personalities
to blind you to principles, nor real or imaginary faults in persons
to make you shrink in your loyalty to Theosophy itself. Persons die;
principles live. Men and women pass away with their virtues and faults,
but the Theosophical Society will endure generation after generation.
Well for you if in the storm you have been able to stand firm; great the
benediction that comes upon you that in the day of trial you have not
denied your Master, in the day of suffering you have not forsaken and
fled away.
Lecture II
The Immediate Future
You may remember that when we last met I spoke to you about the sixth
sub-race, and my speech this evening turns on the same set of ideas,
although from a different standpoint, rather more special to the Society
than to the world at large. In this lecture I am concerned rather with
the view of the nature of the Theosophical Society which was held in
its earliest days, dropped a little out of sight, and is now being very
generally recalled, so that the Society should rise to the height of its
opportunity and do the work that lies before it in the immediate future.
If you will turn back to the days of H. P. Blavatsky in India you will
find she was fond of dwelling on a particular relation held by two of
the Masters, primarily to the Society, and secondarily to the coming
civilisation of which the Society is the herald. She used to refer her
Hindū friends to the statements in their own Purānas, in which it was
said that two Kings would come at the end of the Age, and that to them
would be given the kingdom of the new and opening Age. These statements,
which are often repeated, raised in the hearers the inquiry, “Who are
the two Kings?” and then she gave them a hint that the two Kings of
the Purānas were the two Masters who were the real Founders of the
Theosophical Society. That set the keen brains of the students to work.
They promptly began to try and find out what were the names of the two
Kings. One of these students found it, wrote a paper, which was published
with H. P. Blavatsky’s approval, giving the names of the two Kings—Moru
and Devāpi—two names mentioned in many of the Purānas in relation to
the past history of the Hindūs, one of them, Moru, belonging to the
Solar Dynasty, descending directly from Rāma, one of the Avatāras—that
before Shrī Krshna—a great King, said to have retired from his throne
and to have gone to Shamballa, there to wait until he was recalled to
lead the human race; the other, whose name was given as Devāpi, was the
elder brother of the famous King of the Lunar Dynasty, to which the next
Avatāra belonged. He was the elder brother of the father of Bhīshma, and
he similarly gave up his right to the crown, retired to the same place,
and the same phrase is used with regard to him, that he was to wait
there the coming age. Now H. P. Blavatsky was very much delighted at the
ingenuity of her students, and said that the outline was correct, and it
was published. H. P. Blavatsky often referred to this function of the two
Masters who were responsible for the founding of the Society. As in these
latter days that idea of the Masters as the Founders of the Society has
been challenged, I may perhaps say I have myself seen that fact stated
in the writing of the Master “M.” I have read the letter in which He
says that He and His fellow Adept “K. H.” had taken on themselves the
responsibility of a new spiritual movement in the world; that there was
some doubt in the Lodge as to the wisdom of the movement at that time;
and that they were allowed to take that step only on the condition that
they should found and work the Society through others whom they could
direct and control. Then He went on to say that He had chosen a disciple
of his own, H. P. Blavatsky, and that He had sent her to America to
look for another disciple, H. S. Olcott, and that these were the outer
founders of the Society. Hence to me and to many others who believe that
these letters are genuine the nature of the origin of the Society cannot
be a matter of doubt.
Starting, then, from that standpoint, we find certain things were said
by H. P. Blavatsky as regards the nature of the Society, and certain
things by the Masters themselves. Both are very important for us in
consideration of the immediate future. The first of these things was
indicated by hints which the more advanced students could understand—that
the inner purpose of the Society was to prepare the world for the coming
of a new Race, and to be itself the nucleus of that Race; that one of
the Teachers was to be the Manu of the race, the other the Bodhisattva.
Now those exact facts were unpublished at the time, but they passed from
one to the other among the more advanced students of that period. Coming
into the Society in 1889, this particular fact did not come within my
knowledge until 1895. After the Coulomb struggle the Society for a time
dropped away from the occult path on which H. P. Blavatsky had started
it, and these ideas fell out of sight and were forgotten except by a
limited number. In 1895 they were re-communicated to myself by my
own Master, and have since been passed on to the older members of the
Theosophical Society.
Let us pause for a moment on the statement with regard to the Manu and
Bodhisattva. Every Root Race has for its guide a great Adept, much higher
than the great ones we call the Masters, and that office filled by a
mighty Being is an office the name of which indicates simply the man, the
thinker. The connotation is the ideal, typical man, making rather the
emphasis on the article “the.” The name is peculiarly suitable, because
each of these Manus at the head of the Root Race is the type of the
Race over which he is to preside. The types of the seven Races are part
of the plan of the Planetary Logos, and that plan is worked out, stage
after stage, by the Manus of the races. It is left to the Manu Himself
how He shall proceed with His work. He takes the responsibility of the
method He chooses. When the time comes to plan out the new Race, then the
coming Manu begins to take up His office, and always in connection with
another great Brother of His own rank, who is called the Bodhisattva.
The Manu of the Fifth Race, as you know, collected His people together
out of the fifth sub-race of the Fourth Root Race, sent out messengers
to call them together, brought them together, moulded them generation
after generation, and at last evolved them to the necessary physical
type. For the work of the Manu is double: to choose out those who show
in consciousness the germs of the new stage which is to evolve in the
coming Race; then, having chosen them out and stimulated that germ within
them, to set to work to shape the necessary bodies. Now in that far-off
time our own Manu of the fifth Root Race had to choose materials out of
the fifth sub-race, and He did not choose at all those who were regarded
as the best specimens of the day. Remember that the fourth sub-race,
like the fourth Root Race as a whole, showed out very powerfully all the
passional characteristics and the psychic qualities which accompanied
them. It was the fourth sub-race, the Toltec, which made the great
Empire, with the city of the Golden Gate as metropolis, that whose armies
spread over the known world, conquering everywhere, and in that sub-race
psychic qualities naturally played a great part. You will remember that
at the earlier stage of great emotional and passional manifestation,
psychic qualities are very largely developed before the development of
the lower mind. That evolution belongs to the astral body as a whole,
working not through the astral chakras, but through the astral centres
connected with our physical senses. The fourth sub-race carried all that
to the highest point. Children in the schools were picked out for their
paths in life by clairvoyance; and in all matters of policy, statecraft,
etc., clairvoyants were consulted, so that by the exercise of the psychic
qualities they might get the best possible knowledge to be had at the
time. Now the characteristics of the fifth sub-race were the diminution
of psychic power and the germinating of the seed of mind, and these
two things necessarily went together, so that, as that fifth sub-race
developed, the people of it were rather looked down upon by the highly
evolved psychic sub-race which preceded it. These people seemed to be
inferior; they could not use the powers which put their predecessors in
the very forefront of civilisation, and made this world and the astral
world almost one and the same. The children born with very little of
these psychic powers, the men and women who showed still less of it, were
by no means thought to have within them the promise of the future. Yet
out of these the Manu chose His material, because they showed the germ of
the mind which was specially wanted as the characteristic of the coming
Race. It did not matter that it was only a germ, or that they were much
less effective than the people of the mighty civilisation in which they
appeared. He was looking to the future, and so these people were by no
means the people whom the Atlanteans of the day would have chosen if
consulted in the matter. But the great people do not always consult with
the smaller people, who are so very sure of the rightness of their own
judgment. They have an uncomfortable way of following their own ideas;
and, as the Master “M” once said of some people who remarked that He
did not come up to their idea of an Adept, “The mark of the Adept is
not kept at Simla.” And that sentence is rather a good one to remember.
So also the mark of the disciple is not kept in London or in Chicago,
but in a very different part of the world, and to that those who know
something about it try to conform. So the choice of the Manu of the day
would have been regarded as a very poor one by the wise folk of the time.
Nevertheless he carried away his people and built them up into a great
Race.
Now there is something very instructive in that when we try to understand
the method of His choice in the light of the past, and the analogy of
principles. For we can see that if the germs of a sixth sub-race—from
which, later, a sixth Root Race will be born—are to be chosen out by Him
from the materials that the fifth sub-race affords, then the nature of
His choice probably will not be that which would be made by the leaders
of that fifth sub-race itself. Theirs to carry on to the highest point
the concrete, scientific mind, which is the glory of their sub-race.
Theosophists sometimes ask: “Why do not the great men of Science come
into the Theosophical Society?” Simply because they have their own work
to do; and their work at present is not to build the future civilisation,
but to lead to its highest point the present one. In the future, when
they shall have led that civilisation to the highest point, and when
it has taken its place at the head of the world’s thought, then will
come the time for these great minds to be reborn into another race, and
build on the splendid intellectual foundation they have laid. The work
of the world is the end that the great Ones consider, and these strong
scientific minds to-day are needed by the world to carry on the present
civilisation to the highest point. How unwise it would be to take them
away from the work that no one else can do, and set them to other work
they would do badly, not having turned their energies to the particular
qualifications that are wanted for it. And so in the wise plan of the
Manu of the fifth Race, the flower of the fifth or Teutonic sub-race
is taken in order that it may be raised up to the highest point of the
mānasic civilisation, and be carried on to its zenith of splendour
of scientific knowledge. But meanwhile it is His duty to help in the
building up of the other types—still his Race is the sixth sub-race—and
so to co-operate with His successor the Manu of the sixth Root Race.
For remember the Manu of all the sub-races of a Root Race is the same.
He is the Manu of the whole Race; when the time comes for beginning the
new Root Race, then the Manu of the Race that is regnant co-operates
with the Manu of the Race which is to come. Hence He who is to be the
Manu of the sixth Root Race, the Master “M,” the Moru of the Purānas, He
has begun His work. And He has begun it in a humble and insignificant
fashion, as the world would say, by striking the keynote of Brotherhood,
and by drawing into a Society those whose hearts thrill responsive to
that note. And why? Because the higher emotion that answers to universal
Brotherhood, to love of all, without distinction of race, sex, caste,
colour, or creed—that is the emotion, that is the germ of the buddhic
principle in man, the principle of unifying, of drawing the separated
together, of blending into one separate individualities, and making them
realise the spiritual unity which overshadows and underlies them all.
Hence universal Brotherhood is the only thing which is binding on members
of the Theosophical Society. Nothing else. The Theosophical teachings
as to Karma, Reincarnation, or the Masters, are not binding on the mind
or conscience of any member. This is an important point. It is not only
because a truth is better seen by the unfettered intellect than by an
intellect on which a dogma is imposed, though that is of importance; but
because the material which can be moulded into the Coming Race is the
material that can recognise the necessity and the beauty of universal
Brotherhood, and if that be recognised, nothing else for the moment is
necessary. Hence that is the only binding principle. Hence, also, the
attempts to narrow it down, prompted by those Dark Powers who do not
desire that the Society should grow and prosper for thousands of years
to come, the attempts to put in a little restraint here and a little
obstacle there, judging for the moment, and not for the future. That is
the inner meaning of having that one thing alone our bond of union. And
so the Manu made that the keynote to attract those who would answer,
“Yes; that is the very thing I want to join in and help.” And so the
nucleus of the great sixth Root Race began to be formed. But that is not
an immediate future, although already beginning. The sixth sub-race is
the immediate future; under the rule of the Manu of the fifth still, but
co-operating with the Manu of the Sixth, in order that those who show
signs of being fit material for the Coming Race may have a preliminary
practise of the virtues of that race. Hence the stress that H. P.
Blavatsky laid on this inner side of the working of the Theosophical
Society; and hence the need, because the time is passing rapidly,
to make public what has been kept private in the past of this inner
purpose, which has really dominated the Society from within, although not
recognised without.
Let us see how that immediate future should be recognised in its
characteristics, and thus prepared for. First of all we must understand
the words spoken long ago under the inspiration of the coming
Bodhisattva, that the Theosophical Society was to be “the corner-stone
of the future religion of humanity.” Now every sub-race has a special
religion, as it were. The religion of the fifth sub-race is Christianity.
What is the future religion of humanity in this sense? It differs from
all that have gone before. It is no longer an exclusive and separatist
faith, but a recognition that in every religion the same truths are
found; that there is only one true religion, the Divine Wisdom; and
that every separate religion is true just so far as it incorporates the
main teachings of that Divine Wisdom. The one supreme religion is the
Knowledge of God; to that everything else is subsidiary. Just in so far
as any special religion puts within the reach of its followers the means
for rising to that supreme knowledge, in so far is that religion worthy
of its place. And when that supreme test is not thoroughly answered—when
dogmas, and ceremonies, and rites become more important than this inner
truth of the gaining of individual knowledge of the Supreme—then the
religion becomes narrower, weaker, unspiritual, until a time comes when
either the religion must die or a new impulse must be poured into it to
bring it back to its original position, a channel for the knowledge of
God. Now, in the past many religions have done their work and passed
away, and we come to the present time, when certain great religions
are living. And when the great new spiritual impulse came, it was not
charged with the building of a new religion, but with the vitalising of
those great existing religions, to make them realise their underlying
foundation; they were vivified in order to help them to rise to a
more spiritual and mystic interpretation of their teachings; and when
that was done, they were to be blended together into a brotherhood
of Religions, so that all should recognise the Divine Wisdom as their
root. That was the first work of the Theosophical Society. It was done
all over the world. See how in India Hindūism was revived; in Ceylon,
Buddhism. Ask the ordinary missionary who comes over here, who is not
generally very broad-minded, and he will tell you that the great opponent
of Christianity in the East is the Theosophical Society. Then, if you
press him and ask, “But are Theosophists antagonistic to you?” “No,” he
will say, “but they strengthen the other religions, and thus prevent our
making converts.” And that is true. It is not our business to convert
people from one religion to another, but to try to make every one
realise the splendour of his own religion. Naturally, in India—except
in Travancore, where there has been a Christian Roman Catholic colony
from the very early centuries of the Church—Christianity is an alien
religion, and only grows by injuring the older religions of the land.
Naturally, then, the missionaries look on the Theosophical Society as
an opponent, because it has been the great factor in the revival of
Hindūism, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, and is beginning to be a factor
in the revival of Muhammadanism. Now, when you see that, and when you
come to the West and see how the same influence has been widening the
Christian Church, how mystical Christianity is spreading everywhere in a
way that would have seemed incredible some three years ago—see how narrow
it was, and look now, how everywhere the mystic thought is spreading, and
see how, in the Roman Catholic Church, the spreading of this spirit has
become so wide that the Pope is forced into fulminating against it, and
in the Modernism that he condemns we find Theosophy mentioned as one of
the forms—you will realise that that part of the work is almost done. I
do not mean that we are not to continue spreading abroad more spiritual
ideas, but that the work has been done so effectively already that it is
almost passing into the hands of the religions themselves. The clergy
are now preaching so much Theosophy that it hardly seems necessary to
continue preaching the parts they have adopted. The Theosophical teaching
as to the nature of the Christ in His birth in the human form, and His
growth into Divine Manhood—how common a doctrine that is now within all
the Churches of the West. The fact of Reincarnation is also becoming more
and more widely accepted—a doctrine no longer to be laughed at, but to
be carefully argued over, and forming a part of the deepest thought of
the Christian world. So that while we must still go on with that part
of the work, there are other parts of our work now that we ought to be
ready to take up. That religion of the future which is to include all
the religions as sects within itself, all of them going on into the
future, but recognising themselves as a Brotherhood, that is to be the
dominant religious thought of the great sixth Root Race, and in the sixth
sub-race we shall find it spreading everywhere. Now, how mighty will be
the advantage; because the moment all religions are seen to be branches
of one stock, then each religion can share with others the specialty
which it has been its duty to develop in the world. And nowadays, when
the Christian goes to India, instead of trying to convert the Hindū,
which he can never do, what he ought to do is to offer to share with
him that great special characteristic of Christianity, the principle
of self-sacrifice, and the helping of the weaker by the stronger—the
dominant note of Christianity. It is the doctrine of the Cross, the
emblem of self-sacrifice, of the coming down to the depressed in order
to lift them, leading them up side by side with ourselves. That is the
noblest thought of Christendom, typified in the mystic Christ; and that
you might well offer to share with the Hindūs, for that does not come
out so strongly in their great Faith. Rather will they bring to you in
exchange the doctrine of the immanence of God. Two things, Dr. Miller
has written, Hindūism brings to the world: the immanence of God, and the
solidarity of man. When religions exchange their best instead of finding
out each other’s weaknesses, then you have outlined the religion of the
future. Our work in that future is to continue what we have so well
begun, and spread this liberal, thoughtful, religious ideal through all
religions, destroying none, but permeating all.
Next we have to consider what we ought to do in the training of the
next generation; for there is great need that the Theosophical ideal of
education should spread through Western minds, and especially through
Britain and its empire. Religious education at the present time is in
peril; how great that peril is may be measured by the Moral Education
Congress gathered together in London last year to try to find a moral
basis that should furnish education apart from all the sanctions of
religion—a hopeless task, but none the less a sign of the peril of the
times. Now, we have had secular education in India. It has been the
English education the Government has given there. It could not give any
other because of the different religions of the country, and it was bound
not to help any one of these to the detriment of the others. The moral
result has been disastrous. It has fostered selfishness, indifference to
the country, lack of public spirit. It has given us a race of men who
have acquired from the West its superficial qualities, but not its inner
strength, not its inner capacity. And the troubles you have in India now
are largely the result of this anti-religious education, which has made
hundreds of the best Indian type skeptics, a thing which has only been
checked with the growth of the Theosophical Society throughout India. We
have turned back that irreligious wave, with the result that the Indian
Government to-day regards the Theosophical Society as the most likely
agency for training the youth of India along lines of freedom and order
at the same time. They realise that we have put our finger on the weak
point in their own system, and that our plan of giving to the child the
religion of his parents is really the way to solve that religious problem
in India. Now, over here you have to face the problem how to preserve
religion while letting dogmatism go; how to find a common ground, a few
common principles, which all Christians inculcate, leaving to a later
time in life the special sectarian divisions which the young man and
woman can acquire later if they wish. Now, in that the Theosophical
Society may well play a great part in the immediate future, strengthening
all the influences which make for the keeping of religion as an integral
part of education, helping to soften the bitter sectarianism, and
persuade the different denominations to remember that they are Christians
more than that they belong to this, that, or the other denomination. If
we succeed in that, then the service to the education of the empire will
be supreme.
Along other lines we want, if we can, to persuade the public mind to
become a little more receptive of new ideas; to lose a little of its
pride, and learn a little humility. Unless we are quite sure that
we are at the very top of human evolution, and that nothing greater
than ourselves can be evolved, then it would be the part of wisdom to
recognise that the next type, which is the type of the future, must be
different from the type of the present, and, in the beginning of its
evolution, new and strange. You may remember how J. S. Mill, in speaking
of liberty, laid immense stress on originality, and complained that
modern methods were tending to make all come to a single level; to do
away with the eccentric, even with the original. Now, for growth, variety
is wanted. Where there is no spontaneous variation in types, you have
stagnation. And yet every one of us is so fond of our own particular line
of thought that we take it almost as an offence if someone starts a new
thought which we cannot at once fit into our own mental grooves. Now, we
must try to correct that, first in ourselves, and then in the public at
large, especially in view of the coming of that mighty Teacher I have
spoken of. When He comes, the type of the sixth Root Race, He must be
very different from all of us, otherwise He would not be the type of the
new departure. How can we avoid treating Him when He comes exactly as
our predecessors of the fourth sub-race treated Him when He came last to
start the fifth? It is so easy for all of us, looking back to the mighty
Figure of the Christ, to realize something of its splendour, but we see
Him through the glamour of the religion which has made His name supreme
in many of your hearts. Try and put yourselves back in time, and see how
strange that new type would have then seemed to you, how against all your
prejudices. So different was He that He raised an antagonism so bitter
that they could not bear Him amongst them for more than three years,
and then murdered Him. It is hard for us to realise that. We are apt to
think, “If I had been there, I would have stood beside Him; I would not
have been amongst those who slew Him.” And yet there is no particular
reason to think we should not have done the same. It is a great lesson
for the immediate future. For when He comes again to bless this beginning
of a sixth sub-race, the buddhic, He will show out the qualities of
Buddhi prominently, and those are by no means very acceptable to the
modern world. Look fairly at your own minds and see how you stand on your
rights. It is the spirit of the time. If you have not what you think your
rights, you make a clamour for them. For the mānasic civilisation that
is the proper way, but those who want to go on in the new future that is
dawning have to throw all that aside. You must relinquish your “rights.”
If you are trampled on, you must recognise that it is only yourself of
the past trampling on yourself of the present: no one can trample on you
except a person who embodies your own past injustice, and is working out
that which you yourself have created. That is a very unpopular view, as
unpopular as the Sermon on the Mount. And so along many other lines of
that which is admirable from the popular standpoint—power, dominance,
the spirit which tramples down all opposition. How different from that
of the Wisdom which rules, but rules from within, “mightily and sweetly
ordering all things.” And if you will think over this in detail and work
it out, you will find you will have to change your ideal of what is
admirable, and build up on ideal on the basis of Spirit and unity, and
not on rights and claims. And that is one reason why the Theosophical
ideals very often find themselves rejected in the outer world. Those are
the qualities needed for the world as it shall be; and if we are to be
builders of that immediate future, we must develop them in ourselves.
But you may say: “Is it not rather a big assertion to make that this
Theosophical Society is really a nucleus of a great Root Race; that it is
the beginning of a sub-race? What right have you to make such a claim?”
The answer is, that looking back to the last choice, we should expect
to find the beginning of the new Race and new sub-race among those who
were not the leaders of the present, but had in them the germ of the
future. That is why our people are gathered not from the leaders and
the thinkers, but from the loving, the compassionate, the brotherly. It
seems a feeble thing, this power of Brotherhood. It is the mightiest
thing in all the world. And although it is true that we cannot expect to
find amongst us men and women of magnificent intellect and overwhelming
power of thought, we may expect to find amongst us the compassionate,
the gentle, and the loving, and those give the plastic material which
will yield itself to the fingers of the Manu to be moulded into a new
type, a higher evolution. Hence, from time to time the great shakings
that take place to shake out those who are too purely intellectual, and
who do not think the word Brotherhood is a word that ought to be heard
so much amongst us. The Masters have chosen Brotherhood as our mark, and
we cannot march in Their army if we will not bear Their sign. And so,
if mind makes us too self-assertive, too sure of our own superiority,
then we must be shaken out of this movement. So do not in this immediate
future be troubled if we still continue to go along our own quiet road of
attracting the loving and the gentle rather than those who are mighty in
their intellectual power. The thing of vital importance is the Spirit of
Brotherhood, and that we must never let go. And remember, in the whole
of the struggles of the future, as in those of the past, that they must
always rage round persons, and those who think more of personalities
than of principles are inevitably shaken out. If you make a person’s
presence or absence a reason for being in or out of the Society, you are
showing the spirit of separation, which cannot realise a principle, but
thinks only of the passing and transient personality. What can it matter
whether any one of you agrees or disagrees with Mr. Leadbeater, or with
Mr. Mead, or with anyone else? These are all persons. The principle of
the Society remain unshaken. Presidents are elected and Presidents die,
but the Society goes on. What folly, then, to give up a place in a mighty
movement because the person temporarily at the head of it is a person who
does not exactly fit into the shape you have made as your own particular
ideal. It does not matter. The Society is not bound by its President any
more than by anyone else. It is bound only by its great central principle
of Brotherhood. And so all of you who have stood through the past shaking
have shown that you care more for principles than for persons, and it
does not matter whether, so to speak, you have agreed or disagreed with
the President so long as you have stood firm within the Society; for
there lies the principle, whilst the other is only personality. Cling,
then, to that principle to which you have clung through the past storm;
recognise that whether a person be right or wrong, noble or ignoble,
great or small, that is a matter of secondary importance. The work of
the future lies in the movement, and not in the hands of any particular
individual who may happen to be here. Whether you or I come back to
this great movement in other lives depends on ourselves, and not on the
opinion that anyone else may happen to have about us. None can throw us
out of it if we are worthy to remain in it; none can keep us in it if we
are unworthy to be part of it. And realising kārmic law, realising the
greatness of the movement and its work in the future, let us join hands,
whether we agree or disagree with each other on any other matter save
that of Brotherhood, and go forward into the future that is unfolding
before us, brighter than ever the past has shone; go forward to the
making of the sub-race out of which the Root Race shall spring, under
the banner of our Manu and our Bodhisattva, the mighty Ones of years and
millennia to come.
Lecture III
The Catholic and Puritan Spirit in the Theosophical Society
The Value and Danger of Each
I want to try to trace out the somewhat difficult subject of the place of
the Puritan and the Catholic Spirit in our Society. I want to show that
both types are necessary in every great movement; that both have their
value and place, yet also their dangers. And if we realise that both are
necessary, it may help each type to be tolerant as regards the other, and
to see that each has its dangers.
Now, all the world over these two types are found; they are, in fact, two
marked temperaments, intellectual and emotional, into which, roughly,
you might throw almost all thoughtful and educated people, and even
the thoughtless and ignorant, for those also will show similar types,
although naturally less attractively, because more extreme, than they
may be among the class of people who at least are seeking to understand
themselves, and to gain some measure of equilibrium. Looked at from
the outside, the Catholic type is certainly the more attractive, and
therefore I want to impress upon you the value of the Puritan type;
because, being less attractive, its value is more likely to be
overlooked. If the Puritan spirit were completely lost, mankind would
lack that vigour and strength and tendency to free thought and free
judgment which are so essential to human evolution. Unfortunately, it has
often been united with a very cold and forbidding exterior; and if we
take the two types as we find them in the reign of Charles I., certainly
the Puritan is not very attractive from outside—hard, rather sour,
forbidding, and austere. But it is not quite fair to judge the Puritan by
that type in the reign of the Stuarts. It is not fair to pick out a type
at the moment where these two difficulties face it—danger to itself, and
the extreme evil of the type it is opposing. It is hardly fair to take
that moment for a judgment of the value of the temperament in itself.
But even if you take the Puritan of the time of Charles I. and Cromwell,
you can hardly help noticing, if you go beyond externals, the extreme
moral value of that type amid those difficult and dangerous surroundings.
Austere as it was, it was the austerity that was trying to guard itself
against continual danger of pollution, and naturally it ran into
extremes, as all reactions run, with the inevitable result that another
reaction followed on the first, and you had the loose and profligate
type of the Court of Charles II. It is the types I want to disentangle
from these special manifestations, and, looking at them apart, from all
conditions that may emphasise one characteristic or another.
Now, in what does the Puritan type exactly consist? It seems to
consist in an attitude of protest and criticism rather than of ready
acceptance of the prevailing thought of the time. The Puritan mind is
essentially critical, and critical in the modern sense of the term,
which, instead of making the critic a judge, makes him an opponent and
condemner. We must remember, however, that the true critical spirit is
absolutely necessary for human progress, even though it often slips into
condemnation and cynicism. The Puritan is always intellectual (I am
speaking of the purer type), a man in whom mind is predominant. He is of
the type that tends to separation rather than unity; he stands alone,
sufficient for himself (I say that rather than “self-sufficient,” the
second form connoting a rather unpleasant quality). We must realise the
strength of this type. The strength may slip into austerity, but that
very largely grows out of the religion to which the Puritan may happen to
be attached. You do not find him in his more aggressive form unless he
is protesting against something he regards as dangerous and mischievous.
Naturally, under these considerations he is thrown into the attitude of
combat, and hence all that is harshest and most hostile inevitably comes
to the surface. But that is not a necessary part of the Puritan spirit.
Looking at him as the intellectual man in whom emotion in this particular
life is comparatively weak, or if not weak, repressed; seeing that in him
the mental qualities are those which in this incarnation he specially
endeavours to develop; understanding that the mind can only be developed
where the qualities of analysing, comparing, and judging are active,
you can readily see how, in the face of opposition, these qualities
would turn into antagonism and protest. But I do not think antagonism
and protest are a necessary part of the Puritan spirit. In peaceful
times your Puritan would be distinguished rather as the analytical or
intellectual man, most valuable to any community into which he may be
thrown at the time. For you cannot develop the mind without developing
these analysing qualities: synthesis comes later, the one belonging to
the lower, the other to the higher Manas. Both need to be developed.
While the lower Manas is developing, you must have these qualities of
analysis, comparison, and judgment without which it is not possible to
lay a strong foundation for any belief. You must recognise the utter
necessity for the challenging, questioning, even doubting and sceptical
spirit. Only by means of this can error be detected, and the traditions
that come down from the past be gradually purified of the accretions that
have come to them during the ignorant periods through which they may have
passed. To be sceptical is no fault, but rather a virtue. If there is to
be progress at all, there must be challenging of that which has come down
from the past, so that, testing, analysing, criticising, you may be able
to separate the truth from the error. How would religion become ever more
and more spiritual if men are only to inherit, and never to examine and
understand? And since no religion or other form of thought can ever come
down through centuries without picking up a large amount of error, if we
had not this critical and challenging spirit all religions would grow
into superstitions, and that which is most valuable for the race would
gradually be covered under a mass of ignorant error. Hence at certain
times in the history of the race a great outburst of the Puritan spirit
is necessary. That alone will bring about fundamental changes, religious,
moral, and social; that alone has the courage to go forward whilst in
a minority, and test with the test of reason every belief and every
tradition. We must not, then, blind ourselves to the immense value of
this spirit in the intellectual development of man. For always, inasmuch
as religious and social order has come by some great Teacher enormously
beyond his own generation in religious, moral, and social development,
inevitably his teachings, handed down generation after generation, will
in many respects tend to be covered with superstition.
Let us pause for a moment and see what the word “superstition” means.
I do not think I can give a better definition than my old one:
“superstition is the taking of the non-essential as the essential.”
I think that you will find that that covers all the cases which you
would call superstitions—a truth originally; but in every truth there
are necessary and accessory parts. As the understanding of the truth
is clouded, the accessories take on too large a value in the minds of
people, until at last the accessory is everything and the essential
nothing.
I told once an Indian story which marks out clearly what is superstition.
There was once a very holy man in the habit of offering a sacrifice
by pouring butter into the fire—one of the ordinary Hindū ceremonies.
Morning after morning he duly performed this rite. He was much admired
by his neighbours, and the regularity of the discharge of his religious
duties led them to consider him a model worthy of imitation. This good
man happened to have a cat. As he was kindly-hearted and affectionate,
the cat loved him, and used to come up and interrupt his religious
service; so he put a collar round the cat and tied it to the bedpost
to prevent interruptions. Time went on, a few generations passed, and
then all of the people who copied this admirable saint not only offered
the sacrifice, but also considered it a part of the rite to have a
cat tied to the bedpost. Still more time went on, until at last all
that remained of the original ceremony was the cat tied to the bedpost
and nothing else. Now there is superstition: the harmless accessory
had become necessary, until it occupied the whole of the worshippers’
minds. This is often the case in religions which have lasted long, and
have had many ignorant adherents. They cannot distinguish between the
inner meaning and the outer form; and gradually the outer form becomes
everything, and the inner meaning disappears. Then comes the time when,
superstition having taken the place of truth, there rises up the critical
intellect of man, attacks the whole, and challenges the authority. Only
sometimes the critic is not evolved enough to recognise the truth at the
same time that he wars against the error. More often he takes the whole
as superstition and tries to destroy it completely. There you have the
history of many reformations. Take the great Reformation of the sixteenth
century. If you look back to that you will see that an enormous amount
of valuable truth was thrown aside in trying to get rid of the surface
error with which the truth had been covered. And so in tracing down the
growth of the Puritan spirit from the time of Luther, through Calvinistic
Switzerland, up to Scotland with John Knox, and then looking at it as it
spread over England, and became so powerful under James I. and Charles
I., you will recognise that in the whole of that there is a gradual
throwing away of everything that the mind could not grasp and understand,
and consequently a great loss of the spiritual side of things. The result
of that historically has been that the truth that was thrown away in the
getting rid of the error came back again a little later. And so with
certain fundamental tendencies in man, against which the Puritan of that
time set himself utterly—the use of images in public worship, the use of
music, the use of garments different from the everyday garments, and so
on—all these points that he threw aside as part of the Papal abomination
came back again, slowly, steadily, gradually spreading through the whole
of the Anglican Church. So that you have this remarkable object-lesson,
which it would be well for all Puritan-spirited people to remember.
You may visit a cathedral to-day. Outside the cathedral you will see
the statues which were broken by Cromwell’s soldiery; and inside the
cathedral, on or round the high altar and chancel, you will see the
modern statues placed there in order to help the devotional spirit in the
congregation.
I have purposely taken the Puritan spirit outside the Theosophical
Society so that you may look at it apart from any special question of
interest to our own Society. If you see the value of that in religion,
you will welcome its presence in the Theosophical Society. You will
realise that that spirit is wanted in order to balance and keep in check
what might otherwise be the excess of the Catholic spirit. You will
realise that our critical friends are doing us an immense service in
their criticism, and that it only becomes mischievous when the critical
spirit grows into antagonism and dislike, which need not at all accompany
it, and should not accompany it in a well-balanced and thoughtful mind.
We must have that spirit amongst us, otherwise the enthusiastic will
run away too rapidly and fall into error. The chill that sometimes it
causes is a very valuable element for mental growth. We do not want to
have nothing but chill—that will prevent growth altogether; but if we
were more tolerant with each other, then we might have the advantage of
the chill, which would keep the intellectual atmosphere clear and sharp,
without having the very life chilled out of us by criticism.
Let us now pause on what we mean by the Catholic spirit. By that I
mean the spirit which is reverent of tradition, which is willing to
submit to reasonable and recognised authority, which is willing to take
a great plan and co-operate in it, and realise that the presence of
the architect of the plan, if He be a person highly developed, say a
Master, is enough to give it authority, and that there is no lack of
freedom or dignity in accepting the plan of a greater, and working it
out to the utmost of one’s ability. It is the spirit which, largely
emotional, when it rises into love of the higher and becomes devotion,
causes sympathetic vibrations on the buddhic plane, and so begins the
awakening of the Spirit above the intellect. Again, with this Catholic
spirit you always find the love of beauty. It is artistic. It seeks to
clothe thought in forms of beauty. It loves ceremonial, takes a pleasure
in harmonised expression of thought, and desires that everything round
it should be emotionally satisfactory as well as intellectually sound.
Moreover, its mind is eminently teachable, where the Puritan is not.
Hence it is far easier to lead it along the path of what is called
Occultism. The Catholic mind very readily recognises that those above
itself in development may be able by guidance and teaching to help it
to reach knowledge which, unaided, it would be unable to achieve. The
Puritan would walk alone; the Catholic would utilise every assistance
that can be given in evolution, including the assistance of human beings
more highly developed, as well as of spiritual intelligences. And so
you have round it an atmosphere which readily responds to impulses from
the spiritual worlds, and always with this spirit you find the tendency
toward Occultism of various kinds. I do not think you ever find that
tendency in connexion with the Puritan spirit. You may find with the
Puritan spirit sometimes a lofty form of mysticism, a recognition of a
Spirit as the Life of the universe, and an attempt to realise that Spirit
within oneself. That you may reach largely by way of the intellect,
and emotion is not necessarily concerned in it. Intellectually you may
realise unity, and then pass into the mystical ideal of the One in the
Many, to be recognised in each. And you do find occasionally in the great
Puritans of the past a very noble, though somewhat stern and cold, form
of mystical belief; whereas the moment you come to Catholic mysticism,
you find yourself in an atmosphere charged with emotion. The Catholic
Mystic is swept up in a great surge of emotion to the Object of his love;
the Puritan Mystic calmly, almost coldly, recognises the greatness of the
Object of his worship, intellectually tries to realise, and by that to
some extent unifies himself with It. You have an example of the Puritan
Mystic in Cromwell. Read his letters, read the letters of the man, wrung
out of his heart by the strain of doubt and despair, and clinging, in
spite of all temptation, to his belief in the reality of a Divine Power
whose instrument he was. You will rise from that reading with a new idea
of the strength of the man, and realise that with all that strength there
was the recognition of the strength of God and of his own strength as
being only an instrument in the divine hands. But you never find the
Puritan Mystic the expression of love, of passionate affection, that are
so common among the Catholic Mystics; and more than anything else is the
difference marked when you come to deal with Occultism.
And there, in our own Society, is a point we ought to pause upon. The
Catholic type amongst us will be one that will readily respond to the
idea of the Masters, the Puritan less quickly. The Catholic mind in the
Theosophist will not only recognise the ideal of the Masters, but will be
fired with a desire to tread the path that They have trodden. There will
be a looking up of reverence, an outstretching of the hand for guidance;
a realisation that by that dependence more rapid progress may be made
than along any other line. That which is invisible will exercise a potent
attraction; he will always be trying to know something of the invisible
worlds and their inhabitants, he will always be reaching out toward these
worlds and trying to expand his consciousness into communication with
them. He will be willing to train himself with that in view, and you
will have in him the possibility of the Occultist which you will not find
in the Puritan type. For you cannot begin this part of occult knowledge
along the purely intellectual lines. The intellectual exertion will check
at once the evolution of the other vehicles. The moment you begin to
think: “What am I doing? Is it imagination? Is it hallucination?” you
check the growth of the subtler faculties of the man. You are obliged
for a time to go on without questions, feeling, sensing, groping, and
refusing to allow the mind to come in with its analysing spirit, that
chills everything down so much that these budding faculties, as it were,
shrink back from the touch of the frost, refusing to unfold. “Well,”
you say, “there is a danger. The person may become overcredulous, may
be utterly led astray.” True. It is the necessary danger of all such
research. Only step by step do you learn by experience to distinguish
between the true and false, between the thought-forms created by yourself
and the inhabitants of other worlds into which you are penetrating with
half-opened eyes. But remember that distinguishing does not do away with
the reality of the thought-form. Your own thought-forms which surround
you when you first pass on to the astral plane are real forms in astral
matter. They deceive you, yes, because they are your own creations, and
only give you back the things you are thinking about. They repeat to you
your own thoughts, and there lies the element of danger. But you can only
outgrow that by experience, exactly in the same way that the baby learns
that it cannot catch hold of the glittering thing at the end of the room,
but, to reach it, must cover a great deal of space. You do not think it
heartbreaking because the baby makes mistakes. You are content that he
shall learn. Why not be as philosophical about yourselves? You know that
they will grow out of their ignorance by experience. So will you. Those
who always want to be right are people who will never make Occultists.
The Occultist must be ready to plunge forward, and possibly tumble into
a bog, but be ready to go on again afterwards, learning by experience
to understand. Those who will not face this have not enough of the
Catholic spirit to make Occultists, and had better leave it for another
incarnation.
There is another danger, one especially seen here—the dependence upon
another. I have often been asked: “How can you develop independence
and judgment if you are always trying to do the will of another, whom
you call your Master?” The answer is simple. You look to your Master
for direction, and He may point you to some work to be done. You take
the work because He told you to do it. So far you are the obedient
servant; but your judgment, your reason, all your thought-power, all
your initiative, are taxed to the utmost in the achievement of the task.
A sensible Occultist never goes running to his Master and asking, “How
shall I do this?” He knows that is not the Master’s work. The Master has
done His part in saying “Do that.” How you do it tests you, and brings
out your strength and weakness. And the Master is far too wise to prevent
your bringing out your strength and discovering your weakness by doing
for you what He has told you to do. Hence the Occultist develops all
his faculties in the attempt to do his Master’s will. The two things
work well together, and he does not become weak but strong in realising
that the Master is greater than he, and knows far better the plan of the
work, while he himself, in carrying out his own portion of it, finds full
employment for every faculty of brain and heart.
It is scarcely possible for the typical Puritan to become an Occultist in
the life in which this side is being so strongly developed. You cannot
understand everything when you go into unknown worlds; and unless you
are willing to be ignorant, there is no possibility of discovering new
knowledge. Every pioneer of science—to quote, I think, Faraday—“runs
about like a dog with his nose to the ground, trying to find out a
trail.” That is exactly the way of the experimenter. You must search for
yourself for the trace which will guide you to the desired knowledge;
and if you will not do that, you must take the results of others, and be
content with these results for this life.
But, now, how will these two types of spirit work when they come to, say,
such a question as that of Mr. Leadbeater? You will have at once the
working of the critical intelligence which sees faults more readily than
virtues, and bad motives more readily than good. That is its weakness.
But it also has its value in pointing out certain dangers into which
the Society might otherwise slip. The Catholic spirit will be far more
ready to take it for granted that one from whom they have learned much,
whom they know to have far vaster knowledge than their own, may have
some other reason which they do not see, which would justify to the doer
what he has done, and they do not feel that curious sense that they
must save their neighbours’ souls, whether their neighbours desire it
or not. They are content to say, “This is my road, that is his”—a wider
and more generous spirit. Nevertheless, I think we should do well also
to recognise that the presence in the Society of the critical and even
judging spirit has at some times its value. But it is not a foundation
on which anything can be built, and that is sometimes forgotten. You
cannot build an enduring edifice on the grounds of protest against
someone else. It cannot endure. It is curious to notice that the same
people who condemn personality when the tendency of the personality is
love and devotion, are the people who show personality most strongly when
they antagonise and dislike. I admit to the full that principle should
guide, not personality; but I cannot admit that a love for a personality
is wrong, whilst a hatred of a personality is right and admirable. Both
may put persons above principles if the two come into clash. And it is
putting a personality above a principle when you desert the Theosophical
Society, forgetting the great principles which make it immortal, and
leave it, protesting against it, because one or two people hold views
with which you do not agree. It is the _ne plus ultra_ of personality.
Mr. Leadbeater and Mrs. Besant are both comparatively old, and cannot
at the most live very long. What utter folly, then, to desert the great
principles incarnated in the Society because of the antagonism of two
transitory personalities! If Theosophy be anything at all, then it is
everything in life, and is not to be given up for anyone, whether saint
or criminal. Suppose a hundred murderers were members of the Society, is
that any reason why you or I should go out of it? It seems to me that the
fact that we disapprove of that so much is a reason for staying in the
Society, in order to strengthen it in the hour of its peril and to carry
it through.
We need in the whole of this to study our own nature first, and find out
our weak points, and then to guard against that weakness in the time
of storm and stress. And we need, more than that, to realise that very
often when people oppose us, they oppose us because of their virtues,
and not because of their vices. That is, that the people who are utterly
against me now are against me because of their virtues. They are wrong
in the view they take—they misconstrue; that does not matter. But the
fundamental reason why they oppose is because they believe that I am
condoning what is wrong. That is a good feeling and right. But it is not
right when it goes into hatred and calumny, when people go about telling
abominable stories of all kinds which are utterly false, using them as
weapons to injure. But, none the less, the beginning lay in a virtue—the
desire to guard the Society from harm; and that ought to be recognised
even when it has run into excess. If we can do that, then, in the midst
of struggle, we shall be learning the true Theosophical spirit, which
sees the good first, and only recognises the excess afterwards. And my
suggestion is: “Train yourself, in your ordinary thinking, to see first
the good of a person or thing, and only afterwards allow yourself to see
the weakness or evil.” Then you will get all the good of your critical
spirit, and be guarded against much harm. But if you see the bad side
first, you are likely not to see the good side at all. These things test
our members, and show whether we are fit to go along this great path or
not—show whether we are ready to be part of that great Sixth Race which
is coming, or whether we are so wedded to our own opinions that outside
those we can see nothing good.
The trouble is practically over, but we should remember its lessons—a
wider tolerance, a sterner self-criticism, and a more charitable attitude
towards our fellows. You cannot be too hard in criticising yourself,
nor too tolerant and charitable towards your neighbour. Remember that
in every one of us the Self is endeavouring to express something of
himself. In our own case we have the right to criticise every obstacle
put in the way of His manifestation, to be hard in our judgment of
ourselves, pitiless in our condemnation of our every fault and weakness.
But we cannot govern the manifestation of the Self in another; hence our
criticism is useless and impertinent—does not help, but hinders; for if
the other person is wrong, as you think he is, then your harsh judgment
makes an added barrier in his way when the Self in him is trying to guide
him back to the right, whereas your charity, your tolerant respect, will
help him to realise the noblest in him. Hence the lesson of this great
shaking should be criticism of ourselves and charity to all around us.
Recognition of our own type, clear self-judgment, so that we may walk
aright and help others as much as may be; and, above all, so to purify
our own characters that we may be channels for the life that flows in the
Society, and may not soil it as it passes through ourselves. The Society
can never die by attacks from without, nor by desertions from within;
it can only die when its members are careless of their own thought,
their own character, their own ideas; that, and that alone, can make the
Society unworthy of the guidance of its Teachers. It was once said: “So
long as three men remain in the Society worthy of our Lord’s blessing it
cannot perish.” That was a word spoken by a Master in the days when the
Society was weak and struggling, and when the few people that belonged
to it feared it would never survive the storm that shook it in the time
of the Coulomb attack. Think of that if any other storm should approach
us—although we are not likely now to have another for the next twelve
years; but when a storm comes, remember that inspiring idea, that as long
as three remain in the Society it cannot perish; and add to that the vow
registered by the Higher Self: “If others depart, I will be one of the
three.”
Lecture IV
The Sacramental Life
I am to speak to you to-night on a subject of deep interest to those who
regard the religions of the world from the standpoint of Occultism. In
all the great religions we find what are called “sacraments,” to take the
Western name; and in all religions the object is the same—the endeavour
to spiritualise the ordinary life of man; to make it possible for men
and women living in the world, blinded by their bodies, unable to rise
above the material limitations—to enable those men and women to come
into direct touch with higher worlds and higher beings, and so, from the
definite sacramental act, to pass on until the whole life may become a
sacrament by the radiation of spiritual life through the material coating.
Now different religions have different numbers of sacraments, although
the essence remains the same. In Hindūism the sacraments are very
numerous. Ten are recognised as of universal application, but the number
will run up to thirty or forty if you take all the ceremonies that are
distinctly recognised as having this character among the more orthodox
Hindūs. The number, after all, is immaterial; it is the fundamental
idea which is important. As knowledge of the meaning of the sacraments
spreads, especially in the Western world, it will be found that many
things that have been put aside as superstitious will come back with
a new light and power. Certain ideas which were cast aside at the
period of the Reformation were thrown aside rather by reaction than
for any defensible reason. The way in which many of the thoughts and
dogmas of the Roman Catholic Church were pressed among the people, the
widespread ignorance of meanings while forms were carefully observed,
not unnaturally brought about a powerful reaction when reason began to
challenge the ceremonies. As occult knowledge had practically fallen into
the background among the great mass of the Roman Catholic priesthood,
there came rejection of that which could not be rationally explained.
As we are able to see the justification for very much that then was
rejected, however, we realise that many of these things will come back.
And if we think, it is not unnatural that these should return. Going back
to the early days of religion (I am thinking now of Christianity, but
it is the same in all the great religions), we find the Founder and his
immediate disciples who shape and mould the religion. As these men were
men to whom the spiritual world was familiar, and as their duty was to
make bridges between the ordinary mass of men and the great spiritual
teachings of religion, it was inevitable that in the forms of worship
laid down by them there should be in the background occult truths. Hence
we find in the early Church the great institution of the Mysteries; and
I shall want, later on, to show the relation between the Mystery, the
Sacrament, and the great legend of the Holy Grail.
Let us now consider what a sacrament really is. I do not think we can get
a better definition than in the Catechism of the Anglican Church: “An
outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace”—something that
is outer, tangible, that the senses can appreciate, a material object;
then, with that, indissolubly connected, certain facts of the invisible
world, so that the outer sign is able to act as a channel for the inner
reality. But also, under the heading of “outward and visible sign,” you
want something beyond the material object; you want a material gesture
and material words. These three things are always present in a sacrament;
some material object which is the immediate channel, certain sounds or
words which make a change in the subtle material mingled with the denser
material of that object, and a gesture called often the “sign of power,”
as the words are called “words of power.” Now the gesture must be one
through which magnetism can be thrown on to the object which is affected
by the words.
Let us see how those facts are bound together in the sacrament itself,
and what is their connexion with the constitution of man and of the
worlds in which he lives. The worlds with which the man is connected,
for our present purpose, we can take as the physical, astral, mental—the
three worlds in which turns the wheel of births and death. He is in those
three—either in all of them together, as when in the physical world;
in two of them, as when in the astral world; in one only when in the
heavenly world. For remember that only in the physical world are the
three bodies available that connect him with all of the three at the
same time. In these three worlds, then, man is continually living. He
is related to them by his physical body, astral body, and mental body,
so that you have a living intelligence, a spiritual being, who, by means
of the matter that he has appropriated in these three worlds, is able to
come into contact with each of them. But now arises the question: Given
a spiritual intelligence clothed in this triple veil of matter; given
the fact that that spiritual intelligence, by the veil of matter, is in
contact with three worlds—how shall he be able to come gradually into
conscious connexion with each, so that the stream of spiritual life,
coming down from the spiritual world, may at once purify the matter of
his bodies, illuminate his consciousness in these three stages, and so
begin the great work of spiritualising the whole man? That is the problem
that religion has had to solve. So far as ordinary Protestantism is
concerned, the body has been cast aside as a very temporary possession,
only occupied by the spiritual intelligence during one brief life,
and hardly worth troubling about. Hence the body has become very much
neglected from the ordinary standpoint of Protestantism, and the reaction
against that has taken the form of materialism, so that you find people
rejecting the view of the worthlessness of the body, and falling into a
materialism in which the body is made the most important thing. Instead
of that, in the earlier days of the great faiths, the body was regarded
as a valuable possession, a thing to be made holy, to be sanctified, in
order that it might be a fitting instrument of the spiritual intelligence
therein embodied.
And so, in all these earlier days of religions, continual relationships
were being made, first between the spiritual world and the lower worlds,
and then between the embodied intelligence and the bodies that that
intelligence is wearing. Hence the sacraments which should touch both
body and consciousness, which should sanctify the material vehicles
while illuminating the spiritual intelligence, which should make the
whole man really spiritual in order that the object of incarnation might
be accomplished—that matter in all the worlds should be rendered the
obedient servant of Spirit. That was the object of the sacrament. Hence
the necessity for the material object in order that it may come into
touch with the dense body. Hence the need of the signs in order that,
by the vibrations set up, sent on to subtler planes, the subtler bodies
might be set vibrating, and be able to receive the downfall of spiritual
life. Hence also the need for the gesture, so that the magnetic force
sent out in the consecration might link together the denser and the
subtler matter by this bond of magnetism, and in that way might make
the whole of the material object a vehicle for the higher life while
preparing the bodies for the reception of that downflow.
Now let us, in order to work out these principles, take the sacrament
of Baptism. In this you know that you have the whole of these three
conditions of a sacrament present—water, the material object; the
words of power; the consecration of the water. You have the words of
consecration, praying God to sanctify this water to the mystical washing
away of sin; and then you have the sign of power—the cross made over the
water—in order that the magnetism from the fingers of the priest may
magnetise it, and be the link between the physical water and the astral
matter which interpenetrates it.
I pause for a moment on the phrase “words of power.” The whole
understanding and use of such words depends on the fact that every sound
causes certain definite vibrations. Wherever there is a sound there is
a correlated vibration. Now a mantra, or word of power, is a certain
definite succession of sounds made by an Occultist in order to bring
about certain definite results. That is as much a scientific fact as a
fact that none of you would challenge—that you can by producing a musical
note set up vibrations in a glass or rod or string which is sympathetic.
You remember the experiments of Tyndall. He would show how by a certain
sound you could shiver a piece of glass. What really happens? The glass
begins to vibrate. As the vibrations are made by the note, it repeats
them; if it is more than the glass can respond to, the particles are
torn asunder and the glass is broken. Exactly a similar line of thought
conducts you to the use and meaning of the mantra. The Occultist tries
certain sounds. He finds out what are the sounds that bring about the
vibrations that he desires. Having discovered that experimentally, he
puts those sounds into a definite order and then gives a sentence which
will reproduce that sequence of sounds whenever the sentence is uttered.
This sequence of sounds causes vibrations, which in their turn set up
vibrations in the subtle bodies. The more the mantra is repeated, the
more powerful the result. Hence the use of repetition that you find so
much in Church formulæ. Hence the use of the rosary, so that you may not
have the jar of counting in producing the vibrations that you require.
Now it is obvious that a mantra cannot be translated without losing
part of its power. It may still have a power from the thought which is
in it, but the sequence of sounds is affected. Hence the special value
of the mantra apart from the thought which the words embody. Hence the
wisdom of the Greek and Roman Catholic Churches in using their words of
power as given by the Occultists who devised them. Unfortunately, in
the Reformation, occult knowledge being at a discount, it was thought
you could translate the words of power without losing the effect. You
keep the effect caused by the thought; you lose a very large part of
the mechanical effect caused by the sounds. What is lost of ordinary
mechanical effect has to be brought about by devotion or will-power;
whereas if you produce the vibrations mechanically, you then have all
your devotion and will-power left undiminished to bring about the higher
results. There is the value of the scientific ways of dealing with the
bodies. It is not a question of consciousness now, but of the bodies, and
only secondarily of the effect on the consciousness of the vibrations
of the bodies; yet that also cannot be left out. Just as a change in
consciousness brings about a certain vibration, so does a vibration bring
about a corresponding change in consciousness. Hence to set up right
vibrations helps the consciousness to remain in a certain condition,
and we naturally find that in the Greek and Roman Catholic Churches the
effects produced by the words of the sacrament are greater than these
produced in Churches where the words of power are translated. One
advantage that comes out of that is that, in the first case, where the
priest is using the words that themselves make the vibrations, the man’s
character, devotion, and knowledge are not as important as they are in
the case where the mechanical effect is lost, and the priest must supply
by his own devotion and will-power that which could be more readily
produced by the mantra. It is out of that that has come the statement
that the unworthiness of the priest does not destroy the worth of the
sacrament. Certainly it is not as potent where the priest is unworthy,
but where the mechanism is perfect, the worker not being perfect is less
important.
Now if a clairvoyant watches what is done when a sacrament is taking
place, he sees that on the repetition of the words of consecration
and the making of the sign of power a visible change occurs in the
consecrated object. It is most marked if we turn to the Mass, or Holy
Communion. You have there on the altar the sacred elements—the bread
and the wine. According to the Roman Catholic doctrine, at the words of
power, what is called “transubstantiation” takes place. That teaching
has been very much misunderstood by the ordinary Protestant. He does not
realise that in every visible object there is an invisible and formative
idea; that that idea, working along ordinary lines, produces one of the
ordinary objects that you see around you; but that if the idea be changed
by the use of a word of power, a mantra, that that change of the idea
produces a change of astral matter, and in the etheric and even dense
physical matter also a change of vibration is set up. And although it
is true that in the densest matter the vibration is not powerful enough
to alter the arrangement of the particles, it is true that in all the
most important part of that object a change has occurred, and it is that
change which is indicated by the word “transubstantiation.” No instructed
Roman Catholic ever was foolish enough to think anything save that which
I am now putting to you. Now if that idea seems strange, let me remind
you of a simple fact which will throw light on the whole thing. Students
of organic chemistry are familiar with isometric compounds. Those
compounds are made up of exactly the same number of the same chemical
elements. Nevertheless, the chemist will tell you that according to
the inner arrangement of those elements will be the qualities of the
thing. You may have in some of the higher carbon compounds (even so low
down as where you have entering into the base only four carbon atoms)
an arrangement or rearrangement of those elements such as to give you
entirely different qualities—in one case a poison, in the other harmless.
That change of arrangement makes all the difference. Is it so strange,
then, that in changing the inner arrangement the qualities change? In
the invisible worlds these things can be seen, so that that piece of
opaque bread, when the words are spoken, utterly changes in appearance,
becoming luminous and shining out in every direction. Now the moment
one sees that, one begins to realise what a sacrament means from the
material standpoint. You are dealing with an object that can be changed
in its qualities. You are reconstituting the subtle portions of that by
the forces you are bringing to bear on it. With what object? In order
that, from the planes above the mental, spiritual power pouring down may
find a vehicle which is able to assimilate it and carry it down to the
densest plane of matter, and by that vehicle may be passed on to those
who are partakers of the sacrament. And not only do you see that change
appearing in the elements, but you see also that that change draws to the
altar numbers of those whom the Hindūs call Devas, and the Christians
call Angels, who lend their powers to the helping of the worshippers, and
change the atmosphere of the whole place to which they throng.
Now the moment anyone sees this, he realises that much has to come back
to some of the religious sects of the West in order to make them what
they ought to be. And the result of losing sight of all this inner part
of the Christian ceremonies, rites, and formulæ has been the tendency
to grow more and more materialistic, until you find that the ordinary
Protestant knows of nothing as between himself and God, nothing of the
work of all that mighty hierarchy of spiritual intelligences who form the
ladder between earth and heaven. Hence the gradual disappearance from the
modern mind of the teaching of the ministry of Angels. How much of it
has slipped out of knowledge, and how much all life has lost of beauty
by the passing away of these links between the higher and lower worlds.
When a person takes the sacrament, you have there the actual physical
touch all along the material lines, a real purification of the body as
well as illumination of the intelligence. But you may say: “Does it all
turn on this outward ceremony—these words and signs?” No. There is, in
addition to that, in the consciousness of the worshipper, a tremendous
potency which assimilates that which pours down from the higher worlds.
And although it be true that that potency is very much more readily
assimilated when all the material coverings have been tuned and made
ready to receive it, none the less is it also true that even where that
part of the sacrament is wanting it is a veritable means of grace to
those who realise the inner meaning, although not understanding the
importance of the outer form. I think that there is little doubt that,
as Occultism spreads, this will all come back to the Churches; for it is
part of the Theosophical mission to restore that which has been lost, to
bring to knowledge again that which has been forgotten.
And there are also other things in relation to this which will come
into modern life again as the truth of the sacrament is recognised. So
many discussions there have been about the Apostolic Succession, the
passing of power from one to another by a sacrament, not recognised as
a sacrament in some part of the Anglican Church, but recognised by the
Roman Catholic Church as the Sacrament of Holy Orders. There, again, a
physical passing of magnetism; there, again, a definite succession, a
hierarchy which is an image of the hierarchy in higher worlds. For always
religions have reflexions of the realities of the higher worlds, and
these reflexions have their power and their use. Now, in the ordinary
Protestant community, and even in the great Anglican Church itself,
only two sacraments are normally recognised—the sacrament of the altar
and that of the font. Outside those, as you know, the Greek and Roman
Catholic Churches have others in addition to that of Holy Orders above
mentioned—all of them, from the standpoint of the sacramental life,
important. They have the Sacrament of Confirmation; but that ought surely
to be recognised as a sacrament everywhere, for you have there the
essential parts of the sacrament and the conveying of a spiritual power.
So also they have the Sacrament of Penance, in which the spiritual power
is again conveyed which enables the penitent by effort and repentance
to regain spiritual strength when it has been injured by sin. So you
have also the Sacrament of Matrimony, and the loss of the sacramental
side of marriage has led very largely to its degradation in Protestant
countries. So also the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, which is, curiously
enough, coming back among Protestants. Look at the accounts of the Guilds
of Healing established in the Church—no less than three in the Anglican
community. They have restored the sacramental use of oil, founding
themselves upon a passage in the New Testament: “Is any sick, let him
call the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him
with oil in the name of the Lord”—a sacramental act. You have the oil as
the vehicle of the magnetism, the name of the Lord as the word of power,
and in putting on the oil ever the sign of the Cross is used. Now it
is a very significant thing that that has been brought back definitely
by members of the Anglican Church, priests and laity, to-day; and one
wonders very much why in the Roman Catholic community, with the occult
knowledge of its leaders, it has that use of sacramental oil only at the
death-moment, when its great value cannot be utilised. That is one of
the points I cannot quite make out in studying the ritual of the Roman
Catholic Church.[4]
Now, supposing that you recognise that fact of a sacrament, how would
it affect your ordinary daily life? It would gradually discipline your
mind to realise that all life is sacramental, rightly understood; that
every outer action should be connected with a spiritual truth; and in
this way all your actions would cease to be hindrances, and would tend
to become helpers. Among the Hindūs this is largely recognised, for all
the great actions of the daily life with them are sacramental. Every true
Hindū, on waking, prays that as his eyes open to the light of the day, so
his Spirit may open to the light of the inner Self. In his daily bath,
as he pours the water over his body, his prayer is, that as the water
washes the body, so may the mind be cleansed and the heart purified. All
the bodily actions are consecrated as the reflexions of the spiritual
life, and the effect of that is to make a disciplined, self-controlled,
balanced character. The daily training gradually makes the whole life
orderly; and it is not without significance that in the religions where
the sacramental life is realised, there it is that you find the type of
character that all speak of as the Saint—a man who is ever alive to the
realities of the higher world; the man who lives in the Spirit, although
also living in the body.
Now I said that this idea was connected with the Mysteries and with the
Grail. Let me try and show you how; and in this I am using the thought of
the great French writer, Schuré, who, writing on the mystical idea in
the music of Wagner, pointed out the close resemblances and differences
between the sacrifice of the Mass and the legend of the Grail. Now it
is a historical fact, apparently, that with the disappearance of the
Mysteries from Europe and the Christian Church, this legend began slowly
to work its way among the European nations. There were the Mysteries of
Jesus, and those played in the Christian Church exactly the same part
that is played by the Yoga training, say, in Hindūism or Buddhism. There
was the life of the ordinary sacraments for the ordinary believer. Those
were the means whereby the true believer came into touch with the higher
worlds. But when a man had learned all he could in the outer circle of
the Church, when he had used the sacramental means of grace so that he
was able to say that his life was pure, that he had been “for a long
time conscious of no transgression,” then he was allowed to present
himself as candidate for the Mysteries of Jesus. Within those Mysteries
the realities replaced the outer mechanism of the sacrament. There, no
longer by gift from without, as in the sacrament, but by effort and
struggle the vision of the spiritual life was attained. And when those
Mysteries passed away, not because there were not teachers, but because
there were no pupils ready to be taught, then it was that this story of
the Grail was given as an announcement, however veiled, that the ancient
Path still remained open to the worthy aspirant. For what is the inner
meaning of the Grail, and how do the main points of it connect with the
Christian sacrament? Different, yet similar. In the one it is the outer
form of bread and wine, symbolising the body and blood of Christ; in the
other, the sacred cup, in which it was said that once a year the blood
of Christ shone out with brilliant and purifying light. In both an outer
symbol. But in the sacrament that outer symbol is given to the believer,
and, without effort of his own, the greater Self outside him gives to
the weaker Self within. But in the Grail it is by effort and struggle,
by temptation and resistance, that the vision becomes possible. He has
entered on the Path where outer aid is withdrawn, and where the inner
power must replace the outer assistance. In the Church sacrament, faith
is the means whereby the truth must be attained. In the inner, vision and
knowledge take the place of faith, for the successful knight sees the
vision of the Grail—the Cup, with all its glory, is revealed before him.
And so in the outer a dogma is taught, in the inner there is knowledge.
But what is a dogma? Knowledge imposed by authority. In the Grail it is
an inner revelation, a true initiation into the Mysteries; and it is that
inner revelation which takes the place of dogma, a revelation which comes
by inner illumination instead of being taught by the outer authority of
a Church. And so you find that in that vision the dove appears—symbol of
inspiration. The inspiration of the inner revelation is ever there, and
that inner revelation belongs to the body of the Initiates, the elect
out of all humanity. They hand it on to the world outside, that which is
knowledge to them becoming dogma to the outer world. And so you can see
that in the Grail legend the teaching of the Mysteries was symbolically
conveyed, and those who were able to pierce through the meaning of the
legend had their feet placed upon the Path where the symbols became
reality; the principle running through was identical. And so the lesson
was taught that for those who cannot yet themselves build a bridge to
the higher world, the outer sacrament is given as the bridge to unite
the two; but when the man is able to make his own bridge, the sacrament
for him is no longer necessary. He can reach the worlds above without
the assistance of the bridge, and then he becomes the Knight of the
Grail. That is still true. The Churches must ever give the sacraments,
because the masses of their believers are not yet evolved enough to be
able to build their own bridge. For those who have reached the point in
spiritual manhood where the other worlds are known and are ever present
in consciousness, for them the value of the sacrament is over, and the
reality of the inner life no longer needs the grace that is conveyed by
the sacrament.
Now if you realise the facts I have been putting to you, if you
understand what the sacrament means and what its value is, you will never
speak lightly, contemptuously of it, remembering that those who need it
receive in it a real power, and that those who have gone beyond that
necessity are those who are ever the tenderest to the souls that still
require it, and are careful that with their wisdom they do not bewilder
the ignorant, that they do not lessen the means of grace for those who
are unable to reach knowledge for themselves. And inasmuch as it is the
duty of the members of the Theosophical Society to know these facts of
the different worlds, and to use them for the helping of others, they
have the duty of trying to bring back the realisation of all the immense
value which may be found in these rites which are little understood
by the more skeptical communities to-day. That your mission and your
privilege. Whether in your own religious communities you still find help
or not in these outer veils of spiritual things, that is a comparatively
small matter. As long as they help you, use them to the utmost; and when
you no longer need them, then treat them with the reverence which is due
to them, and explain them to those who do not understand them. Not very,
very long will pass before all and much more than I am saying to you will
become common knowledge in the Churches. Yours the privilege of knowing
a little sooner than the outside world; not because you are specially
favoured, but in order that you may carry knowledge to the outside world.
For every one of you ought to lead the sacramental life, and that means
that you shall be a channel by which the spiritual forces shall pour
down and spread through you to those who surround you, vivifying and
spiritualising the world. That your privilege, from the knowledge that
has come to you; that your duty, for knowledge brings responsibility. And
just in proportion as you understand the occult truths out of which the
esoteric religions have sprung, so will you try to make those religions
deeper, more vital, more spiritualising to all that belong to them, so
that you may truly act as servants of religion, for such servants every
lover of the Divine Wisdom should be.
Lecture V
Address on White Lotus Day 1909
All over the world to-day the sun in rising has seen in country after
country men and women gathering together to bear in memory those who have
passed onward through the gate of death, but who, in passing through the
gate, have remained even more living than they were when they carried the
burden of the flesh; men and women who have left their names behind them
as workers for the Ancient Wisdom in its modern dress, and whose memories
remain dear and precious because of the work they did, because of the
message they spread.
We have listened this evening to verses from the _Bhagavad-Gītā_, to
lines from _The Light of Asia_. In India, on the early morning of to-day,
words were read from that same sacred Scripture of the eastern land,
spoken there in its ancient tongue, the Sanskrit. In town after town,
village after village, the memory of those same lives is kept in mind.
There also _The Light of Asia_ has been read, and the sacred memory of
the Buddha has been recalled. And all over India, from the Northern
Himalayas down to the South, thousands of the poor have been fed by the
branches of our Society in memory of those who lived, of those who
passed away, some of whom have come back to earth again. And as the sun
came onwards along its western path, it lighted up other countries also,
which kept the same memory, used the same books, spoke the same names,
and so across Italy, and Russia, and Germany, and then in France, and now
here, and a few hours hence across the Atlantic, in America, the same
memories will be recalled, the same books will be read, the same thoughts
will be spoken and will spread from heart to heart. For all round the
globe this day is kept sacred in memory of those who died, as men say,
amongst us, but who live to carry on the mighty work that here they took
up for the brief day of mortal life. And we think of our dead, our truly
living, not with sorrow, not with mourning, but with glad hearts and
thankful lips, for we know that death is nothing but a passing from one
world to another, a dropping of one body for the more effective wearing
of a subtler, finer, more powerful one than that which, outworn, is cast
away. For we have learned, and some of us know practically, that that is
true which is written in that same Eastern Scripture of which we heard
some verses to-day, that the Dweller in the body throws aside the outworn
body as a man throws aside garments outworn; and as the man takes new
garments for his wearing, so does the Dweller in the body take new bodies
for his wearing, for new days of a never-ending, an immortal life.
And we think of those who have gone onward to-day—not only of our
greatest, but of all who have worked and striven for the same great
cause. And perhaps it is fitting that first in that great roll we should
send message of love to the one who has left us last, who laboured
so long and so faithfully in France—Dr. Pascal—the General Secretary
there, who only a few weeks since passed to the rest so well deserved.
A weary time had he in the passing; years of weakness, of suffering, of
ever-decreasing strength. And many ask, when they see so long an illness
and so much of pain, when they see a life that was bright and helpful and
full of service set to this world in so long a twilight of sadness and
suffering, sometimes they ask: “Why should one who served so well have so
long and so sad a passing to the other side?” But people do not always
understand that, when a man has worked well and done good service, ere he
goes to his rest for a little time on the other side, it is well for him
to pay the debts incurred, which otherwise would hamper the new life when
it comes back to earth; and that there can be no better karma—sad as it
may seem to the outward sight—than when these ties of the past are fully
paid before the day of passing comes, so that the new birth is unshadowed
by the shadows of the past, and debt is paid which otherwise would be
demanded when the new life is born. So that in a life like that, which
has ended sadly, as men say, with body failing and brain failing, looking
at that with seeing eyes we see the preparing for a better birth, a
greater service, and we know that it is well that the debt was paid, and
that the new life shall come unencumbered with the sad heritage of the
past. And so to our friend to-night we send messages of love and gladness
that the debt is paid, thankfulness that he has passed over, so that he
may come back again to work under conditions fairer, nobler, more full of
promise than those in which he worked so bravely and so nobly through the
life that now has closed.
And as we look back we see the faces of many friends, all of whom we
commemorate—some of our own country, some of other lands, some near at
hand, and some far off, who have passed to the other side in order that
they may return. For you remember that it is written: “Certain is death
to the born, and certain is birth to the dead.” And those who have passed
onward are some of them turning their faces earthward once again, because
the times demand fresh workers, and much is to be done in the years that
are dawning upon us.
And one man stands out strongly in the minds of all, our President, the
President-Founder, who passed away only two brief years since, and who
is residing in his Master’s home, but not altogether resting as men call
rest, inasmuch as he is ever eagerly working for the Movement he loved
and loves, and longing for the day when he shall be permitted to take
again a body to do once more the work to which for many lives he has been
devoted.
And there rises the greatest name of all, H. P. Blavatsky, the name of
her who threw down the body she was wearing on this 8th of May, which,
for her dear sake, was chosen as the day of commemoration of all our
workers who have passed onward—her name dearest and nearest to our
hearts, the Messenger of the Lodge, she who was chosen to bring back
to a world in darkness the light which she carried so bravely and
unflinchingly through a life of suffering and toil. And strange is her
recompense, that she, round whom so many quarrels arose, she who was a
sign of storm and dispute through the warrior life that she led, she
who saw the Society well-nigh crumble round her in those days of the
Coulomb plot, when all over the world it seemed that Theosophy was doomed
to popular contempt, and deserted by most who at one time had welcomed
it; she who, wherever she went, met storm and trouble, who perhaps was
more loved and more hated than anyone of our own time, she has now the
recompense that hers is the one name which is everywhere beloved through
the great Society of which she and her colleague were the founders, and
also among those who have gone out of it through the past years, those
who left it in the Judge secession, those who have gone out since;
hers is the one name that unifies, to whom all look back as teacher
and as friend. And a great and a beautiful lesson grows out of that,
that although life separates, death unifies; and those who in life went
away, as it seemed, from the movement that she made, look back to her
as founder, and round her name, among the prominent people inside and
outside the Society, there runs to-day absolute unanimity, and a peace
without one ripple of dissent.
And to me that seems a very beautiful thing, that the name that was the
name of strife and of combat has become the one name which is recognised
as the foundation of the Movement everywhere, no matter by what passing
changes that Movement may have been affected. And it carries with it a
valuable lesson. These changes that we think so much of do not matter;
all the storms and troubles are of no account; on this great advancing
tide of truth and light, it matters not what apparent storms may come,
what rocks may be in the way, what angry waves may rise and break,
what feelings may be expressed—the whole of it vanishes in the face of
the great unifier, Death; and those who were rent asunder because they
thought more of personalities than of principles, they catch sight again
of the principle when death has smoothed away the difficulties of the
persons over whom they quarrelled. And so, looking back to her to-day, we
can see in her life and death a presage of the future. None of the storms
matter, and none of the secessions and divisions count in the great work.
They are all mere trivial incidents of passing days, and the one great
Life rolls on, only the richer for the divergence, only the fuller for
the differences which it catches up and blends into one.
And on this day, looking backward to those who have gone through death’s
portal, shall we not also look forward to those who are coming back
through birth’s portal to work in the Movement in the future as they
worked in the Movement in the past? How far has it struck you, during the
days of storm and stress through which you have been passing, that to
those who believe in Reincarnation and Karma there is no possibility of
real separation, no possibility of lasting discord? For those who went
far away apparently from the Movement, or who left it by the gateway
of death, see on the other side the fundamental unity, even though on
this side, for a while, they may have been blinded by the superficial
differences, and join together in the work from which, on this side
perhaps, for the moment, they had let themselves slip away for some
trivial discord, some passing divergence of opinion. Take that great man
amongst us round whom raged the last great struggle, the one before the
struggle which is now nearing its close—W. Q. Judge—one of the greatest
and noblest workers in our Movement, even though in the last days of
his life he made the great rent in the Theosophical Society which cost
us for the time pretty well the whole Society in America. He again,
winning clearer vision on the other side after something of difficulty
and something of struggle (for the man was strong, and was not easy
to move or change even when the physical body had been cast away), he
after a while worked his way through the mistake that had been made, and
has again thrown his life force, his enormous energy into the Movement
of which the outer partial manifestation here is the Theosophical
Society, and into that Theosophical Society also. For remember that the
Theosophical Society is only the partial manifestation of that great
stream of Life which is flowing in the other worlds, and of which some
appears here. This great Theosophical stream is like one of those rivers
which flows underground, and then bubbles up above the ground so that
all can see. And the river of the Ancient Wisdom, with its source in
the Great Lodge of the Masters, is out of sight for the greater part of
its course, in worlds greater and higher than this, and then comes up
above the earthly surface and shows itself partially in what we call
the Theosophical Society; and into that River of Ages lives which have
passed onward throw their energy from the other worlds, so that they are
working in the same Movement and strengthening the same current, and are
not apart from us, but with us all the time.
And then there are some others to whose return amongst us we have the
right to look forward. One whom I may remind you of, who has not passed
through death’s gateway, although out of sight for so long, is that
faithful chelā of H. P. Blavatsky—Damodar—who left India after the great
Coulomb struggle, went up into the Himālayan region, and found his way to
his Master’s home near far-off Shigatze. He has been living and working
there ever since, and is now a man of middle age, but his return ere
very long we may without fear look forward to. He will come back to us
with all the gained knowledge that he has won during these many years’
training in the presence of the Teachers Themselves; he has already shown
himself in India, not physically, but preparing to come back when the
Movement is ready for his work, and the getting ready of it is the work
which we have to do in the few years in front. For ere many years have
gone we may look for his coming as a leader and teacher amongst us.
And of those who passed through death’s gateway some have already come
back, H. P. Blavatsky amongst them; so that in the years that come many
of you will see that strong life again manifested amongst us to take
share in the working of the Society, for which he is working now as ever
before. Remember how a Master said of him: “The brother whom you know as
H. P. Blavatsky, but we—otherwise.” One who was spoken of in such words
by the Master M. does not leave the work to which he has put his hand
because the worn-out body was thrown aside for the time—the brother whom
we know as H. P. Blavatsky, but They otherwise, the great and strong
disciple will again come amongst us to work more powerfully than in the
woman’s body that last time he wore. And others, too, who worked with
him in the earlier days—Subba Rao, whose name many yet know; he is now a
lad of nearly fifteen, in the Indian body once more, born in fact in the
same family (using the word “family” in the wider Indian sense), a lad of
fifteen, very soon to be ready again to take up his work.
And there are others, less well known, who have been reborn, and who are
preparing to take part in the great forward movement which is so soon
to begin. But before that work could begin it was necessary to have the
shaking through which we have been passing during the last three years.
I have told you often that from time to time these shakings recur, and
are necessary before a great time of onward progress. Few of you probably
will remember the progress that was made after the Coulomb trouble, but
many of you will remember the spring forward which the Society took after
the American secession. History repeats itself in small cycles as well as
in large ones, and before the great forward movement could take place it
was necessary that the shaking should occur once more, to shake out for
the moment those who were not ready to go forward.
What is the great difficulty before the world? When those who know more
and are able to teach are to come forward and live among the men and
women of the time, and bring to them the treasures they have harvested
of the Wisdom of the ancient days, the one thing that stands in the way
of their reception is the spirit which is not able to recognise greatness
when it sees it, but meets it with suspicion, doubt, slander, calumny;
which ever supplies evil motives where there is no understanding of
the reasons for action, and so paralyses those who know, and builds up
barriers which even they cannot overstep. You saw it in the life of H.
P. Blavatsky. Look back to that life of hers; see how her efforts, her
endeavours to teach and spread the Wisdom, the message with which she
was charged, were everywhere frustrated. And that has been so now for
very many centuries. When the greatest of all Teachers came, that mighty
Teacher whom in the East we call the Bodhisattva, whom in the West we
call the Christ, when He came—mightiest of spiritual Teachers, the very
spirit of Wisdom and love incarnate—He could not live three years in this
world ere He became so insupportable to the people of His day that they
slew Him, while His love for the Father was denounced as blasphemy, His
teaching denounced as coming from the devil. And that same spirit has
been seen ever since. The great teachers have ever been met with the same
spirit, and we have to change it. The chief mission of the Society at the
moment is to prepare the way of the Lord, and the only preparation that
can be made is to substitute reverence for greatness instead of suspicion
and hatred. And because that is the immediate work which lies before
us, it was necessary to shake out of the Society those whose spirit was
rather suspicion of greatness than acceptance of it when seen. For the
immediate work is the preparing of the world for the coming of greater
Ones, in order that the new impulse may be given when the new sub-race
and Root Race are to be born.
That is the immediate work, the preparation for the coming of some
of those whom I have been mentioning—Damodar, Subba Rao, H. P.
Blavatsky—not, remember, with flourish of trumpets, or with anyone
declaring “this is so-and-so” and “this is someone else,” with the
exception, perhaps, of the first named (Damodar), who went as a boy to
his Master, and is now middle-aged, but will be recognised by old Indian
friends. But others will be coming in new bodies, unknown, with no proof
of who they are. They will have to make their way, they will have to
prove their apostolate, and probably their views of things will be very
different from the views of many of those in the Theosophical Society.
Inevitably so; for people whose eyes are opened to more than one world
cannot see things, as those see them whose eyes are blind save to one;
those who see the wider horizon will have different thoughts from those
who are cabined in by the life and conventions of their day. And that is
why the great Ones are always misunderstood, for They must be other than
those to whom They come, else how could They teach? And that is where
your General Secretary spoke very truly in saying that the mind often
misleads, and the things we “think” cover over the things we “know.” Now
the things you know, you know by the light of the Spirit which is within
you; by that intuition which is the voice of the pure, not the impure
reason, speaking above the mind and through the mind, but very often in
contradiction to the mind. And in order to hear that voice of intuition,
so far as I know, there is only one way, that when once you see the Light
shine out through any human being, you hold to that human being, no
matter what the mind may say. That is what spells success, and that was
pre-eminently the case with H. P. Blavatsky, for anyone more confusing
to the ordinary mind you could not possibly come across—awkward, athwart
one’s conventions in every way; in speech, manner, actions, the very
reverse of all that you would expect. When I first met her and saw in her
the power of the Master, from that day to this I have never challenged
and never doubted her. And very, very largely because of that have come
the knowledge and power that I have won not by reasoning and arguing—“Was
she right or wrong?” “Would it not have been better if she had been
different from what she was?”—but having once seen in her the Light of
Truth, refusing to see anything else except the Messenger of the Master.
And that is what you need in the coming days, that is what some of you
have been winning through the storms of the last three years—to realise
that when once you have known a teacher to be a teacher you shall cling
to that knowledge, no matter what clouds for a time surround, no matter
what storms for a time may hide; for that means intuition, which is above
the concrete mind; it means the testimony of the God within you to the
God without you, and that cannot lie. And we have to spread that through
the whole Society in order to make the way possible for those who will
be coming amongst us during the next few years, and the greater Ones who
will come later if we can welcome the Messengers, but not otherwise. Our
years of mortal life are not those by which time is reckoned in the great
cycles of the occult world. It is true that we say: “Probably between
thirty and forty years hence a great Teacher will come back, the greatest
Teacher, the Teacher of Gods and men.” But a date like that, which is
counted by the revolutions of the world, is always a doubtful thing from
the occult standpoint; for time there is measured by consciousness, and
not by the turning of the sun. Efforts may shorten or failure may retard
the date, and hence it is always rather vaguely put; and if, when these
less great ones came we were not able to receive them, if we are repelled
by the superficial appearance and have not the intuition to recognise the
Messengers, that will inevitably delay the coming of the greater Ones.
At different times different virtues are wanted. To know the virtue of
the time and to develop it, that is wisdom. At one time courage is the
great thing wanted; at another time recognition of spiritual greatness,
and the power to hold to it, and that is the virtue wanted now. Not in
order that you and I as individuals may take part in this great work, but
in order that the world may be prepared, that the way of the Lord may be
made straight, so that He may come. For He cannot come to be a curse to
the world instead of a blessing, as He would be if the world were wholly
unprepared. And so greater and greater Ones will be coming in order that
the greatest of all may be welcomed when He appears amongst us.
Some of you think, but you think mistakenly, that you would recognise,
say, a Master, or even a Christ, if He appeared. Are you so sure? They
never have been recognised by the people of their time save by a small
minority, and why should we be different? The Christ was not recognised
when He came last; His Messengers have not been recognised since, save
by a minority. They are so different from the people of their time that
there is much to get over before you can recognise them. And it is a
good practice sometimes to throw yourself back to those days in Judea
when the Son of Man trod the earth. Realise what He would have seemed to
you then, not what he seems to you now through the vista of centuries
of the adoration of millions of men. What would he have seemed as the
vagabond travelling about on foot, with a number of half-educated
people round Him, disturbing the peace of society, antagonistic to the
respectabilities of His day, looked down upon by the aristocracy of
the time? See Him as they saw Him, and ask yourself: “Should I have
recognised the Christ?” And that is where the test has been, right
through these last three years, and where it will be as the people I
have been speaking of gradually come amongst us again. If you would
recognise them when they come, try to cultivate the power which answers
to greatness without, by cultivating greatness within, remembering that
spiritual recognition is the recognition of all those who are kindred to
yourself. If you have the virtue in you of the spiritual man you will
know spiritual men when you meet them; but if you cannot answer to Him,
then He will pass you by unknown, and probably disliked.
Now our work is clear before us: to try to change the public opinion of
the world into the attitude which is sometimes called disparagingly
hero-worship, which is essentially the thing we need at the present
time—the power to know the hero when we see him. “No man is a hero,”
it is said, “to his valet.” And people think that that means that he
is small when seen close by. Not so; but that the small soul which is
typified by the word “valet” cannot appreciate the greatness of the hero
near whom he stands. The servant soul does not recognise the greatness
of the hero, and therefore the hero is no hero to him. Only the heroic
recognises the hero; and if you can develop that in yourself which is
like a Master, then, and then alone, will you know a Master when He
comes. And the best way to cultivate it is for a time to let go that
spirit of criticism which makes people so superior to those around them.
Cultivate the faculty of admiration rather than that of criticism.
Try, when you meet a person or when you read a book, to see the good
things in the book or person, and not the faults. And the faults in the
people around you, these are no business of yours; and if you would once
understand that and live it, your path would be so much easier. So many
of you are so anxious to get other people out of their faults that you
really have no time to look after your own steps and put them in the
right way. The faults of the other people will work out through karma,
and they are not your business—a hard but true lesson. Of course, if
you are a master or a teacher, and have others in your charge, their
faults are then yours to correct; but you are not, generally speaking,
masters or guardians, and you have no responsibility to criticise or put
others right. Take out of your friends the value of the good and let
the faults go. You need not say they are virtues, you need not pretend
that you think wrong right; but you can say: “That part of the man is not
my business; let me help the God in him to manifest, and let the other
side in him wear out in its own way.” If you can do that you will be
more useful now than in any other spirit, and it is that lesson I would
ask you to take with you. Think of H. P. Blavatsky and of those who have
passed away in the spirit that they helped us, and not in the spirit that
would blind our eyes to their value, and then carry that spirit on to the
people around you, and in every one round you try to see the God, and
let the rest go. Admire the admirable, and leave aside the regrettable;
for in doing it you will help them more to conquer their faults than by
criticism.
Seeing the God in them, and loving and trusting, that will help them
to grow out of the limitations, of the blunders and errors that are
hindering the divine manifestation. And remember that is what is wanted
now, not for yourselves only but for every one around you, so that when
the Teachers come They may be able to remain in the world amongst us.
They dare not come yet, because even in the Theosophical Society They
would not be welcomed. A Master who came amongst you now would not
for the most part be very much liked by you; His ways, His views, His
thoughts would be so different, He would raise suspicion and dislike.
We saw it in the earlier days when They came out more, and were met by
judgment and criticism, until one of Them said, in the fashion in which
They look at ignorant criticism; “The standard of the Adept is not kept
at Simla, it is kept at Shamballah and I try to accommodate myself to
that.” There is a great lesson in that for all of us. The standard of
those who are passing onward into the higher life is not the standard of
the judgment of the people around them, but the standard that the Masters
hold up before them, to which they are ever trying to conform. Think of
that in your attitude to the people around you; remember that on you,
and on people like you everywhere, depends the success or the failure of
the next great manifestation of the divine life on the earth; that this
Theosophical Society, spread everywhere over the world, is literally the
John the Baptist to prepare the way for the coming of the Christ; to fill
that part is your work and duty—and need I say, your privilege, your
highest honour?
To leave the Society now, in the days which are just dawning, surely it
is bad karma enough, and you should only feel the tenderest thoughts of
pity towards any who go out from us in the days when to belong to the
movement is the greatest crown that can be given for any nobility of
past life that any one of us may have had. No words of harshness or of
condemnation, nothing that will make it harder for them to return, but
everywhere gentlest and most tolerant speech—this is our duty to our
immediate brethren; and to the world what I have told you.
And so from this White Lotus Day look forward more than backward,
rather to the work that is coming than to the difficulties that are now
well-nigh over. Remember, for your strengthening, that the only great
shaking has been here and in America, nowhere else. You can count on your
fingers practically in other countries those who have been shaken out.
You have had the struggle and have come out well. It is practically over
now. There may be some slight effort made now to make things difficult,
but what does it matter, with such hopes before us, with such strength
behind us, with such knowledge within us? Why should we allow ourselves
to be ruffled by anything that can take place in this outer world of
men? We have been through many such struggles in past lives, shall have
to go through many greater ones in lives to come; why make too much
of present-day trouble? Those whose lives are in eternity need not be
troubled with even what seem to be great difficulties to the men and
women of the world. And so to you I would say: Gather together on the
Day of Memory, but turn it now more into day of looking forward. Let the
past go; it has done its work, it is over. Turn your eyes to the work
that is opening before us, more splendid than any work of the past. And
remember it is not the Messengers who may stand in front who are the
strength of the Society, but that the life comes from the Masters and the
strength from the Lodge. Knowing that, you need not mind even if those
of us who are well known in the world make mistakes, are attacked, or
evil spoken of. Never yet a Messenger of the Lodge that went through life
without being evil spoken of, and you need not grudge us the sign of our
apostolate; for such has ever been the sign of the Messengers through
all ages. Rather rejoice with us that the stress for the time is over,
and the days of going forward are upon us; do not let the remnant of the
trouble shake any one of you, but know that the Masters are with us, and
where they are no failure can come.
Lecture VI
The Nature of the Christ
Delivered to the Christo-Theosophical Society, at the invitation of Sir
Richard and Lady Stapley, Tuesday, May 25, 1909.
It is with pleasure that I find myself amongst you, as I have often found
myself before. I think my membership in the Theosophical Society is of
about the same length as the life of your Society. We both began our
careers, so to speak, about the same time, in the same year.
The subject that I have taken is in many ways a difficult one, and one
that may very naturally arouse differences of feeling. It is, however,
one which is being discussed very much in the Christian Church at the
present time, and it is for that reason that it seemed to me that it
might be useful if we could exchange thoughts on a subject of enormous
importance. I also want to make certain suggestions which I think may
be welcomed in regard to an idea to be found in the East, which perhaps
is not quite familiar over here; and which presages a unity greater and
profounder than could be reached, I think, in any other way. Naturally,
I am putting only my own views, and they commit no one but myself. These
questions that touch alike the intellect and the heart must always be
treated reverently by those who realise the Brotherhood of man, and they
are also ideas of the profoundest importance with regard to the future of
religion and of civilisation.
In the _Hibbert Journal_ of January last the subject that I have taken
for our talk was to some extent discussed from the standpoint of one who
I suppose would be called an extremely liberal Christian. The writer is
the Rev. R. Roberts, Congregational minister, of Bradford; his name is
still in the Congregational Year-book, but I heard that he was not at
present ministering in any pulpit. I take his view as my starting-point
this afternoon. The title of his article is at first sight a little
startling from the ordinary Christian standpoint, “Jesus or Christ?”
and he distinctly puts forward the view, and argues for it with a good
deal of ability, that we have to do at once with one supposed to be a
historical person, and then apparently with what he could only regard as
a Mystical Ideal.
So far as I can gather from what he says, he does not regard the Christ
as historical, though he does not very clearly draw the line as to how
he would separate, historically, the Jesus of the Gospels from that
Ideal which he names “The Christ.” He says that he and many other people
find themselves beset by certain difficulties: “Are the claims to be
presently set forth made on behalf of a spiritual ‘Ideal’ to which we may
provisionally apply the word ‘Christ,’ or are they predicated of Jesus?”
Then he goes on to say that insistence on limitations of knowledge,
restrictions of outlook, evasions of issues, and disillusionments of
experience, true enough of a historic Jesus, may not be wholly relevant
to a spiritual “Christ Ideal,” expanding and enriching through the ages
into “the Christ that is to be.” Then he says it would be still less
applicable to one who is regarded as the “fulness of Godhead,” “Very God
of very God.” That, practically, is his thesis, and he tries to show in
this article that very many difficulties might be avoided if Christians
were willing to recognise a Christ Ideal side by side with the historical
Jesus. In that way they might evade some of the difficulties which are
pressed against the conception of Jesus as the Christ by large numbers
of people who find their faith challenged and themselves in difficulties
by these objections which are put to them both inside and outside the
Church. He quotes Dr. Fairbairn, writing on _Christ in Modern Theology_.
“If He knows as God while He speaks as man, then His speech is not
true to His knowledge, and within Him a bewildering struggle must ever
proceed to speak as He seems and not as He is. If He had such knowledge,
how could He remain silent as He faced human ignorance, and saw reason
wearied with the burden of all its unintelligible mysteries? If men could
believe that once there lived on this earth One who had all the knowledge
of God, yet declined to turn any part of it into science for man, would
they not feel their faith in His goodness taxed beyond endurance?” That
view (which appears to be adopted by Mr. Roberts) does not seem to me
necessarily at all a sound one, and it is by no means certain that a man
speaking in a particular age to people among whom great limitations of
knowledge existed, and with a particular object before Him—not to enlarge
the bounds of science, but to deepen spirituality and lay a strong
foundation of morals—that such a Teacher, however highly illuminated,
however much speaking as the very Spirit of God, would say all that He
knew with regard to external facts and external phenomena, with the
certainty of making very difficult the reception of His message on
points enormously important—on points, in fact, of vital and essential
need for the higher spiritual progress of man. Hence it does not appear
to me that Dr. Fairbairn’s issue is at all well taken. Every great
teacher—not for the moment considering the special divinity of Christ or
Jesus—who is speaking to people less instructed than himself is under a
similar difficulty. If on matters of ordinary scientific knowledge he is
illuminated where they are not, the very fact that he presses that upon
them would bewilder and confuse. You cannot enable the human intellect
to evolve at what might be called a supernatural rate. It is capable of
growth, and often of rapid growth, but if you try to force it beyond the
rapid natural growth, you will only perplex, bewilder, and confuse; and
if your aim is not, broadly, to increase scientific knowledge, which
man will inevitably find out for himself after a time, but to help him
to the things which need spiritual illumination in order that he may
receive them, then such a difficulty as is put here as to the inner
bewilderment which would be felt by the speaker to speak as he seems, and
not as he is, would not be bewilderment at all, but a quite deliberate
limitation of what he said, with a view to the effectiveness of his work,
and that which he desired to give to the people of his time. That is
true necessarily of every great prophet, of every highly inspired man;
and the greatness of the inspiration would chiefly be shown, not in the
amount of physical knowledge which he might give, but rather in his
avoidance of certain difficulties which, when the race grew more learned,
might come in their way and complete their ideas. That is to say, he
would evade the scientific difficulty as far as he possibly could, and
would do it deliberately, knowing that that was not his particular
work, and that he could not do his own work if he turned aside in this
direction. So that, as far as I am personally concerned, looking on this
from the standpoint of the Theosophist and Occultist, these difficulties
to me do not exist. I realise that they must always be found where one
who is superhuman—I object to the word supernatural—comes in any age of
the world’s history in order to teach a new conception of religion, and
in order to adapt what he is giving to the civilisation which he intends
to influence.
It appears to me that it is a perfectly rational and necessary thing
that the growth of knowledge from the ordinary standpoint should be
left to work its way out along the lines of intellectual development;
anything less than that will check intellectual growth inevitably, for
intellectual growth can only come about by the freest of thought, the
freest of discussion, the most absolute liberty to challenge everything
and to controvert anything which appears to be illogical. The condition
of intellectual growth is that of complete freedom, and any sort of
limitation which is put upon it by the knowledge of a great teacher
will only check that intellectual evolution which is essential for the
future growth of man. Many similar difficulties, of course, are made
with regard to all inspired Scriptures, and for that reason it seems to
me that it is well that we distinguish definitely between the spiritual
work of the spiritual teacher and the scientific investigation of the
scientific student; that it should be realised that these two departments
of human activity work under different laws to a very great extent, and
that that which is spiritually known cannot always be justified to the
intellect until that intellect becomes spiritually enlightened—that
is, that you have to deal in man with a being who is fundamentally a
spiritual being, in whom the divine Spirit becomes incarnate, embodied,
but in whom that divine Spirit is going to unfold along three great
lines of unfoldment which we find in all human consciousness, which we
recognise as in the divine nature itself. It has to unfold to an ordered
Activity which should be truly in harmony with the laws of nature, which
are the expression of the divine nature in this manifested form. It has
to unfold along the Intellectual line, and that unfoldment must be left
utterly unfettered. It has also to evolve along that line which in its
lowest stages is emotion, in its higher stages is religion; and that
spiritual unfolding, the highest characteristic of Spirit showing itself
out as Will, has to be developed from above more than from below, to come
downward by illumination more than to climb upward by reasoning. Unless
we can understand this complicated nature of man in whom divinity is
gradually unfolding and mastering matter at every stage of its unfolding,
mastering, purifying it, ultimately spiritualising it; in all its
earlier stages limited by the matter that it has yet failed to master,
gradually making it plastic and ductile, and then in its higher stages
having utterly subdued it to its own purposes—unless we can understand
that that is a rough outline of human evolution, we shall constantly
find ourselves in difficulties between the intellectual growth and the
spiritual unfolding. Hence whenever a man comes to earth in whom divinity
is far more manifestly unfolded than in his fellow-men, he can only shed
down upon them illumination from the spiritual region, stimulate their
aims, but not control their intellect. If that be realised, then the
whole of these difficulties, which are being made at the present time
about the obvious limitations outwardly of the knowledge of the supreme
Christian Teacher, will entirely fall out of court, and you will see that
He was speaking to the people of His day in the way that He could best
affect them in order to help forward their evolution from the standpoint
where they were, and was not the least intent on showing out His enormous
knowledge, which would only have crushed rather than assisted.
Suppose for the moment you can take that way of looking at human
evolution—and it seems to me the most rational way of looking at it—then
we come to deal with this special manifestation of the Teacher who was
the Founder of Christianity, a Hebrew speaking to Hebrews, and having
to reconcile the speaking to the people of His day with the speaking to
people of generations after generations, through centuries and perhaps
millennia to come, then we should be perfectly able to realise that we
are here face to face with one of those supreme divine manifestations,
and that in studying it we must be ready to separate between the Teacher
of religion and the man speaking to the men of His day, and accepting
their limitations in order that He might reach them effectively. I
want to carry you very much further than that in what I say; all that
might very well be accepted by any rational and intelligent Christian,
especially if he finds himself able to realise that what is said of the
divinity of Jesus is true at a very much lower level of all His brethren,
that all men are fundamentally and essentially divine; that that which
was said by the great teacher S. Paul: “Know ye not that your body is
the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” and that
which was answered by Jesus Himself, when he was challenged for calling
Himself the Son of God: “Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are
Gods, and ye are all the children of the Highest?” is literally true. If
you realise all that is implied in that statement, that He is the first
among many brethren, you will see that every Son of Man is potentially,
and will hereafter be actually, a Son of God, meaning by that that Deity
will unfold within him, and that a manifestly divine humanity is the
natural goal of evolution.
One realises, in looking at an article like this, that by the mystic
Christ—that is what the writer means—he means that in the Epistles a
somewhat different view is taken from that of the Gospels, the one
dealing specially with an historical person, the other with an indwelling
Spirit. He realises that when the Apostle Paul declares to his converts
that he is travailing in birth for them until Christ be formed in them,
when he says in another passage that they are to develop to the measure
of the stature of the fulness of Christ, he is holding up before them
a picture of the birth in the soul of this divine Spirit that he spoke
of as Christ, and the gradual unfolding of that into the perfection of
divine manhood. That is perhaps the most inspiring ideal that can well be
put before Christian people, that not only outside them but within them,
not only as an outer helper but as an indwelling Spirit, this idea of
the Christ is to be realised, and that that unfolding of the Christ in
man is a real fact in religious consciousness, making that highest stage
of human evolution when the man becomes perfect, and there only remains
before him the superhuman evolution after the human is finished.
But I want to put to you rather a different idea of this relation between
Jesus and Christ. I recognise to the full the value of that mystic ideal,
I have not one word to say against it; in fact it is one that, when I am
speaking to Christians, I constantly proclaim—the absolute necessity of
that indwelling presence. But there is another view of this great Being
which may be less familiar to you, which is the view taken by those who
are sometimes called Occultists, in a very special sense of the term.
Let me put it to you quite baldly for the moment, and then work it out
a little more. The view that we take of that great Teacher who came to
the world some two thousand years ago is, that the child who was born
and who grew up into manhood until the time of the Baptism was a man
of marvellous purity, of extraordinary spiritual intuition, but a man
that we should call a disciple; that it was his to train and guard that
pure body in preparation for the incoming of the indwelling Christ, and
that in the Gospel story it is the event of the Baptism which marks the
coming of the Christ. Let me just recall the words to you for a moment:
“When Jesus went down into the water, the heavens opened, and the Spirit
of God came down upon Him like a dove, and abode upon Him. And a voice
was heard from heaven saying, ‘This is my beloved Son; hear ye Him.’”
Now it is clear that that event, marked out so distinctly in the Gospel
story, must connote something of enormous importance. There was no need,
as it were, for Him who was to be the Teacher to be baptised, and to
receive the downcoming Spirit of the Most High, unless in that there was
hid some profound spiritual truth, unless something was there afterward
that was not there before; and it is _then_, from the occult point of
view, that the _Jesus_ became the _Christ_. But let me put it to you even
a little more closely. Here, of course, is where the point of difference
will probably arise in the minds of many in regard to what I am saying,
for all might be willing to recognise that that might imply a great
downflow of spiritual energy, of divine life. From our standpoint Jesus
the Hebrew, the individual, the spiritual man, stepped out of the body
that he had been dwelling in through all those years and preparing for
the coming of his Lord, giving it over as a holy temple for the incoming
of the supreme Teacher, so that the body became the habitation of the
supreme Teacher for the three years of the ministry. Now that view, as
many of you who have studied Christian history will know, was very widely
held in the early Church; although it was condemned later as the Gnostic
heresy, none the less it was quite orthodox until its formal condemnation
within the Catholic Church, until the time that it was expelled. You
find it in many of the early writings of the learned Christian teachers,
you find it warred against by some others of the Christian teachers and
doctors and bishops of the time, but none the less it was a view which
had very wide prevalence in the early Church; it was accepted by large
numbers of profoundly learned men; and although ultimately condemned as
a heresy in the forms in which it was put, it might none the less not be
improbable, even from the standpoint of the orthodox, that some truth was
hidden in it in the broad sense, even if the form in which it was put
forward in the Church of those days was justly condemned. My own view is
that they were right, not in all the details of the way in which they put
it, but in the fundamental fact. Let us suppose for a moment that they
were so; then the question would necessarily arise—who is the Christ? And
it is there that, as I said, there was one view that might be unfamiliar
to you in the West, yet which, it seems to me, should be to the Christian
a view full of beauty and full of hope for the future. There is only one
Supreme Teacher of mankind. There is a great office above all those whom
we Theosophists speak of as Masters—a Master of Masters, so to speak—the
one Supreme Teacher. In Christendom you speak of him by the Greek name, a
name which, as you know, was taken from the Grecian mysteries, of which
a particular grade of initiation bore the name of the Christos, and the
Adept who reached that grade was spoken of as the Christos. That was the
name which was adopted in the early Church, according to the account in
the Acts, to designate this great Teacher who had come to the world, and
we should say, rightly adopted. It is an instance of spiritual insight
recognising a great truth.
But now, supposing I ask you to go to the people of other religions for a
moment, the ancient religions that we find in the eastern world. Suppose
I ask a member of the most ancient of those, the Hindū faith: “Do you
recognise in your religion one supreme World-Teacher above all religions,
and not belonging to one exclusively—a universal Teacher?”—he would say,
“of Gods and men”; over here you would say, “of Angels and men,” because
the word there, Deva, is equivalent to your word Angel. He would at once
say: “Why, yes; of course we recognise one Supreme Teacher at the head
of all spiritual life and impulse, and we call him (pardon me if I use
for the moment their name) the Jagat-Guru—the World-Teacher.” Supposing
I went to another great religion there—the Buddhist—and I asked a member
the same question: “Do you recognise in your religion a Supreme Teacher?”
his answer would at once be, “Why, of course we do. There is only one
who holds the place of Teacher over all Gods and all men; one Teacher
only who is the Teacher of the world. We call Him the Bodhisattva—the
Wisdom-Truth.” No nobler name could be given to Him; He is the Wisdom and
the Truth; not the Buddha, as you may have expected me to say; He was
not the Teacher. When He reached Buddhahood He passed away from earth.
It is while He is going onwards to Buddhahood that He is known by this
name of Wisdom-Truth, or Boddhisattva. During the whole of that period
of teaching He has this name; and then when the supreme illumination
comes to Him his office is finished, and He passes away from earth. Of
course, as we know, the last Buddha remained in his body for some time,
still teaching, but none the less the office of the Teacher is not to the
Buddhist the Buddha, but he who is to be the Buddha—what you would call
the Christ glorified and ascended, not the Christ on earth teaching and
suffering. It is interesting to notice how in the various religions these
same points arise and these same differences are seen under different
names, so that we see that in these two greatest of eastern religions a
Supreme Teacher is recognised. Now, from the occult standpoint, it is
that Teacher who came as the Christ; and, supposing that all Christian
people recognised that fact, they would reach the hearts of the eastern
world far better than they do now, if, instead of telling them they must
worship the Christ, they would say to them, “You are already worshipping
Him under a different name,” which is supremely true; for it is the same
Being who holds that office through all these thousands of years, the
same supreme Perfection. He only comes into manifestation in order to
help His younger brethren; He leaves that body when its utility for the
moment is over; when, being so great in comparison with the people to
whom He came, they could no longer tolerate His presence.
Now that is the view of the nature of the Christ which you would find
among, say, Occultists or well-instructed Theosophists. They recognise
in the Christ of Christendom the Supreme Teacher of the world, but they
do not admit that He will come only once to the world; they reverence
and honour Him now as still the Supreme World-Teacher, but they do not
identify Him with the great disciple who took the Jewish name as Jesus,
and who is now amongst us as the Master who is the Guide and Helper of
the Christian Church. There is the point where the difference would come
in. The orthodox Christian would claim Him as supreme over all religions,
but he would hardly recognise difference between the disciple who has
become the Master with the special Christian Church in His charge, and
the Supreme Teacher who, while He certainly ever sends His benediction
upon Christianity, sends it also upon the other great religions of
the world. This is where I feel the difference might come in between
myself and many of you. To us the great Master Jesus, who is, as you
would also acknowledge—those of you, at least, who are members of the
Church of England—thus still dwelling in a human body, still embodied
literally, has that power which the Master on the higher planes of being
has, of being spiritually in touch with all who call upon Him, with
all who look to Him for guidance, but none the less still possesses a
physical body. This is a point of enormous importance (although not as
important as spiritual omnipresence), for it means to us, and it means
to many Christians who think with us, and are Theosophists with us, a
possibility of a close and personal relation, as of a disciple to a
Master, which goes somewhat beyond the spiritual communion which every
true Christian has with his great Teacher. How should I put that to
convey exactly what I mean in clear and definite language? I must put
it, I think, by giving a general principle with regard to these great
Beings whom we speak of as Masters, divine men, men made perfect, which
works through the whole of that great Brotherhood. They have many ways
of working in the world; through their own subtle, spiritual bodies
they work, sending out floods of blessing over the whole world; but, in
addition to that spiritual impulse and spiritual blessing which flow
into every heart that opens itself to receive them, with an ever present
and potent power, there is an even closer and more specialised communion
between the Spirit as embodied and those who are still wearing human
bodies themselves, a possibility which the saints have realised of that
personal and individual and specialised communion with their Master where
they saw Him, heard Him; where to them He became, not only a spiritual
presence, but an individualised Teacher, and even Friend; where they
knew themselves as disciples, and knew Him as Master, which is the
great mark, after all, of those who are specifically called the saints.
For that close and intimate and specialised relationship the body is
necessary; and hence, although sceptics have very often challenged that
Article of the Church of England where it says that “He did truly take
again His body, with flesh and bones, and all things appertaining to the
perfection of man’s nature,” it does convey a fundamental and essential
truth: the great Teacher is not only a spiritual Presence, He is a human
though divine Being, who can be specifically and personally known. And
if this latest impulse of Divine Wisdom which we call Theosophy is to be
of use to Christendom, it will be along these lines of gradually winning
Christians back to a conception that has been very largely lost—that
their touch with their Divine Master must be much closer and more
realised in the brain and human heart as contact of disciple and Teacher,
than when they are thinking of Him as Deity, when they are regarding Him
as the second Person in the Trinity. How far that will commend itself
to many of you it is, of course, impossible for me to say; but let the
outline, at least, be clear, so that it may be definitely understood.
It is the conception of a Christ for whom a body was prepared, and
prepared by His own well-loved disciple, who guarded, tended, trained it
through the years of childhood, of youth, and of early manhood; a body
surrendered to the incoming mighty Personage, who is the Supreme Teacher
of the world, incoming at the point marked by the Baptism, worn until
the time of the death, so that through the whole of that teaching, the
ministerial life, it was not Jesus but the Christ who was the Teacher who
founded Christianity. That body is laid aside, but He is still Lord of
all religions, and He gives to His well-beloved disciple who became the
Master Jesus this religion specifically as his charge, his work in the
world. Other religions would have other Masters, but only one Supreme;
others would look to other divine men made perfect, but would recognise
beyond them this Master of Masters; and hence all religions draw together
in the Supreme Teacher, and find there unity in that greatest and
mightiest of all. So that every religion looks up to the one Teacher
through Masters who specifically belong to the various faiths of the
world. That is the view which is very generally held in the Theosophical
Society, although none is bound to accept it, inasmuch as we impose no
dogmas upon anyone; it is the view which is taken by those who have been
most thoroughly instructed in this matter; and it seems to me that it is
one of extreme interest to thoughtful people, even if they do not find
themselves able to accept it.
That is, then, the view of the nature of Christ that I would submit to
you; and if you look at it you will see that the whole of the criticisms
to which I have referred fall to pieces, and no longer need disturb
the hearts or consciences of any; for it would be recognised that you
have here a manifestation of the same great Being, but not a unique
manifestation, who adapts Himself to the needs of His time, gives out
so much of His wisdom and truth as He thinks can be accepted by the
people of His day and generation, but who, in giving it, gives with it
an inspiring Spirit, which enables future generations to find more and
more in that teaching, and as they themselves develop spiritually, to
find ever greater depths in the teaching which had been given by the
Christ. You will see how naturally that view passes on into the future,
and why it is that many of us, believing that a new civilisation is
dawning upon earth, also believe that the same Supreme Teacher will again
be manifested, again to tread the earth as He trod it in Judæa, again to
enlighten the world with spiritual wisdom, again to strike the keynote of
a new civilisation, gathering all the religions of the world under that
supreme teaching of His own, so that we look forward to a coming Christ
as well as backward to a Christ in His last manifestation on the earth.
Lecture VII
The Theosophical Student in face of Revelation, Inspiration, and
Observation
_A Lecture delivered to the British Convention of the Theosophical
Society, July 4th, 1909_
Friends: Those who seriously take up the study of Theosophy should
not be satisfied with the mere reading of the voluminous theosophical
literature poured out into the world through the centuries of the
past, and continuing to flow into it in our own days. They should, in
addition, if they have any innate faculty for such investigation, prepare
to develop the faculties by which they may verify for themselves that
which they are told by others. But in all cases much theoretical study
is desirable before passing on into the practical, and in most cases it
may not be possible to develop the subtler senses within the limits of
the present incarnation, although a good foundation may be laid for such
development in the next. Hence theoretical study must form a large part
of the training of every theosophical student, and his attitude towards
such study is a matter of serious importance. He needs to discriminate
between the books he reads, and to suit his attitude to the type of the
book; he must seek to understand what is meant by Revelation, what by
Inspiration, and to distinguish revealed from inspired literature, and
both from the records of observations.
Some Scriptures which are regarded as authoritative lie at the back of
all the great religions. Thus Hindūism has the Veda. The word means
knowledge, and this knowledge is of that which is eternally true. It is
the knowledge of the Logos, the knowledge of the Lord of a universe;
the knowledge of what _is_, not of what _seems_; the knowledge of
realities, not of phenomena. This abides ever in the Logos; it is part
of Himself. In its manifested form, as revealed for the helping of man,
it becomes the _Vedās_, and in this form goes through many stages, until
finally little of the original remains. All Hindū schools of philosophy
acknowledge the supreme authority of the Vedas; but after this formal
acknowledgment is made, the intellect is allowed to range freely at its
will—to inquire, to judge, to speculate. Rigid as Hindūism is in its
social polity, it has ever left the human intellect free; in philosophy,
in metaphysic, it has ever realised that truth should be sought, and no
penalty inflicted on error; error being sufficiently penalised by the
fact that it _is_ error, and breeds misfortunes under natural laws. Even
to-day that ancient liberty is maintained, and a man may think and write
as he will provided that he follows in practise the social customs of
his caste. The Hindū divides all knowledge into two types—the supreme
and the lower. In the lower he places all his sacred books—following in
this the dictum of an Upanishad[5]—together with all other literature,
all science, all instruction; in the category of the supreme he places
only “the knowledge of Him by whom all else is known.” There you have
Hindūism in a nutshell. When once supreme knowledge has been attained and
illumination has been experienced, all Scriptures become useless. This
is asserted plainly and boldly in a well-known passage in the _Bhagavad
Gītā_: “All the Vedas are as useful to an enlightened Brāhmana as is a
tank in a place covered over with water.”[6] What need of a tank when
water is everywhere? What need of Scriptures when the man is enlightened?
Revelation is useless to the man to whom the Self is revealed.
In the early days of Buddhism the Vedas held high place, for the Lord
Buddha, as Dr. Rhys Davids says, “was born and brought up, and lived and
died a Hindū.”[7] But the charter of intellectual freedom for Buddhists
is contained in the wise advice of their Teacher: “Do not believe in a
thing said merely because it is said; nor in traditions because they have
been handed down from antiquity; nor in rumours, as such; nor in writings
by sages, merely because sages wrote them … nor on the mere authority of
your own teachers or masters. But we are to believe when the writing,
doctrine, or saying is corroborated by our own reason and consciousness.
For this I have taught you: not to believe merely because you have heard;
but when you believed of your own consciousness, then to act accordingly
and abundantly.”[8] Even revelation, for the Buddhist, must be brought to
the touchstone of reason and consciousness; there must be a response to
it from within, the interior witness of the Self, ere it can be accepted
as authoritative.
In the Christian and Muhammadan faiths—both largely influenced by
Judaism—the authoritative nature of revelation is carried further than in
any earlier faith. In modern days the yoke of a revealed Scripture has
been much lightened for Christianity by the growth of the critical spirit
and by the researches of scholars. The modern Christian student is little
more hampered by his revelation than is the Hindū by his. A conventional
reverence is yielded, a lifting of the hat, and then the student goes
freely on his way.
What is Revelation? It is a communication from a Being superior to
humanity of facts known to Himself, but unknown to those to whom He makes
the revelation—facts which they cannot reach by the exercise of the
powers that they have so far evolved. These facts can be verified at any
time by one who has climbed to the level of the Revealer, who may be an
Avatāra, a Rishi, a Founder of a religion. They “speak with authority,”
the authority of knowledge, the one authority to which all sane men
bow. We do not find that these great Beings wrote down Their teachings
Themselves; They taught, but They did not record. Some follower, some
disciple, it may be after the lapse of many years, even of centuries,
wrote down what he or his forefathers had heard; hence the revelation—and
to this rule there is probably no exception—is inevitably to some extent
coloured, narrowed, distorted by the transcriber. That which was heard
originally by those round the divine Teacher exists indeed in the
ākāshic records, and may ever be recovered thence by those who have
developed the inner senses by which those records may be read. In many
cases true records will have been made at the time by highly qualified
persons; but such precious books are kept securely in the custody of
their chosen guardians, in secret temples, in rock libraries, available
for the study of high Occultists, but of none other.
The Muhammadans would claim that in the case of their sacred book there
is more certainty that the very words of their Prophet were preserved.
And doubtless to this is due the overwhelming authority of _Al Qurān_ in
the minds of the faithful of Islām.
What should be the attitude of the Theosophical Student towards
revelation? He should treat the Scriptures of the world with reverence,
remembering their origin, but none of them with submission, remembering
that they are transmitted to him by varied channels. He should call to
his aid the best scholarship, should gain all the light he can from
archæological and historical researches, and use his best critical
judgment in separating the essential truth revealed from all the
accretions that may have grown up around it. If he has developed his
higher psychic qualities, he should try to trace and disentangle the
ancient from the modern, search the ākāshic records for comparison,
confirmation, or contradiction of the revelation as it has come into his
hands. How immense might be the services of such Theosophical Students as
they become more numerous and better equipped for this gigantic task. And
without this external equipment much may be done by inner unfoldment;
he may unfold within himself his own spiritual powers; he may seek in
profound meditation the truth which shines in the revelation beneath many
a veil of ignorance and misconstruction; he may so purify his life that
his bodies will become translucent of the light of the spirit within him,
will illumine the written words. “The things of God knoweth no man but
the Spirit of God.” But that Spirit dwells in every child of man; and
as His light shines out, the divine things are revealed to the pure in
heart. Until the inner Spirit thus responds to the revealed teachings
and statements, the Theosophical Student must hold his judgment in
suspense before the claims of any revelation. It is not true _for him_
until he can re-echo it in the voice of his own Spirit, his deepest Self.
Useful and beautiful it may be; worthy of profoundest study and reverent
research are the world’s Bibles. But until they are affirmed by the
Spirit within submission cannot be yielded, lest that should be given to
the errors of men which is due only to the divine Spirit.
What is Inspiration? The raising of the normal human faculties by some
extraneous influence through grade after grade of intellectual, moral,
and spiritual power, up to the point where the extraneous influence may
even expel the man from his body and use it for the expression of another
individual; where the new possessor is a Being at a height utterly
transcending man, inspiration may pass into revelation. Some may think
the word should be restricted to the raising of the powers of the subject
from above their normal capacity to the highest point of their possible
exercise, short of the expulsion of their owner and his replacement by
another individual greater than himself.
The lower grades of inspiration are within the experience of very many.
Have you never felt, when listening to a speaker whose knowledge and
power transcended your own, that your mental faculties were lifted to a
higher level than that to which you could rise unaided? On such occasions
you grasp questions that hitherto have eluded you; you see plainly, where
before there had been obscurity; the field of thought becomes illumined,
and objects are seen in hitherto undreamed-of relations—you feel that
you know. On the following day you desire to share with a friend the
treasures you acquired, and you begin to recount the luminous exposition,
to describe the great horizons which opened before you. You fail: where
is the light, where the far-off scenes over which your eyes had swept?
Your mind has sunk again to its normal level; the inspiration has passed
away. As with the intellectual, so with the moral faculties. You had seen
an unknown beauty, had felt an overwhelming admiration for the lofty
and the pure: what has become of the warmth, the ardour? Are the cold
ashes of the intellectual approval all that remains of the throbbing
heart, the passionate delight in the moral ideal? Why does it now look so
cold, so grey, so unattractive? You were raised to a higher level than
you can reach unassisted; but none the less has the moral ideal and its
power been shown to thee “in the Mount,” and the fact that you have once
experienced its all-compelling power will render you more susceptible to
it in the future, and the day will come when that which you felt when
inspired by another shall become the normal exercise of your own moral
faculties.
Coming to higher grades of inspiration, we may know, some of us, what it
is to stand in the presence of the Masters, and to feel the marvellous
uplift of Their presence. There is no need for words, no need for
teaching; Their presence is enough. From that presence we go out again
into the ordinary world, to feel the difference of its atmosphere from
that of the Holy One. But, _we have known_, and the memory remains an
abiding power.
Those who have written or spoken under inspiration have been thus
uplifted, their own intellectual and moral faculties have thus been
stimulated, and raised far above their normal level. It is still they who
write or speak, and their own characters and temperaments colour what
they say, leave their own impress on what they write. But they write and
speak far more nobly, far more powerfully than they could do unassisted.
And so we may rise from grade to grade of inspiration until we reach the
stage at which the mind and emotions of the man no longer sway his body,
but the body is wholly taken possession of and used by One greater than
himself. Then it is no longer the man himself who speaks, but “the Spirit
of” his “Father who speaketh in” him; his own limitations are struck
away, his own idiosyncrasies vanish, and the inspired utterances flow
forth unsullied. Then inspiration may range into revelation.
The process of all this is a very simple one. We know that by the
correlation between changes in consciousness and vibrations of matter,
each change in consciousness is accompanied by a vibration of the matter
appropriated by the consciousness and forming its body; each vibration
of the matter of a body is accompanied by a change in the embodied
consciousness. Either one of the pair may be the initiator; the other
ever responds. When two or more people are together, one more evolved
than the other or others, the more evolved person, thinking, desiring,
acting, sets up in his own bodies, mental, astral, and physical, a series
of vibrations which corresponds to the changes in his consciousness;
these vibrations cause similar vibrations in the mental, astral, and
physical matter intervening between himself and the less advanced person
or persons present. These vibrations in the intervening matter cause
similar vibrations in the neighbouring body or bodies. These vibrations
are immediately answered by corresponding changes in the embodied
consciousness or consciousnesses, and the person or persons concerned,
thus placed _en rapport_ with one more advanced, think, desire, act on
a higher level than would be possible for them on their own initiative.
They are able to understand more keenly, to feel more warmly, to act more
nobly than they could do unassisted. When the stimulus is removed they
gradually sink back to their normal level, but memory is left, and they
remember that they “have known.” Moreover, it is more easy for them to
respond a second time, and so on and on, until they establish themselves
on the higher level permanently. Hence the value of companionship with
those more advanced than ourselves, of living “in their atmosphere.”
Words are not necessary; little speech may pass; but insensibly the
subtle body is tuned to a higher key, and only, perhaps, when the
companionship is interrupted do the younger become conscious of the
change which has thus been brought about by contact with the elder.
Similar results may be brought about by reading the writings of those
who are more evolved than we are. A similar series of changes is set up,
though less powerfully than by the living presence. Moreover, intent and
reverent study may attract the attention of the writer whether he be in
or out of the body, and may draw him to the student, and thus cause the
latter to be enveloped in his atmosphere quite as potently as though he
were physically present. Hence the value of reading noble literature:
we are keyed up to its level for the time, and such reading, steadily
persevered in, will lift us to a higher level and establish us thereon.
Hence the value of a brief reading before meditation, lifting us into
an air more favourable to the work of meditation than we can start from
unassisted. Hence the value also of “holy places” for such meditation,
places where the atmosphere is literally vibrating at a higher rate than
our own; and hence the advice so often given by the instructed, to keep,
if possible, a room or closet set apart for meditation, such a place soon
gaining an atmosphere purer and subtler than that of the surrounding
world. It is of little use for the theosophical student to be acquainted
with these laws if he does not utilise them to his own helping, and to
the helping of those around him.
What should be the attitude of the theosophical student towards the
inspired man or the inspired book? He should be receptive, stilling all
his normal vibrations so far as is possible, and opening his whole nature
to the impact and influx of the waves of vibration that pour forth upon
him. But his attitude should be more than receptive: he should gently
endeavour to attune himself and to co-operate with the inflowing waves.
He should try to strengthen the sympathetic vibrations, so that the
accompanying changes in consciousness may be as complete as possible. For
this he must pour out to the inspiring Object his love, his trust, his
complete confidence and self-surrender, for thus only can he attune his
bodies into sympathy with those of the Inspirer. He must, for the time,
empty himself of his own ideas, his own feelings, his own activities,
surrendering himself to reproduce, not to initiate. As the unruffled lake
can mirror the moon and the stars, but as that same lake rippled by a
passing breeze can yield only broken reflexions, so may the lower being,
steadying his mind, calming his desires, and imposing stillness on his
activities, reproduce within himself the image of the higher, so may the
disciples mirror the Master’s mind. And so, also, if his own thoughts
spring up, his own desires arise, will he have but broken reflexions,
dancing lights, that tell him nought.
If you are going to read one of the inspired books of the world—_The
Imitation of Christ_; _The Golden Verses_ of Pythagoras; _The Light on
the Paths_; _The Voice of the Silence_—it is well to preface the reading
with a prayer, if that be your habitual way of raising your consciousness
to its highest mood, or with the repetition of a mantra, or the soft
chanting of some familiar and beloved rhythm, in order to bring yourself
into a sympathetic condition. Then read a phrase, re-read, brood over it,
savour it mentally, suck out its essence, its life.
Thus shall your subtle body become, to some extent at least, attuned to
that of the inspired writer, and repeating his vibrations, shall set up
in your consciousness the corresponding changes. Priceless is the value
of inspired books: they are steps of a ladder set up between earth and
heaven, a veritable Jacob’s ladder, on which descend and ascend the
angels of God.
There remains a third class of books worthy of the attention of the
theosophical student, but towards which his attitude should be entirely
different from those which he adopts towards the revealed and the
inspired. These are books containing the observations of students more
advanced than himself, observations carried on upon planes above the
physical, observations made by students who are evolving in knowledge
of, and in power on, those planes, and have not yet reached the stature
of the Perfect Man. There are books such as _The Secret Doctrine and
Esoteric Buddhism_, written by disciples, which are not records of the
direct observations of students, but are rather transcriptions of the
teachings of Masters, into which errors may creep by misunderstandings
of those teachings. H. P. Blavatsky herself told us that there were
inevitably errors in _The Secret Doctrine_; and as we have in that
wonderful book her own descriptions of the pictures shown to her by her
Master, there is an opening for possible errors of observation: these are
probably not serious, as she was carefully overlooked and aided during
the writing. These two books stand apart from the bulk of our literature,
the Masters having been largely concerned in their production. The books
I have in mind are those written by disciples, using their own normal
faculties, faculties still in course of evolution; books relating chiefly
to the astral, mental, and buddhic planes, to the constitution of man,
to the past of individuals, nations, races, and worlds. We are gradually
accumulating a large amount of literature of this kind, a literature of
observations by students using superphysical faculties. With regard to
this, certain things need to be borne in mind.
First: the students in question are in course of evolution, and the
faculties of which they make use to-day, which have become their normal
faculties, are more developed and reach higher planes than those which
they used ten or fifteen years ago. Hence they see now very much more
than they saw then, both in quantity and quality, and this enlarged
sight must inevitably give reports differing in fulness from that of the
earlier and narrower vision.
Secondly: this greater fulness will change relative proportions and
perspective. A thing which seemed imposing and independent when seen
alone, may become subordinate and comparatively insignificant when seen
as a part of a larger whole. It may change form and colour, seen with
surroundings which become visible only when it is looked at with a higher
vision. That which was a globe, sailing through space, to the physical
eye, becomes the free end of a continuous body, materially attached to
the sun, when seen with superphysical sight. Was it false to describe it
a globe? Yes, and no.
It was and is a globe on the physical plane, answering to all that is
meant by a globe down here. In subtler regions it is not a globe, but a
body, the tip of which is a globe only to gross vision, vision to which
its continuation is invisible.
Thirdly: the keener vision detects intermediate stages before unseen, and
shows a series of changes between two which, to the less acute sight,
were in immediate sequence. Thus, in the earlier observations, it was
said that the ultimate physical atom broke up into astral matter. When
a similar phenomenon is studied twelve years later, it is seen that the
physical atom breaks up into an immense number of inconceivably minute
particles, and that these immediately group themselves into forty-nine
astral atoms, which may or may not, again, combine into astral molecules.
Again, a whirling wall was mentioned: keener vision sees no wall, but an
illusory enclosure, caused by rapid motion, like the fiery circle traced
by a whirling fire-tipped stick. So, in the continuous light of gas or
electricity, a whirling disk of black and white rays shows grey; put out
the lights, and let the darkness be rent by a lightning-flash, the disk
hangs motionless, every black and white ray distinct. Which is the true
observation? The eye in each case bears true witness to what it _sees_.
The different conditions impose upon it different visions.
Other differences also arise, but these may serve as samples. Are, then,
books relating to observations useless? They only become useless, even
mischievous, when the theosophical student treats them as revelations
or inspirations instead of as observations. Observation is the basis of
scientific knowledge; the correction of earlier observations by later
ones is the condition of scientific progress. The student of optics,
when confronted with the black-and-white rayed disk, the grey disk, the
whirling disk hanging motionless, does not conclude that the conflicting
observations make observations useless. He searches for and finds the
conditions of light, of the constitution of the eye, which explain the
equally true though contradictory reports. He submits the observations
to renewed experiment and to the scrutiny of reason, until from the
contradictions emerges the many-sided truth.
What should be the attitude of the theosophical student to books of
observations? To all such books you must take up the attitude of the
scientific student, not of the believer. You must bring to bear upon them
a bright intelligence, a keen mind, an eager intellect, a thoughtful
and critical reason. You must not accept as final, observations made by
other students, even though those students are using faculties which
you yourselves have not as yet developed. You should accept them only
for what they are—observations liable to modification, to correction,
to reviewal. You should hold them with a light grasp, as hypotheses
temporarily accepted until confirmed or negated by further observations,
including your own. If they illuminate obscurities, if they conduce
to sound morality, take them and use them; but never let them become
fetters to your mind, gaolers of your thought. Study these books, but do
not swallow them; understand them, but hold your judgment in suspense:
these books are useful servants but dangerous masters; they are to be
studied, not worshipped. Make your own opinions, do not borrow those of
others; do not be in such a hurry to know that you accept other people’s
knowledge, for ready-made opinions, like ready-made clothes, are neither
well-fitting nor becoming.
There is a dangerous tendency in the Theosophical Society to make books
of observations authoritative instead of using them as materials for
study. We must not add to the number of blind believers who already
exist, but to the number of sane and sober students, who patiently
form their own opinions and educate their own faculties. Use your own
judgment on every observation submitted to you; examine it as thoroughly
as possible; criticise it as fully as you can. It is a poor service you
do us when you turn students into popes, and, parrot-like, repeat as
authoritative, statements that you do not know to be true. Moreover,
blind belief is the road to equally blind scepticism: you place a
student on a pedestal and loudly proclaim him to be a prophet, despite
his protests; and then, when you find he has made some mistake, as he
warned you was likely, you turn round, pull him down, and trample on him.
You belabour him when you should belabour your own blindness, your own
stupidity, your own anxiety to believe.
Is it not time that we should cease to be children, and begin to be men
and women, realising the greatness of our opportunities and the smallness
of our achievements? It is not time to offer to Truth the homage of
study instead of that of blind credulity? Let us ever be ready to
correct a mistaken impression or an imperfect observation, to walk with
open eyes and mind alert, remembering that the best service to Truth is
examination. Truth is a sun, shining by its own light; once seen, it
cannot be rejected. “Let Truth and falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth
put to the worse in a fair encounter?”
FOOTNOTES
[1] I am told that these punishments are no longer used in English jails.
If that be so, a step has been made in advance.
[2] The _principle_ of reincarnation is accepted, in this sense, by many
Spiritualists, who deny that man returns to earth. With them another line
of argument would be followed to prove the necessity of reincarnation on
earth.
[3] See _The Science of the Emotions_, by Bhagavān Dās, Theosophical
Publishing Society.
[4] A Roman Catholic friend tells me that it is also used in cases of
great danger, and that a friend of hers was thrice raised by it from what
threatened to be a deathbed.
[5] _Mundakepanishat_, I. i. 5.
[6] _Loc. cit._, ii. 46.
[7] _Buddhism_, p. 116.
[8] _Kalama Sutta_ of the _Anguttara Nikaya_.
TOPICAL INDEX
TO
THE CHANGING
WORLD
BY
ANNIE BESANT
ARRANGED BY THE
CHICAGO LODGE, T.S.
FOR THE USE OF STUDENTS
Copyright 1910 by
THEOSOPHICAL BOOK CONCERN
26 Van Buren Street, CHICAGO
INDEX
A
Abbas Effendi, spiritual teacher and prophet, 150
Adept, mark of, 231
standard of, at Shamballah, 294, 295
(see Masters of Wisdom, also Manu).
Ākāshic records, contain original revelations, 321
Age, signs of closing, 3
in religion, 7-16
in science, 16-21
in art, 21-24
in social conditions, 27-46
transitional, 4, 5, 149, 150
signs of opening, in religion, 54-63
in science, 63-70
in art, 70-74
in social conditions, 75-102
America, social conditions in, 34, 35, 36
Ancient Wisdom, a great river, 285
truths of, Theosophy, 183
religion traced to universal, 190
Angels, and Archangels, 137, 191, 271
disappearance of the teaching, 271
Archaeology (see comparative Mythology), 113, 188, 189
Archangels (see Angels).
Aristotle, 107
Art, beauty a necessity, 21, 22
in India, 21, 22
imitative, not creative, 23
new, created by new senses, 70, 77
colour and sound, coloured sounds, 70, 72, 73
reaches out by emotion, 73
colour and emotion, sound and emotion, 70, 71, 72, 73
and Theosophy in the coming civilization, 200, 201, 202
restoration of, a necessity, 201
is beauty, not common place, 202
Artist, the, priest of the beautiful, 202
Aryan Race, fifth root race, 3
ideal type of, 116
to develop mind, 118
greatest development of mind, 118
sub-races of, 137, 138, 212, 213
fourth sub-race, emotional, 184
fifth sub-race, 214, 215
characteristics, 217, 218
dominant note, 184
selection of stock for and development of, 229, 230
Astral aura (see Aura).
Astral body of next race, 53, 54
organized under pressure of thought, 124
activity of its sense organs, 125
its senses and psychism, 125
and the pituitary body, 125
vibrations and emotions in, 167
organization of, 170, 172, 173, 174
and dreams, 175
unifying with physical, 176
false methods of organization, 177, 178
organized by meditation and purity of life, 178, 179
Astral colours (see Colours).
Astral senses, 51, 53, 57, 58, 59
effect of development, 60-63
builders of new art, 70, 73
methods of development (see astral body), 177-179
Atlantean Race, the fourth, predominant traits, 114, 211
source of the fifth root race, 115, 210
fourth sub-race of, the Toltec, 115
fifth sub-race of, the Semitic, 115, 230, 231
new root race, 115, 211
chosen from, 115, 211
developed mind, 211
Atlantis, continent of, 113
Atom and science in the West, 17
the chemical, our power of seeing, 64
experiments in seeing (see Clairvoyance), 64, 65
vibrations of, and consciousness of the Logos, 165
physical, earlier and later observations compared, 330
Atonement, vicarious, 148
Aura, colours of the astral, 166
colours of, and consciousness, 166
vibrations of, and consciousness, 167, 168
Australia, social condition in, 37-41
Avatāra, description of, 133, 134, 135
Aztecs (see Mythology), 113, 189
B
Bāb, messenger in Persia of coming Christ, 150
Baptism, a sacrament (see Sacraments), 266, 267
marked incoming of the Christ (see Christ), 306
Beauty, a necessity, 21, 22
human, finest type of, 116, 117
what it means, 201
theosophy teaches reverence for, 201
in ancient Greece, 193, 203
an essential part of utility, 224
Besant, Annie, joined Society in 1887, 228
facts re-communicated to her in 1895, 229
referred to as temporary personality, 258
her opponents, 259
and H. P. B., 290
her message to the T. S., 296
Bhagavad-Gītā, referred to, 279
quoted, 280, 282
on scriptures and the enlightened man, 319
Bibles, of the race, testimony of, 156, 157
Birmingham, 201
Blavatsky, H. P., practical proof of Brotherhood, 26, 27
on socialism, 44
and “The Secret Doctrine”, 209
referred to, 26, 227
disciple of Master M., 228
and inner side of T. S., 234
tribute to, on White Lotus Day, 1909, 282, 283, 284
her return, 286, 287
her endeavor frustrated, 288
a messenger of the Masters, 290
and Mrs. Besant, 290
and errors in secret Doctrine, 328
Bodies, evolution of, 49, 52, 54
the instruments of higher consciousness, 155
natural, triple differentiation, 162
spiritual and natural, 163
spiritual, 163
physical, organization of, 169, 170
subtle, organization of, 170
mental, organization of, 171
spiritual, organization of, 172
signs of organization of astral (see Telepathy, also Dreams), 173
astral, organization of, 170, 171, 172, 173
unifying physical and astral, 176
departments of man’s nature, 211
of sixth sub-race, 222
value of scientific way of dealing with (see Pituitary Body,
also Astral), 268
Body, human, of Jesus, 147
Books, and the Theosophical Student, 318
revealed, 321
inspired, 327
of observations, 328, 329, 330
when useless or mischievous, 331
Brotherhood, H. P. B.’s example of, 27
showing itself, 45
applied to social conditions, 75
not equality, 75, 76, 77
societies which recognize, 77
and reincarnation, 78, 79, 80
karma, 81
religion, 83, 84, 85
family and state, 78, 86, 87, 88
and education, 82, 89
capital punishment, 95
economics, 97, 98, 99, 100
politics, 101, 102
of religions, 237
mightiest thing in all the world, 242
chosen by Masters as our mark, 243
Bodhisattva, the supreme teacher, 137
manifests in every sub-race, 137
last manifestation as the Christ, 149
will again appear, 149
(see Hermes, Zarathustra, Orpheus)
Buddha, Wisdom-Truth.
spiritual man, 118
“The Enlightened”, 135
one in every Root race, 135
the, belongs to our race, 136
Gautama, last manifestation, 136
former manifestations in Aryan race, 136
passed on, Son united with Father, 142
Buddhi, qualities of, (see Christ), 241
Buddhism, revived in Ceylon, 236
Buddhists, their intellectual freedom, 319-320
C
Catholic Spirit, emotional temperament, 245
definition of, 252
its mind teachable, 253
Catholic Spirit, easily lead along path of Occultism, 253
and Mysticism, 253
type of, responds to idea of Masters, 254
and Occultism, 255-256
the Leadbeater question, 257-258
Chaldæa, 189
Christ, the time of birth (see Rome), 4, 5
“Jesus or Christ” (see Hibbert Journal), 10, 11, 147, 298, 299
type of spiritual man, 118
supreme teacher of fifth sub-race, 142, 143
the Divine Power, the Spirit of God, 147
signs of His coming, 148, 149
looked for by occult world, 151
shall we recognize Him, 151, 152, 153, 292
characteristics of, 152, 153
The Wisdom, 160
words of, 222
the Mystic, emblem of self-sacrifice, 238
showed new type to fifth sub-race, 241
will show qualities of Buddhi, 241
His reception and treatment, 288
“Christ in Modern Theology”, 299
time of His coming, 291
His powers, 303
unfolding of in Man, 305
and Jesus, relation between, 305
view taken of Him by occultists, 305
His incoming marked by Baptism (see Baptism), 306
the, who is He?, 307
the world teacher, 309
not Jesus, founder of Christianity, 312
not a unique manifestation, 313
will again be manifest, 313
Christos, office of, 143
the anointed one, 144
grade of initiation in Mysteries, 144, 307
Christian life, mystic, 148
_Christians Commonwealth_, 183
Christianity, early days of, 145
mysteries in, 145
and comparative Mythology, 189
keynote in, 193
mystical, spreading, 236
should give idea of self-sacrifice, 238
how to preserve it, 239, 240
and revealed Scriptures, 320
Church, the early, and the Gnostics, 145
the early, and the Mysteries, 263
Anglican, referred to, 272
Guilds of healing in, 273
must ever give sacraments, 277
Civilizations, of the past—perished, 27-28
of men, a succession is observed, 184
the coming prevailing mark spirituality, 184
and Brotherhood, 185
religion in coming, 184-185
Clairvoyance, under hypnotism (see Röntgen rays), 67, 57, 58
slight, seeing atom, 64
Aura, 165-166
Clairvoyant vision of sacrament, 269
Clement of Alexandria (see St. Clement)
Colour, new, given by new senses, 70
new, to indicate higher emotions, 70
Astral, seen by some painters (see Mortimer Menpes), 71
and sound, coloured sounds, 73
in Astral aura, 166
each religion has its, 192
Comparative Mythology (see Mythology)
Conscience must be enlightened, 13
and matter, development of, 52
human, 69, 74
and correspondences, 104
evolution of, three stages, 106-107
first dawn of, will to live, 109
second, of emotions, 110
third, power of mind, 110
coming type of, 118
mark of, in coming race, 119-120
higher, and flesh and alcohol, 124
unfoldment stimulated by meditation, 127, 176
purity, 178
of Logos, Great Beings in, 133
the larger, 155
and bodies, 155
higher, evidence of, 156-157
threefold division in man (see St. Paul), 159
waking the, 159-162
and form, relation between, 165
of Logos and atomic vibrations, 165
signs of unfolding, 172
man dominated by, 184
next principle to unfold, 184
unfolding taught in every religion, 191
and vibrations of matter, 325
Correspondences, principle of, 104
used by Mystics, 104
science, 104
Swedenborg, 104
theory of, used to explain past and forecast future, 104-107
and embryology, 106
in evolutionary stages, 106
Cortez, 189
Coulomb Plot, 283
Crime (see Penology)
Cromwell, Oliver, and Charles I. (see Puritan Spirit), 246
example of Puritan Mystic (see Reformation), 254
D
Damodar, tribute to, 286
his return, 289
Deduction in ancient philosophies, 107
and the science of mathematics, 107
characteristic of the Platonic method, 107
explains past and forecasts the future, 108, 110
used by Occult Science, 108
later stages of evolution traced by, 111
and reincarnation, 111
Desire and will, 161
determined by attractions outside (see Emotions), 161
Devāpi, sketch of, 227
Bodhisattva of the sixth race, 228
Devas, 137
drawn to altars of sacraments, 271
Dreams, physical, 175
show organization of Astral body, 175
E
Economics, conditions in England, 97, 98
in Australia, 99
and Brotherhood, 97, 98, 99, 100
problems solved by whom (see Social Conditions) (see Supply and
Demand), 100, 101
Education, and morals, 12
in the Old Testament, 14
and religion, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 86
social problems, 82, 86, 87, 88
Brotherhood, 82-89
in play, 88, 89
religious, in peril in England, 238
in India, influence, of Theos. Soc., 239
Egypt, ancient, compared with Southern Mexico, 113
Book of the Dead (see Comparative Mythology), 189
religious keynote, knowledge, 193
Emotions, colour and sound, 70, 71, 72
art reaches out by, 73
Wisdom-Love reflected as emotions, 109, 110
fourth root-race (see Atlantean), 114
root of, 161
science of (see Science of Emotions by Bhagavān Dās), 167, 168
dominant note of Keltic sub-race (see Aryan), 184
Epistles, the, deal with an indwelling Spirit (see Christ, also St.
Paul), 147, 304
Esoteric Buddhism and the Masters, 328, 329
Evolution, slow course of, 3
of Divine germ, 48, 49
of bodies and senses, 49
of new race, 114, 115, 116
of nervous system, 121
higher, and environments, 121
hastening, by meditation, 126, 127
of consciousness into Divine Man, 191
human not at the top of, 240
goal of, a manifest Divine humanity, 304
F
Fairbairn, Doctor, on “Christ in Modern Theology”, 299
issue not well taken, 300, 301
G
Garibaldi, referred to, 82
Gautama Buddha (see Bodhisattva), 141
Genius, 172
Germany attained national unity, 81
Glasgow, 201
Gnosis, ancient (see Theosophy), 185
Gnostics, necessary in Christian Church (see Origen), 145
Gnostic, heresy, 306
God, extra cosmic, 9
immanent, 10
spiritual knowledge of, how reached, 55
“The kingdom of God is within you”, 55
existence of, how demonstrated, 9, 55, 56, 57
manifesting triple nature (Trinity), 159
consciousness of, and vibration of atom, 165
unity of, taught in every religion, 190
in manifestation ever triple, 190
vast family of, 191
how we may help, to manifest, 294
Gospels, the, deal with an historical person (see Christ), 147, 304
Goths, 117, 214
Grail (see Holy Grail).
Greece, keynote of religion, beauty, 193
ancient, beauty in, 203
H
Haeckel, 113
Hebrew people, 211
and the Founder of Christianity, 303
Hermes, the Thrice Greatest (see Bodhisattva), 138
Hibbert Journal, article “Jesus or Christ”, 10, 11, 298, 299
“Christ in Modern Theology”, 299
Hierarchies, recognized by Masons and by Theosophists, 77
based on Brotherhood of Man, 78
of superhuman beings, rank in, 132
of spiritual intelligences, 191
not known to Protestants, 271
and apostolic succession, 272
Hindūism, a text book of, 83, 84
revived, 236
its two great teachings, 193, 238
and secular education, 238, 239
sacraments numerous in, 262
all great actions are sacramental, 274
and the Veda (see Veda), 318
in a nutshell, 319
and freedom of intellect, 318, 319
Historical sense in East and West contrasted, 139, 140
Holy Grail, legend of, the Mysteries and Yoga, 275
and the Ancient Path, 275
inner meaning, 276
connection with Christian Sacrament (see Sacraments), 277
Humanity, submerged classes of, 28, 29, 30
deterioration of physique, 32, 33
stunted and deformed (see Social Conditions), 201
Human nature changing, 43, 44, 80
changed by thought, 81
great ideals (see Mind), 82
Hypnotism used by physicians (see Science), 67
Hysteria, how produced (see Nervous System), 199
I
India, art in life of, 21, 22
social conditions in, 28, 29
Burmans, illustrate sense development, 50
music of, 72
the caste system, 79
religion of, 83, 84
Kashmir type of Aryan, 116, 117
false method of developing consciousness, 177, 178
the Yogi in, 199, 200
a mighty past and a mighty future, 212
White Lotus Day, memorial services in, 279
Induction and science, 107
limited to observed facts, 107
Initiates and inner revelation, 276
Initiations reflected in Mysteries, 143
of the Hierarchy, 144
Inspiration, what is it?, 322
and revelation, 322, 324
lower, within experience of many, 323
and the Masters, 324
in writing and speaking, 324
and true mediumship, 324
process of, simple, 325
through companionship, 326
through books, 326
Inspirational reading and meditation, 326
Inspired books, 327
men and books and the Theosophical student, 327
Intellectual growth, condition of, complete freedom, 301
and spiritual unfolding, 303
Intuition, above concrete mind, 290
light of spirit within, 289, 290
must be developed by Theosophists, 290
Iranians, 213
Ireland, people belong to fourth sub-race of Aryan, 212
kept apart, 213
Keltic race highly emotional, 184
Italy obtained national unity, 81, 82
J
Jesus, mysteries of (see St. Clement), 146
and Christ, 147
divinity of, 304
quoted, 304
and Christ, relation between, 305
to guard pure body for the Christ, 305
stepped out of body, 306
and Christ, view held in early Church, 307
the Master, guide of Christian Church, 310
still dwelling in human body, 310
possibility of personal relation with, 310
His work in the world, 312
Judge, W. Q., secession, 283
tribute to, on White Lotus Day, 1909, 285
K
Karma, and brotherhood, 81
human nature, 81
reincarnation, 81
law of, inviolable sequence, 81
law of, 221, 222
paid in this life (see Dr. Pascal), 281
belief in, 284
Keltic, fourth sub-race of the Aryan root-race, 140
Orpheus leader of (see Races, also Aryan), 140, 141
Kings, Moru and Devāpi (see Masters of Wisdom), 227
L
Law, universal, 191, 192
one eternal, taught by Christ and Buddha, 194
natural law does not change, 198, 199
Leadbeater, C. W. L., and the Catholic and Puritan spirit, 257
a transitory personality, 258
cause of great shaking of T. S., 260
Lemuria, lost continent of, 113
Lemurian, third root-race, characteristics of (see Races), 113
_Light of Asia_, 279
Lodge, Great, of the Masters, source of wisdom, 285
the, its messengers, 296
London, conditions of living in, 122, 123
life contrasted with country life, 123
Love, wisdom expresses itself as, 161
M
Mahdi, in Africa, 150
Man, divine, 45, 46
a spiritual intelligence, 48
the real spiritual individuality of, 163
dominated by consciousness, 184
spiritual, mark of, 118, 119
nature of, 211
can achieve all things, 204
is growing Godlike, 204
constitution of, and sacraments, 264, 265
body of, and Protestantism, 265
the spiritual, will know spiritual men, 292
God in, help the God to manifest, 294
a spiritual being in whom Divine Spirit will unfold, 302
spiritual nature to unfold along three lines, 302
Manchester, 201
Mantra, words of Power, 267, 268, 269
and experiments of Tyndall, 267
sound as used in, 267
use of, in Greek Church, 268
Manu, the thinker, 210
evolves race, 210
chooses type, 211
guide of root-race, 229
type of race, 229
of fifth root-race, his work, 229, 230
Masons, fraternity of, 77
Masters of Wisdom, 180
their teachings withdrawn, 148
Brotherhood of Teachers, 187
preside over human evolution, 192
two related to Theos. Soc., 226, 227
Kings, Moru and Devāpi, 227
and their pupils, 256, 257
quoted, “the standard of the adept”, 294, 295
how to know a Master, 293
their way of working in world, 311
the uplift of their presence, 324
and inspiration, 324
_The Secret Doctrine_, 328, 329
_Esoteric Buddhism_, 328, 329
Matter appropriated by spirit, 164
Deity manifest in, 164
spirit master of, 165
and spirit, relation between, 165
power over, 68, 69, 168, 169
vibrations of, and consciousness, 325
Mazzini, 221
Medicine, deadlock in, 19, 20, 21
hypnotism and clairvoyance used by physicians, 67
and vivisection (see Clairvoyance), 67
power of mind in treatment of disease, 68
Meditation, concentrated thinking, 58
artificially awakens senses, 59, 60
quickens evolution, 126, 127
three stages of, 127
stimulates unfolding consciousness, 127
develops instrument used in unfolding consciousness, 176
used for organization of finer bodies, 199
and inspiration, 326
Menpes, Mortimer, description of painting, 71
Mexico, 189
Mill, J. S., 240
Miller, Dr., 238
Mind, creates and restores, 68
supremacy over matter, 68, 69
characteristic of Teutonic sub-race (see Aryan), 118
Moral Educational Congress, 238
Moru, sketch of life, 227
letter quoted, 227, 228
Manu of sixth root-race, 228
co-operates with Manu of fifth root-race, 233
has begun His work, keynote brotherhood, 233, 234
Music, the new, 72
of India, 72
Russia, 73
every religion has note of its own, 192
Myer’s book on Human Personality, 175
Mysteries, Orphic, 140, 141
Greek thought in, 143
Christos, grade of, 143
reflexions of initiations, 143, 144
of Jesus (see St. Clement of Alexandria), 146
of Kingdom of God, 146
in early church, 263
followed by legend of the Holy Grail, 275
of Jesus took place of Yoga in Hindūism, 275
Mysticism and Puritan and Catholic spirit, 253
Mystic Puritan, example in Cromwell, 254
Mythology, comparative, 8, 188, 189
and dogmatic Christianity, 189
comparative religion, 190
N
Nerves, sensory and motor, 169
Nervous system, of fourth and fifth races compared, 52
increase of nervous diseases, 53
of sixth sub-race, 53, 222, 223
evolved according to law, 60
changing type unstable, 120
greater tension causes madness (see Psychology), 121
its finer evolution, conditions impossible, 121
delicate type of, 121, 122
in coming race, 121, 122, 123
flesh food unsuited to finer type, 124
of Chinese and Japanese compared with Aryan, 222, 223
Nineveh, 189
O
Observation, basis of scientific knowledge, 331
Occultism and the Catholic spirit, 253
in the church, 263
Occultist, possibility of, in Catholic type, 254, 255
not found in Puritan type, 255
must be willing to learn by experience, 256
develops faculties in doing Master’s will, 256, 257
and the mantra, 267
records of revelations accessible to him only, 321
Olcott, Col. H. S., referred to as founder of T. S., 228
the President Founder, tribute to, 282
Old Testament in education, 14
Origen’s writings, 145, 146, 147
Orpheus, leader of fourth sub-race (see Bodhisattva), 140, 141
P
Parsīs, 213
Pascal, Doctor, tribute to, 281
Path, the, 275, 276, 277
Penology, criminal population, 33, 34
criminals and their treatment, 89-91
habitual criminals, 92
probation system, 94, 95
capital punishment, 95, 96
criminal of lopsided development, 91
prison labor, 92, 93
Periods, the present a transitional, 4, 5
related to Mighty Beings, 133, 134
four great world, 133
Persia, keynote of religion purity, 193
Persians, 212
Philosophy, Hindū, and the Vedas, 318
Pituitary Body, use of, development of, 125
affected by flesh and alcohol, 125, 126, 197, 198
connecting link between grosser and finer senses, 51, 196
Plato, his philosophy, 107
Politics, liberty and the franchise, 101
class legislation in England, 101
liberty, 101, 102
freedom and self-control, 102
Protestant, knows nothing of hierarchy, 271
Protestantism, its attitude towards physical body, 265
and materialism, 265
recognizes two sacraments only, 272
Psychic, low grade of intelligence in undeveloped, 115
qualities developed before lower mind, 230
Psychism, powers of, where found, 114
higher, how produced (see Astral Body), 125
Psychology, new, the, 18, 19
range of possibilities (see Nervous System), 69, 70
soul in relation to spirit (see Soul), 160
Purānas, 226, 227
Puritan Spirit and intellectual temperament, 245
value of, 245, 246
in reign of Charles First and Cromwell, 246
Charles Second, 246
description of, 247, 248
outburst of, necessary, 248
and intellectual development of man, 249
growth of, and loss of the spiritual, 250, 251
in Theosophical Society, 251, 252
and lofty form of Mysticism, 253, 254
Occultism, 255-257
the Leadbeater question, 257, 258
R
Races, root and sub, 1, 2
religion of, 235
and senses, 49, 50
choice of new, 210
fourth and sixth, closely interlinked, 213
Lemurian, dominant characteristics of, 113
Atlantean (see also Atlantean), 113
passion and lower psychism of, 114
characteristics of Semitic sub-race, 115, 230
highest civilization in Toltec, 115, 230
Aryan (see also Aryan), 3
source of, 229, 230
second sub, Hermes leader of, 138
third sub, Zarathustra leader of, 140
fourth sub, Orpheus leader of, 140, 141
interlinked with sixth sub, 213
reached its zenith, 214
fifth sub, the Christ leader of, 142, 143
characteristics of, 151, 152
sixth sub, physical characteristics, 53, 222
mental and emotional characteristics, 152, 154, 232
general characteristics, 215, 216, 217
interlinked with fourth sub, 213
candidature for, 222
the coming, source of, 215
type of, 117-119
body of, 120-121
consciousness of, 119-120
preparation for, 127-130
religion and civilization of, 130, 131
candidature for, 215
Reason, irrational or enlightened, 13
unstable condition of, 120
and madness, 121
the pure and compassionate, the Wisdom, the Christ in man, 160
the pure and compassionate, shows itself in lower world as love, 161
Reflexion, principle of, 108, 109, 110
of the Great Will, 109
Wisdom Love, 110
Creative Spirit, 110
the law of, and correspondences, 110
Reformation, the, 250
reaction from the (see Puritan Spirit, also Cromwell), 263
the, and Occult mantras, 268
Reincarnation and brotherhood, 78-80
karma, 81
necessary to theory of reflexions, 111, 112
and unfolding consciousness, 191
the fact widely accepted, 237
belief in, 284
Religion, difficulties of, in the west, 6-9
and education, 12-16, 86, 238, 239
brotherhood, 83, 237
a search after God, 55
in India (see also India), 83, 84
universal text book of, 85, 86
great teachers of, their spiritual qualities, 118
coming race builder of a universal, 130
founders of, 187
and disciples, 263
source of great spiritual impulses, 187, 188
comparative (see Ancient Wisdom), 190
doctrines taught by every, 190-192
each, has its note and colour, 192
in Egypt, India, Persia, Greece, Rome, 193
each sub-race has a special, 235
of the future, 235-236
Christian Church broadening, 236
mystical Christianity spreading, 237
problem of, 265
Protestantism and the body, 265
spirituality and the lower world, 266
all recognize a great world teacher, 308, 309
draw together in the Supreme Teacher, 312
Revelation and the Self, 319
Buddhist, 319
authoritative nature of, in Christian and Muhammadan faiths, 320
defined, 320
source, 320
method of recording, 320
attitude of Theosophical student toward, 321
must be affirmed by the Spirit within, 322
Roberts, Dr. (see Hibbert Journal), 298, 299
view not sound and why, 299, 300, 301
Rome, closing age of, 4, 5
social conditions, 27
mighty, 214
religious note of, law, 193
Roman, type of, and Goth, 117
Roman Catholic Church and higher criticism, 7
Ireland, 214
the mystic spirit in, 236
attitude toward Theosophy, 263
use of mantra in, 268, 269
Sacrament of Holy Orders in, 272
use of sacramental oil, 273-274
reference to its Priesthood, 263
Röntgen rays (see Clairvoyance), 67
S
Sacraments, found in all great religions, 262
their object, 262, 266
in Hindūism, 262, 274
Roman Catholic Church, 263
definition of, 264
and constitution of man, 264, 265
Baptism, 266, 267
Holy Communion, 269
transubstantiation explained, 269, 270
from material standpoint, 270, 271
and materialism, 271
and Apostolic Succession, 272
Confirmation, 273
Penance, 273
Matrimony, 273
Extreme Unction, 273
and daily life, 274
must be given by church, 277
Sacrifice and discipleship (see Self-sacrifice), 179, 180
Saint, where found, definition of, 274
his Master and himself as disciple, 311
Saint Clement of Alexandria, writings, 145
“Mysteries of Jesus”, 146
St. Paul, writings on the Mystic Christ, 147
nature of man, 157, 158
soul, 160
definition of man, 162
birth of Divine Spirit in the Soul, 304, 305
Schuré, writings on mystical idea in Wagner (see Grail), 275
Science, in west, 17, 18
and ether, etheric sight, 63, 64, 65
chemistry founded on direct observation, 66
bounds of, extended, 66
hypnotism and clairvoyance used by physicians, 67
direct vision and vivisection, 67
geology and evolution, 106
and principle of correspondences, 104, 105, 106
induction and deduction, 107, 108, 110, 112
deduction and reincarnation, 111
in coming civilization, 194, 195
and Theosophy in coming civilization, 195, 196
_Science of the Emotions_, by Bhagavān Dās, 168
Scientific observation, 17, 18, 63, 331
progress depends on correct observation, 331
Scriptures, authoritative, back of all great religions, 318
and the enlightened man, 319
revealed, in Christianity, 320
_Secret Doctrine, The_, by H. P. Blavatsky, 209
possibility of errors in, 328
record of teachings of Masters, 328, 329
Self-sacrifice, keynote in Christianity, 193
and social redemption, 203
the basis of the coming civilization, 204
religion and civilization, 205
Senses, evolution of, in races, 49, 50, 51
new organs of, in sixth sub-race, 51, 53, 57, 58
artificially awakened by meditation, 59, 178, 179
astral, effect of development, 60-63
new, builders of new art, 70, 73
Sex-inferiority (see Woman Labor), 11
Sheffield, description of, 200
Sir William Crookes, on vibrations, 63
Social conditions, present, intolerable, 26
contrast of luxury and misery, 27
submerged classes, 28, 29, 30
physique, its deterioration, 32, 33, 201
multiplication of criminal population, 33, 34
in America, 34, 35, 36
Australia, 37-41
unemployed, 39, 40
trades unions in Melbourne, 41
competition replaced by co-operation, 42
woman labor, 29, 30, 31, 99, 100
Socialism, H. P. B. on, 44
Society and Theosophy, in coming civilization, 203
its redemption through self-sacrifice, 203
Soul, difference in age, the caste system, 79
the old and the young, 79, 80, 89, 90
lopsided development, 91
the young, its treatment, 92, 93
in relation to spirit, 160, 161
represented by three attributes, 161, 162
in temporary body, changed, 163
Sound, the music of the future, 72
and colour and emotion (see Senses, Vibration, Mantra, Tyndall), 73
Spirit only can know Him, 55
God in innermost depths of, 56
architect of human body, 74
higher qualities of, for coming race, 119
of the Christ, develop in yourselves, 154
definition of, 159
triple nature of, 159
in relation to soul, 158-160
spiritual body, 163
becoming master of matter, 164
and matter, relation between, 165
in man unfolds along three great lines, 302
Spiritual realities belong to spiritual life, 54
qualities of Great Teachers, 118, 119
type of humanity, mark Brotherhood, 119
body relatively permanent, 163
and memories of past, 163
greatness and the Theosophical Soc., 291
work of the spiritual teacher, 302
teacher sheds illumination, not control intellect, 303
Spirituality mark of coming civilization, 184
Subba Rao, tribute to, 287
Submerged classes (see Social Conditions).
Sun Myths, 141
Superstition, definition, 249
illustrated by Indian story, 249, 250
in religious reformations, 250
Supply and demand in America, 34-37, 41
Melbourne, 41
Swedenborg, 104
T
Telepathy and organization of the Astral body, 173
how developed (see Senses), 173, 174
Theosophy, name, 183
what is it? Whence does it come?, 185, 186, 187
its work in religion, 188
and comparative mythology, 189
religion, 190
work of, in coming civilization, in religion, 194
science, 195
and Yoga of the East, 199, 200
work of, in coming civilization, in art, 200, 201, 202
society, 203
its ideals in education must spread, 238
influence on education in India, 239
ideals rejected by men, 242
must teach relationship of disciple to Teacher, 312
Theosophical Society, considers causes rather than effects, 25
teaching of, its advantage, 48, 209
its members at different stages, 225
drawn into swifter evolution, 225
two masters related to, 226
founders of, 227
inner purpose of, 228
brotherhood, only binding principle, 233, 234
and scientific men, 232
corner-stone of future religion, 234
first work of, vitalising Religions, 235, 236
checked skepticism in India, 239
problem, how to preserve religion while letting dogmatism go, 239-240
personality and principle in, 225, 243, 258
nucleus of sixth root-race, beginning of sixth sub-race, 225, 242
members not leaders of present race, 242
shakings in, their use, 243, 260, 287, 295
duties of, in respect to sacramental rites, 277, 278
not bound by its officers, 244
reasons for staying in, 258, 261, 295
possibility of its death, 261
Theosophical movement not confined to, 285
its great difficulty, 287, 288
immediate work, 288, 289
members of must develop intuition, 290
must recognize spiritual greatness, 291
would hardly welcome a Master, 294
the John the Baptist to prepare the way for the Christ, 295
Mrs. Besant’s message to, 296
should use books of observation as materials for study only, 332
Theos. student should prepare to verify teachings, 317
his attitude towards theoretical study, 317
must discriminate between books he reads, 318
his attitude towards books of observations, 328
Thought and the treatment of diseases, 68
human nature changed by, 81, 82
and organization of the Astral body (see Mind), 124
forms, 255
Thought-image first, then its materialization, 46
Transition periods, birth of Christ, (see Rome), 4, 5
the present, 4, 149-150
Transubstantiation (see Sacraments), 269, 270
Trinity (see God), illustrated by organic chemistry, 270
Truth, a sun, 332
examination of, is best service, 333
Tyndall, experiments of (see Mantra), 267
Type, ideal, of the Aryan, 116
of future nations, that of family, 46
in mind of Logos, 116
Roman, 117
chosen by Manu, 115, 211
intellectual, its work, 117, 118
of coming race, 117, 119
of spiritual man, 118, 119
with delicate, highly developed nerves, 120-122
of bodies of coming race, 222
of new Teacher a new departure, 240
next, new and strange, 240, 241
Types, seven great human, 116
reproduce themselves, 117
V
Veda, meaning of word, 318
supreme authority of, 318
held high place in early days of Buddhism, 319
Vegetarianism, flesh food unsuited to coming race, 124
and Pituitary Body, 125, 126
pure body needed for unfolding consciousness, 178
Vibrations, sound, in words of power (see Mantra), 267
effect of, on consciousness of bodies, 168, 169
of atoms and consciousness of Logos, 165
Vicarious atonement, 148
Vivisection, a fatal road, 19, 20
done away with by direct vision, 67
W
White Lotus Day 1909, memorial services in India, 279
all over the world, 280
Will, self determined, 161
and desire, 161
highest characteristic of Spirit, 302
must be developed from above, 302
Wisdom, the, the Christ in man (see Ancient Wisdom), 160
expresses itself as love, 161
Woman, in labor market, 99, 100
Woman labor, (see social conditions), 29, 30, 31
Worlds, and human evolution, 191
Y
Yoga, false methods of developing consciousness (see Meditation),
177, 178
Theosophy brings Yoga of East, 199, 200
the Mysteries and legend of Holy Grail (see Holy Grail), 275
Yogi, the Indian, 199, 200
Z
Zarathustra or Zoroaster, leader of third sub-race (see
Bodhisattva), 140
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