Chapter 2 of 13 · 36056 words · ~180 min read

II.

Ginsburg and others tell us that Raymond Lully and John Picus de Mirandola had acquired knowledge of the Hebrew and the Caballah. Mirandola studied Hebrew and Cabbalistic theology under Jochanan Aleman, who came to Italy from Constantinople, and—“found that there is more Christianity in the Cabbalah than Judaism; he discovered in it proof for the doctrine of the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Divinity of Christ, the heavenly Jerusalem, the fall of the angels, the order of the angels,” and so on, and so on. “In 1486, when only 24 years old, he published 900 _theses_, which were placarded in Rome, and which he undertook to defend in the presence of all European scholars, whom he invited to the Eternal City, promising to defray their traveling expenses. Among the theses was the following: ‘No science yields greater proof of the Divinity of Christ than magic and the Cabbalah.’”

Through Picus de Mirandola, Reuchlin became aware of this phase of Hebrew philosophy or theosophy, as, by a school of the rabbins, a recognized appurtenant to the Hebrew Scriptures. He not only examined into the Cabbalah to satisfy his thirst for facts of literature, but, on investigation, became a convert to the system,—“within two years of beginning to learn the language, published (1494) his De Verbo Mirifico, and afterwards (1516) with more matured learning, his De Arte Cabbalistica.” And thus the joint efforts of Mirandola and Reuchlin established a field of literature, of the Cabbalah, which has always flourished, and will continue to flourish so long as our civilization shall last.

It is interesting and useful to place this great fact, but it is a matter of especially great weight and value that the knowledge of the Cabbalah was sprung upon the world of letters, with, and _as an essential part of_ the Reformation itself. Not that the philosophy of the Cabbalah became engrafted into the study and development of Hebrew (and consequently Christian) theosophy:—for, because of lack of knowledge of what the Cabbalah really was, such could not be the case,—but it was entitled so to be, and the assertion of its existence as a real element of Scripture was, even then, so strongly and enduringly made, that, though an unknown quantity except by name, it has ever since stood firmly, and ready to have such claim made good:—with a vitality that has outworn four hundred years of patient waiting.

Of course there was a field of Jewish Cabbalistic literature,—not open, but confined, for the most part, as a kind of sacred mystery, within narrow and restricted limits, even among the Jews themselves. It was of the same nature with what is called, to-day, The Speculative Philosophy of Free Masonry, an ever seemingly substantive embodiment out of surrounding shadowy mists and mental fogs, wherein a doubt always exists whether after all there is in the nebulous matter of the mist itself anything from whence substance may congeal; or, it may, for illustration, be compared to the city of King Arthur, before whose gate Gareth, standing, says: “But these my men—(your city moves so weirdly in the mist),—doubt if the King be King at all, or come from Fairy land: and whether this be built by magic, and by fairy kings and queens, or whether there be any city at all, or all a vision.” It is necessary to make a brief mention of this literature with its sources; both that these may be known, and that a foundation may be laid for what is stated as to the reality of Cabbalah, and its significance.

There is almost no teaching of the Cabbalah in the English language except the Essay by Christian D. Ginsburg, LL. D., to which we have referred. Dr. Ginsburg says: “It is a system of religious philosophy, or more properly, of theosophy, which has not only exercised for hundreds of years an extraordinary influence on the mental development of so shrewd a people as the Jews, but has captivated the minds of some of the greatest thinkers of Christendom in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and which claims the greatest attention of both the philosopher and theologian.”

It is faintly claimed that some statements applying to Cabbalah are to be found in the Talmud; but apart from this we have:—(1) The Commentary on the Ten Sephiroth, by R. Azariel ben Manachem (1160-1238), who was a pupil of Isaac the Blind, and master of the celebrated R. Moses Nachmanides, (2) The Book Sohar (Light), or Midrash, Let there be Light, claimed to have been a revelation from God, communicated through R. Simon ben Jochai, A. D. 70-110, to his select disciples. This book has been pronounced by the ablest critics to have been a pseudograph of the thirteenth century,—the composition of Moses de Leon, who lived in Spain; who, by the admission of his wife and daughter after his death, first published and sold it as the production of R. Simon ben Jochai, and (3) The Book Jetzirah or Book of Creation,—of unknown age and authorship, but mentioned as early as the eleventh century in the

## Book Chazari, by R. Jehudah Ha Levi,—as the literary sources for the

entire system and scope thereof, so far as disclosed. It is from these sources that the entire volume of Cabbalistic literature has had rise and development.

From these sources, and the numberless treatises and expositions thereon, the history of the subject matter and containment of Cabbalah is laid down as follows: It was first taught by God himself to a select company of angels. After the fall the angels taught it to Adam. From Adam it passed to Noah, thence to Abram, the friend of God who carried it to Egypt. Moses, who was learned in all the wisdom of Egypt, was initiated into it from the land of his birth. He covertly laid down the principles of its doctrines in the first four books of the Pentateuch, but withheld them from Deuteronomy (“this constitutes the former the ‘_man_’ and the latter the ‘_woman_’”). Moses initiated the seventy elders, and they again passed the sacred and secret doctrine down to the heads (continually imparting the same) of the Church of Israel. David and Solomon were adepts in it. No one dared to write it down till the supposititious Simon ben Jochai, who really lived and taught, as one of the most celebrated doctors, at the time of the destruction of the second temple; and his teachings are claimed to constitute the Book of Sohar, published, as already said, by Moses de Leon of Valladolid, in Spain. But Ben Jochai, or whoever worked under his name, though he wrote and published, as said, covered the true doctrine by veils, so that no one but an initiate, or, as the saying runs, “by the gift of God,” could penetrate behind them;—though the veils of the words still plainly held the secret doctrine, to those who could see. The Cabbalah, as an exposition to the Sacred Text of Holy Writ, was claimed to contain the Wisdom of God in every branch and department of His working,—and all terms and descriptions were exhausted to express the ineffable reward to him who might be permitted to penetrate behind the veil, either by initiation or “by the gift of God;” satiating every function of enjoyment, and affording an indescribable bliss, in the ultimate possessions of the Divine conceptions.

More definitely:—The exposition of the system treats of the impersonal First Cause manifesting within the limits of the finite. “Before he gave any shape to this world, before he produced any form, he was alone, without a form and resemblance to anything else.[91] Who, then, can comprehend him, how he was before the creation, since he was formless? Hence, it is forbidden to represent him by any form, similitude, or even by his sacred name, by a single letter or a single point; and to this, the words, ‘Ye saw no manner of similitude on the day the Lord spake unto you’ (Deut. iv. 15)—_i. e._, ye have nor seen anything which you could represent by any form or likeness,—refer” (Sohar 42 b, 43 a, Sec. AB):—And this shows clearly enough that the supposed sacred names of Scripture do not have reference to the Impersonal First Cause, as its essential designations, but rather to its creations. * * Then—“The creation, or the universe, is simply the garment of God _woven from the Deity’s own substance_ (The Impersonal manifesting in the cosmos, in modes to be expressed by the sacred names and otherwise). For although, to reveal himself to us, the Concealed of all the Concealed, sent forth the _Ten Emanations_ (the Ten Sephiroth) called the Form of God, Form of the _Heavenly-Man_, yet since even this luminous form was too dazzling for our vision, it had to assume another form, or had to put on another garment which consists of the _universe_. The universe, therefore, or the visible world, is a further expansion of the Divine Substance, and is called in the Cabbalah, ‘_the Garment of God_.’” (Sohar i, 2 a)—“The whole universe, however, was incomplete, and did not receive its finishing stroke till _man_ was formed, who is the _acme of the creation_, and the macrocosm uniting in himself the totality of beings,—‘the heavenly Adam,’ _i. e._, the Ten Sephiroth, who emanated from the highest primordial obscurity (The Impersonal First Cause), created the _earthly Adam_.” (Sohar ii, 70 b). This is more definitely expressed in another place, where it says:—“Jehovah (for which stands the letter _jod_, or _j or i_) descended on Sinai _in fire_,” the word for which is _a-sh_ fire. Let the _j, or i_, the signature for Jehovah, descend in the midst of this word, and one will have _a i sh_, which is the Hebrew word for _man_ man; thus _man_ became out of the _Divine fire_——“Man is both the import and the highest degree of creation, for which reason he was formed on the sixth day. As soon as man was created every thing was complete, including the upper and nether world, for every thing _is comprised in man_. He unites in himself all forms.” (Sohar iii, 48 a)—“But after he created the form of the Heavenly Man, he used it as a chariot (Mercabah) (wheels, circles) wherein to descend, and wishes to be called by this form, which is the sacred name Jehovah.” (Sohar i, 42 b, 43 a, section AB.)

It is to be observed especially, as to the ground work of the Cabbalah, that the first manifestation was in the “_Ten Sephiroth_,” or Emanations, so called, out of which came the “_Heavenly Man_”; and the human or earth man represented these Ten Sephiroth in himself. “The lower world is made after the pattern of the upper world; everything which exists in the upper world is to be found as it were in a copy on earth; still the whole is one.” (Sohar i, 20 a.)

Thus it is that the compass of the Cabbalah, by Sohar, is idealized in the form of a _man_. This man represented the combination of the Ten Sephiroth, or, as systematically called, _Emanations_, in which as a unity the whole cosmos existed in its segregated detail; and through which all knowledge thereof, physically, psychically and spiritually, was to be had, in passiveness and in activities;—and through which these activities, as of all potencies—as of angels and powers,—had their special existences. These Emanations had names of qualities, as Beauty, Strength, Wisdom, etc., etc., each name being located upon one of nine parts marked out on the form of the man; each of which was called a _Sephira_. The totality of the man being taken as _one_, this added to the nine made ten; and as a number this was the letter _jod_, already spoken of. The locations of these Sephiroth (shown as circles) are united one with another, so that one Emanation may flow into another; one into all, and all into one;—and the 22 letters of the alphabet with the 10 vowel sounds, are found therein, or thereby; and these are called the “_thirty-two ways or canals of Wisdom_”; and as these letters stood also for numbers, there is in this containment every possible mode of expression _by word and number_. The exposition of the Old Testament, especially the Thora, in the secret or esoteric way, is claimed under this statement;—that is, by numbering the letters of words, and by their permutations and changes of positions; so that this is one of the functions of the Emanations or Sephiroth; and a mighty one for disclosing the Wisdom of God.

The Book Jetzirah deals especially with these letters and numbers: “_By thirty-two paths of secret wisdom_, the Eternal, the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, the living God, the King of the Universe, the Merciful and Gracious, the High and Exalted God, He who inhabiteth eternity, Glorious and Holy is His name, hath created the world by means of numbers, phonetic language and writing.”

The Commentary on the Ten Sephiroth, by R. Azariel Ben Menachem, as its name implies, is directly in consonance with the Sohar.

As to the Book Jetzirah, Dr. Ginsburg says: “The _Book Jetzirah_, which the Cabbalists claim is their oldest document, has really nothing in common with the cardinal doctrines of the Cabbalah. There is not a word in it bearing on the En Soph (Impersonal First Cause), the Archetypal Man,” and so on, and so on. But here the doctor is at fault for this reason:—The word “_Sephiroth_” means “_Numbers_,” and the _Ten Sephiroth_ means the Ten Numbers; and in the Cabbalistic way these are composed out of a geometrical shape. The circle is the first _naught_, but out of this naught develops a straight vertical line, viz: the diameter of this circle. This is the first _One_; and having a first one, from it comes 2 and 3 and 4 and 5 and 6 and 7 and 8 and 9,—the circle or naught and its diameter one, the embracement of all together, forming the comprehensive _Ten_, or Ten Numbers, Ten Sephiroth, Ten Emanations, the Heavenly Man, the great Jah, of the ineffable name. Hence the contents of the book Jetzirah are of the very essence of the other two, and all are one.

SUFISM,

OR THEOSOPHY FROM THE STANDPOINT OF MOHAMMEDANISM.

_A Chapter from a MS. work designed as a text book for Students in Mysticism._

BY C. H. A. BJERREGAARD, _Stud. Theos._

In Two Parts:—Part I, Texts; Part II, Symbols.

The spirit of Sufism is best expressed in the couplet of Katebi:

“Last night a nightingale sung his song, perched on a high cypress, when the rose, on hearing his plaintive warbling, shed tears in the garden, soft as the dews of heaven.”

(CONTINUED.)

NOTES ON _JELALUDDIN RUMI_—Continued:

—Space forbids us to dwell any longer upon the miracles of this wonderful man of whom _Shems Tebreez_ once asserted, in Jelal’s College, that “whosoever wished to see again the prophets, had only to look on Jelal, who possessed all their qualifications; more especially of those to whom revelations were made, whether by angelic communications, or whether in visions; the chief of such qualities being serenity of mind with perfect inward confidence and consciousness of being one of God’s elect. Go and look upon Jelal, if thou wish to comprehend the signification of that saying ‘_the learned are the heirs of the prophets_,’ together with something beyond that, which I will not here specify.”

We must add a few passages from Jelal’s lectures, &c. These were his last instructions, “_the best of mankind is he who benefiteth men_” and, “_the best of speech is that which is short and to the purpose_.” Jelal once at a funeral spoke thus: “The ordinary reciters, by their services, bear witness that the deceased lived a Muslim. My singers, however, testify that he was a Muslim, a believer, and a lover of God.” He added: “Besides that; when the human spirit, after years of imprisonment in the cage and dungeon of the body, is at length set free, and wings its flight to the source whence it came, is not this an occasion for rejoicings, thanks, and dancings? The soul in ecstacy, soars to the presence of the Eternal; and stirs up others to make proof of courage and self sacrifice. If a prisoner be released from a dungeon and be clothed with honour, who would doubt that rejoicings are proper? So, too, the death of a saint is an exactly parallel case.” Once, when requested to give a lecture to men of science, he answered: “A tree laden with fruit, had its branches bowed down to the earth therewith. At the time, doubts and gainsayings prevented the gardeners from gathering and enjoying the fruit. The tree has now raised its head to the skies, and beyond. Can they hope, then, to pluck and eat of its fruit?”—

Jelal’s chief work, and the reference-book of Sufism, is the _Mesnevi_ (_Mathnawi_) usually known as the _Mesneviyi Sherif, or Holy Mesnevi_. It is truly one of the most famous books of the East, studied and commented upon wherever dogmatic religion has been abandoned for esoteric truth.

From the preface we quote the following:

“This is the book of the Rhymed Couplets (Mathnawi, Mesnevi). It contains the roots of the roots of the roots of the one (one true) Religion (of Islam); and treats of the discovery of the mysteries of reunion and sure knowledge. It is the Grand Jurisprudence of God, the most glorious Law of the Deity, the most manifest Evidence of the Divine Being. The refulgence thereof “is like that of a lantern in which is a lamp”[92] that scatters beams more bright than the morn. It is the paradise of the heart, with springs and foliage. One of these springs is “the fount named Salsabil”[93] by the brethren of this religious order;[94] but, by saints and those miraculously endowed, it is called “the Good Station,”[95] and “the Best Resting place.”[96] The just shall eat and drink therein, and the righteous shall rejoice and be glad thereof. Like the Egyptian Nile, it is a beverage for the patient, but a delusion to the people of Pharaoh and to blasphemers; even as God, whose name be glorified, hath said: “He misleads therewith many, and He guides therewith many; but He misleads not therewith (any), save the wicked.”[97]

“It is a comfort to man’s breast, an expeller of cares. It is an exposition of the Quran, an amplification of spiritual aliments, and a dulcifier of the disposition; written “by the hands of honorable scribes”[98] who inscribed theron the prohibition: “Let none touch it save the purified.”[99] It is (a revelation) “sent down (from on high) by the Lord of (all) the worlds,[100] which vanity approacheth not from before, nor from behind,”[101] which God watches over and observes, He being “the best of a Preserver,”[102] and “The Most Compassionate of the merciful ones,”[103] unto whom pertain (many) titles, his utmost title being God, whose name be exalted.”

Further on he says: “I have exerted myself to enlarge this book of poetry in rhyming couplets, which contains strange and rare narratives, beautiful sayings, and recondite indications, a path for the devout, and a garden for the pious, short in its expressions, numerous in their applications.”—

The Mesnevi is said to contain twenty-six thousand six hundred and sixty couplets and a large part of them ought to be cited here, but space forbids. We offer a few selections entirely at random.

The strength of strongest man can merely split a stone; The Power that informs man’s soul can cleave the moon. If man’s heart but untie the mouth of mystery’s sack, His soul soon soars aloft beyond the starry track. If heaven’s mystery divulged should, ‘haps become, The whole world ‘twould burn up, as fire doth wood consume.— Saints’ ecstacy springs from a glimpse of God, his pride. His station’s that of intimate. He’s bridegroom; God is bride. A bride’s veiled graces are not seen by groom alone; Her unveiled charms solely to him in private shown. In state she first appears before the people all; Her veil removed, the groom alone is at her call.— Who’s not received the gift of knowledge from above, Will ne’er believe a stock could sigh and moan for love. He may pretend to acquiesce; not from belief; He says: “Tis so,” to scape a name much worse than thief. All they who’re not convinced that God’s “Be” is enough, Will turn away their face; this tale they’ll treat as “stuff.” If he (man) from _esse_, reach not _posse’s_ state, he’s _nil_.— (God) Himself He’s veiled in man, as sun behind a cloud. This seek to comprehend. God knows what mysteries shroud. The sun He is;—the sun of spirit, not of sky; By light from Him man lives;—and angels eke, forby.— The soul it is originates all vital force.— The Prophet hath assureth us God’s the soul of all.— The world’s renewed each moment, though we still remain In ignorance that permanence can change sustain. Life, like a river, ceaselessly, is still renewed.— Each night Thou settest free the soul from trap of flesh, To scan and learn the hidden records of Thy wish. Each night the soul is like a bird from cage set free, To wander. Judge and judgment, then, it does not see. By night the pris’ner loses sense of bars, of chains; By night the monarch knows no state, no pomp retains; The merchant counts no more, in sleep, his gains and loss; The prince and peasant, equal, on their couches toss. The Gnostic is so e’en by day, when wide awake; For God hath said: “Let quietude care of him take.” Asleep to all the things of earth by night, by day, As pen in writer’s hand he doth his guide obey.— Of this, the Gnostic’s privilege, a trace’d suffice To rob of sleep and reason vulgar souls of ice. His spirit wanders in the groves of th’ absolute. His soul is easy; body, still, calm, quiet, mute.— In sleep thou bearest no burden; borne thou art, instead.

* * * * *

Know then, thy sleep’s a foretaste of what is to come, From the rapt state of saints arriving at their home. The saints were well prefigured by the “Sleeper’s Seven,” “Their sleep,” “their stretchings,” “their awaking” lead to heaven.— Each night, in profound sleep our consciousness sinks, Becomes non-existent;—waves on seashore’s brinks.— The body’s a cage and a thorn to the soul. Hence, seldom are body and soul wholly whole.— Both men and fairies pris’ners are in earthly cage.— If lifted could be from our souls the dark veil, Each word of each soul would with miracles trail.— The soul unto the flesh is joined, by God’s decree, That it may be afflicted,—trials made to see.— Th’ Infinites’ lovers finite’s worshippers are not Who seek the finite lose th’ Infinite, as we wot, When finite with the finite falls in love, perforce, His loved one soon returns to her infinite source.— In non-existence mirrored, being we may see;— Annihilate thy darksome self,—thy being’s pall. Let thy existence in God’s essence be enrolled, As copper in alchemists’ bath is turned to gold. Quit “I” and “We,” which o’er thy heart exert control. ’Tis egotism, estranged from God, that clogs thy soul.— Discharge thyself of every particle of self; So shalt thou see thyself pure, free from soil of pelf. Within thy heart thou’lt see the wisdom of the saints, Without a book, a teacher, or professor’s plaints.— Thyself * * purge of self. Abstraction thou shalt gain.— Both love and soul are occult, hidden and concealed.— A lover’s whole life is but self-sacrifice; He wins not a heart, save his own heart’s the price.— When love for God is lighted in the human heart, It fiercely burns; it suffers not effects’ dull smart; —— love is love’s own sign, giv’n from the highest sphere.— The heart’s with God,—the heart is God,—boundless, immense! From all eternity, the figures of all things, Unnumbered, multitudinous, gleam in hearts’ wings. To all eternity each new-created form In heart of saint reflected is, most multiform.— Have patience, thou too, brother, with thy needle’s smart. So shalt thou, ‘scape the sting of conscience in thy heart. They who have conquered,—freed themselves from body’s thrall, Are worshipped in the spheres, the sun, the moon, stars, all. Whoever’s killed pride’s demon in his earthly frame, The sun and clouds are slaves, to do his bidding, tame. His heart can lessons give of flaming to the lamp; The very sun not equals him in ardent vamp.— The inward hymn that’s sung by all the hearts of saints Commences: “O component parts of that thing _Not_.” Now since they take their rise in this _Not_, negative, They put aside the hollow phantom where we live. Ideas and essences become “things” at His word.— This world’s a negative; the positive seek thou. All outward forms are cyphers; search, the sense to know.— Mankind the songs of fairies never hear at all, They are not versed in fairies’ ways, their voices small.— “Allah, Allah!”[104] cried the sick man, racked with pain the long night through; Till with prayer his heart grew tender, till his lips like honey grew. But at morning came the Tempter; said “Call louder, child of Pain! See if Allah ever hear or answers ‘Here am I,’ again.” Like a stab, the cruel cavil through his brain and pulses went; To his heart an icy coldness, to his brain a darkness sent. Then before him stands Elias; says, “My child, why thus dismayed? Dost repent thy former fervor? Is thy soul of prayer afraid?” “Ah!” he cried, “I’ve called so often; never heard the ‘Here am I;’ And I thought, God will not pity; will not turn on me his eye.” Then the grave Elias answered, “God said, Rise, Elias, go Speak to him, the sorely tempted; lift him from his gulf of woe. Tell him that his very longing is itself an answering cry; That his prayer, ‘Come, gracious Allah!’ is my answer ‘Here am I.’” ..When thy mind is dazed by colour’s magic round, All colour’s lost in one bright light diffused around. Those colours, too, all vanish from our view by night. We learn from this, that colour’s only seen through light. The sense of colour-seeing’s not from light distinct. So, too, the sudden rainbow of our mind’s instinct. From sunlight, and the like, all outer colours rise; The inward tints that mark our minds, from God’s sunrise. The light that lights the eye’s the light that’s in the heart. Eye’s light is but derived from what illumes that part. The light that lights the heart’s the light that comes of God, Which lies beyond the reach of sense and reason, clod! By night we have no light; no colour can we see. Thus, light we learn by darkness, its converse. Agree! A seeing of the light, perception is of tints; And these distinguished are through darkness gloomy hints. Our griefs and sorrows were by God first introduced, That joy to sense apparent thence should be reduced Occult things, thus, by converse, grow apparent, all. Since God has no converse, apparent He can’t fall. Sight first saw light, and then the colours saw, From converse converse stands forth, as Frank from Negro. By converse of the light, distinguish we the light; A converse ‘tis that converse shows unto our sight. The light of God no converse has in being’s bound; By converse, then, man has not its distinction found. Our eyes cannot distinguish God, decidedly; Though He distinguish Moses and the Mount from thee.—

The doctrine, which Jelal was most emphatic about was the extinguishment of Self, and his teachings are quite characteristic for him, though the general doctrine is a common one among the Sufis. _He argues for simplicity._ He tells us a story about a dispute between Chinamen and Greeks before the Sultan, as to who is the more skilful of the two nations, in the art of decoration. The Chinese ask for and get thousands of colours and work hard, while the Greeks ask for no color; they only polish their front,

“Effacing every hue with nicest care,”

and when the Sultan came to examine the relative merit of Chinese gorgeousness and Greek simplicity,

“Down glides a sunbeam through the rifted clouds, And, lo the colours of that rainbow house Shine, all reflected on those glassy walls That face them, rivalling: The sun hath painted With lovelier blending, on that stony mirror The colours spread by man so artfully.— Know them, O friend! such Greeks the Sufis are, Having one sole and simple task,—to make Their hearts a stainless mirror for their God.—”

(_To be continued._)

THE SINGING SILENCES.

Theosophists may be interested in an experience which I have named as above; “Singing”—because of a peculiar resonance which I then hear; “Silences”—because this resonance only reaches me in moments of retirement and silence.

Occurring throughout a lifetime, at infrequent and remote intervals, they have, since I became a Theosophist, increased until they embrace all isolated moments. They consist of a resonance difficult to describe, but resembling the vibrant note of a distant locomotive, resounding in the night atmosphere of a mountain gorge, and partaking somewhat of that melodious wail caused by running the moistened finger around the rim of a glass. Sometimes, though rarely, a low orchestral harmony unites briefly with this monotone. Unable to find any word which conveyed this cadence, I now discover that the word “_Aum_,” (hitherto unknown to me,) does so exactly, the A sound being the opening note, which prolongs itself into the M, or closing sound, when the keynote is then struck over again. Thus the “Singing Silences” mainly consist of innumerable repetitions of the word “Aum,” distinctly and musically uttered, having a resonant or vibrant quality, and a measured rise and fall, such as all sound assumes if one alternately closes and uncloses the ear. If the analyst will alternately inhale air with the mouth and expel it with the nostrils, he will gain a fair idea of this sound minus its musical vibration.

It is, moreover, invariably accompanied by a sensation of physical repose, even peace, and a perfect mental quiescence which falls about me like an enfolding mantle. The frequency of these moments has greatly increased since my attention has been specifically turned to them. Hitherto, beyond a momentary curiosity as to their nature, I attached no importance to their occurrence; the very rarity caused them to be easily forgotten in the whirl of every day life; I admitted to myself with surprise, however, that my innumerable pleasures, my keen enjoyments, shrank to nothing before the deep delight of these brief but peculiar moments, and I applied to them the opening lines of Faber’s hymn to music.

Reading the article on “Aum” in the April “PATH,” I was startled by such passages as this: “There is, pervading the whole universe, a homogeneous resonance, sound, or tone, which acts, so to speak, as the awakener or vivifying power, stirring all the molecules into action.” I then called to mind various facts connected with Sound, as for instance, that a regiment marching over a bridge is ordered to “break step,” lest the regular footfall strike the “coefficient of vibration,” which would destroy the bridge: also that the measured trot of the smallest dog will cause a perceptible vibration in a wire bridge, no matter what its size. Moreover, the monotonous sound of the railroad, in time changes the texture of the car wheels and axles from fibrous into crystalline, with consequent fracture.

In Reichenbach’s “Researches on Magnetism,” we find this statement. * * * “The following laws prevail in nature. _A._ There resides in matter a peculiar force, hitherto overlooked, which, when the crystalline form has been assumed, is found acting in the line of the axes.”

Since then, the homogeneous tone acts upon all the molecules of creation, may not this singing resonance cause such a transformation of brain energy as to vivify or awaken it, in time, to the True, or Central Idea? We have seen that Sound, so to speak, polarises certain particles of matter attracting them to the earth, the great magnet, from which they came; it confers upon other particles this same magnetic power, as in the case of crystallisation; it awakens similar tones, as when several untouched harps vibrate in harmony when the musical key note is struck upon one alone. Why then may not the thought awakened by a fixed musical sound be in time attracted to the real source of that sound, of all sound? And as thought causes a disturbance among the molecules of the brain, some sound, however aerial, must accompany this vibration; does not my brain then answer this singing resonance with the note homogeneous to all the ethereal space?

In the article from “THE PATH” before quoted, I find the following lines. “Having taken the Bow, the great weapon (Om), let him place on it the arrow (the Self), sharpened by devotion; * * * Brahman is called the aim. It is to be hit by a man who is not thoughtless.” The “Singing Silences” are superinduced by meditation, thought, devotion: the closest imitation of them possible to the human voice consists in chanting, half aloud, the word “Aum,” over and over, as heretofore described. Do those Yogees who repeat “Aum” thousands of times daily, follow this practice in order to produce the resonance, or homogeneous tone, and to calm the mind, (as they claim to do,) by means of the harmonious monotony thus engendered? True, it fails to lead them to the higher knowledge, but is this not because the mental condition is self induced, like the delusive trances of self mesmerization? On the other hand, if (as they claim again,) it throws them into a trance like state or crystallisation of thought, is not this because it is after all, in some measure, akin to the natural resonance? The idea herein advanced would thus seem to be further supported, since this mechanical repetition of “Aum,” and its sedative power, is as the power of the microcosm, faintly outlining that of the macrocosm, (or real resonance,) to lead towards the calm which incubates the dawning thought and leads towards the true Illuminated State. “THE PATH” goes on to state that we are “led by the resonance, which is not the Divine Light itself, towards that Radiance which is Divine; the resonance is only the outbreathing of the first sound of the entire Aum.”

This constant and peculiar singing, provocative as it is of a peaceful abstraction so great as to exclude all outer things and thoughts, seems to induce a state which draws the hearer into the border lands of Spirit. Works on eastern travel and foreign witnesses, alike affirm that many faquirs repeat “Aum,” and also “Rama,” thousands of times, merely because they are told that such a thing is useful, while others do it with the mind fixed on realizing the True. Studious investigation always reveals a deep philosophy underlying religious forms, from which there is no reason to suppose this one to be exempt.

Listening attentively to the “Singing Silence,” I fall, after a brief space, into an unbroken and dreamless sleep which lasts for hours; hearing, without listening, I experience a sensation of physical refreshment and mental placidity. It came to me uncalled for, unnoticed, unrecognized; when finally a sense of pleasure fastened upon my mind, I idly accepted it, but without questioning, as a curious personal peculiarity. It was only when, giving myself up to thoughts of higher things, I met it upon the threshold of meditation, found it daily recurring, daily growing in distinctness and power, that I recognized it as a possible psychical experience. As I never strove to produce it at the outset, so I never attempt to increase or evoke it now; I should not know how to set about doing so. _It influenced me_; I have no control whatever over it. It comes as it wills, and is not subject to my command.

Is this then one of the practical significances or uses of “the word Om, as expressed in tone?” Does this bell-like resonance have such an effect upon the molecules of the human body, (including those of the brain,) as to polarize them in time to The Spirit? If there are those who doubt the existence of a great undercurrent of universal tone, described by “THE PATH” as Nada Brahma,—“the divine resonance upon which depends the evolution of the visible from the invisible,”—they will at least grant its probability when they consider that this has been admitted by some of the greatest intellects of the world, many of whom firmly believed in the “music of the spheres.” Plato taught it. Maximus Tyrius says that “the mere proper motion of the planets must create sounds, and as the planets move at regular intervals, these sounds must be harmonious.” The Cyclopœdia Britanica says, “the origin of musical sounds consists in the regular, periodic vibration of some surface in contact with the air, whereby motion is imparted to the air. The loudness or intensity of the note depends on the magnitude of the motion or pitch.” The regular motions of the planets of our system, as well as those of known moving stars, such as Sirius, may well be accompanied by a rythmical sound arising from the ether waves thus set in motion. That we do not hear it, may be due to the density of our atmosphere, yet it may be none the less transmitted along the ether waves and heard by the inner ear of those whose sense is developed. Pythagoras was the first philosopher to suggest this idea, which is mentioned by Shakespear:

“There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st But his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young eyed cherubims: _Such harmony is in immortal souls_; But while this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.”

He also speaks of it again in Pericles.

“Keppler’s idea of the universe was essentially Pythagorean and Platonic. He thought that the planetary movements were related to musical intervals.” (Cyclo. Brit.) Montaigne, Milton, Donne, Pope, Newton, Tycho-Brahe and others believed in the “music of the spheres.” Faber beautifully attributed it to the vibration caused by the shooting rays of light on their journey earthward:

“Thou art fugitive splendors made vocal As they glanced from that shining sea.”

All are agreed that the idea has come down to us from the earliest times.

Finally, if this resonance exists as the great undertone of nature, it is probable, natural and consistent that it should be a stepping stone towards reaching Spirit, since harmony and accord are vitally necessary to our progress in either the physical or the psychical world. The effect of harmonious sound on the moral nature of man has received much scientific attention in relation to its influence over the insane. The Rev. R. H. Haweis speaks of it in “Music and Morals,” as “the much neglected study of Musical Psychology.” His remarks are greatly to our present point. “What has Nature done for the musician? She has given him sound. * * Thoughts are but wandering spirits that depend for their vitality upon the magnetic current of feeling. * * * Emotion is often weakened by association with thought, whereas thoughts are always strengthened by emotion. I have endeavored to * * * * to show that there is a region of abstract emotion in human nature; * * * * that, this region of emotion consisted of infinite varieties of mental temperature that upon these temperatures or atmospheres of the soul depended the degree, and often the kind of actions of which at different times we were capable. * * Who will deny that the experience of such soul-atmospheres must leave a definite impress upon the character? * * * But if, as we have maintained, music has the power of actually creating and manipulating these mental atmospheres, what vast capacities, for good or evil must music possess!” * * * The Bible itself pays a tribute to the emotional effect and power of changing the soul’s atmosphere possessed by even such a primitive instrument as David’s Harp. “When the evil Spirit from God was upon Saul, then David took an harp, and played with his hand. So Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil Spirit departed from him.” (1 Sam. xvi, 23.) I have no doubt whatever that the acknowledged influence of music over the insane might be far more extensively used; indeed if applied judiciously to a disorganized mind, it might be as powerful an agent as galvanism in restoring healthy and pleasurable activity to the emotional regions. Who can deny then, if such a mysterious command as this is possessed by music over the realm of abstract emotion, that music itself must be held responsible for the manner in which it deals with that realm, and the kind of succession, proportion and degrees of the various emotional atmospheres it has the power of generating.

Testimony upon these various points might be multiplied, but is not the above sufficient to indicate a possibility at least that these “Singing Silences” are closely allied to “Nada Brahma,” the omnipresent sound, the vibration caused perhaps by the speeding of Light, (which is the first Divine Thought,) from the Central Sun, and in the mighty harmony of its coming, awakening and vivifying all things?

“I guess, by the stir of this music What raptures in heaven can be, Where the sound is Thy marvellous stillness, And the music is light out of Thee.” JULIUS.

ON THE SOUL OF MAN.

BEING THE REPLIES TO TWO OUT OF FORTY QUESTIONS, BY _Jacob Behmen_, IN THE YEAR 1620. FROM THE TRANSLATION MADE IN 1647.

TO THE EIGHTH QUESTION:

_After what manner doth the soule come into the Body of Man?_

MY BELOVED FRIEND: I understand this question to be meant concerning its propagation; for Moses telleth you how it came into Adam, and we have declared that before; but if you ask concerning its propagation, how it cometh into a childe in the mother’s wombe, we must put on another habit.

2. You know what is written in our third booke very punctually and at large, with many circumstances concerning its propagation; how Adam was created one Image, he was both man and woman before Eve; he had (within him) both Tincture of the Fire, and of the Water; that is soule and spirit; he should have brought his similitude out of himself, an image of himself, out of himself by his imagination and his owne Love, and that he was able to do without rending of the body.

3. For, as we have mentioned before, the soule had power to change the body into another forme, and so also it had power to bring forth a twig out of itself, according to its property, if Adam had stood out in the Triall.

4. But when he imagined according to the Omnipotence, and let in the spirit of this world into the soule, and the serpent into the Tincture, and tooke a longing in himself after the earthly fruite, to eate of evill and good, then also his Tincture conceived such an image as was half earthly; viz: a monster, into which also the Turba (the gross lower elements), then instantly insinuated itself and sought the limit (that is, filled it as far as possible).

5. And so the noble image was found in the earthly, and then destruction and death began, and Adam could not bring forth, for his omnipotence was lost.

6. And should indeed have ever been lost, if the heart of God had not instantly turned itself with the word of promise, into Adam’s soule; which did so preserve it, that its image must perish and the soule must sinke downe with the heavenly body through death into the new life, where its spirit will be renewed againe.

7. And thus Adam in impotence fell asleep; and then the second creation began, for God tooke the Tincture of the Water, as a twig out of Adam’s soule, and a rib out of Adam, and halfe of the crosse that was in Adam, and made a woman of them.

8. As you know that the woman hath the one halfe crosse in her head, and the man the other, for the spirit of the soule dwelleth in the head, in the braine, out of which spirit God hath taken a twig (_viz_: a childe out of the spirit of the soule of Adam) and hath given it to the woman.

9. And hath given the tincture of the water to her, that she should not bring forth Devills, and the man hath the tincture of fire, _viz_: the true Originall of Life.

10. And therefore the woman hath gotten the matrix, _viz_: the tincture of Venus, and the man hath the tincture of fire: understand, the woman hath the tincture of Light, which cannot awaken Life—the Life ariseth in the tincture of fire.

11. And so it cannot be otherwise now, but that they must propagate as beasts doe, in two seeds: the man soweth soule, and the woman soweth spirit; and being sowne in an earthly field, it is also brought forth after the manner of all beasts.

12. Yet nevertheless all the three principles are in the seed, but the inward cannot be knowne by the outward, for in the seed the soule is not living: but when the two tinctures are brought together, then it is a whole essence; for the soule is essentiall in the seed, and in the conception becometh substantiall.

13. For so soon as the fire is struck upon by Vulcan, the soule is wholly perfect in the essence and the spirit goeth instantly out of the soule into the tincture, and attracteth the outward dominion to itself, _viz_: the Starres together with the Aire.

14. And then it is an eternall childe, and hath the corruptible spirit also with the _Turba_ cleaving to it, which Adam tooke in by his imagination.

15. Then instantly the Turba seeketh the limit in the spirit of this world, and will enter into the limit, and so soone as the soule hath its life, the body is old enough to die: and thus, many a soule perisheth in the Essence,[105] while it is in the sulphur in the seed.

16. But that you may perceive that the man hath the tincture of the fire, and the woman the tincture of the light in the water, _viz_: the tincture of Venus; you must observe the eager imagination of both towards one another: for the seed in the essence eagerly seeketh the life, the masculine in the woman in Venus, and the feminine in the fire, in the originall of life in the man: as we have very cleerly demonstrated in the third Booke, and therefore we refer the reader thither.

17. And we answer here, that soule cometh not at all into the body, or is breathed into it from without, but the three principles have each of them its own artificer: one worketh with fire in the centre, and the other maketh tincture and water, and the third maketh the earthly _Mysterium Magnum_.[106]

18. And yet it (soule) is not any new thing, but the seed of man and woman, and is onely conceived in the mixture, and so onely a twig groweth out of the tree.[107]

TO THE ELEVENTH QUESTION:

_How and where is it seated in Man?_

A thing which is unsearchable, and yet seeketh and maketh a ground in itself; that hath its originall, and seat in its first conception, where it conceiveth itself in itself: therein is its limit, _viz_: in the most innermost, and it goeth forth out of itself, and seeketh forward, where then it always maketh one glasse according to the other, untill it finds the first again, _viz_: the unsearchable limit.

2. Thus also is the soule, it is in God conceived in the heart, and the word which conceived it was in the heart, _viz_: in the centre; and so it continueth in the figure and in the seat, as it was comprehended by the _fiat_; and so it is still at this day.

3. It dwelleth in three principles: but the heart is its originall; it is the inward fire in the heart, in the inward blood of the heart; and the spirit of it which hath a glance from the fire is in the tincture: for it is cloathed with the tincture, and burneth in the heart.

4. And the spirit moveth upon the heart in the bosom of the heart, where both principles part themselves, and it burneth in the tincture in a brimstony light: and diffuseth itself abroad into all the members of the whole body: for the tincture goeth through all the members.

5. But the true Firesmith in the centre—master workman—sitteth in the heart, and governeth with the spirit in the head where it hath its counsell house, _viz_: the mind and senses, also the five chief counsellors, _viz_: the five senses, which arise from the five spirits of understanding, as we have declared in our third booke; and in our second, and in our first.[108]

6. The soule is indeed seated in the inward principle, but it moveth even in the outward, _viz_: in the starres and elements, and if it be not an ape, and suffer itself to be captivated, it hath power enough to rule them, and if the soule plungeth itself into God, the outward must be obedient to it.

7. And if it cometh againe into the outward, riding upon the chariot of the bride, and so have the Holy Ghost for an assistant, no assault of the Devill is of any consequence, it destroyeth his nest, and driveth him out, and he must stand in scorne and shame.

8. And this is our answer to this question; but it must not be so understood as that if a man be beheaded, and so his blood gush out and the outward life perishes, this reacheth the soule and killeth that; no, it loseth one principle indeed thereby, but not even the essence of that principle, for that essence followeth it in the tincture, in the spirit, as a shadow.

9. For the outward essence reacheth not the inward in the soule, but onely by the imagination; there is nothing else in this world, no fire, nor sword, that can touch the soule, or put it to death,[109] but onely the imagination; that is its poyson.

10. For it originally proceeded from the imagination, and remaineth in it eternally.

LIVING THE HIGHER LIFE.

[_Concluded from July Number._]

Needless to say, that such vows were conscientiously kept, and that those who were not really able to do so never made such promises nor retired from the side of their family, but chose to belong to the first class of married people. This second class of persons who thus retired into the forest and became hermits, were called Vanaprasthas. They always obtained the full consent[110] of their near relatives and renounced “pleasures” and material prosperity (money making, etc.).

The fourth highest order of life was complete renunciation (Sannyasis). These were the blessed few who had, then and there, in each incarnation, got out of family defects. Only those _were_ admitted into this order whom the defects of no family could affect. Long before their admission into this order, they had, by fulfilling family duties, successively, incarnation after incarnation gone far beyond the reach of family defects. Brahmacharis and Kannikas could, after they had discharged family duties, become Sannyasis. All except those belonging to the second order of life, were called upon and did take a vow to give up one or more of their dearest and strongest defects.

Such, my friends, were the Laws of Manu. If any of you could establish a community on a better foundation, I should be happy to give up my allegiance to the great Sage, Saviour, and Legislator. As every Manu establishes the same Manava Dharma again and again, and as the Manus are higher than Buddha and other founders of religions, I should call upon you to pay all possible attention to this subject. Manu is higher, because he overshadows a Buddha.

I must request the readers, to study every word and the whole of this paper (if it deserves to be so called) and not tear it piece-meal or interpret passages and phrases in it, as they please. I must add, that by “family duties” I do not at all mean sacrificing your duty or conviction and Truth, to gratify the whims or selfish nature or sectarian views of any of your “relatives.” But I use the expression “family duties” in a peculiar sense, namely “that course and _only that course_ of action, speech and thoughts by which you can not only get rid of your family defects in this very incarnation, but also strengthen in yourself all the noble qualities of your family, and which will at the same time enable your relatives (parents, brothers, sisters, wife, children, etc.,) also to get rid of _the same_ defects and strengthen in themselves _the same_ good qualities—so that you might be born again and again in the same family.” “Patriotism” is used in a similar manner; and the article “Elixir of Life” (see _Theosophist_) should be read in the light of this paper.

The question is asked, “Has the dweller of the threshold an objective form; upon what does its objective form depend; does it always appear to every one in the same form as it did to Glyndon in Bulwer’s story?”

It is objective to those who have gone very far.

It depends upon (1) a certain thing I shall not here name; (2) the stage of development to which the chela or occultist has attained or is near attaining; (3) the mode of regarding elementals and the Dweller, peculiar to the chela or occultist, to his family and to his nation, or rather to the national and family legends or religion; (4) which form, more or less monstrous or incongruous, would be most frightful and overpowering to him at the critical period. Subject to the above four conditions, the Dweller assumes a form according to the manner in which the chela or occultist _has or has not fulfilled his threefold duties_, and according to the manner in which the sevenfold elements of the Dweller assert themselves upon him. The better he has fulfilled the threefold duties, the less does the Dweller affect him. Of course the form is not necessarily the same for every one.

Why did the Dweller appear to Glyndon’s sister, who was not undergoing probation, and why in the same form?

Because she was sympathetic and sensitive enough. The principle involved in this case is the same as in obsession.

The Dweller might either be but one elemental, or a group or several groups of elementals assuming one collective form. It is one elemental, when the crisis comes at the very commencement of the chela’s or occultist’s attempt to elevate his lower nature. This is the case when he has the least (Karmic) stamina for the “uphill path.” The later on his path is waylaid the more numerous are the elementals of which the Dweller is composed.

It need not be imagined that this appearance or influence confronts the chela only once until he reaches the first initiation, and an initiate only once during the interval between two initiations. It appears as often as the stock of his Karmic stamina falls below the minimum limit.

By Karmic stamina is meant the _phala_ (effect or fruit) of past unselfish, good Karma that has become ripened. Though the occultist might have an immense quantity of past unselfish good Karma stored up, still, if during his crisis there be not a sufficient number of present unselfish good thoughts to ripen a sufficient portion of that quantity, he finds himself destitute of the necessary stock of stamina. Few are they who have already laid up a good quantity of unselfish good Karma; and fewer still are they who have the requisite degree of unselfish and spiritual nature during the period of trial; and there are still fewer who would not rush for further Yoga development, without having all the requisite means.

When not qualified fully for it, we ought to and could go on developing ourselves in the ordinary way, and try to secure the necessary means by leading an unselfish life and setting an example to others, and this is the stage of nearly all ordinary Theosophists. They, in common with all their fellows, are influenced by a “Dweller,” which is the effect upon them of their own, their family, and national defects; and although they may never, in this life, see objectively any such form, the influence is still there, and is commonly recognized as “bad inclinations and discouraging thoughts.”

Seek then, to live the Higher life by beginning now to purify your thoughts by good deeds, and by right speech. MURDHNA JOTI.

MUSINGS ON THE TRUE THEOSOPHIST’S PATH.

“The way of inward peace is in all things to conform to the pleasure and disposition of the Divine Will. Such as would have all things succeed and come to pass according to their own fancy, are not come to know this way; and therefore lead a harsh and bitter life; always restless and out of humor, without treading the way of peace.”

Know then Oh Man, that he who seeks the hidden way, can only find it through the door of life. In the hearts of all, at some time, there arises the desire for knowledge. He who thinks his desire will be fulfilled, as the little bird in the nest, who has only to open his mouth to be fed; will very truly be disappointed.

In all nature we can find no instance where effort of some kind is not required. We find there is a natural result from such effort. He who would live the life or find wisdom can only do so by continued effort. If one becomes a student, and learns to look partially within the veil, or has found within his own being something that is greater than his outer self, it gives no authority for one to sit down in idleness or fence himself in from contact with the world. Because one sees the gleam of the light ahead he cannot say to his fellow “I am holier than thee” or draw the mantle of seclusion around himself.

The soul develops like the flower, in God’s sunlight, and unconsciously to the soil in which it grows. Shut out the light and the soil grows damp and sterile, the flower withers or grows pale and sickly. Each and every one is here for a good and wise reason. If we find partially _the why_ we are here, then is there the more reason that we should by intelligent contact with life, seek in it the farther elucidation of the problem. It is not the study of ourselves so much, as the thought for others that opens this door. The events of life and their causes lead to knowledge. They must be studied when they are manifested in daily life.

There is no idleness for the Mystic. He finds his daily life among the roughest and hardest of the labors and trials of the world perhaps, but goes his way with smiling face and joyful heart, nor grows too sensitive for association with his fellows, nor so extremely spiritual as to forget that some other body is perhaps hungering for food.

It was said by one who pretended to teach the mysteries “It is needful that I have a pleasant location and beautiful surroundings.” He who is a true Theosoph will wait for nothing of the sort, either before teaching: or what is first needful, learning. It would perhaps, be agreeable, but if the Divine Inspiration comes only under those conditions, then indeed is the Divine afar from the most of us. He only can be a factor for good or teach how to approach the way, who forgetting his own surroundings, strives to beautify and illumine those of others. The effort must be for the good of others, not the gratifying of our own senses, or love for the agreeable or pleasant.

Giving thought to self will most truly prevent and overthrow your aims and objects, particularly when directed toward the occult.

Again there arises the thought “I am a student, a holder of a portion of the mystic lore.” Insidiously there steals in the thought “Behold I am a little more than other men, who have not penetrated so far.” Know then oh, man, that you are not as great even as they. He who thinks he is wise is the most ignorant of men, and he who begins to _believe_ he is wise is in greater danger than any other man who lives.

You think, oh, man, that because you have obtained a portion of occult knowledge, that it entitles you to withdraw from contact with the rest of mankind. It is not so. If you have obtained true knowledge it forces you to meet all men not only half way, but more than that to seek them. It urges you not to retire but, seeking contact, to plunge into the misery and sorrow of the world, and with your cheering word, if you have no more (the Mystic has little else) strive to lighten the burden for some struggling soul.

You dream of fame. We know no such thing as fame. He who seeks the upward path finds that all is truth; that evil is the good gone astray. Why should we ask for fame? It is only the commendation of those we strive to help.

Desire neither notice, fame or wealth. Unknown you are in retirement. Being fameless you are undisturbed in your seclusion, and can walk the broad face of the earth fulfilling your duty, as commanded, unrecognized.

If the duty grows hard, or you faint by the way, be not discouraged, fearful or weary of the world. Remember that “Thou may’st look for silence in tumult, solitude in company, light in darkness, forgetfulness in pressures, vigor in despondency, courage in fear, resistance in temptation, peace in war, and quiet in tribulation.” AMERICAN MYSTIC.

REVIEWS AND NOTES.

THEOSOPHY IN THE PRESS.—A great many articles, both editorial and otherwise, have within the past few months appeared in the daily papers, the most of them full of misstatements mixed with ignorance of not only Theosophy, but also of many things well known in literature. One paper devoted two columns to the subject, and the editor called them thorough and accurate, yet we find in it the mind cure treated as Theosophy, and then all the cranky notions the writer could rake up in New York and Boston are called “Buddhist bosh.”

But some Theosophists have been guilty of ventilating in the papers the statement that Theosophy is _astralism_, that is to say, that the object of the Society is to induce people to go into the study and practice of spirit raising, cultivating the abnormal faculties, of clairvoyance and the like, ignoring entirely the prime object, real end, aim and _raison d’etre_ of the movement—universal brotherhood and ethical teaching. In fact, we make bold to assert, from our own knowledge and from written documents, that the Mahatmas, who started the Society, and stand behind it now, are distinctly opposed to making prominent these phenomenal leanings, this hunting after clairvoyance and astral bodies, and that they have so declared most unmistakeably, stating their wish and advice to be, that “_the Society should prosper on its ethical, philosophical and moral worth alone_.”

Theosophists should haste to see that this false impression created at large, that it is a dangerous study, or that it is in any way dangerous, or that we conceal our reasons for what we are doing, is done away with. There is proof enough to their hand. India has nearly 120 branches, all studying freely and openly how best to purify their own lives, while they bring to others a knowledge of right doctrine. America has a dozen branches, nearly all of which know that the impressions referred to are ridiculous. If one or two persons in the Society imagine that the pursuit of psychical phenomena is its real end and aim and so declare, that weighs nothing against the immense body of the membership or against its widespread literature; it is merely their individual bias.

But at the same time, this imagination and misstatement are dangerous, and insidiously so. It is just the impression which the Jesuit college desires to be spread abroad concerning us, so that in one place ridicule may follow, and in another a superstitious dread of the thing; which ever of those may happen to obtain, they would be equally well pleased.

Let Theosophists attend to this, and let them not forget, that the only authoritative statement of what are the ends and objects of the Society, is contained in those printed in its by-laws. No amount of assertion to the contrary by any officer or member can change that declaration.

* * * * *

“LAST WORDS” OF MONCURE D. CONWAY.—We do not refer to a book, but to an article written by Mr. Conway in the _Forum_ upon the subject of Theosophy. He declares to those who are honored by his personal acquaintance, that that article is really “the _last word_ to be said on the subject,” and he desires all people to read it, so that their delusions may be dispelled. In this he is wise, because certain delusions held by some people would be at once dispelled upon reading his lucubrations.

Mr. Conway has been excessively bitter against Theosophy ever since he went to the headquarters in Madras, and was well treated and entertained by the unsuspecting Theosophists there. Almost in the same hour that he was being housed and fed there, he was writing to the _Glasgow Herald_—he had not yet got into the _Forum_—an article abusing those who extended to him their hospitality. He had been there but a few hours, and so great was his penetration, that in that short time, he had succeeded, as he said, in unravelling the whole mystery, in pricking the bubble. But how he grew so wise in such short space, we do not know. His solution was and is, that Madame Blavatsky produced Mahatmas, Aryan literature, Sanscrit language, Astral bodies and all the rest, by means of a curious thing called “glamour,” which is vulgarly called “pulling the wool.” But Conway gives a little more power to this glamour than the vulgar phrase, for he ascribes to it some power over the imagination. He does not say how we are to know whether or not his own perceptions were “glamoured”; for he has the hardihood to assert that Madame Blavatsky, the arch conspirator, was fool enough to unburden her heart to him, a decaying English divine, and to weakly confess upon a mere plain interrogation put by him, that “it is all glamours.” For our part, we are led to believe, from certain information and after having, subsequent to Mr. Conway’s return to London, conversed with him, that the “glamour” used on the occasion, was so powerful as to affect Mr. Conway’s perception to such an extent, that he is willing to accuse himself of such a foolish thing as trying to make us believe that Blavatsky made a full confession _to him_. It is really “all glamours”; but after all, the _Forum_ is not a bad sort of a magazine for Theosophy to get into, even through the instrumentality of this “glamoured” clergyman.

However, as Theosophy sometimes has prophets, we hope and trust, that his own entitlement of his thoughts on the subject may not be fateful, and not be his “last words.”

* * * * *

SINNETT.—In our July issue a printer’s error gave the wrong title to Mr. Sinnett’s new book. It is called “_United_” and not _Union_, as was printed in July.

THEOSOPHICAL ACTIVITIES.

NEW YORK: THE ARYAN THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY continues to publish its short Abridgement of Discussions, which are circulated to all Branches, and have met with commendation.

At a recent meeting Mr. C. H. A. Bjerregaard lectured on mysticism, showing how much the world is indebted to its mystics. Mr. Bjerregaard promises the Society further lectures in the Fall.

* * * * *

THE ROCHESTER CONVENTION was held July 4th, 1886, at Mrs. Cable’s house in Rochester. Delegates attended from fourteen Branches, and enthusiastic meetings were held July 4th and 5th. The report of the Secretary showed a gain in Branches, of over 100 per cent. since July, 1885.

Important orders were received from India, being the resolutions of a council meeting held in Adyar, at which it was resolved that American Theosophical Branches shall form into a general American Council, similar and subject to the parent body, and thus being democratic and more like a brotherhood. Arrangements were made for carrying these orders into full effect, and soon, perhaps, we will have another convention.

* * * * *

ROCHESTER BRANCH.—This Branch held a public meeting near the end of July, which was duly advertised, and well attended by intelligent people. Mr. E. Sasseville, of that Branch, read a paper on _Reincarnation_, and Mrs. Cables addressed the meeting on the _Inner Life of Man_. This is really the first public Theosophical meeting we have had in America, and marks an era. Strangely too, it occurred in Rochester, where the spiritual rappings first were heard. The members who got it up and carried it out are not those who have become the most famous, but are a band of devoted souls who believe in the cause and are willing to let it be known. It is through such people always that the most work is accomplished for the progression of any cause.

* * * * *

THE PSYCHICAL RESEARCH SOCIETIES OF LONDON AND AMERICA.—The London society some time ago had a long report made by one of its members, a Mr. Hodgson, in which the Theosophical Society is attacked, and Mme. Blavatsky is branded as the greatest impostor of modern times. By many weak people who swear by authority, and who do not rely upon their own judgment, this report has been accepted as final, and has prevented them from giving any further attention to the study of either Theosophy or Aryan literature. We are not sorry for the Society, but commiserate those who, thus deluded, have lost a golden opportunity. The cause of theosophy does not depend, however, upon them, and still flourishes in every land.

In the _Religio Philosophical Journal_ a long letter is printed, signed “F. T. S.” in which the Psychical Research Society of America is given a warning. The writer specifies his charges in the name of theosophists, to be as follows:

“Preferring the general charge that you are not what you pretend to be, we specify:

1. That you know nothing of psychic science.

2. That you do not know how to conduct psychic research.

3. That you do not know what it is that you are in search of.

4. That you would not know a psychic result to be such if you reached it.

5. That you do not know how to judge the evidence upon which psychic phenomena rests.

6. That you do not know of anything really worth investigating in psychic science.

7. That you do not know how to learn and do not really want to be taught.

And yet you are pleased to style yourselves ‘The American Society for Psychical Research.’ We say to you, gentlemen, that being what you are, your very name is an insult to psychic science, and would be, were it known, a just cause of offense to hundreds of thousands who have reached that goal toward which you have resolutely turned your backs. In discussing the charges which we bring against you, we shall take occasion to show you that you are not in the line of psychic evolution, but surely tending in the opposite direction. If you do not heed our warning, if you do not desist and turn to the rightabout before it is too late, every hope that you entertain will be frustrated, your every endeavor will yield you shame and confusion, your goal will prove to be the pillory of public opinion, and your first real lesson in psychic science will have been learned when psychic research into your own souls shows you what it is to be made a laughing-stock.”

He then goes on to catechise the Society with a long list of questions directed to showing that they never studied psychical science, that they do not know even the rudiments of the simplest phenomenon, to all of which questions the answer must be “No.”

As this letter applies just as well to the London Society, we hope it will be read by those who are interested. The London gentlemen went so far as to accept the conclusions of an investigator who got all his _facts_ second-handed, and who could not possibly have had the real evidence. Among other things he says that the editor of this Magazine went to India to investigate “but was not allowed to see the (famous) shrine.” This statement was false, and merely the result of the ignorance of Mr. Hodgson, for we not only saw the shrine, but after seeing everything, ordered it closed up from the prejudiced prying eyes and steel jimmies of Englishmen who came afterwards, and the very drawing of the premises used by Mr. Hodgson in his report, after being falsified, was made by the editor of this Magazine.

* * * * *

From study let a man proceed to meditation, and from meditation to study; by perfection in both, the supreme spirit becomes manifest. Study is one eye to behold it, and meditation is the other.—_Vishnu Purana._

Neither by the eyes, nor by spirit, nor by the sensuous organ, by austerity, nor by sacrifices, can we see God. Only the pure, by the light of wisdom and by deep meditation can see the pure God.—_Upanishads._ Only the pure in heart shall see God.—_Jesus._

“Lead me from the unreal to the real! Lead me from darkness to light! Lead me from death to immortality!”—_Saman and Yagur Vedas, and Brih. Upan._

The small, old path stretching far away, has been found by me. On it sages who know Brahman move on to the heavenly place, and thence higher on, entirely free.—_Yajnavalkya._

OM.

FOOTNOTES:

[89] In reply to several inquiries as to the meaning of _Chela_, we answer that it here means an accepted disciple of an Adept. The word, in general, means, _Disciple_.

[90] See Agroushada Parakshai, 2d book, 23d dialogue.—[ED.]

[91] It is interesting to compare the _Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad_, 4th Brah., with this: “In the beginning this was Self alone, in the shape of a spirit. He looking round, saw nothing but his Self.”—[ED.]

[92] Quran xxiv, 35.

[93] ibid. lxxvi, 18.

[94] The Mevlevi or dancing devishes.

[95] Quran xix, 74.

[96] ibid. xxv, 26.

[97] ibid. ii,

[98] ibid. lxxx, 15.

[99] ibid. lvi, 78.

[100] ibid. lvi, 79.

[101] ibid. xli, 42.

[102] ibid. xii, 64.

[103] ibid. vii, 150.

[104] True transl. by J. Freeman Clark.

[105] This is also an ancient Hindu doctrine laid down in secret books.—[ED.]

[106] See his _Clavix_, written in 1624.—[ED.]

[107] It is important to remember that Behmen gave the name spirit to the lower soul and _soul_ with him meant what we call _spirit_.—[ED.]

[108] _Threefold life_; _Three principles_; and _Aurora_.

[109] See _Bagavad-Gita_.—[ED.]

[110] “Full consent” including the consent of all their various consciousnesses. If the Patin or Pati saw, and they ought to be able to see, that even in one of the consciousnesses of any of their near relatives there lurked a latent spark of hesitation to consent or of unwillingness, then the pair unselfishly gave up their determination to become Vanaprasthas and remained with the family until the proper time came.

AUM

The Supreme Universal Spirit is One, simple and indivisible; being all, pervading all, sustaining all, the good, the bad and the ignorant alike.

I am the origin of all. From me all proceeds. For those who are constantly devoted, dead in me, do I, on account of my compassion, destroy the darkness which springs from ignorance, by the brilliant lamp of spiritual knowledge.—_Bagavad-Gita._

THE PATH.

VOL. I. SEPTEMBER, 1886. NO. 6.

_The Theosophical Society, as such, is not responsible for any opinion or declaration in this magazine, by whomsoever expressed, unless contained in an official document._

Where any article, or statement, has the author’s name attached, he alone is responsible, and for those which are unsigned, the Editor will be accountable.

THEOSOPHIC MORALS.

Some remarks professedly concerned with “The Higher Life,” appearing in “THE PATH” for July, over the _nom de plume_ of _Murdhna Joti_, strike me as presenting the readers with so narrow and unwholesome a view of Theosophic principles, that I find myself impelled to point out some of the misconceptions from which they seem to arise. That hard-worked phrase the “Dweller on the Threshold” has been interpreted in many fantastic senses, but surely it has never before been saddled with so ludicrously inappropriate a meaning as in this essay where it is made to stand for love of kindred and love of country. That these ennobling sentiments are what the writer means by “family defects” and “national defects” is apparent from the passage that would be little less than blasphemous in the ears of any real oriental Chela with whom I have ever been acquainted,—in which:—“A Mahatma has, it appears, declared that he has still patriotism. But he has not said nor would say that he has still family attachment. This proves that he has got out of the defects of the family to which he belongs, while he is only striving to get out of national defects, some of which at any rate cling to him.” The reference here is of course to one of the letters quoted by me in the _Occult World_, in which the writer so beautifully shows that the exalted rank in nature to which he has attained, leaves him as free as ever to entertain generous emotions of sympathy with the race to which his latest personality belongs. If he had been dealing with the subject from another point of view he would have equally shown himself to be,—as I have good reason to believe that he is,—animated by still more specific attachments to certain persons of his physical kindred. “Defects” of family and defects of nationality may undoubtedly be reflected in given individuals, and like any other personal failings may in such cases stand in the way of devotion to the Higher Life; but such defects are not those which are convertible terms, according to the extraordinary essay before me, with healthy patriotism and domestic affection. And I can hardly imagine a more grotesquely misleading account of occult progress than that which represents the “beginner” as employed upon first extinguishing his regard for his relations, and going on to teach himself indifference to the land of his birth. If the extravagance of such a doctrine could be enhanced in an essay addressed to Western readers, it would be thus intensified by its author’s reference to the “family duties” which must be duly accomplished first before the promising neophyte in the training subsequently prescribed for him is at liberty to enter the “circle of ascetics.” A certain haziness clings round his theory as to the nature of these duties, but enough is said to show any reader familiar with India, that the writer’s mind is running on the exoteric customs of the Hindu which constitute the local superstitions of the common people,—a designation which applies equally to one caste as to another, for modern Brahmins may be as thoroughly dissociated from the spirit of the esoteric doctrine and as hopelessly saturated with corrupt conventionalities as British churchwardens or the corresponding functionaries in America. Some such fancies derived from exoteric Hindu thinking have clearly inspired the article under notice. In India even exoteric thinking recognizes the existence of Mahatmas and theories concerning the methods by which their condition may be approached, but Theosophic students in Europe and America should be on their guard against supposing that every thing which emanates from an Indian source, must on that account be true occult philosophy.

Especially in India, but in other parts of the world too, in various disguises we continually encounter the fundamental blunder of the mere _fakir_ that progress in occult development is to be acquired by simulating some of the external characteristics of a development that has been accomplished. No doubt there are states of immaterial existence to which human beings may ultimately climb,—at distances of time as immeasureable as those heights themselves, where such relative attributes as those which invest embodied human beings with specific attachments, will be merged in the higher mysteries of nature, which we can talk about already, perhaps, and assign names to, but assuredly cannot yet realize, or even effectually comprehend. But it may be, there is hardly any level even in Adeptship, at which still embodied humanity is ripe to shed such attachments, and the notion of talking about attempting this from the point of view of incipient chelaship is as ludicrous as it would be to talk about pruning a seedling which had just protruded its first green shoot above the ground; and suggests, in regard to human illustrations, the notion of a beardless youngster, who presents himself to a barber to be shaved. We Theosophists are engaged in an undertaking which makes it very desirable that we should not render ourselves ridiculous; and though there is no endeavor possible for us which is better entitled to respect than an honest attempt to lead “the Higher Life,” we may perhaps more easily bring discredit on our movement by talking nonsense about that grand ideal, than in any other way. We may go further, indeed, than the mere recognition of nobility attaching to the pursuit of the Higher Life. We may grant that no one can truly be said to have assimilated the principles of esoteric teaching unless these have made a sensible impression on his conduct and on the practical attitude he assumes in relation to others and the world at large. But it will be a matter to be determined by each man’s temperament, how far he keeps his own personal dealings, so to speak, with the great principles of Theosophy a private transaction between himself and his conscience, or how far he ventures to bring them into relief by devoting himself especially as a Theosophist to the task of preaching exalted morality. I am now of course passing out, on my own account, into the ocean of Theosophic discussion in general, and the sentence just penned has no reference to the article I began by reviewing,—which appears to me to be very far from promulgating any morality or even coherent sense, exalted or otherwise. But on the subject at large a few general remarks at this juncture may perhaps not be inappropriate.

The most exalted morality imaginable is inevitably deduced from the principles of occult science, for by explaining to mankind how it is that they really evolve through successive lives, each depending on the last and on all its predecessors as summed up in the last, the basic motives for good conduct are set out with far greater precision than they can be suggested by the bribes or threats of conventional religion. Such temptations and warnings, as experience has shown, come to be distrusted or no longer feared as the manifestly erroneous conceptions with which they are entangled, become apparent to advancing intelligence. Then, loving the right still, under the influence of an inner intuition they have not learned to interpret properly, people attempt sometimes to supply the vacant places of their vanished faith, with painful abstract theories of a barren duty, which take their rise in no intelligible sanction and tend to no specific result. For mere morality divorced from religion and justified by no prospects of future existence, it is impossible that the human mind could permanently furnish a nourishing soil. To provide for the gathering emergency the esoteric doctrine is now beginning to shine on the world. In the longer freedom with which it will shine hereafter, no doubt it will do much more even than explain to men the scientific and satisfactory reasons why, right is right, why the pursuit of good conduces to happiness and _vice versa_. Already indeed, it is made apparent that the highest degrees of exaltation possible for human beings, can only be attained in connection with a pursuit of good which has a still more subtle motive than the thirst for spiritual happiness—which is animated by that unsurpassably sublime intention (often talked about so glibly, but surely realized so seldom) unselfishness and disinterested zeal for the welfare of others. But even if we do not handle that exalted topic—which sits ill upon the lips of any preachers who do not at all events outshine the average achievements of ordinary good men in the exercise of unselfishness, is there not in what is put forward above in the first purpose of Theosophy a sufficiently exhilarating task to absorb our best energies? To be laying the foundations of the future system of thought which _must_ in due time replace—as the guiding rule of men’s lives—the earlier and cruder prescriptions of a priestcraft that their widening comprehension of Nature is fast outgrowing,—is not that a sufficiently magnificent task for the Theosophical Society?

Certainly esoteric teaching opens up possibilities before the sight of ardent spiritual aspirants that suggest to some eager hearts the pursuit of an object—which if rightly understood may be more magnificent still, but which, as contemplated in the beginning may often be prompted by a relatively selfish motive,—the personal pursuit of Adeptship. But in its original purpose the welfare of mankind at large and not the enlistment of new recruits in the army of chelaship was as I read its design, the idea of the Theosophical Society. And how was that design to be carried out? This question seems to me to touch a point which it is highly important to keep in view at the present moment. The Theosophical movement did not begin by preaching _de haut en bas_ an all but impossible code of ethics. It began by the highly practical course of linking its operations with one of the most growing impulses in the most spiritually minded sections of the Western community. These were _not_ the merely good and pious representatives of still surviving, though decaying religious systems; they were not the hopeless however unselfish exponents of a barren philosophy that threw forward no light on the future; they were found mainly among people who in one way or another, and following various false beacons, perhaps, were realizing that discoveries were possible beyond the barriers that had formerly seemed to set a limit to the range of the human senses. The bold though bewildered pioneers of psychic inquiry were naturally marked out, indeed, to be appealed to first by the esoteric teachers. For them above all was the rudderless condition of modern religions thought a dark and threatening danger. Along the road they had set out to travel they would certainly not stop short. But readers of Theosophic literature will not require to be reminded where the study of occult phenomena un-illuminated by occult morality must ultimately conduct its enthusiasts. The classes referred to were best qualified to receive the new dispensation: and most urgently in need of it. To them therefore the Theosophical propaganda in the beginning was directed, and this is the consideration which will be seen to explain the mystery that has so frequently been discussed in more recent years—the free and so to speak the extravagant display of occult wonders and marvellous phenomena with which the advent of the Theosophical movement was heralded. Its directors as it were, had to put themselves at the head of the psychic movement generally, in order to direct its future course aright, and they could not do this without commanding the attention of persons already largely experienced in psychic investigation.

No doubt the time has now gone by when the policy that thus inaugurated the Theosophical movement is either practicable or desirable. “The age of miracles is past,” for us as for mankind at large,—always making allowance for the familiar correction required by the saying that the age for helping on the more general comprehension of those resources of nature with which the “miracles” had to do has not passed, by any means. The interpretation of Nature—the promulgation of truth concerning the “powers latent in Man”—to the end that the world at large may the better understand its own destinies and promote its own healthier development through an immediate future, is still the ample task that lies before the working members of our organization. Again let us say that no one proposes to divorce this from recognition with which it is so intimately blended, of the sublime morality expressed in the phrase—the Brotherhood of Man. But in our zeal for the starry goal in the far distance, it will be discreet, on our part, to avoid the mistake of the Greek philosopher and not to forget the ground at our feet. A. P. SINNETT.

* * * * *

NOTE.—The admirable letter which we have printed above from the able pen of the author of Esoteric Buddhism is a good instance of the truth that there are many ways of arriving at the same goal, and incidentally it also illustrates how difficult it is for those who look at any subject by the light of their own “ray” to appreciate the view taken of it by one whose mental constitution is different. Both Murdhna Joti and Mr. Sinnett are right from their own points of view, and as they understand themselves. Both seem to us to be wrong as they probably understand each other. Patriotism and family attachments as understood by Mr. Sinnett are good things, for he characterises them by the adjectives “healthy” “ennobling” “generous.” It cannot be supposed from either a critical or casual reading of “The Higher Life” that Murdhna Joti advocates the elimination of any statement to which these terms would apply. But patriotism and family attachments may be narrow, bigoted, and founded upon an ignorance of other countries and other families, and upon an inability to perceive in other nations and persons the very qualities that make us feel warmly toward those we are acquainted with, intensified by a corresponding blindness to faults we have become habituated to and perhaps partake of ourselves. It is the “provincialism” of patriotism which breeds the prejudice in favor of things which are a part of our “larger selves,” and which is bad; and this narrowness in the case of family attachment (a different thing from personal affection), makes us fancy that our family geese are more beautiful than our neighbor’s swans. It is in this sense, it seems to us, that the family defects in question are held by Murdhna Joti as things to get rid of, and may be said to enter into that practical conception “the Dweller on the Threshold;” and it is in this sense that a Mahatma may be supposed to lose them. As we rise to a higher level we perceive in clearer distinction the lights and shades in our own country and family, and we see also that much the same lights and shades exist elsewhere and everywhere; we lose at the same time the personal prejudice which made lights and shades of a particular tint more agreeable to us than others; and thus we are brought to view all countries and families in their true light and in their real proportions. But the process by which this is accomplished is more of the nature of a levelling up than of a levelling down. The attachment of a villager is at first confined to his village; as his mind expands, his interests extend themselves progressively to the country, the state, and the nation. This last entails an expenditure of “generous feeling” which is exhaustive for most men; but a Mahatma has enough left to stretch out over the whole of humanity. Anything smaller would not be “ennobling” or “generous” in his case.

We cannot agree, however, with Mr. Sinnett, in his criticism of Murdhna Joti’s article, as to its presenting a false view of “Theosophic morals.” The fact, at which the learned author of the _Occult World_ hints, that a certain Mahatma has “specific attachments” to relatives, does not prove that He still has “family defects.” Perhaps the writer of “Living the Higher Life” might have been better understood by Mr. Sinnett if he had in his first paper, intimated that while family defects were to be got rid of, the noble qualities of the family, were to be strengthened; but this seems to be plainly inferred, and is actually to be found in the paper, (p. 153, 3d paragraph); and all through the first paper, it is strenuously insisted, that the only theosophic morality, is that one which compels us to unselfishly perform our duty in our family where we are placed by inevitable Karma.

Not only has a Mahatma said He “still had patriotism,” but He has also stated more emphatically, that “in external Buddhism is the road to truth.” He cannot therefore agree with Mr. Sinnett in the objection that exoteric Indian thought and religion led to error. In complete knowledge of this second declaration of the Mahatma, we read and printed Murdhna Joti’s paper, as we have “Theosophic Morals.” We see in the paper criticised high aspiration and excellent precepts.

There are many modes of life; there are lower and higher planes. No man in one short article can write away all possible future misconceptions; both sides must be presented, and they shall be in this Magazine. We need therefore here warn readers, that Mr. Sinnett does not by any means desire them to understand that in saying that the Mahatma quoted has “certain specific attachments,” he would convey the impression that such a great Being has to struggle with the limitations of a family, or that he has given up one legitimate set of ties only to assume others similar. Far from that. The nature of the attachment referred to, is quite as undefinable at Mr. Sinnett’s hands as it is at those of the readers, and we think it would be wise for the critic to state with clearness what the attachment is, in order that all readers may for themselves be able to judge of the full meaning, extent and connection of Mr. Sinnett’s reference, and what use can properly be made of it for comparison or analysis.

The Mahatma studies the Bagavad-Gita in its higher sense, and all through that book the “passionless ascetic” is lauded. What does it mean? Neglect of life and family? Never! But sometimes one gets out of family defects quite naturally. Yet the world says that _Bagavad-Gita_ inculcates stony hearted selfishness, even as they carp at _Light on the Path_ when it says “the eyes must be incapable of tears; ambition and desires must be killed out.” These are hard sayings. Theosophy is full of difficult sayings, just as Jesus of the Christians said his parables were. But Bagavad-Gita is the divine colloquy; and it is asserted that a Mahatma dictated Light on the Path.—[ED.]

HERMES TRISMEGISTUS.

THE FOURTH STATE OF MATTER DESCRIBED IN THE SMARAGDINE TABLET.

That a tablet, now called the SMARAGDINE, was found there is no doubt. Its discovery is attributed by tradition to an _isarim_ or initiate, who it is said, took it from the dead body of Hermes—this could not have been the Egyptian god Thoth—which was buried at Hebron, in an obscure ditch. The tablet was held between the hands of the corpse. Some authors say that it was of emerald, which I do not believe; it probably was of green strass or paste, an imitation of emerald, in the manufacture of which the Egyptians excelled. Be it as it may, the contents evidently refer to that subtile body, called by the great scientist Sir William Thompson, “the luminiferous æther,”—to that mysterious, invisible to us, something, in which the matter-atoms float, the _azoth_ of the Hermetic philosophers, the _astral light_ of the occultists, the _akasa_ of the Hindus; which physical science attempts to grasp, comprehend and sometimes use, under the name of electricity, magnetism, heat, light, etc; which is experimentally made visible, in one of its forms, by means of Professor Crookes “radiant matter” and which he terms the fourth state of matter. It permeates all things, going through flesh and blood, and steel and glass, the diamond and sapphire, with the facility of water through a net. A translation of this tablet is:[111]

“It is true without falsehood, certain and very veritable, that that which is below, is as that which is above, and that that which is on high, is as that which is below, so as to perpetuate the miracles of all things.

“And as all things have been and come from One, by the mental desire of One, so all things have been produced from that One only by adaptation.

“The Sun (Osiris) is thence the father, and the Moon (Isis) the mother. The Air, its womb, carries it thence, and the Earth is its nurse.

“Here is the producer of all, the talisman of all the world.

“Its force (or potentiality) is entire, if it is changed into the Earth, you separate the Earth from the Fire, the subtile from the gross. Sweetly, but with great energy, it mounts from the Earth to the Heaven, and again descends to the Earth with powerful energy, and receives the potentiality of the superior and inferior things.

“You have, by this means, the light (or fire) of the whole universe. And upon account of this, all obscurity itself, with that, will fly entirely thence.

“In this is the energy the strongest of all energy, for it vanquishes all subtile things and penetrates all the solid things.

“Thus the world was created. From this will be and will go out admirable adaptations, of which the medium is here.

“And because of these reasons I am called Hermes Trismegistus, possessing the three divisions of the philosophy of the universe.

“It is complete, this that I have said of the operation of the Sun.”

The reader must take note, that the fire referred to here, is not the perceptible fire, but the hidden occult fire, which is concealed in all things, and only becomes evident through a tearing asunder of the atoms. The fire, which we see, is the black fire, the other the unseen, is the white fire. So the ancient Hebrew philosophy says, the Tablets of the Law given to Moses, were written by the Deity with black fire on white fire. It is referred to but concealed in the Maasey B’reshith, the great occult book of which is the Book of Genesis. ISAAC MYER.

A HINDU CHELA’S DIARY.

[_This was begun in the June number._]

“I have been going over that message I received just after returning from the underground room, about not thinking yet too deeply upon what I saw there, but to let the lessons sink deep into my heart. Can it be true—must it not indeed be true—that we have periods in our development when rest must be taken for the physical brain in order to give it time as a much less comprehensive machine than these English college professors say it is, to assimilate what it has received, while at the same time the real brain—as we might say, the spiritual brain—is carrying on as busily as ever all the trains of thought cut off from the head. Of course this is contrary to this modern science we hear so much about now as about to be introduced into all Asia, but it is perfectly consistent for me.

“To reconsider the situation: I went with Kunâla to this underground place, and there saw and heard most instructive and solemn things. I return to my room, and begin to puzzle over them all, to revolve and re-revolve them in my mind, with a view to clearing all up and finding out what all may mean. But I am interrupted by a note from Kunâla directing me to stop this puzzling, and to let all I saw sink deep into my heart. Every word of his I regard with respect, and consider to hold a meaning, being never used by him with carelessness. So when he says, to let it sink into my ‘heart,’ in the very same sentence where he refers to my thinking part—the mind—why he must mean to separate my heart from my mind and to give to the heart a larger and greater power.

“Well, I obeyed the injunction, made myself, as far as I could, forget what I saw and what puzzled me and thought of other things. Presently, after a few days while one afternoon thinking over an episode related in the _Vishnu Purana_,[112] I happened to look up at an old house I was passing and stopped to examine a curious device on the porch; as I did this, it seemed as if either the device, or the house, or the circumstance itself, small as it was, opened up at once several avenues of thought about the underground room, made them all clear, showed me the conclusion as vividly as a well demonstrated and fully illustrated proposition, to my intense delight. Now could I perceive with plainness, that those few days which seemed perhaps wasted because withdrawn from contemplation of that scene and its lessons, had been with great advantage used by the spiritual man in unraveling the tangled skein, while the much praised brain had remained in idleness. All at once the _flash_ came and with it knowledge.[113] But I must not depend upon these flashes, I must give the brain and its governor, the material to work with. * * * * * * * *

* * * * *

“Last night just as I was about to go to rest, the voice of Kunâla called me from outside and there I went at once. Looking steadily at me he said: ‘we want to see you,’ and as he spoke he gradually changed, or disappeared, or was absorbed, into the form of another man with awe-inspiring face and eyes, whose form apparently rose up from the material of Kunâla’s body. At the same moment two others stood there also, dressed in the Tibetan costume; and one of them went into my room from which I had emerged. After saluting them reverently, and not knowing their object, I said to the greatest,

“‘Have you any orders to give?’

“‘If there are any they will be told to you without being asked,’ he replied, ‘stand still where you are.’

“Then he began to look at me fixedly. I felt a very pleasant sensation as if I was getting out of my body. I cannot tell now what time passed between that and what I am now to put down here. But I saw I was in a peculiar place. It was the upper end of—— at the foot of the—— range. Here was a place where there were only two houses just opposite to each other, and no other sign of habitation; from one of these came out the old faquir I saw at the Durga festival, but how changed, and yet the same: then so old, so repulsive; now so young, so glorious, so beautiful. He smiled upon me benignly and said:

“‘Never expect to see any one, but always be ready to answer if they speak to you; it is not wise to peer outside of yourself for the great followers of Vasudeva: look rather within.’

“The very words of the poor faquir!

“He then directed me to follow him.

“After going a short distance, of about half a mile or so, we came to a natural subterranean passage which is under the—— range. The path is very dangerous; the River—— flows underneath in all the fury of pent up waters, and a natural causeway exists upon which you may pass; only one person at a time can go there and one false step seals the fate of the traveller. Besides this causeway, there are several valleys to be crossed. After walking a considerable distance through this subterranean passage we came into an open plain in L—— K. There stands a large massive building thousands of years old. In front of it is a huge Egyptian Tau. The building rests on seven big pillars each in the form of a pyramid. The entrance gate has a large triangular arch, and inside are various apartments. The building is so large that I think it can easily contain twenty thousand people. Some of the rooms were shown to me.

“This must be the central place for all those belonging to the—— class, to go for initiation and stay the requisite period.

“Then we entered the great hall with my guide in front. He was youthful in form but in his eyes was the glance of ages. * * The grandeur and serenity of this place strikes the heart with awe. In the centre was what we would call an altar, but it must only be the place where focuses all the power, the intention, the knowledge and the influence of the assembly. For the seat, or place, or throne, occupied by the chief—— the highest—— has around it an indescribable glory, consisting of an effulgence which seemed to radiate from the one who occupied it. The surroundings of the throne were not gorgeous, nor was the spot itself in any way decorated—all the added magnificence was due altogether to the aura which emanated from Him sitting there. And over his head I thought I saw as I stood there, three golden triangles in the air above—Yes, they were there and seemed to glow with an unearthly brilliance that betokened their inspired origin. But neither they nor the light pervading the place, were produced by any mechanical means. As I looked about me I saw that others had a triangle, some two, and all with that peculiar brilliant light.”

[Here again occurs a mass of symbols. It is apparent that just at this spot he desires to jot down the points of the initiation which he wished to remember. And I have to admit that I am not competent to elucidate their meaning. That must be left to our intuitions and possibly future experience in our own case.]

* * * * *

“14th day of the new moon. The events of the night in the hall of initiation gave me much concern. Was it a dream? Am I self deluded? Can it be that I imagined all this? Such were the unworthy questions which flew behind each other across my mind for days after. Kunâla does not refer to the subject and I cannot put the question. Nor will I. I am determined, that, come what will, the solution must be reached by me, or given me voluntarily.

“Of what use to me will all the teachings and all the symbols be, if I cannot rise to that plane of penetrating knowledge, by which I shall myself, by myself, be able to solve this riddle, and know to discriminate the true from the false and the illusory? If I am unable to cut asunder these questioning doubts, these bonds of ignorance, it is proof that not yet have I risen to the plane situated above these doubts. * * * Last night after all day chasing through my mental sky, these swift destroyers of stability—mental birds of passage—I lay down upon the bed, and as I did so, into my hearing fell these words:

“‘Anxiety is the foe of knowledge; like unto a veil it falls down before the soul’s eye; entertain it, and the veil only thicker grows; cast it out, and the sun of truth may dissipate the cloudy veil.’

“Admitting that truth; I determined to prohibit all anxiety. Well I knew that the prohibition issued from the depths of my heart, for that was master’s voice, and confidence in his wisdom, the self commanding nature of the words themselves, compelled me to complete reliance on the instruction. No sooner was the resolution formed, than down upon my face fell something which I seized at once in my hand. Lighting a lamp, before me was a note in the well known writing. Opening it, I read:

“‘Nilakant. It was no dream. All was real, and more, that by your waking consciousness could not be retained, happened there. Reflect upon it all as reality, and from the slightest circumstance draw whatever lesson, whatever amount of knowledge you can. Never forget that your spiritual progress goes on quite often to yourself unknown. Two out of many hindrances to memory are anxiety and selfishness. Anxiety is a barrier constructed out of harsh and bitter materials. Selfishness is a fiery darkness that will burn up the memory’s matrix. Bring then, to bear upon this other memory of yours, the peaceful stillness of contentment and the vivifying rain of benevolence.’”[114] * * * * *

[I leave out here, as well as in other places, mere notes of journeys and various small matters, very probably of no interest.]

“In last month’s passage across the hills near V——, I was irresistibly drawn to examine a deserted building, which I at first took for a grain holder, or something like that. It was of stone, square, with no openings, no windows, no door. From what could be seen outside, it might have been the ruins of a strong, stone foundation for some old building, gateway or tower. Kunâla stood not far off and looked over it, and later on he asked me for my ideas about the place. All I could say, was, that although it seemed to be solid, I was thinking that perhaps it might be hollow.

“‘Yes,’ said he, ‘it is hollow. It is one of the places once made by Yogees to go into deep trance in. If used by a chela (a disciple) his teacher kept watch over it so that no one might intrude. But when an adept wants to use it for laying his body away in while he travels about in his real, though perhaps to some unseen, form, other means of protection were often taken which were just as secure as the presence of the teacher of the disciple.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘it must be that just now no one’s body is inside there.’

“‘Do not reach that conclusion nor the other either. It may be occupied and it may not.’

* * * * *

“Then we journeyed on, while he told me of the benevolence of not only Brahmin Yogees, but also of Buddhist. No differences can be observed by the true disciple in any other disciple who is perhaps of a different faith. All pursue truth. Roads differ but the goal of all remains alike.”

* * * * *

* * * “Repeated three times: ‘Time ripens and dissolves all beings in the great self, but he who knows into what time itself is dissolved, he is the knower of the Veda.’

“What is to be understood, not only by this, but also by its being three times repeated?

“There were three shrines there. Over the door was a picture which I saw a moment, and which for a moment seemed to blaze out with light like fire. Fixed upon my mind its outlines grew, then disappeared, when I had passed the threshold. Inside, again its image came before my eyes. Seeming to allure me, it faded out, and then again returned. It remained impressed upon me, seemed imbued with life and intention to present itself for my own criticism. When I began to analyze it, it would fade, and then when I was fearful of not doing my duty or of being disrespectful to those beings, it returned as if to demand attention. Its description:

“A human heart that has at its centre a small spark—the spark expands and the heart disappears—while a deep pulsation seems to pass through me. At once identity is confused, I grasp at myself; and again the heart reappears with the spark increased to a large fiery space. Once more that deep movement; then sounds (7); they fade. All this in a picture? Yes! for in that picture there is life; there might be intelligence. It is similar to that picture I saw in Tibet on my first journey, where the living moon rises and passes across the view. Where was I? No, not afterwards! It was in the hall. Again that all pervading sound. It seems to bear me like a river. Then it ceased,—a soundless sound. Then once more the picture; here is Pranava.[115] But between the heart and the Pranava is a mighty bow with arrows ready, and tightly strung for use. Next is a shrine, with the Pranava over it, shut fast, no key and no keyhole. On its sides emblems of human passions. The door of the shrine opens and I think within I will see the truth. No! another door? a shrine again. It opens too and then another, brightly flashing is seen there. Like the heart, it makes itself one with me. Irresistible desire to approach it comes within me, and it absorbs the whole picture.

“‘Break through the shrine of Brahman; use the doctrine of the teacher.’”[116]

[There is no connection here of this exhortation with any person, and very probably it is something that was said either by himself, in soliloquy, or by some voice or person to him.

I must end here, as I find great rents and spaces in the notes. He must have ceased to put down further things he saw or did in his real inner life, and you will very surely agree, that if he had progressed by that time to what the last portions would indicate, he could not set down his reflections thereon, or any memorandum of facts. We, however, can never tell what was his reason. He might have been told not to do so, or might have lacked the opportunity.

There was much all through these pages that related to his daily family life, not interesting to you; records of conversations; worldly affairs; items of money and regarding appointments, journeys and meetings with friends. But they show of course that he was all this time living through his set work with men, and often harassed by care as well as comforted by his family and regardful of them. All of that I left out, because I supposed that while it would probably interest you, yet I was left with discretion to give only what seemed to relate to the period marked at its beginning, by his meetings with M——, and at the end by this last remarkable scene, the details of which we can only imagine. And likewise were of necessity omitted very much that is sufficiently unintelligible in its symbolism to be secure from revelation. Honestly have I tried to unlock the doors of the ciphers, for no prohibition came with their possession, but all that I could refine from its enfolding obscurity is given to you.

As he would say, let us salute each other and the last shrine of Brahman; Om, hari, Om! TRANS.]

KARMA.

The child is the father of the man, and none the less true is it:

“My brothers! each man’s life The outcome of his former living is; The bygone wrmongs brings forth sorrows and woes The bygone right breeds bliss.” * * * * *

“This is the doctrine of Karma.”

But in what way does this bygone wrong and right affect the present life? Is the stern nemesis ever following the weary traveler, with a calm, passionless, remorseless step? Is there no escape from its relentless hand? Does the eternal law of cause and effect, unmoved by sorrow and regret, ever deal out its measure of weal and woe as the consequence of past action? The shadow of the yesterday of sin,—must it darken the life of to-day? Is Karma but another name for fate? Does the child unfold the page of the already written book of life in which each event is recorded without the possibility of escape? What is the relation of Karma to the life of the individual? Is there nothing for man to do but to weave the chequered warp and woof of each earthly existence with the stained and discolored threads of past actions? Good resolves and evil tendencies sweep with resistless tide over the nature of man and we are told:

“Whatever action he performs, whether good or bad, every thing done in a former body must necessarily be enjoyed or suffered.” _Anugita_, cp III.

There is good Karma, there is bad Karma, and as the wheel of life moves on, old Karma is exhausted and again fresh Karma is accumulated.

Although at first it may appear that nothing can be more fatalistic than this doctrine, yet a little consideration will show that in reality this is not the case. Karma is twofold, hidden and manifest, Karma is the man that is, Karma is his action. True that each action is a cause from which evolves the countless ramifications of effect in time and space.

“That which ye sow ye reap.” In some sphere of action the harvest will be gathered. It is necessary that the man of action should realize this truth. It is equally necessary that the manifestations of this law in the operations of Karma should be clearly apprehended.

Karma, broadly speaking may be said to be the continuance of the nature of the act, and each act contains within itself the past and future. Every defect which can be realized from an act must be implicit in the

## act itself or it could never come into existence. Effect is but the

nature of the act and cannot exist distinct from its cause. Karma only produces the manifestation of that which already exists; being action it has its operation in time, and Karma may therefore be said to be the same action from another point of time. It must, moreover, be evident that not only is there a relation between the cause and the effect, but there must also be a relation between the cause and the individual who experiences the effect. If it were otherwise, any man would reap the effect of the actions of any other man. We may sometimes appear to reap the effects of the action of others, but this is only apparent. In point of fact it is our own action

“* * None else compels None other holds you that ye live and die.”

It is therefore necessary in order to understand the nature of Karma and its relation to the individual to consider action in all its aspects. Every act proceeds from the mind. Beyond the mind there is no

## action and therefore no Karma. The basis of every act is desire. The

plane of desire or egotism is itself action and the matrix of every act. This plane may be considered as non-manifest, yet having a dual manifestation in what we call cause and effect, that is the act and its consequences. In reality, both the act and its consequences are the effect, the cause being on the plane of desire. Desire is therefore the basis of action in its first manifestation on the physical plane, and desire determines the continuation of the act in its karmic relation to the individual. For a man to be free from the effects of the Karma of any act he must have passed to a state no longer yielding a basis in which that act can inhere. The ripples in the water caused by the

## action of the stone will extend to the furthest limit of its expanse,

but no further, they are bounded by the shore. Their course is ended when there is no longer a basis or suitable medium in which they can inhere; they expend their force and are not. Karma is, therefore, as dependent upon the present personality for its fulfillment, as it was upon the former for the first initial act. An illustration may be given which will help to explain this.

A seed, say for instance mustard, will produce a mustard tree and nothing else; but in order that it should be produced, it is necessary that the co-operation of soil and culture should be equally present. Without the seed, however much the ground may be tilled and watered, it will not bring forth the plant, but the seed is equally inoperative without the joint action of the soil and culture.

The first great result of Karmic action is the incarnation in physical life. The birth seeking entity consisting of desires and tendencies, presses forward towards incarnation. It is governed in the selection of its scene of manifestation by the law of economy. Whatever is the ruling tendency, that is to say, whatever group of affinities is strongest, those affinities will lead it to the point of manifestation at which there is the least opposition. It incarnates in those surroundings most in harmony with its Karmic tendencies and all the effects of actions contained in the Karma so manifesting will be experienced by the individual. This governs the station of life, the sex, the conditions of the irresponsible years of childhood, the constitution with the various diseases inherent in it, and in fact all those determining forces of physical existence which are ordinarily classed under the terms, “heredity,” and “national characteristics.”

It is really the law of economy which is the truth underlying these terms and which explains them. Take for instance a nation with certain special characteristics. These are the plane of expansion for any entity whose greatest number of affinities are in harmony with those characteristics. The incoming entity following the law of least resistance becomes incarnated in that nation, and all Karmic effects following such characteristics will accrue to the individual. This will explain what is the meaning of such expressions as the “Karma of nations,” and what is true of the nation will also apply to family and caste.

It must, however, be remembered that there are many tendencies which are not exhausted in the act of incarnation. It may happen that the Karma which caused an entity to incarnate in any particular surrounding, was only strong enough to carry it into physical existence. Being exhausted in that direction, freedom is obtained for the manifestation of other tendencies and their Karmic effects. For instance, Karmic force may cause an entity to incarnate in a humble sphere of life. He may be born as the child of poor parents. The Karma follows the entity, endures for a longer or shorter time, and becomes exhausted. From that point, the child takes a line of life totally different from his surroundings. Other affinities engendered by former

## action express themselves in their Karmic results. The lingering

effects of the past Karma may still manifest itself in the way of obstacles and obstructions which are surmounted with varying degrees of success according to their intensity.

From the standpoint of a special creation for each entity entering the world, there is vast and unaccountable injustice. From the standpoint of Karma, the strange vicissitudes and apparent chances of life can be considered in a different light as the unerring manifestation of cause and sequence. In a family under the same conditions of poverty and ignorance, one child will be separated from the others and thrown into surroundings very dissimilar. He may be adopted by a rich man, or through some freak of fortune receive an education giving him at once a different position. The Karma of incarnation being exhausted, other Karma asserts itself.

A very important question is here presented: Can an individual affect his own Karma, and if so to what degree and in what manner?

It has been said that Karma is the continuance of the act, and for any

## particular line of Karma to exert itself it is necessary that there

should be the basis of the act engendering that Karma in which it can inhere and operate. But action has many planes in which it can inhere. There is the physical plane, the body with its senses and organs; then there is the intellectual plane, memory, which binds the impressions of the senses into a consecutive whole and reason puts in orderly arrangement its storehouse of facts. Beyond the plane of intellect there is the plane of emotion, the plane of preference for one object rather than another:—the fourth principle of the man. These three, physical, intellectual, and emotional, deal entirely with objects of sense perception and may be called the great battlefield of Karma.[117] There is also the plane of ethics, the plane of discrimination of the “I ought to do this, I ought not to do that.” This plane harmonizes the intellect and the emotions. All these are the planes of Karma or action what to do, and what not to do. It is the mind as the basis of desire that initiates action on the various planes, and it is only through the mind that the effects of rest and action can be received.

An entity enters incarnation with Karmic energy from past existences, that is to say the action of past lives is awaiting its development as effect. This Karmic energy presses into manifestation in harmony with the basic nature of the act. Physical Karma will manifest in the physical tendencies bringing enjoyment and suffering. The intellectual and the ethical planes are also in the same manner the result of the past Karmic tendencies and the man as he is, with his moral and intellectual faculties, is in unbroken continuity with the past.

The entity at birth has therefore a definite amount of Karmic energy. After incarnation this awaits the period in life at which fresh Karma begins. Up to the time of responsibility it is as we have seen the initial Karma only that manifests. From that time the fresh personality becomes the ruler of his own destiny. It is a great mistake to suppose that an individual is the mere puppet of the past, the helpless victim of fate. The law of Karma is not fatalism, and a little consideration will show that it is possible for an individual to affect his own Karma. If a greater amount of energy be taken up on one plane than on another this will cause the past Karma to unfold itself on that plane. For instance, one who lives entirely on the plane of sense gratification will from the plane beyond draw the energy required for the fulfillment of his desires. Let us illustrate by dividing man into upper and lower nature. By directing the mind and aspirations to the lower plane, a “fire” or centre of attraction, is set up there, and in order to feed and fatten it, the energies of the whole upper plane are drawn down and exhausted in supplying the need of energy which exists below due to the indulgence of sense gratification. On the other hand, the centre of attraction may be fixed in the upper portion, and then all the needed energy goes there to result in increase of spirituality. It must be remembered that Nature is all bountiful and withholds not her hand. The demand is made, and the supply will come. But at what cost? That energy which should have strengthened the moral nature and fulfilled the aspirations after good, is drawn to the lower desires. By degrees the higher planes are exhausted of vitality and the good and bad Karma of an entity will be absorbed on the physical plane. If on the other hand the interest is detached from the plane of sense gratification, if there is a constant effort to fix the mind on the attainment of the highest ideal, the result will be that the past Karma will find no basis in which to inhere on the physical plane. Karma will therefore be manifested only in harmony with the plane of desire. The sense energy of the physical plane will exhaust itself on a higher plane and thus become transmuted in its effects.

What are the means through which the effects of Karma can be thus changed is also clear. A person can have no attachment for a thing he does not think about, therefore the first step must be to fix the thought on the highest ideal. In this connection one remark may be made on the subject of repentance. Repentance is a form of thought in which the mind is constantly recurring to a sin. It has therefore to be avoided if one would set the mind free from sin and its Karmic results. All sin has its origin in the mind. The more the mind dwells on any course of conduct, whether with pleasure or pain, the less chance is there for it to become detached from such action. The _manas_ (mind) is the knot of the heart, when that is untied from any object, in other words when the mind loses its interest in any object, there will no longer be a link between the Karma connected with that object and the individual.

It is the attitude of the mind which draws the Karmic cords tightly round the soul. It imprisons the aspirations and binds them with chains of difficulty and obstruction. It is desire that causes the past Karma to take form and shape and build the house of clay. It must be through non-attachment that the soul will burst through the walls of pain, it will be only through a change of mind that the Karmic burden will be lifted.

It will appear, therefore, that although absolutely true that action brings its own result, “there is no destruction here of actions good or not good. Coming to one body after another they become ripened in their respective ways.”—Yet this ripening is the act of the individual. Free will of man asserts itself and he becomes his own saviour. To the worldly man Karma is a stern Nemesis, to the spiritual man Karma unfolds itself in harmony with his highest aspirations. He will look with tranquility alike on past and future, neither dwelling with remorse on past sin nor living in expectation of reward for present

## action.

SUFISM,

OR THEOSOPHY FROM THE STANDPOINT OF MOHAMMEDANISM.

_A Chapter from a MS. work designed as a text-book for Students in Mysticism_ BY C. H. A. BJERREGAARD, _Stud. Theos._

In Two Parts:—Part I, Texts; Part II, Symbols.

(CONTINUED.)

## PART II.—SYMBOLS.

The practical expounders and preachers of Sufism are the Dervishes, the monks of Islam.

It must have become clear to our readers, that the sweet and peaceful sentiments of the couplet of Katebi, placed as motto over our first part, are the expressions of at least one side of the inner life of Sufism. But, if we listen more closely, we shall hear the plaintive note of the nightingale more distinct and perceive more readily the gloom of the cypress; both of them, like the soul of man, bewail in melancholy our disunion from Deity. That, too, is another side of Sufism, which now has been illustrated, and we have given enough quotations to show, that the highest aim of the Sufi is to attain self-annihilation by losing his humanity in Deity.

So far the direct teachings as they lie on the surface of our quotations. The grand undercurrents are the relations of The Universal Self and The Individual Self. The expression “Self” has not been used, but “God” and “Soul” because of the peculiarity of the exoteric forms of current Mohammedan Theology, which the Sufi-Doctors find themselves bound to observe.

We have yet to quote the Sufi poets Hafiz, Jami, Nizami, Attar and others, but as their teachings are veiled under symbols, they naturally find their place in this our second part, and shall be treated fully toward the end. We will begin with the more ecstatic features of practical Sufism, with the Dervishes, the Moslem saints, and thus develop the _subjective_ forms of Sufism. We shall come to appreciate the use of a ritualistic service and ascetic practices, when we see these framed in close harmony with the laws of Nature and conductive to Union with Self.

Where we use the phrase The Personal, our readers will understand it as the _subjective_ equivalent for the objective “Self.”—

An historic study of the rise of Sufism out of original asceticism, will afford us an excellent view of the evolution of Sufism itself as well as of all other forms of Mysticism. Hence we must devote some space to it.

It must undoubtedly be maintained that asceticism and monastic life are entirely inconsistent with Mohammedanism, and in fact Mohammed himself was far from anything like it, and constantly preached against it, advocating an active life and an aggressive religion.

But neither Mohammed nor his followers could stem the tide of ascetic influences from the East, from Buddhism; nor from the West, from Christianity. These two religious systems had existed for centuries and were both characterized by monastic institutions, and missionary spirit. But, much deeper than these individual influences lies the power of a new historic cycle beginning about a century after Mohammed, just at the time we find the greatest number of Islam saints, with a distinctive monastic cast. The era is characterized by a new civilization in the West, and a consolidation of the Eastern conquests. The Mohammedan power encircles Christendom and threatens to destroy both Church and Christianity. In the East itself a terror of existence befell the minds of men and has left the strongest impressions in the writings of such men as Ata Salami and Hasan, &c.

Even in Mohammed’s lifetime an attempt was made to engraft the elements of the contemplative life upon his doctrine. The facts are well known. One evening, after some more vigorous declamations than usual on the prophet’s part—he had taken for his theme the flames and tortures of hell—several of his most zealous companions, among whom the names of Omar, Ali, Abou-Dharr, and Abou-Horeirah are conspicuous, retired to pass the night together in a neighbouring dwelling. Here they fell into deep discourses on the terrors of divine justice, and the means to appease or prevent its course. The conclusion they came to was nowise unnatural. They agreed that to this end the surest way was to abandon their wives, to pass their lives in continued fast and abstinence, to wear hair-cloth, and practice other similar austerities: in a word, they laid down for themselves a line of conduct truly ascetic, and leading to whatever can follow in such a course. But they desired first to secure the approbation of Mohammed. Accordingly, at break of day, they presented themselves before him, to acquaint him with the resolution of the night, as well as its motives and purport; but they had reckoned without their host. The prophet rejected their proposition with a sharp rebuke, and declared marriage and war to be far more agreeable to the Divinity than any austereness of life or mortification of the senses whatever, and the well known passage of the Quran: “O true believers, do not abstain from the good things of the earth which God permits you to enjoy,” revealed on this very occasion, remains a lasting monument of Mohammed’s disgust at this premature outbreak of ascetic feeling. This lesson and many others of a similar character, for the time being, checked any and all appearance of declared forms of asceticism, but could not prevent the ultimate triumph of the truer and better parts of human nature. “Fate” would have it, that within his own family, lie hidden the germs, destined in after ages, down to the present day, and probably as long as Islam shall exist, to exert the mightiest influence in the Mohammedan world.

_Ali_, Mohammed’s cousin, and Ali’s son _Hasan_, his grandson _Zein el Abidin_, and after them _Djaufar es Sadik_, _Mousa el Kadhim_, _Ali er Ridha_, and others of their race, were members of a family which became the very backbone of asceticism. They were successively looked up to by individual ascetics as the guides and instructors in word and deed of self-denial and abnegation.

In the Menaqibu l Arafin (the Acts of the Adepts) it is related that the Prophet one day recited to Ali in private the secrets and mysteries of the “Brethren of Sincerity” enjoining him not to divulge them to any of the uninitiated, so that they should not be betrayed; also, to yield obedience to the rule of implicit submission. For forty days, Ali kept the secret in his own sole breast, and bore therewith until he was sick at heart. As his burden oppressed him and he could no more breathe freely, he fled to the open wilderness, and there chanced upon a well. He stooped, reached his head as far down into the well as he was able; and then, one by one, he confided those mysteries to the bowels of the earth. From the excess of his excitement, his mouth filled with froth and foam. There he spat out into the water of the well, until he had freed himself of the whole, and he felt relieved. After a certain number of days, a single seed was observed to be growing in that well. It waxed and shut up, until at length a youth, whose heart was miraculously enlightened on the point, became aware of this growing plant, cut it down, drilled holes in it, and began to play upon it airs, similar to those now performed by the dervish lovers of God, as he pastured his sheep in the neighbourhood. By degrees, the various tribes of Arabs of the desert heard of this flute-playing of the shepherd, and its fame spread abroad. The camels and the sheep of the whole region would gather around him as he piped, ceasing to pasture that they might listen. From all directions, the nomads flocked to hear his strains, going into ecstasies with delight, weeping for joy and pleasure, breaking forth in transports of gratification. The rumor at length reached the ears of the Prophet, who gave orders for the piper to be brought before him. When he began to play in the sacred presence, all the holy disciples of God’s messenger were moved to tears and transports, bursting forth with shouts and exclamations of pure bliss, and losing all consciousness. The Prophet declared that the notes of the shepherd’s flute were the inspiration of the holy mysteries he had confided in private to Ali’s charge.

Thus it is that, until a man acquires the sincere devotion of the linnet-voiced flute-reed, he cannot hear the mysteries of “The Brethren of Sincerity” in its dulcet notes, or realize the delights thereof; for “faith is altogether a yearning of the heart, and a gratification of the spiritual sense.”

In regard to “The Brethren of Sincerity” mentioned above it can be said that the Mohammedans in the East know perfectly well that there exists on earth, among the initiated, a secret hierarchy which governs the whole human race, infidels as well as believers, but that their power is often exercised in such a manner that the subjects influenced by it know not from what person or persons its effects proceed.

In this hierarchy the supreme dignity is vested in the _Khidr_. This is a man indeed, but one far elevated above ordinary human nature by his transcendent privileges. Admitted to the Divine Vision, and possessed in consequence of a relative omnipotence and omniscience on earth; visible and invisible at pleasure; freed from the bonds of space and time; by his ubiquitous and immortal powers appearing in various forms on earth to uphold the cause of truth; then concealed awhile from men; known in various ages as Seth, as Enoch, as Elias, and yet to come at the end of time as the Mahdi; this wonderful being is the centre, the prop, the ruler, the mediator of men of ascetic habits and retirement, and as such he is honoured with the name of _Kothb_, or axis, as being the spiritual pole round which and on which all move or are upheld. Under him are the _Aulia_, or intimate friends of God, seventy-two in number (some say twenty-four), holy men living on earth, who are admitted by the Kothb to his intimate familiarity, and who are to the rest the sources of all doctrine, authority, and sanctity. Among these again one, pre-eminent above the rest, is qualified by the vicarious title of _Kothb-ez-zaman_, or axis of his age, and is regarded as the visible depositary of the knowledge and power of the supreme Kothb—who is often named, for distinction’s sake, _Kothb el-Akthab_, or axis of the axes—and his constant representative amongst men. But as this important election and consequent delegation of power is invisible and hidden from the greater number even of the devotees themselves, and neither the Kothb-ez-zaman nor the Aulia carry any outward or distinctive sign of dignity and authority, it can only be manifested by its effects, and thus known by degrees to the outer world, and even then rather as a conjecture than as a positive certainty.

On the authority of the famous saint of Bagdad, Aboo-Bekr el Kettanée, E. W. Lane[118] states that the orders under the rule of this chief are called _Omud_ (or Owtad), _Akhyar_, _Abdal_, _Nujaba_, and _Nukaba_, naming them according to their precedence, and remarks that perhaps to these should be added an inferior order called _Ashab ed-Darak_, that is “Watchmen” or “Overseers.” The Nukaba are three hundred and reside in El-Gharb (Northern Africa to the West of Egypt); the Nujaba are seventy and reside in Egypt; the Abdal are forty and are found in Syria; the Akhyar are seven and travel about the earth; the Omud are four and stand in the corners of the earth. The members are not known as such to their inferior unenlightened fellow-creatures, and are often invisible to them. This is most frequently the case with the Kothb, who, though generally stationed at Mekka, on the roof of the Kaaba, is never visible there, nor at any of his other favorite stations, yet his voice is often heard at these places.

Let us add that their great power is supposed to be obtained by self-denial, implicit reliance upon God, from good genii and by the knowledge and utterance of “the most great name.”

_Eflaki_, the historian, has given us the links of a spiritual series, through whom the mysteries of the dervish doctrines were handed down to and in the line of Jelaludin er Rumi.

Ali communicated the mysteries to the Imam Hasan of Bara, who died A. D. 728. Hasan taught them to Habib, the Persian († A. D. 724) who confided them to Dawud of the tribe Tayyi († A. D. 781) who transmitted them to Maruf of Kerkh († A. D. 818); he to Sirri († A. D. 867) and he to the great Juneyd († A. D. 909). Juneyd’s spiritual pupil Shibli († A. D. 945) taught Abu-Amr Muhammed, son of Ilahim Zajjaj († A. D. 959) and his pupil was Abu-Bekr, son of Abdu-llah of Tus, who taught Abu-Ahmed Muhammed, son of Muhammed Al-Gazzali († A.D. 1111), and he committed those mysteries to Ahmed el-Khatibi, Jelal’s great-grandfather, who consigned them to the Imam Sarakhsi († A. D. 1175). Sarakhsi was the spiritual teacher of Jelal’s father Baha Veled, who taught the Sayyid Burhanu-d-Diu Termizi, the instructor of Jelal.—We shall now proceed with the history.

(_To be continued._)

Please note the following correction of previous article: Footnote, page 143, August No. of the PATH, should read “Free translation by J. Freeman Clarke.”

RETICENCE OF MAHATMAS AND EVOLUTION OF THE INDIVIDUAL.

Members of the Theosophical Society and the general public have alike manifested a wide divergence of opinion both as regards the fundamental aim of the Society, and its adaptation to individual cases. To get a right view of these points, it is first absolutely necessary that the Society should be considered as a whole, and to remember that like every movement in the physical or spiritual world, it must be governed by the great law of Evolution. This is its primal Cause, and the evolution of the individual its primary work. It is not, as its history shows, an ephemeral institution, to last for a given period, like a hospital, or a society to benefit animals, or poor children, or fallen women. It is a spoke of the universal wheel of Evolution. When the world contained a body of persons sufficiently developed on the spiritual plane, they naturally formed a nucleus, from which rays presently diverged to various parts of the globe. Stimulating centres of energy which are constantly expanding through the individual efforts of their members. What is true of the whole body is true also of its component parts, and each individual, in mental capacity and psychical conditions is precisely what his previous experience, or his evolutionary ratio entitles him to be. Only by means of ever increasing effort on his own part, can he invigorate these powers.

In founding the Theosophical Society, it was hoped that the united labors of all for each and of each for all, might result in so much enlightenment and expansion of individuals as the friction of many minds, all directed to one issue, should through the correlation of moral forces afford. Hence the Society was based upon the idea of Universal Brotherhood.

There are at present two classes of persons who misinterpret this aim of the Society. The first class is variously composed of,—(_A_) those persons who suppose the Society to be solely devoted to a large phase of the subject, such as the progressive development of the entire body of the present race, or to the united interests of great masses of people, leaving the individual altogether alone in the uphill path of his own spiritual development. (_B_) Various persons in different parts of the world who have seen fit, coincidently with giving in their adherence to the idea of Universal Brotherhood, to ridicule it as “a mere sham” or “a pure formula” or “an utopian impossibility:” the wavering incredulity of every such person arises no doubt from individual or constitutional peculiarity. (_C_) Such as suppose this basic idea to be an elastic declaration which may always be used as a shield to ward off the unpopular or chaffing accusation of an interest in Mysticism. (_D_) Those who base their denial of universal brotherhood upon the very sensible rule requiring applicants for initiation to have endorsement from active fellows of the Society. “If you make distinctions you are not universal,” is the cry of these last.

All the above persons will sooner or later discover that the Society as a whole progresses through the spiritual advancement of individual members. If the individual retrogrades, the common welfare is minus so much; if he progresses, it is plus so much, and when many rise all are presently lifted as by specific gravity, into a higher plane. For this reason not only the exoteric and much slandered founders of the Society, but also the hidden and real founders have always given much of their time and thought to individuals. At the same time they have unceasingly insisted upon the necessity for individual efforts, that each member might develop himself. This is the true meaning of Evolution. It is not the expansion of the man by means of an external force acting upon inert tissue, but an impulse from within outward and upward, enhanced by the cumulative effect of previous impulses, and further assisted by such favoring environment as his condition may permit him to assimilate.

It is in this final respect that the second class under consideration have erred. They demand greater extraneous aid for the individual. Such persons, having joined the Society and asserted their belief in the existence of Mahatmas, or Adepts, or highly advanced human beings, have after a time uttered complaints because they had no personal communications from these Great Beings, while they feel such attentions to be their due. These persons have said,—“We have declared our belief in these wise and holy Men; we have joined the Society, but we have not been favored with any proofs directly from them.” Such persons require a letter under seal, projected in a phenomenal manner through the air or otherwise. Nothing short of this will satisfy them, and if they do not get it, they are likely to leave the fold of the Society, as they themselves intimate. Their complaint, in general terms, is that the Mahatmas are reticent, altogether too reticent to suit their requirements. They say that it is declared that certain other persons have received such evidence in the shape of letters, and they cite Messrs. Sinnett, Olcott, Damodar, Hume, Madame Blavatsky and several Hindus as the favored recipients. The complainants then state that their aspirations, their need, their merit, equal that of these persons, that they are, to put it roughly, “every bit as good.” Some who do not say as much, think it, and a general outcry arises of,—“Why do we not get such letters as proofs? Are we not justified in ascribing undue reticence to the Mahatmas?” When in addition it is said that some others have seen the Mahatmas, or heard their voices and received gifts from them, the injured ones reiterate the complaint,—“Why are the Mahatmas so reticent?” This attitude has finally become that of the press and the public at large, so that the question presents itself,—“Are the Mahatmas unduly reticent?”

The solution of this question is bound up in the subject of the “Evolution of the Individual.” As regards the general evolution, the Mahatmas cannot be thus accused, for had we their knowledge of the whole, so as to be able to feel and know what all minerals, plants, animals and men feel collectively, we should see that in this department Mahatmas are never accused even in thought of withholding either knowledge, favor or blessing. The whole moves by law (which law includes the Mahatmas themselves), and as a whole recognises this law and knows no possible departure from it.

As heretofore stated, the work of the Theosophical Society lies within the department of individual evolution, and just as its sphere may only be enlarged through the constant labors of its members, so every individual follows the same law, _will he, nil he_. The Mahatmas are not reticent. They can justly be no more than the favoring environment to the individual soul. They give to each human well just the water it can hold; to overflow it would be waste. It has been well said that the human mind, like the atmosphere, has its saturation point. To realise when we have reached this point is the first step on the path of self-knowledge: to strive to expand our boundaries by incessant study and observation, carries us leagues further on our way. Those who journey thus have neither time nor desire for complaint. We enter into this life through our parents, subject to law. From one mystery we pass, ignorant of the future, into another mystery: lessons are learned in each. So is the soul born into the higher life and becomes by degrees acquainted with its mysteries. Through each order of life runs the law of natural selection. “A man is a method, a progressive arrangement, a selecting principle,” says Emerson. As the man chooses the friends and the pursuits best adapted to him, so by the law of spiritual dynamics is the soul attracted to just such food as it can assimilate, to the influences necessary to its present development. If the individual mind fails to grasp this idea and to see that we ourselves, (and not the Mahatmas,) create our own possibilities, how far less fitted is it to profit usefully by the very opportunities it demands. The gratification of curiosity, the quickening of interest in personalities or phenomena as such, are not growths of the soul, nor can they advance the evolution of the individual. The Mahatmas do not withhold us from Truth, but we ourselves. When we come to be a part of it, we shall know it: when we come to live in its laws, who can shut us away from it? The upright heart cries,—“Mine is mine, if the universe deny me, and not all the Mahatmas combined can convey to me one truth in which I am not ready to dwell. The Spirit communicates itself; the Masters but interpret the vision, as soothsayers the dreams of Kings. I am a king when the Spirit exalts me, made so by the super-royal act. I will not covet borrowed robes, nor whine as a beggar for charities, but wait until I am come into mine own estate. Then the Wise Ones will teach me how to rule it.” The heart that chooses in truth this noble part, has felt already the quickening touch of the Divine. Like Jove of old, it bids the earth-bound waggoner abate his cries, and put first his own shoulder to the wheel.

Let complainants therefore reflect how ignorant they are of their own capacity to understand psychological data, and how necessary it is that they should first develop themselves in that direction. A ray of light may shoot by us unseen and unknown, to be lost in the further space, for want of the timely interposition of a reflective surface. Or it may stream directly into the eye, and even so may still be lost, should the eye lack the power to receive the impression. Thus an attempt at direct communication or illumination may be and often is frustrated for lack of the perceptive eye and soul. Shall we expect to receive these at other hands, as by a miracle, when we know well that we never fully profit by any experience which we have not lived out for ourselves. Who amongst us has not seen a child reject with impatience the teachings of his elders, and presently return home brimful of wonder and dogmatism over the very same fact which some companion had knocked into him? The strong soul must be self delivered. Amongst our number there are indeed those who have the spiritual eye in part, and the Mahatmas, desirous to arouse it more fully, now and then project a beam of wisdom which the eye fails to receive and it passes on to those who are better fitted to absorb it. “No man can learn what he has not preparation for learning, however near to his eye is the object. A chemist may tell his most precious secrets to a carpenter, and he shall never be the wiser,—the secret he would not utter to a chemist for an estate. God screens us evermore from premature ideas. Our eyes are holden that we cannot see things that stare us in the face, until the hour arrives when the mind is ripened; then we behold them, and the time when we saw them not is like a dream.”[119]

Let us then press forward to this harvest time, neither asking for help, nor doubting that it is at hand though unseen, and remembering above all that what we consider reticence, or silence on the part of the Mahatmas, is often but a higher order of speech which we do not as yet understand, and to whose golden accents untiring endeavor alone can give the key. JULIUS.

CORRESPONDENCE.

HARTFORD, Aug., 1886. TO THE PATH,

DEAR FRIEND:—I like the PATH much. I have noted many articles that I am anxious to get time to read at my leisure. They are full of the meat that satisfieth the soul. How this on-coming wave from esoteric and mystic sources has rushed upon us within the past few years! ‘Tis a veritable ground-swell, and it seems to stretch out to all shores, and its sources are from Infinity itself. Surely, that that we need, does come to us at the right time. The demands of the soul imply that the requisite supply is somewhere in existence. The glass of sparkling cold water tendered by Emerson to Frederika Bremer at the crystal spring at which they halted by the road-side, is symbolic of the wants of the spiritual nature. Her comments upon it, are in the line of thought I have touched upon:

“A glass of water! How much may be comprised in this gift! Why this should become significant to me on this occasion, I cannot say; but so it was. I have silently within myself combated with Emerson from the first time that I became acquainted with him. I have questioned in what consisted this power of the spirit over me, while I so much disapproved of his mode of thinking. In what consisted his mysterious, magical power,—that invigorating, refreshing influence which I always experience in his writings, or in intercourse with him? This cordial draught of clear water from the spring, given by his hand, I understood it. It is precisely this crystal, pure, fresh cold water in his individual character, in his writings, which has refreshed, and will again and yet again refresh me. I have opposed Emerson in thought with myself. * * * But in long years to come, and when I am far from here in my own native land, and when I am old and gray,—yes, always, always will moments recur when I shall yearn toward Waldo Emerson, and long to receive from his hand that draught of fresh water.”

Emerson drew from invisible sources, and Miss Bremer’s fine tribute is all the stronger because it comes in spite of orthodox prejudice. But I have turned off into an unexpected “path,” and my time is up, and I must end abruptly, as usual. Yours fraternally, F. E.

* * * * *

MARSEILLES, Aug., 1886. EDITOR OF THE PATH,

DEAR SIR AND BROTHER:—It gives me great pleasure to acknowledge the receipt of your valuable magazine.

I cannot but admire the great abilities and learning of its contributors, and I trust and hope that a complete success will repay you for your endeavors after the improvement of our poor and misguided humanity, and the glorification of the Truth. Yours fraternally, BARON J. SPEDALIERI, F. T. S.

REVIEWS AND NOTES.

THE OPTIMISM OF EMERSON.—By Wm. F. Dana. (_Cupples, Upham & Co., Boston, 1886._) Price 50 c. cloth. For sale by Brentano, Union Square, New York.

The author seeks to account for the optimism of Emerson by his “cheerful disposition,” and for his influence in literature by the

## action of that cheerfulness upon “an age of intellectual gloom” due to

“England, France, Germany and Italy, having taken a despairing view of life.” The cause of nineteenth century pessimism Mr. Dana sums up thus: “The root of our difficulties is the fact that we have lost faith in a revealed religion. We do not believe the Bible to be an inspired book, hence, we have to form a religion by ourselves out of the material within us and about us. It has seemed impossible to us, unless we abandoned our reason, to believe, that what appear to us _good and evil_ could be _all good_.” Mr. Dana, though evidently a sincere admirer of Emerson, confesses that he gave the world no new revelation, either in religion or philosophy, and he compares his influence to the moonlight, rather than the sunlight. But if Emerson left the mystery of life unsolved, he influenced men’s emotional nature for good by reason of the cheerful, hopeful tone of his own mind, which, by setting up sympathetic vibrations in the hearts of others, gave them a renewed assurance that “the sun is shining behind the clouds,” and that apparent evil is but real good in disguise.

* * * * *

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.—A series of articles on the “Philosophy of Religion from the Standpoint of the Mystics,” prepared by C. H. A. Bjerregaard of the Astor Library, will be published forthwith, in the _Religio Philosophical Journal_.

* * * * *

THE SONG CELESTIAL OR BAGAVAD-GITA, tr. from the Sanscrit by Edwin Arnold, M. A. (_Roberts Brothers, Boston._) Cloth $1.00. This is a poetical rendering by a master hand, of the greatest of books, and by many will be more easily understood than the present extant prose editions of Wilkins, Thomson, and others. But its power and beauty depend upon the inherent qualities of the poem, and an indifferent hand at the work could not spoil it: how much more it will be for its readers, under the touch of Mr. Arnold, is easy to see, for he is a scholar, a philosopher, and a true singer. So much exoterically.

But this is in every sense an esoteric poem, and as usual, an interpreter who knows nothing of the secret doctrine, has not succeeded in opening the lock of this great treasure box. Following all his predecessors, Mr. Arnold opens with the old old error of ranging the people of King Dhritirashtra upon the plain of Kurukshetra in battle with the Pandavas, and utterly fails to translate this name of a plain. Here is the key. This plain is the human body and is _not_ a field in the centre of India; and the king himself is material existence possessing a _thirst_ for life. Proceeding with the details of the generals and chiefs engaged, our poet simply gives their names untranslated, whereas each name is a power, quality or manifestation of the mental or spiritual man. Bhishma and Bhima of all, are untouched.

Ignorance as to the use and intention of these names is due very much to the indifference of the Hindus who, while knowing well the errors committed, have not raised a finger.

Mr. Arnold’s translation is very beautiful and inspiring, and is to our knowledge, in the hands of many Theosophists.

* * * * *

THE SECRET OF DEATH, from the Sanscrit, and other poems, by Edwin Arnold, M. A. (_Roberts Brothers, Boston._) Cloth $1.00. 45 pages are taken up by the “Secret of Death,” and scattered through the 252 pages are, here and there, other short pieces from Sanscrit. The first poem is a practical rendering of the episode in the Katha Upanishad where Nachiketas is devoted to Yama, the god of death, and learns high knowledge from him. The other Indian songs are: Rajah’s Ride, Bihari Mill song, Funeral song, Serpent Charmer’s song, Flour Mill song and a short discourse of Buddha held at Rajagriha, cast in the same mould as “The Light of Asia.”

* * * * *

INDIA REVISITED.—By Edwin Arnold, M. A. C. S. I. (_Roberts Brothers, Boston, 1886._) Cloth $2.00, illustrated. This is Mr. Arnold’s account of his revisiting India after the lapse of some years. In prose he is as clear as he is enchanting in poetry. The illustrations are from photographs and lend a charm to the book. The reader’s interest is held to the last chapter; and fair justice is done to “his India,” which is not generally the method pursued by Englishmen who detail their travels in the mysterious land. On returning, his adieu declares that lakhs of true friends are left there among Hindus, and his heart roves from hut to hut, whispering “he knows and loves.”

* * * * *

DOGMA AND RITUAL OF HIGH MAGISM.—By Eliphas Lévi, translated by a fellow of the Theosophical Society, is now in hand for publication as soon as may be convenient. It will be issued in two volumes, about 600 pages, and put at as low a price as possible, $5.00. THE PATH has taken charge of the issuing of the book, and will receive subscriptions for it. All the illustrations in the French edition will be reproduced.

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A FALLEN IDOL.—By F. Anstey. This is a novel devoted to a plot in which _Theosophy_, _Chelas_, _astral bodies_, _currents_, and what not, figure on every page. It tells of the power and wanderings, the evil deeds and influence of a strong bad man’s shell, attached to an eastern idol. There is a German _Chela_ included, and also a fraudulent message.

THEOSOPHICAL ACTIVITIES.

THE AMERICAN THEOSOPHICAL COUNCIL.—In the July _Theosophist_, it was announced that the General Council had resolved to organize the American Branches upon a better and more permanent basis, than previously existed, and that instructions to postpone the Board of Control meeting had been sent.

The formal orders have arrived, and are in brief, that all the Branches here are to be formed into the American Council, which is to be the Western Section of the General Council, but subordinate to it, whereupon the Board of Control goes out of existence; all Branch presidents and the present members of the Board of Control are to be _ex-officio_ members of this Council which the orders direct to be formed on call of the Board of Control as soon as possible after receipt of advices. Other members of the Council, to be selected from the whole body of American Theosophists, may be elected, and the Council is to meet in time to forward reports to the regular Council at Adyar in December.

This action is eminently wise, as the term _Board of Control_ was misleading, inasmuch as the very foundation of the Society is democratic in its nature, and _control_ savored to much of form, ceremonies, discipline, officers, secret reports and all the paraphernalia of an established church.

In all other respects the routine is unchanged by the orders. With 14 Branches and others contemplated, these great United States ought to stand in fair way of being soon theosophized.

* * * * *

MALDEN.—Members are working and studying. They enjoy advantages in having a few who thoroughly understand the subject.

NEW YORK.—The ARYAN THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY meets regularly. Not many open meetings have occurred in August or July, but frequent private ones have been held, and the members are deeply in earnest. The library has received several additions, and the books are regularly used by members.

* * * * *

RUMORS—are afloat that some very learned and distinguished theosophists from abroad will be here in the fall. If so—and we think our information is reliable—the whole host of newspapers, critics, and Conways, may expect to hear a few more final “last words on Theosophy.” Gentlemen of the opposition! the cycle runs its course, the terrible wheel of Karma turns round resistlessly, and you cannot stop it, astonishing as may seem to you to be the senility of people in running after Theosophy.

* * * * *

ROSICRUCIANS.—The Society of the R. C. is being revived in Germany it is said, and theosophists are in it. Next month we will give a resumé of some of their ideas.

* * * * *

“A knot of ignorance binds all men’s hearts; this, action looses and God’s grace imparts.”—_Hindi verse._

“Study all Scriptures written, near or far;

Worship all images and saints of earth; But if you do not study who you are, All your best actions are nothing worth.”—_Sanscrit verse._ OM!

FOOTNOTES:

[111] The emerald table is from the collection commencing with Le Miroirs d’ Alquimie de Jean de Mehun, philosophe, tres—excellent. Traduict de Latin on François, A Paris, 1613, pp. 36-39, to which is also attached, the Petit Commentaire de L’Hortulain, philosophe, dict des Jardins maritimes, sur la Table d’ Esmerande d’ Hermes Trismegiste pp. 42-64.

[112] An ancient Hindu book full of tales as well as doctrines.—[ED.]

[113] These _flashes_ of thought are not unknown even in the scientific world, as, where in such a moment of lunacy, it was revealed to an English scientist, that there must be iron in the sun; and Edison gets his ideas thus.—[ED.]

[114] The careful student will remember that Jacob Bœhme speaks of the “harsh and bitter anguish of nature which is the principle that produces bones and all corporification.” So here the master, it appears, tells the fortunate chela, that in the spiritual and mental world, anxiety, harsh and bitter, raises a veil before us and prevents us from using our memory. He refers, it would seem, to the other memory above the ordinary. The correctness and value of what was said in this, must be admitted when we reflect that, after all, the whole process of development is the process of _getting back the memory of the past_. And that too is the teaching found in pure Buddhism as well also as in its corrupted form.—[ED.]

[115] The mystic syllable OM.—[ED.]

[116] There is some reference here apparently to the Upanishad, for they contain a teacher’s directions to break through all shrines until the last one is reached.—[ED.]

[117] See _Bagavad-Gita_ where the whole poem turns upon the conflict in this battle field, which is called the “sacred plain of _Kurukshetra_” meaning, the “body which is acquired by Karma.”—[ED.]

[118] Arabian Soc. in the Middle Age.—D’Ohsson describing the Turkish Dervishes gives another account.

[119] Emerson.

AUM

Every period of soul is measured by time. The period of other souls indeed is measured by a certain time; but that of the first soul, since it is measured by time, is measured by the whole of time.—_Proklos’ Elements of Theology._

Time, like a seven-wheeled, seven-naved car, moves on; His rolling wheels are all the worlds. His axle is immortality.—_Atharva Veda._

The moving finger writes, and having writ, Moves on, nor all your piety and wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a line, Nor all your tears wash out a word of it.—_The Rubaiyat._

THE PATH.

VOL. I. OCTOBER, 1886. NO. 7.

_The Theosophical Society, as such, is not responsible for any opinion or declaration in this magazine, by whomsoever expressed, unless contained in an official document._

Where any article, or statement, has the author’s name attached, he alone is responsible, and for those which are unsigned, the Editor will be accountable.

WHAT IS THE “THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY”?

AN OPINION IN REGARD TO WHAT IT OUGHT TO BE.

[BY A MEMBER.]

I am often asked by strangers who have heard some accounts of the doings of the Theosophists: What is the Theosophical Society, and what is its purpose? Some believe it to be a sect, in which no opinion is suffered to exist unless it is first sanctioned by certain “Headquarters” or “Boards of Control”; others believe it to be a school for occultism and witchcraft; others think that it is a new form of Buddhism, coming under some disguise to overthrow Christianity, while some of those who do not belong to the Christian church suspect it of being an effort to spread Christian doctrines among them by clothing them in some new and more acceptable form. Nearly everyone of such inquirers sees in the T. S. only a bug-bear, and there are all sorts of opinions except the right one prevailing about it.

To all such objections I can only answer by showing to them the printed “Rules of the Theosophical Society,” where under the head “Objects of the Society,” it says: “_The Society represents no particular religious creed, interferes with no man’s caste, is entirely unsectarian and includes professors of all faiths._” This sounds so beautifully, that people who have been accustomed all their life to cling to creeds and dogmas and “recognized authorities” are unable to believe that it can be true. Moreover the objectors have heard of “Boards of Control,” of “Presidential Orders,” of “Official Organs,” etc., and all these things have such an air of sectarianism, that they seem to be hardly compatible with the spirit of freedom, so loudly proclaimed by the T. S. It is asked: What has a “Board of Control” to control? Who enforces obedience to presidential orders? Does the official organ promulgate the dogmas of the sect; and if not, what then is the use of these things? It seems therefore time that we should once more consider what the T. S. is, or what it ought to be.

It must be plain to every lover of truth, that, however great the progress may be, which modern civilization has made in regard to the material and temporal welfare of man, the world is still far from having attained physical, intellectual, moral and spiritual perfection. Disease and crime, suffering and death, poverty, tyranny and ignorance are still in existence, and although there are many organized bodies, whose purpose it is to do good and to cure the ills of humanity, still the majority of such bodies are hampered to a certain extent by old beliefs, usages, creeds and superstitions, their activity is not sufficiently free, because their opinions are not free; they may benefit a certain class of humanity, but not all mankind; they know perhaps a part of the truth, but not all of it; their charity extends over a small circle, but not over the whole world. The root of all evil is ignorance, with its children, superstition, fear, crime and disease; the only remedy against ignorance is to spread the knowledge of truth.

There have been at all times men and societies, willing to spread _that which they believe to be the truth_, by all means which were at their command, whether fair or foul; there have been people ready to force their opinions in regard to the truth upon others, by the power of the sword, the faggot, the rack and the fire; but the truth cannot be spread in this manner. Real knowledge of the good, the beautiful and the true can only be attained by obtaining the knowledge of self, and the knowledge of self must grow in every individual in the course of his development. It can no more be implanted by others or be forced upon another, than a tree be made to grow by pulling its trunk. The object of the true Theosophist is therefore to attain self-knowledge, and to employ the knowledge which he possesses, for the purpose of accomplishing the greatest good.

There is perhaps not a single country upon the face of the earth, in which may not be found a number of persons, who desire to obtain self-knowledge, to find the truth by means of a free and unrestricted investigation, and to employ their knowledge for the benefit of humanity. There are persons who desire to see true progress in the place of stagnation, knowledge in the place of accepted but still dubious opinions, wisdom in the place of sophistry, universal love and benevolence in the place of selfishness. Such men and women may be found here and there, and each one acts in the way he considers the best. Some work by means of the school, others by means of the pulpit; some teach science, others influence the sense of the beautiful and true by their works of art, others speak the powerful language of music; but the most advanced of these give an example to others by their own Christlike conduct in the affairs of every-day life.

The great majority of such persons, interested in the welfare of humanity, live isolated although they may be residing in crowded cities; for they find few who share their mode of feeling and thought and who have identical objects in view. They are often living in communities where little more but selfishness, the greed for money-making or perhaps bigotry and superstition are found. They are isolated and without the support of those who sympathize with their ideas; for although one universal principle unites all those who have the same object in view; still their persons are unknown to each other and they seldom find means for mutual intercourse and exchange of thought.

Now let us suppose that in each country a centre of communication were to be established, by means of which such persons could come into contact with each other, and that at each such centre a journal or newspaper were to be established, by means of which such persons could exchange their thoughts;—not a centre from which supreme wisdom was to be dispensed and from whence dogmas were to be doled out for the unthinking believers; but a centre through which the thought of the members of the society could freely flow; and we could then have an ideal “Theosophical Society.” Such a centre would resemble a central telephone station to which all the different wires extend, and it would require a trustworthy servant at the office to connect the wires and to attend to the _external_ affairs connected with the affairs of the office; but if such a “telephone operator” would attempt to interfere with the messages running over the wires, and to assume an authority to say what kinds of opinions should be wired and what messages should be suppressed; if he were to assume the role of a dictator and permit only such messages to pass over the wires as would be in harmony with his own ideas; then the object of the centre of communication would come to nought; we would again have papal dictates and presidential orders in the place of liberty of thought and speech, and there would be an end of the object and purpose of the society.

But on the other hand, if every unripe mind were to be permitted to have his effusions printed at the expense of the society, and to teach things, which perhaps a few months afterwards, having learned to know better, he would be sorry to think that they had ever seen the light, such a proceeding would throw discredit upon the society and be moreover altogether impracticable.

Our “telephone operator” should therefore be a man possessed of the greatest circumspection and discrimination, and while he should never interfere with the expression of any opinion, no matter how much opposed the latter may be to his own opinion, he should at the same time be permitted to cut down the messages sent over his wires to certain limits and to present them, if necessary, in a more suitable form.

As regards the liberty of speech, it would be an absurdity if such a society were to attempt to prescribe to any of its members what kind of opinions or dogmas he should express; because whatever opinions he may pronounce, they could never be regarded as being the opinions of the society as a whole; for the society as such _“represents no

## particular creed” and “is entirely unsectarian.”_ If in spite of this

solemn assertion anyone chooses to believe that the opinions publicly expressed by a member of the society represent the creed of the society, such an unfortunate circumstance can only be deplored, but will do no serious harm. On the other hand if a “president” or “board of control” should attempt to preside over more important things than merely over the meetings of the members, and if a “board of control” would attempt to control the conscience and the opinions of the members, instead of merely exercising its control over the external affairs of the society; and if an “official organ” would attempt to postulate what ought and what ought not to be believed by the members of the society, such a proceeding would be in direct opposition to the spirit, the object and the purpose of that society, and in contradiction to the principles upon which it was founded; and while it should be the object of every lover of truth to assist the growth of a true “Theosophical Society,” and to maintain its purity of principle, it should also be his aim to suffocate in the germ everything that is opposed to liberty and freedom of speech.

I beg every member of the Theosophical Society to well consider these points, for upon their consideration and decision, depends the solution of the question, whether the Theosophical Society shall end in a farce, or whether it shall be the great movement which it was intended to be. F. HARTMANN. _Kemplen (Bavaria), Aug. 23, 1886._

APOLLONIUS AND THE MAHATMAS.

[READ BEFORE THE MALDEN BRANCH, T. S.]

The journey to India made by the great adept, Apollonius of Tyana, has a special interest for us modern students of occultism. The story of this journey, related in the life of Apollonius by Philostratus, has been held by many to be a fable, and Mr. Tredwell, in his laudable work, omits any account of it. To an earnest Theosophist, however, the internal evidence of the narration is too strong to be resisted, although it is told at third hand probably with the adornments which an accomplished Greek author thought needful for the requisite grace of style.

Apollonius may perhaps be said to have been the Master whose mission was to set the temples in order for the departure of the glorious classic era. Born in the same century as Jesus of Nazareth, nowhere did the teachings of the two, so far as it appears, come into open contact, although the fame of the former spread far and wide in Europe, Asia and Africa during his lifetime. It is said, however, that although no creed bears his name, his work in the world was nevertheless immense and his teachings have, in many unperceived ways, influenced millions of human beings down to the present day.

Apollonius was still a young man when he went to India, but even then he was famous for his wisdom. He had been sent, as a boy of fourteen years, to school in Tarsus by his wealthy father, but he did not like the ways of that city and he was allowed to remove to Aegæ, also in Sicily, where he studied the great philosophers and was specially drawn to the teachings of Pythagoras. At the age of sixteen he fully adopted the Pythagorean life and held firmly to it ever after, letting his hair grow long, eating no flesh, and drinking no wine, and wearing no clothing made of animal products. He took up his abode in the temple of Asclepius, and thousands were attracted thither by the wisdom of the wonderfully beautiful youth. Grown to manhood, he made a vow of silence and spoke not a word for five years. Then for a time he taught in Antioch. When asked how the wise man should treat questions of learning, he replied: “Like the law-giver. For the law-giver must make that, of whose truth he has convinced himself, into commandments for the multitude.”

He now conceived the idea of a journey to India to meet the wise men known as Brahmins and Hyrkanians. He afterwards told the Egyptian Gymnosophists that his thoughts were directed to them in his youth, but his teacher pointed out to him that in India lived the men who stood nearest the source of wisdom, and from whom the Egyptians themselves derived their light.

His seven disciples in Antioch had not the courage to undertake the journey with him, and he departed with two of his family servants, “one for writing rapidly and the other finely,” according to Philostratus. At Ninus he was joined by Damis the Ninivite. This young Assyrian was thenceforth his devoted disciple, accompanying him on all his many journeys throughout his long career. It is to Damis that we chiefly owe the detailed accounts of the doings of the Master thenceforward. We are thereby enabled to see Apollonius in his daily life; in his various deeds and actions, his familiar sayings recorded as he talks with his faithful companion about the common sights and occurrences around them. The picture is therefore exceptionally intimate, and the man himself is brought near to us as well as his divine teachings. When Damis was reproached for writing down such trifles about his master, and compared with a dog devouring the crumbs from a table, he replied: “When the gods are feasting they doubtless have servants who take care that no crumbs of ambrosia are lost.”

A year and eight months were spent in Babylon, where King Bardanus, who was a friend of wisdom, received Apollonius with great honors. Considerable intercourse was had with the Magi; he learnt something of them and also taught them something. Damis was forbidden to accompany him in his visits to them, but he said that Apollonius visited them at noon and at midnight. Once Damis asked “What are the Magi?” and was answered, “They are indeed wise, but not in everything.” The King became ill, and Apollonius spoke so much and so divinely about the soul that the monarch said to those around: “Apollonius not only relieves me of concern for the Kingdom, but also for Death.”

Apollonius, in departing, refused all gifts, but the King provided him with camels and all things needful for the journey. When the King asked what he would bring him from India he replied. “A joyful gift, O King! For if intercourse with the men there makes me wiser, I shall come back to thee better than I now am.”

Upon this the King embraced him and said: “May’st thou but come; for this gift is great.”

They crossed what they called the Caucasus mountains, separating India and Medea. May it not be that from this ancient designation we get the name of the Caucasian race, rather than from what is now known as the Caucasus? This would make the place of origin identical with that commonly ascribed to the Aryans.

Crossing the Indus they soon came to Taxila, which they called the capital of India. It is difficult to trace out their exact course, the present names of most geographical features being quite different from the designations given by Damis. It would probably require a thorough Occultist to tell just what places they did visit. King Phraotes was the ruler at Taxila, and in him Apollonius found an initiate. The latter was struck with the modest simplicity of the monarch’s surroundings on entering the palace, and inferred that he must be a philosopher. The King told Apollonius the course which a youth took who proposed to dedicate himself to the pursuit of Wisdom. When he had reached his 18th year he had to cross the Hyphasis river to those men who had attracted Apollonius to India. Beforehand, however, he had to make his intention publicly known, in order that he might be restrained in case he was not pure. To be pure one had to be without blemish in respect to father and mother, and moreover with an upright ancestry for three generations. If without fault in this respect the youth himself was then examined as to whether he had a good memory, whether he was naturally inclined to uprightness or would only have it appear so, whether given to drink or gluttony, of boastful habits, evil or foolish ways, whether obedient to father, mother and instructors, and finally if he had made no evil use of the bloom of his youth. “Since wisdom stands in great esteem here,” said the King, “and is honored by the Indians, it is of great moment that those who seek to devote themselves unto it should be carefully examined and made to undergo thousandfold tests.” B. (_Concluded in November._)

SUFISM,

OR THEOSOPHY FROM THE STANDPOINT OF MOHAMMEDANISM.

_A Chapter from a MS. work designed as a text book for Students in Mysticism._

BY C. H. A. BJERREGAARD, _Stud. Theos._

In Two Parts:—Part I, Texts; Part II, Symbols.

(CONTINUED.)

## PART II.—SYMBOLS.

The practical expounder and preachers of Sufism are the Dervishes, the monks of Islam.

_Zaous Abou Add er-Rahman_, of Persian origin, but born in Yemen, led the way. He had passed his early youth in the society of Zein el Abidin, the son of Hasan, and grandson of Ali, and the first of that family who in life and writing professed the mystical ideas and austere practices, which ever afterwards distinguished the race. Abou-Horeirah, the devoutest of Mohammed’s own companions, and Ebn Abbas were also his masters. He took up his abode at Mecca, the centre of religious feeling, and soon Zaous’ influence began to appear among the crowd of pilgrims from all parts of the Mohammedan empire; they began to imitate his long prayers, his fasts, and extreme poverty, and above all his open contempt for all worldly dignity and rank, and many adopted the peculiarity of his dress, the long and patched garment and the high woollen cap, both of which later became so characteristic of the Sufi.

One of his most distinguished followers was _Hasan Yesar_, like Zaous, of Persian origin, but born in Arabia, in Medinah. Having received his liberty (he was born after his mother had become a slave of Omm Salma, one of the numerous wives of the Prophet), he retired to Basra, on the Persian Gulf, a town known for its attachment to the family of Ali and their doctrines, and henceforth a stronghold of the ascetic sect. His life proved the truth and strength of his doctrines, and Basra was now their headquarters.

_Malik Ebn Dinar_, a Persian, and a slave by birth, known for his love of manual labor, poverty and humility, next appears as chief among the ascetics of his age.

_Omar Abou Othman_, was a disciple of Hasan Yesar and also an inhabitant of Basra. Hasan Yesar described him as one worthy of angels and prophets for preceptors and guides, one who never exhorted save to what he had first put in practice, nor deterred from anything except what he himself inviolably abstained from. He was a vigorous asserter of man’s free-will.

About the same time _Omar Abou Durr_ at Coufa and _Sofein Abou Abd Allah_ displayed similar examples of austerity and virtue, and so did _Hammad Abou Ismail_, son of the celebrated Abou Hanifah, Abd Allah Meroujï, and _Mohammed Ebn es Semmak_.

But whether at Mecca or at Basra, the various ascetics already mentioned, and the many not mentioned; whatever personal influence they exercised, and virtues they possessed, they did not form a particular and distinct association or brotherhood. No common rule united them, nor did they group themselves around any superior or chief, as yet.

But the next prominent man among them was not only a remarkable man as an ascetic, but also the father and founder of all the numerous Dervish family. His name was _Fodheil Abou Ali Zalikani_. He was born of Persian parents and spent his youth as a highway robber. One night he had scaled the walls of a house where the girl of whom he was enamored dwelt, and concealed on the roof, awaited the moment to descend and gratify his passion. But while thus occupied he heard a voice repeating the well-known verse of the Quran: “Is it not high time for those who believe to open their hearts to compunction?” “Lord, it is high time indeed,” replied Fodheil; and leaving the house, as well as his evil design, he retired to a half-ruined caravansarai not far off, there to pass the rest of the night. Several travellers were at the moment lodged in the caravansarai, and, concealed by the darkness, he overheard their conversation: “Let us start on our journey,” said one; and the others answered: “Let us wait till morning, for the robber Fodheil is out on the roads.” This completed the conversion of the already repentant highwayman. He advanced towards the travellers, and, discovering himself to them, assured them that henceforth neither they nor any others should have aught to fear from him. He then stripped himself of his weapons and worldly gear, put on a patched and tattered garment, and passed the rest of his life in wandering from place to place, in the severest penitence and in extreme poverty, sometimes alone, sometimes with numerous disciples, whom he took under his direction, and formed into a strict and organized brotherhood. But with all his austerity of life, his prolonged fasts and watchings, his ragged dress and wearisome pilgrimages, he preferred the practice of interior virtue and purity of intention to all outward observances, and used often to say that “he who is modest and compliant to others, and lives in meekness and patience, gains a higher reward by so doing than if he fasted all his days, and watched in prayer all his nights.” At so high a price did he place obedience to a spiritual guide, and so necessary did he deem it, that he declared: “Had I a promise of whatever I should ask in prayer, yet would I not offer that prayer save in union with a superior.” But his favorite virtue was the love of God in perfect conformity to his will, above all hope and fear. Thus when his only son—whose virtues resembled his father’s—died in early age, Fodheil was seen with a countenance of unusual cheerfulness; and being asked by his intimate disciple Ragi Abou Ali, afterwards Kadhi of the town of Rei, the reason therefor, he answered: “It was God’s good pleasure, and it is therefore my good pleasure also.” We must notice one more of his famous sentences: “Much is he beguiled who serves God from fear or hope, for this true service is for mere love;” and, speaking of himself: “I serve God because I cannot help serving Him for very love’s sake.”

Fodheil died in the year 187 of the Hegira. His disciple was _Ibrahim Ebn Adhem_, son of noble parents and also a Persian by birth, and he is an example upon the forbearance under injury and reluctance to have their right manifested, so prominent amongst the disciples of Fodheil.

After the death of Fodheil the supreme direction of the brotherhood was vested in _Bishar el Hafi_, a native of Meron and inhabitant of Bagdad. When young he had, like Fodheil, led a reckless life, till one day walking in the streets he saw written on a piece of paper, torn and trampled on by the feet of the passers-by, the name of God. He picked it up and, having cleaned it to the best of his ability, took it home and placed it out of the reach of further profanation. The same night he heard a voice saying to him; “Bishar, thou has honoured my name. I will accordingly render thy name honourable in this world and in that to come.” He awoke from sleep a changed man, and began a new life of penance and virtue. The name Hafi signifies _barefoot_. He walked barefooted. His greatest trial was from the veneration of man: “O God,” he used to say, “save me from this honour, the requital of which may perchance be confusion in another life.”

Our space forbids us to dwell upon the Egyptian ascetics who helped to lay the foundation for the future Sufism. We pass by them and dwell mainly with the Persian representatives.

About this time—the beginning of the fourth century—two events occurred of greatest importance in the history we are narrating. The Samanide princes had gained ascendency in the empire over the Abbaside Caliphs. All the princes of the Samanide race were remarkable for their piety and patronage of learning. _Nasser Ebn Ahmed_, signalized himself by his love of retirement and religious meditation. He founded an oratory at Bokhara which soon became the resort of the now numerous ascetics, and soon other similar institutions arose throughout the country and _the dervishes of the East now took on them their permanent name and manner of life_.

The other event which characterized this era was the outbreak of open heterodoxy among the ascetics. Hitherto they had concealed their tenets and practices, opposed as they were to the prevailing system, much after the fashion of Ali Zein el Abidin, grandson of the famous Ali, grand-master of the secret order:

“Above all things I conceal the precious jewel of my knowledge, Lest the uninitiated should behold it, and be bewildered; Ah, how many a rare jewel of this kind, should I openly display it, Men would say to me: ‘Thou art one of the worshippers of idols;’ And Zealous Muslims would set my blood at price, Deeming the worst of crimes an acceptable and virtuous action.”

After these ascetics had learned their strength from their union they began to take part in politics and worked zealously with that party that wished to overthrow the family and religion of Mohammed and place Ali and mysticism in their stead. They accordingly soon had martyrs in their ranks. Thus died at Bagdad the famous _Hosain Abou Meghith el Halladj_. To his school belonged the three giants of learning and piety: Abd-el-Kadir el Ghilani, Mohi ed Din Ebn-Aarabi el Moghrebi, and Omar Ebn el Faridh. We pen a few of his words:

“I am He whom I love, and He whom I love is I; We are two spirits, inhabiting one outward frame: And when you behold me, you behold Him, And when you behold Him, you behold us twain.”

He taught the freedom of the human will and wrote the following satire on the predestinarian system of Islam:

“What can man do, if the decrees of predestination surround him, Binding him in his every state? answer me, O learned professor. He (_i. e._, as if He, that is God) cast him into the ocean, bound hand and foot, and then said to him, Woe to you, woe to you, should you get wet with the water.”

He it is who thus in his verse addresses God:

“I love Thee with a twofold love, the love of friendship, And the love grounded on this alone, that Thou art worthy of it. But as to that my love which is the love of friendship, It is a love which leaves me no thought for any save Thee; And as to the love of Thee according to Thy worthiness, O raise from betwixt us the vail, that I may behold Thee. Nor is any praise due to me either for this or for that (love), But to Thee alone the praise both for this and that.”

Halladj’s three famous disciples gave their names to the three principal brotherhoods among the Mohammedans, and their work remains to this day.

_Abd-el-Kadir el Ghilani_ was a Persian by birth and resided at Bagdad. Nobody doubted that he was the Kothb of his time, and as such he announced himself in his ecstatic state, though ordinarily he strove to conceal himself under the veil of a mean and despicable appearance. He founded the order of the Qadiriyah which association counted in its ranks some of the greatest names among Eastern mystics and poets. The doctrine of the order was that of Hosein el Halladj, whom he taught the order to look upon as their master, though their doctrine was commonly veiled under a seemingly orthodox terminology. They subsist to this day and are counted among the most prominent.

M. D’hosson in his celebrated work on the Ottoman empire traces the origin of the Faquirs to the time of Mohammed in the following manner: In the first year of the Hegira, forty-five citizens of Mecca joined themselves to many others from Medina. They took an oath of fidelity to the doctrines of their Prophet, and formed a sect or fraternity, the object of which was to establish among themselves a community of property, and to perform every day certain religious practices in a spirit of penitence and mortification. To distinguish themselves from other Mohammedans, they took the name of Sufis. This name, which later was attributed to the most zealous partizans of Islam, is the same still in use to indicate any Muselman who retires from the world to study, to lead a life of pious contemplation, and to follow the most painful exercises of an exaggerated devotion. To the name of Sufi they added also that of Faquir, because their maxim was to renounce the goods of the earth, and to live in an entire abnegation of all worldly enjoyments, following thereby the words of the Prophet: “Poverty is my pride.” Following their example, _Abu Bakr and Ali_ established, even during the lifetime of the Prophet and under his own eyes, religious orders, over which each presided, with Zikrs or peculiar religious exercises, established by them separately, and a vow taken by each of the voluntary disciples forming them. On his decease, Abu Bakr made over his office of president to one _Salmann l-Farisi_, and Ali to _al-Hasann l-Basri_, and each of these charges were consecrated under the title of _Khalifah_, or successor. The two first successors followed the example of the Khalifahs of Islam, and transmitted it to their successors, and these in turn to others, the most aged and venerable of their fraternity. Some among them, led by the delirium of the imagination, wandered away from the primitive rules of their society, and converted, from time to time, these fraternities into a multitude of religious orders. * * * It was about A. H. 49 (A. D. 766) that the Shaikh Alwan, a mystic renowned for his religious fervor, founded the first regular order of the Faquirs, now known as the Alwaniyah.

The Bastamiyah, the Nagshbandiyah, and the Bakhtashiyah descend from the original order established by Abu Bakr. All the others come from Ali.

THE FAQUIRS OR DERVISHES.

The Arabic word _Faqir_ signifies _poor_, poor in the sense of being in need of mercy, poor in the sight of God. The Persian equivalent _Darvish_ is derived from _dar_ “a door”—those who “beg from door to door.”

The dervishes are, as stated before, the _practical_ expounders of Mohammedanism. They are divided into two great classes, the _ba Shara_ (with the law), or those who govern their conduct according to the principles of Islam: and the _be Shara_ (without the law), or those who do not rule their lives according to the formal principles of any religious creed, although they call themselves Muslims. To the latter, the Sufis principally belong. These Faquirs are called either _Azad_, the free, or _Majnub_, the absorbed. The former shave their beards, whiskers, eyebrows, etc., and live a life of celibacy.

Every school and every brotherhood has its own distinctive teachings and technicalities, and its peculiar practices and observances, its saints and doctors, great men and founders.

A student will also readily discover a different character in Arabic and Persian Sufism. The Arabic being nearer to Christianity takes up much from it, but moulds it in its peculiar way; the Persian being nearer the traditions of Zoroaster and in immediate contact with Manechaism, naturally borrows from thence. Thus the “pantheistic” tendencies, such as Divine absorption, universal manifestation of the Deity under the seeming appearances of limited forms, the final return of all things to the unity of God, a tendency to regard matter as evil, the reprobation of marriage, etc.—these were ideas that rose from Persian soil, while the ideas of a radiant Divinity mediating between the supreme fountain-head of Being and the created world; of an all-prevading Spirit of love; of detachment from the world; of poverty, humility, etc., were more akin to Christian belief.

Still Saadis’ description applies to all: “The outward tokens of a dervish are a patched garment and a shaven head; and the inward signs, those of being alive in the spirit, and dead in the flesh:—‘not he who will sit apart from his fellow-creatures at the door of supplication with God; and, if he shall reject his prayer, will stand up in disobedience; or if a millstone come rolling down a mountain, he is not intelligent in the ways of providence, that would rise to avoid it.’

“The ritual of the Dervishes is gratitude and praise, worship and obedience, contentment and charity, and a belief in the unity and providence of God, having a reliance on and being resigned to his will, confident of his favour, and forbearant of all: whosoever is endowed with these qualifications is in truth a dervish, notwithstanding he be arrayed in gorgeous apparel: whereas, the irreligious and hypocritical vainboaster, sensualist, and whoremonger, who turn days into nights in his slavish indulgences, and converts nights into days in his dreams of forgetfulness; who eats whatever falls in his way, and speaks whatever comes uppermost, is a profligate, though clothed in the sackcloth of a saint.——”

The dervishes differ, says A. Vambery,[120] from each other only by the manner in which they demonstrate their enthusiasm; still the more we penetrate towards the East, the greater is the purity with which they have been preserved. In Persia the dervishes play a much more important part than in Turkey, and in Central Asia, isolated as it has been from the rest of the world for centuries, this fraternity is still in full vigor, and exercises a great influence upon society.

According to A. Vambery, the _Bektashi_, _Mevlevi_, and _Rufai_ orders are principally found in Turkey; the _Kadrie_ and _Djelali_ in Arabia; the _Oveisi_ and the _Nurbakhchi Nimetullahi_ in Persia; the _Khilali_ and _Zahibi_ in India, and the _Nakishbendi_ and _Sofi_ (a recent order) in Central Asia.

According to Th. P. Hughes[121] the following are the chief orders of Faqirs met with in North India: (1) The _Naqshbandia_, the followers of Khwajah Pir Mohammed Naqshband, and are a very numerous sect; they usually perform the Zikr-i-Khafi[122] or the silent devotion. (2) The _Qadiria_ sprung from the celebrated Sayyid Abdul Qadir, surnamed Pir Dustagir, whose shrine is at Bagdad. They practice both forms of the Zikr. Most of the Sunni Moulavis of the north-west frontier of India are members of this order. In Egypt it is most popular among the fisherman. (3) The _Chishtia_ are followers of Banda Nawaz, whose shrine is at Calburgah; they are partial to vocal music, for the founder of the order remarked, that singing was the food and support of the soul. They perform the Zikr-i-Jali. (4) The _Jalalia_ founded by Sayyid Jalal-ud-din of Bokhara; they are met with in Central Asia. Religious mendicants are often of this order. (5) The _Sarwardia_ are popular in Afganistan and comprise many learned men. They are the followers of Hasan Bisri of Basra, near Bagdad. These five are all ba-Shara Faqirs.

The be-Shara Faqirs are very numerous. The most popular order is that of the _Mudaria_, founded by Zinda Shah Murdar of Syria, whose shrine is at Mukanpur, in Oudh. From these have sprung the _Malang_ Faqirs who crowd the bazaars of India. They wear their hair matted or tied in a knot. The _Rafia_ order is also a numerous one in some parts of India. They practice the most severe discipline and mortify themselves by scourging.

The secrets of the dervish orders cannot be learned. An initiation is described in Lane’s Society is the Middle Ages and the following is another.

The following is the account of the admission of Tewekkul Bêg into the order of the Qadiriyahfaqirs, one of the four most prominent ones, by Moolla Shah, a Saint and poet of some celebrity, who died in the year of the Hegira 1072 (1661-62 of our era), at Lahore, where his shrine was reared by the Princess Fatima, daughter of Shah-Jihan. Tewekkul is himself the narrator:

“Having been introduced, by means of Akhônd Mollâ Mohammed Say’d into the intimate circle of Mollâ Shah, my heart through frequent intercourse with the Sheikh was filled with a burning desire of reaching the sublime goal [of the mystical science], and I no longer found sleep by night nor rest by day * * I passed the whole of that night without being able to shut my eyes, and betook myself to reciting a hundred thousand times the one hundred and twelfth chapter of the Qoran. I accomplished this in several days. It is well known that in this chapter of the Qoran the great Name of God is contained, and that through the power of that Name, whoever recites it a hundred thousand times may obtain all that he desires. I conceived then the wish that the Master should bestow his affection upon me. And, in fact, I convinced myself of the efficacy of this means, for hardly had I finished the hundred thousandth recitation of this chapter of the book of God, when the heart of the Master was filled with sympathy for me, and he gave order to Senghin Mohammed, his vicar, to conduct me on the following night to his presence. During that whole night he concentrated his mind upon me, while I directed my meditation upon my own heart; but the knot of my heart was not unloosed. So passed three nights, during which he made me the object of his spiritual attention, without any result being manifested. On the fourth night Mollâ Shâh said, ‘This night Mollâ Senghin and Sâlih Bêg, who are both very susceptible to ecstatic emotions, will direct their whole mind upon the neophyte.’ They obeyed this order, while I remained seated the whole night, my face turned towards Mecca, at the same time concentrating all my mental faculties upon my own heart. Towards daybreak, a little light and brightness came into my heart, but I could distinguish neither form nor color. After morning prayer I presented myself, and the two persons I have just mentioned, before the Master who saluted me and asked them what they had done to me. They replied: ‘Ask him, himself.’ Then, addressing me, he told me to relate to him my impressions. I said that I had seen a brightness in my heart; whereupon the Sheikh became animated, and said to me: ‘Thy heart contains an infinity of colors, but it is become so dark that the looks of these two crocodiles of the infinite ocean [the mystic science] have not availed to bestow upon it either brightness or clearness; the moment is come when I myself will show thee how it is enlightened.’ With these words he made me sit in front of him, while my senses were, so to speak, inebriated, and ordered me to reproduce within me his appearance. Then, having blindfolded me, he bade me concentrate all my mental faculties upon my heart. I obeyed, and in an instant, by the divine favor and the spiritual assistance of the Sheikh, my heart was opened. I saw then within me something like a cup, turned upside down; and this object having been turned up again, a feeling of illimitable happiness filled my whole being. I said to the Master, ‘This cell, where I am sitting before you—I see a faithful reproduction of it within me, and it seems as if another Téwekkul Bêg were seated before another Mollâ Shâh.‘ He answered, ‘It is well; the first vision which presents itself to thy view is the figure of the Master.’ * * * He next bade me uncover my eyes, which I did, and I then saw him, by the material organ of vision, seated in front of me. Again he made me bandage them, and I perceived him by my spiritual vision, seated in front of me just the same. Full of wonder I cried out, ‘O my Master, whether I look with my bodily eyes or my spiritual vision, it is always you that I see.’ Meanwhile I saw advance towards me a dazzling figure, and upon my telling the Master of it, he bade me ask the apparition its name. In my spirit I put to it that question, and the figure answered me by the voice of the heart, ‘My name is Abd Alkâdir Glilâny.’ I heard this answer by my spiritual ear. The Master then advised me to pray the Saint to give me his spiritual help and succor. I made this petition; and the apparition said to me, ‘I had already granted to thee my spiritual assistance; hence it is that the knots of thy heart have been loosed.’ Full of deep gratitude, I imposed on myself the obligation of reciting every Friday night the whole Qoran in honor of this great Saint, and for two whole years I never neglected this practice. Mollâ Shâh then said, ‘The spiritual world has been shown to thee in all its beauty: remain there seated, effacing thyself completely in the marvels of this unknown world.’

“I obeyed strictly the directions of my Master, and, day by day, the spiritual world became more and more unveiled before me. The next day I saw the figures of the Prophet and his chief Companions, and legions of Saints and Angels passed before my inner vision. Three months passed in this manner, after which the sphere where all color is effaced opened before me, and then all the figures disappeared. During all this time the Master ceased not to explain to me the doctrine of the union with God and of mystical intuition. But, nevertheless, the Absolute Reality would not show itself to me. It was not until after a year that the knowledge of the Absolute Reality, in its relation with the conception of my own existence came to me. The following verses revealed themselves at that moment to my heart, whence they passed unbidden to my lips:—

‘That this corruptible frame was other than water and dust I knew not: the powers of the heart and the soul and the body I knew not, Woe is me! that so much of my life without Thee has for ever fled from me. Thou wert I; but dark was my heart: I knew not the secret transcendent.’

“I submitted to Mollâ Shâh this poetical inspiration, and he rejoiced that the idea of the union with God was at last manifested to my heart; and addressing his disciples, he said: ‘Tèwekkul Bêg has heard from my mouth the words of the doctrine of the union with God, and he will never betray the mystery. His inner eye is opened; the sphere of color and images is shown to him, and at last the sphere where all color is effaced has been revealed to him. Whoever after having passed through these phases of the union with God, has obtained the Absolute Reality, shall no more be led astray, whether by his own doubts or by those which sceptics may suggest to him.”

(_To be continued._)

MUSINGS ON THE TRUE THEOSOPHIST’S PATH.