ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT
AMERICAN SECTION T. S.
GENERAL SECRETARY’S OFFICE, 144 MADISON AVE.
NEW YORK, November :28th, 1893.
To the Members of the T. S.:
No. 13.—JUNE, 1893.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
SECOND YEAR.
TALES FROM THE UPANISHADS.-------- p1
By PROF. MANILAL N. DVIVEDI.
INDRA AND VIROCHANA. --------------pgs. 2-7
THE GAME OF KNOWLEDGE. ----------pgs. 7-9
THE BOOK OF THE GREAT DECEASE. -pgs. 9-16
NO. 14.—NOVEMBER, 1893.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
SECOND YEAR.
THE BOOK OF THE GREAT DECEASE. pgs.17-32
MAHA-PARINIBBANA SUTTA.
(Concluded from No. 13, June, 1893.)
No. 15.—JANUARY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE NEW YEAR. -----------------------------p. 1
THE GREAT UPANISHADS.------------------p. 2
A VEDIC MASTER. ---------------------------p. 2-6
THE SYMBOLS USED. ------------------------p. 6-9
THE HERITAGE OF THE BRAHMANS.------ pgs. 9-15
No. 16.—MARCH, 1894
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
BUDDHA’S METHOD.--------------------------p. 17
A VEDIC MASTER.-----------------------------pgs. 18-20
From the ‘Upanishad of the Questions.”
PRASHNA UPANISHAD.
(Concluded from No. 15.)
LIFE AND THE LIVES. ------------------------pgs. 20-24
SHANKARA THE TEACHER. -----------------pgs. 24-27
FIRST STEPS ON THE PATH. -----------------pgs. 27-31
From Shankaracharya’s “Crest-Jewel of Wisdom” (‘Vivekachudamani, 1-70.)
No. 17.—MAY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
ESOTERIC TEACHING.-------------------------------- p.33
Rig ‘Veda, 1. 164, 45
THE MEANING OF OM. -------------------------------pgs. 34-40
MANDUKYA UPANISHAD.
THE FOUR DUTIES OF A DERVISH.------------------pgs.40-47
No.18.—JULY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE BIRTH OF THE WORLD-EGG. -------------------p.49
MANAVA DHARMA SHASTRA I.
FIRST PRINCIPLES. ----------------------------------pgs.50-53
CHANDOGYA UPANISHAD.
Sixth Chapter 1-7.
BEING. pgs. ---------------------------------------------54-58
RADIANCE, WATERS. EARTH.
THE AWAKENING TO THE SELF. --------------------pgs. 59-63
SHANKARACHARYA’S ATMA BODHA.
No. 19.—SEPTEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
‘TRUE FRIENDSHIP. -------------------------------------p.65
From She Hiri Sutta of the Buddhists.
FIRST PRINCIPLES. -------------------------------------pgs. 65-69
CHHANDOGYA UPANISHAD.
-: Sixth Chapter, 8-16.
THAT THOU ART. ----------------------------------------pgs. 70-74
THE MAHOMEDAN TRADITION OF
ISSA OR IESUS. -------------------------------------------pgs. 75-79
From the Persian of Mirkboud, 1432-1498 A.D.
No. 20.—NOVEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE SELF.------------------------------------------------------ p.81
FROM SHANKARA’S TATTVA BODHA.
BY WHOM? ---------------------------------------------------p. 82
KENA UPANISHAD.
A QUESTION, A RIDDLE, AND A FABLE. -----------------pgs.85-86
THE MAHOMEDAN TRADITION OF
ISSA OR JESUS.----------------------------------------------- pgs. 88-96
From the Persian of Mirkhond, I432-1498 A.D.
No. 21.—JANUARY, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
NEW YEAR’S GREETING! --------------------------------------p.97
BY THE MASTER.---------------------------------------------- pgs.98-99
Isha Upanishad.
THE GREAT ENLIGHTENING. ---------------------------------pgs. 100-107
SHANKARA’S CATECHISM.-----------------------------------pgs. 108-112
INTRODUCTORY.
THE AWAKENING TO REALITY.
Shankaracharya’s Tattva Bodha.
I.
No. 22.—MARCH, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
THE HYMN OF THE SPIRIT.------------------------------------- p.113
Purusha Sukta Rig Veda, X, 90, 1-5.
THE TWO WISDOMS. -------------------------------------------pgs.114-116
Mundaka Upanishad
1.
HIGHER AND LOWER KNOWLEDGE. -------------------------p. 116-120
In the Mundaka Upanishad.
THE AWAKENING TO REALITY. -------------------------------pgs. 121-124
Shankara’s Tattva Bodba.
II.
SHANKARA’S CATECHISM. ------------------------------------pgs.124-126
EXPLANATORY.
LOVERS OF THE EAST.------------------------------------------- pgs. 126-128
ANQUETIL DUPERRON.
1731—1805.
NO. 23—MAY, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE MOTHER OF THE VEDAS. -----------------------------------p. 129
Rig Veda: 111, 62, 10.
THE TWO WISDOMS.--------------------------------------------- pgs.130-132
Mundaka Upanishad.
II.
THE HIDDEN SHINING. -------------------------------------------pgs.133-135
THE EARLIEST RACES. --------------------------------------------pgs.136-140
Vayu Purana: ,1, 7.
LOVERS OF THE EAST.--------------------------------------------- pgs. 141-142
SIR WILLIAM JONES.
1746-1794.
No. 24—JUNE, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE RACES OF ANCIENT INDIA. ------------------------------------p.145
Mahabharata: Shantiparvan 6934.
THE LOTUS OF THE TEACHING. -----------------------------------pgs.146-149
Taittirya Upanishad.
FIRST LESSONS IN THE MYSTERIES. ------------------------------pgs.149-155
From the Taittiriya Upanishad.
THE EARLY RACES. ---------------------------------------------------pgs.155-158
Vayu Purana: IX, 123-180.
LOVERS OF THE EAST. ------------------------------------------------pgs.158-160
HENRY THOMAS COLEBROOKE.
1765-1837.
No. 25—SEPTEMBER--OCTOBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
SELF-SOUL-MIND.------------------------------------------------------- p.161
ATMA-BUDDHI-MANAS.
Katha Upanishad 1, 3.
THE LOTUS OF THE BLISS OF THE ETERNAL. ------------------------pgs. 162-166
Taittiriya Upanishad.
II.
THE FIVE VEILS OF THE SELF.------------------------------------------- pgs.
167-170
In the Taittiriya Upanishad: II.
THE NOBLE EIGHTFOLD PATH.------------------------------------------ pgs.171-175
From the Buddhist ‘Dharma Chakra Pravarttana Sutra; circa ‘B.C. 300.
No. 26—NOVEMBER-DECEMBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE SONG OF THE SELF.---------------------------------------------------- p.176
Sankaracharya’s Siddhanta-Tattva-Vindu.
THE DREAM OF LIFE.
---------------------------------------------------------p.177
THE LOTUS OF THE SAGE BHRGU.
Taittiriya Upanishad.
III.
INVOCATION.-----------------------------------------------------------------
pgs.178-181
THE FOOD OF THE WORLD.
-------------------------------------------------pgs.184-182
Taittiriya Upanishad, 111.
SELF, POTENCIES, VESTURES.----------------------------------------------
pgs.185-192
The Crest Jewel of Wisdom. Shankara’s ‘Vivekachudamani: 71-150.
No. I—JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR
A NEW DEPARTURE.
-------------------------------------------------------------p.1
FATHER, MOTHER AND SON.------------------------------------------------- pgs.2-5
Aitareya Upanishad.
THE PRIMORDIAL MAN
--------------------------------------------------------pgs.6-10
In the Aitareya Upanishad.
THE WITNESS.-------------------------------------------------------------------
pgs.11-15
Shankara’s ‘Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom.—201-207.
AN ANSWER.
---------------------------------------------------------------------pgs.15
No. 2—MARCH-APRIL, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.
THE THREE WORLDS.
------------------------------------------------------------pg.19
Katha Upanishad, ii, 1,6.
THE WITNESS.
---------------------------------------------------------------------p.18
Shankaras Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom.— 201-297.
THE MANIFEST AND THE HIDDEN SELF.
(Concluded from p.15)
THE MYSTERIES OF SOUND. I --------------------------------------------------p.
20
Chhandogya Upanishad, 1, I-7.
It will be advisable to study the Commentary
that follows, before reading this translation.
THE
UP-SINGING.------------------------------------------------------------------
pgs. 26-32
Chhandogya Upanishad, I.
No. 3—MAY—JUNE, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.
THE
WARRIOR.----------------------------------------------------------------------
p. 33
THE MYSTERIES OF SOUND. ------------------------------------------------------p.
34-42
Chhandogya Upanishad, i, 7—ii, 21.
THREE, FIVE, SEVEN.
----------------------------------------------------------------pgs. 44-47
In Chhandogya Upanishad, , ii.
ANCIENT
WISDOM.------------------------------------------------------------------ pg. 48
Tao Teh, King, Pt. I, ch,. xxii-xxiv,.
No. 4—JULY—AUGUST, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.
THE PRINCE AND THE WOODMAN.-------------------------------------------------
p.49
THE MYSTERIES OF SOUND.
---------------------------------------------------------p.50-52
Chhandogya Upanishad: ii, 22-24.
THE NOTES AND THE CHANT.-------------------------------------------------------
pgs. 52-55
In Chhandogya Upanishad, ii. 22-24.
FINDING THE REAL SELF.
------------------------------------------------------------pgs. 55-57
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Cress Jewel of Wisdom. —271-300.
THE POWER OF MIND-IMAGES.------------------------------------------------------
p.58 -64
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom.—301-380.
No. 5—SEPTEMBER—OCTOBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR
THE SOUL AND THE SELF.
--------------------------------------------------------------p.1
HONEY FOR THE GODS.
-----------------------------------------------------------------pgs.2-4
Chhandogya Upanishad. iii, I-II.
THE VESTURES OF THE
SUN.------------------------------------------------------------ pgs. 5-8
In Chhandogya Upanishad, iii, I-II.
FREE EVEN IN LIFE.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------pgs. 9-13
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom, 381—440.
DHAMMAPADA.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------p.13-15
Chapter I.
THE TWIN VERSES.
Chapter II.
ON EARNESTNESS EARNESTNESS
------------------------------------------------------p.15
THE SONGS OF THE
MASTER.------------------------------------------------------------ p.16
No. 6—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.
THE GREAT
DEEP.----------------------------------------------------------------------------p.
1
Vayu Purana, vi,I-7.
KING NALA’S RIVALS.
---------------------------------------------------------------------p.2
Mahabharata, iii, vi, .53,5.
THE LEGENDS OF THE BARDS.
------------------------------------------------------------p.4-6
HEART, WILL, LIFE.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------p.6-9
Chhandogya Upanishad: iii, 12-16.
THE TEACHINGS OF THE
SEERS.---------------------------------------------------------- pgs. 9-12
In Chhandogya Upanishad: iii, 12-16.
THE THREE KINDS OF WORKS. pgs. 12-14
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom, 441-470.
THE SONGS OF THE MASTER.
-------------------------------------------------------------pgs.15-16
II.
No. 7 JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.
“VITA BREVIS.”-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
p. 1
Hitopadesha, iv, 68-83.
NALA AND THE
GODS.-----------------------------------------------------------------------pgs.
2-3
Mahabharata, xii, vi, 5, 6-7.
AN OLD LEGEND.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------pgs.
4-5
Chhandogya Upanishad, iv, 1-2.
RAIKVA OF THE CHARIOT.
------------------------------------------------------------------pgs. 6-7
In Chhandogya Upanishad, IV, 1-2.
THE TALE OF A
TIGER.------------------------------------------------------------------------
pgs.7-8-9
The Book of Good Counsel. Hitopadesha, i.
MASTER AND PUPIL.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------pgs.
10-13
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom, 471-520.
THE SONGS OF THE
MASTER.---------------------------------------------------------------- pgs. 14
-16
III.
THE DREAM OF RAVAN.--------------------------------------------------------------------------
p.16
A MYSTERY.
No. 8—MARCH--APRIL, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
SIXTH YEAR.
BAPTISM.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
p. 17
THE SORROWS OF DAMAYANTI.
--------------------------------------------------------------p.18 -19
Mahabharata, iii, vi, , viii-ix.
TEACHERS OTHER THAN HUMAN.
-------------------------------------------------------------pgs.19-22
Chhandogya Upanishad, iv, 4, 9.
SATYAKAMA SON OF JABALA.
-----------------------------------------------------------------pgs. 22-26
“Inquire of the earth, the air, and the water, of the secrets they hold for
you.”
CONCERNING THREE BRAHMANS.
-------------------------------------------------------------pgs.26-28
The Book of Good Council: Hitopadesha, iv.
THE PERFECT
SAGE.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
pgs. 28-30
Shankara’s Vivekachudamai: The Crest-Jewel of Wisdom, 521-550
THE DREAM OF RAVAN.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------pgs.
30-32
THE INTERPRETATION OF THE DREAM.
No. 13.—JUNE, 1893.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
SECOND YEAR.
OBJECTS OF THE THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY:
FIRST—To form a nucleus of a Universal Brotherhood of
Humanity, without distinction of race, creed, sex, caste, or color.
SECOND—To promote the study of Aryan and other Eastern
literatures, religions, and sciences,. and demonstrate the importance of that
study.
THIRD—To investigate unexplained laws of nature and
the psychical powers latent in man.
THESE
papers are issued under the authority and direction of the AMERICAN
SECTION of the THEOSOPHICAL
SOCIETY in Convention, and are designed to
carry out in part the second of the above objects. They are issued free to all
members of the THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY
in America in good standing, and to non-members upon payment of subscription of
ten cents per copy.
The THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY is not
responsible, as such, for ally Statements made in these papers.
WILLIAM Q. JUDGE,
General Secretary American Section,
144 Madison Avenue, New York.
SANSKRIT WORD PRONUNCIATION,
VOWELS. The refinements of Sanskrit vowel
pronunciation occasion some differences of opinion among scholars. We therefore
here suggest the use of the continental Spanish or Italian sounds, these being
sufficiently near to the correct pronunciation, and at the same time readily
adaptable to American speech. No accents will be used, as the ordinary reader it
not sufficiently acquainted with the language to distinguish between them:
a as a in “that;” a (long) as a in “father;” e as ay
in “lay;” i as ee in “See;” o as o in “mode ;“ u
as oo in “mood.’
CONSONANTS. As in English; but “ch” is always
pronounced as in “chain:”
Examples: “Chela” as Chayla; “Devachan” as Dayvachian;
“Nirvana” as Neervana; “Karma’ as Kar-r-ma; “Kama Rupa” as
Kam-ma Roopa; “Upanishlad” as Oopaneeshad; “Buddha” as Boodha;
“Prithivi” as Preet-heeevee; “Manu" as Mannoo; “Manas” as
Mannas.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT
AMERICAN SECTION T. S.
GENERAL SECRETARY’S OFFICE, 144 MADISON AVE.
NEW YORK, November :28th, 1893.
To the Members of the T. S.:
I have at last been able to secure, With the advice and Consent of the
Executive Committee, the services of a Competent Sanscrit scholar in Europe, who
is at the same time a devoted member of the Society, for this Department, and
desire to notify you of it as also to outline to you the plan for carrying on
the Department. The name of this person will not be given out for the present by
his own request until later when the work has proceeded to some extent. Of his
qualifications there is no doubt, as he has had experience in this field, has
also for some time been teaching Sanscrit, and brings to the work a sincere
sympathy with Indian thought as well as devotion to the Society which will
without question make the matter furnished of value as well as interest. The
plan is this:
Readers are not familiar with the books of the East. They should have (a) a
sound course of the twelve great Upanishads until they grow thoroughly
familiar with them. Two versions are already out, but the Upanishads have never yet been translated in the light of Theosophy. The Prasna
Upanishad
will probably be translated first, so that the translation, while preserving
the spirit of the text, will be thoroughly sound and readable English. After
each instalment of the text a commentary will be given of sound literary form,
combining the Indian tradition of Shankaracharya’s commentary with Theosophy,
thus letting the two illumine each other. (b) The Laws of Manu will be
taken up, and also Shankaracharya’s great books, whether already translated or
not. The Oriental ideal is that the student should know the book by heart; the
western is, “Oh I read that before”. The readers should know the ideas by heart,
not the words: this is the medium course. (c) Buddhism will be taken up.
Many of the best Pali books are still untranslated; and the Sanscrit books of
Nepal on Northern Buddhism, such as Tathagata Guhyakam or Buddha’s Secret
teaching can be dealt with. With proper treatment these would be invaluable.
Other Eastern religions would follow in due course. (d) To give life and
actuality to the East some modern work would be used. (e) Possibly a
fifth element in a series called, “Friends of the East”, men not Theosophists
who have given up their lives to Oriental research, with a portrait. This would
give personal interest and not put the Eastern notion in the background.
All this of course takes time and much labor. I am authorized to spend something
on the plan, but our funds at one dollar a year from each member will not permit
adequate compensation for the work of the pundit. Indeed all that is done for
members by this office is worth more than is paid by them and costs more. Hence
if this plan finds favor and if the issues so far of the Department only in the
light of a promise have been of service, it is for the members to show whether
we will in the future be able to carry on this department in a systematic and
proper manner. We cannot raise the rate or dues, as that would exclude many
worthy persons. But no member is prevented from paying more per year if his or
her means permit, and it is true that many belong to other bodies for various
purposes wherein the yearly dues are much higher.
WILLIAM Q. JUDGE,
General Secretary.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT
APPENDIX.
THE ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT REPORT.
When the Oriental Department was entrusted to the present editor by Mr. Judge, two years and a half ago, it was decided to lay special stress on the Upanishads, and, after them, on the works of Shankara Acharya and Buddha, while giving such space to other religions as might be found advantageous.
The reasons for putting the Upanishads in the first place were these traces of the teachings which have become known to us as Theosophy, are found in the records of all ancient religions in both hemispheres, but nowhere are these teachings so fully, lucidly and profoundly recorded as in the oldest Upanishads and this is true not only of large generalizations, like the doctrines of rebirth and liberation, but also of those more particular and recondite doctrines which come gradually to the knowledge of students who follow a special line of study and work. So that, in the Upanishads, we have an invaluable proof of the antiquity and authenticity of both general and particular doctrines a guarantee at least three thousand years old, and, in all probability, very much older. And if the Upanishads lend this invaluable support to our modern teachings, it is, on the other hand, true, that without these modern teachings, much that is most profound and of greatest value in the Upanishads is hardly intelligible, so that one may read the ordinary translations without gaining any idea of the meaning, or even the presence, of those particular teachings which we have spoken of. It was, therefore, necessary to read and translate, the Upanishads, in the light of Theosophy.
Following out this purpose, seven out of the ten chief Upanishads have already been translated, and very fully commented on ; the eighth is in course of translation, and a considerable part of it has already appeared in the Oriental Department. The greatest and most profound of Upanishads will be translated in the future, and commented on in the light of the Upanishads already translated.
Besides this, its most important part, the Oriental Department has contained portions of three of the Buddhist Suttas three hitherto untranslated works of Shankara Acharya, and a fourth work, already somewhat loosely translated, but only obtainable with great difficulty. Other translations have been taken from the hymns of Rig Veda, Manu’s Code, the Mahabharata, and the Puranas ; while the Mohammedan religion has been represented by a tract on the Supi adepts and their precepts, here for the first time translated into English, and the extremely interesting Mussulman traditions of Issa or Jesus, which show ‘‘ the son of Mariain’’ as a master-magician and teacher of pure morality.
Various essays on Oriental subjects
have been added; amongst them short accounts of the scholars who brought
the sacred books and ancient languages of the east to the west, and this series
will shortly be completed.
C. J.
It may not be quite in order here, but I should like to add a few words on the subject which has been in all our heart,—Mr. Judge’s death. In the ten years that I have known Mr. Judge, two features of his character have been most prominent his profound practical wisdom and knowledge of spiritual and moral law, a knowledge that could only be gained in one way, individual amid particular experience in the world of spiritual and real life ; so that in innumerable pronouncements as to spiritual law and fact which he has made, often quite informally and privately, there is not one but experience has shown or is showing, its truth and validity, as a guide to real life. Add to this Mr. Judge’s power of giving opportunity to his associates to do their best work in the best way, and we understand how every year only strengthened the bond that bound us to him, a bond that his death does not even touch. For Mr. Judge is not dead where lie was most alive, and his influence, and the work which he guided will daily grow greater and more real.
Let this brief note carry with it a sincere and hearty greeting, which I hope
one day to renew in person.
CHARLES JOHNSTON.
April 10, 1896
No. 13.—JUNE, 1893.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
SECOND YEAR.
OBJECTS OF THE THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY:
FIRST—To form a nucleus of a Universal Brotherhood of Humanity, without
distinction of race, creed, sex, caste, or color.
SECOND—To promote the study of Aryan and other Eastern literatures, religions,
and sciences,. and demonstrate the importance of that study.
THIRD—To investigate unexplained laws of nature and the psychical powers latent
in man.
THESE papers are issued under the authority and direction of the AMERICAN
SECTION of the THEOSOPHICAL
SOCIETY in Convention, and are designed to
carry out in part the second of the above objects. They are issued free to all
members of the THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY in America in good standing, and to
non-members upon payment of subscription of ten cents per copy.
The THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY is not responsible, as such, for ally Statements made
in these papers.
WILLIAM Q. JUDGE,
General Secretary American Section,
144 Madison Avenue, New York.
SANSKRIT WORD PRONUNCIATION,
VOWELS. The refinements of Sanskrit vowel pronunciation occasion some
differences of opinion among scholars. We therefore here suggest the use of the
continental Spanish or Italian sounds, these being sufficiently near to the correct pronunciation, and at the same time readily adaptable to American speech.
No accents will be used, as the ordinary reader it not sufficiently acquainted
with the language to distinguish between them:
a as a in “that;” a (long) as a in “father;” e as ay
in “lay;” i as ee in “See;” o as o in “mode ;“
u as oo in “mood.’
CONSONANTS. As in English; but “ch” is always pronounced as in “chain:”
Examples: “Chela” as Chayla; “Devachan” as Dayvachian;
“Nirvana” as Neervana; “Karma’ as Kar-r-ma; “Kama Rupa” as
Kam-ma Roopa; “Upanishlad” as Oopaneeshad; “Buddha” as Boodha; “Prithivi” as Preet-heeevee;
“Manu" as Mannoo; “Manas” as
Mannas.
TALES FROM THE UPANISHADS.
p1
By PROF. MANILAL N. DVIVEDI.
IT is well-known that the Upanishads form the most important compendium
of the metaphysics of Vedic religion. The doctrine
of one essence taught therein is the key to many a Vedic sukta and Puranic katha,
and reveals the true nature of the whole of Aryan religion, nay even of the
so-called heathenism of the Hindus. Apart from the very important nature of the
whole teaching, it is interesting to note in what homely and popularly simple
manner these sublime truths are taught by the ancient sages. I have Selected a
few tales from the Upanishads with a view to enable the general
reader to obtain an idea of the principal truths taught in those sacred relics
of antiquity. The tale selected for this paper is from the Chandogya
Upanishad of the Samaveda. It relates to the studentship of Indra,
the lord of the Gods, and Virochana, the chief of the Asuras—demons—under
Prajapati whom they take for their guru. The following is a free translation of
the text.
INDRA AND VIROCHANA. pgs. 2-7
That Atman which is beyond decay and death, free from sorrow, not open to
hunger and thirst, of unfailing thought and desire, should be known, should be
realized. That man has access to all the worlds, and has all his desires
fulfilled, who having known this Atman fully realizes it. So said Prajapati.
This reached the ears of the gods and the demons, who pondered, each according
to his own order, on the power that gains access to all the worlds and fulfills
all desires, and resolved that such an opportunity should on no account be
missed. Accordingly Indra from among the gods, and Virochana from among the
Asuras went up to Prajapati. Jealous of each other, they approached the
guru with holy grass in their hands and lived with him as Brahma charm Prajapati
asked them after the lapse of thirty-two years what was the object of their
residence with him? They said:
“We have heard that your Lordship knows that Atman which is beyond decay and
death, free from sorrow, not open to hunger and thirst, of unfailing thought and
desire, which when looked for and known up to full realization, gives access to
all the worlds, and places within reach the fulfilment of all desires,’ and we
want to know this Atman; hence our residence in this place.” Prajapati replied,
“The Purusha in the eye is Atman,” and added, “it is the immortal, the fearless,
it is Brahman.” Hereupon the pupils asked “Oh Lord! which is that Purusha—is it
not that which is seen in a looking-glass, or in water?", to which the teacher
replied, “Verily it is the same, it is found everywhere ;“ but he took
care to add, “if after looking into a cup full of water you should not find
Atman, return and ask me again.”
They accordingly looked into a cup full of water, and being asked by the guru
what they saw, replied: “Oh Lord! we see the whole of this our Atman (self i.
e. the body), a full reflection of it up to the very hair on our head, and
the nails on our fingers.” The teacher asked them to remove the hair and the
nails and put on fresh clothes and ornaments, and look again into the cup. When
they looked again into the the water, after shaving and after change of dress
and ornaments, Prajapati asked them what they saw. They replied: “Oh Lord! we
see our selves (Atman) as they are, all shaved, decorated and dressed as we are “. The guru remarked,
“This is Atman, this is the immortal, the fearless, this is Brahman.” The
pupils hearing this went away in great joy. After their departure Prajapati
observed, “Whoever of these two thus returning to their homes, without having
properly known and realized Atman, takes his wrong impression to be the real
Upanishad (i. e. Brahman, Atman), be he god or demon, will simply destroy
himself and all who put faith in his teaching “.
The Asura, Virochana, went entirely satisfied to his people, and taught them the
Upanishad he had learnt. He declared. “It is only one’s self (the body) that
deserves all worship, it should be carefully served; he who worships and serves
the body gains access to all the worlds, this as well as the next (the mastery
whereof being obtained, it goes without saying that all desires are easily
fulfilled).” Hence even to this day it is usual to call him an Asura who does
not put faith in anything beyond direct perception, who observes no
religion. This alas! is the Upanishad of the Asuras. They attend simply to this
dead * carcass, feeding it with sweet viands, and bedecking it with fine clothes
and ornaments, believing all the while that only thus access is obtained to the
next world.
* Dead in the sense of “dead matter “; for Atman being nothing but the
body, all matter and no thought, is from the Upanishad point of view a
dead carcass as understood by the Asuras. The phrase adequately brings out the
impossibility of thought or feeling in mere matter without thought (Atman).
But the god Indra, before returning to the gods, saw a difficulty, and said to himself: “This Atman (meaning the reflection seen in the water, viz, the body) appears well dressed, well adorned, well refined, upon the body’s being well dressed, adorned, or refined. But even so must it appear blind, one-eyed, or without hand or foot, upon the body’s becoming blind, one-eyed, or without hand or foot; and should moreover perish with the body. I for one see no fruit from the realization of such Atman. Whereupon he came back, with the holy grass in his hand to Prajapati who, seeing him, asked why he having gone away in all satisfaction in company with Virochana, returned to that place? Indra replied, “This Atman appears well dressed, well adorned, well refined. But even so it must appear blind, one-eyed, or without hand or foot, upon the body’s becoming blind, one-eyed, or without hand or foot, and should moreover perish with the body. I for one see no fruit from the realization of such Atman.” The teacher remarked: “Verily what you say is but too true, oh Indra! I shall explain it to you yet further, wait here for another thirty-two years.” Indra lived with his master for the period prescribed, at the end whereof Prajapati said: “The subject of all that is seen in dream is Atman; it is the immortal, the fearless, it is Brahman.”
Indra went away satisfied with this answer, but again encountered a difficulty before reaching home. He observed: “True it is that this Atman remains unaffected by the blindness or one-eyed-ness of the body, it is not touched by any of its accidents, nor does it perish with it, but it appears to suffer like the body, to pale under sorrow, to despair under difficulty, and even to weep on occasion. I see no fruit of the realization of such Atman.” Whereupon he went back to Prajapati with the holy grass in his hand. The sage, on seeing him, asked why he returned after having gone away in satisfaction? Indra replied: “True it is that this Atman remains unaffected by the blindness or one-eyed-ness of the body, it is not touched by any of its accidents, nor does it perish with it; but it appears to suffer like the body, to pale under sorrow, to despair under difficulty, and even to weep on occasion. I see no fruit of the realization of such Atman.” The master said to his pupil: “What thou sayest is but too true, I shall explain it to thee again, stay here another thirty-two years”. At the expiration of the prescribed period Prajapati said to Indra: “That which being in deep sleep, immersed in its native bliss, sees no dream is Atman; it is the immortal, the fearless, it is Brahman”.
Indra went away fully satisfied, but even before he reached the gods a doubt again cropped up in his mind: “The Atman in deep sleep is not conscious of its existence, and knows not ‘this is myself’, nor does it know the things of the universe. It can, therefore, be none other than pure extinction or annihilation. I see no fruit of the realization of such Atman.” Whereupon he traced his way back to his guru, with the holy grass in his hand, and being asked why after going away in full satisfaction he came again, replied: “ The Atman in deep sleep is not conscious of its existence, and knows not ‘this is myself’, nor does it know the things of the universe. It can therefore be none other than pure extinction or anihilation. I see no fruit of the realization of such Atman. “ The master remarked: “What thou sayest, Indra, is very true, I shall explain to thee the truth over again, for it (Atman) is none other than that described to thee before. Stay with me only for another five years and I shall make the matter plain to thee.” He stayed another five years and completed a hundred, often referred to as the period spent by Indra in Brahmacharya, under Prajapati.
The master said at last to his pupil: “O Indra! this body is mortal, always subject to death, it is only the abode, so to speak, of the bodiless Atman (which thus circumstanced is called Jiva) which being thus with body partakes of pleasure and pain, for pleasure and pain do not leave one with body, it being the bodiless alone that is ever free from them. The air, ether, lightning, clouds, all bodiless in themselves, appear (as with body * i. e., The body of manifestation. ) in the sky, and rebecome themselves—the highest light. In the same manner this All-Bliss manifesting itself as the body (called then Jiva) merges in the highest light, and rebecomes itself. This indeed is the greatest Purusha. It appears to take on itself a variety of forms, sometimes engrossed in enjoyments of the senses, sometimes all playfulness and joy, some times endulging itself in the company of women, or in the pleasure of horses, carriages, etc., or in the affection of friends and relatives,—never remembering, or identifying itself with the body, its tenement governed by Prana, joined to it after the manner of a horse to a vehicle. The Purusha in the eye is the Akasa found therein, it is only its way out to the objective. That is Atman which is implied in the ego of the experience ‘I smell’, it being the very being of the sense of smell. It is that which is conscious of the experience ‘I speak’, being in itself the very essence of speech. It is that which is conscious of the experience ‘I hear’, being the very thing that hears. And lastly it is that which is conscious of the subjective experience ‘I think’, being the very being of the mind. The mind is its divine eye whereby it calls into being the various objects of experience and plays with them. As the gods in heaven devote themselves to their Atman, they have all the worlds within their control, and all their desires are always fulfilled. He therefore who knows Atman and realizes it in himself everywhere gains access to all the worlds, and has all his desires fulfilled.” This is what said Prajapati, indeed Prajapati, to his pupil.
[Note.—Any explanation is hardly necessary to lay bare the important moral of this simple tale. It sets forth in very vivid colors the Upanishad (creed) of the materialist of to-day in the person of Virochana bound to the physical as the only plane of knowledge and truth. The opposite view is happily represented in the attitude of Indra, the disciple submitting himself to reason (Buddhi) and willing to be guided by it. It may be seen in what reverence the guru is held even by such potentates as Indra, the god of gods, and Virochana the proud lord of the Asuras. The period of probation extending over a hundred years in the case of Indra, the true disciple who at last gets the truth, is worthy of the attentive consideration of western candidates for the truth, the whole truth of Theosophy. The light cannot reflect itself in a mirror soiled with terrestrial mud, the removal whereof must necessarily be the work of time, patience, and intelligent perseverence.
The teacher at first points out the Purusha in the eye as Atman, thought,
meaning thereby the cognizer of and through whom the eye is the eye, and is able
to perceive things and receive impressions. The pupils, through not
understanding the real truth, understood it only after the persuasion of their
proud intelligence, and did not, out of sheer vanity, say plainly that they had
failed to grasp the real meaning. This mistake has been repeated even by the
better pupil more than once; and in our age of individualism and selfish pride how
many daily recur to the same and debar themselves from the path of eternal
wisdom! The Master out of kindness suggested that the pupils should look into a
cup full of water, and return to him if they failed to find Atman therein. The
self-sufficient lord of gods and the proud chief of demons tried the experiment
and appeared to be satisfied at the sight of their own reflection in the water.
The guru thereupon tried, another innocent stratagem and asked them to change
their dress and ornaments, and remove the hair on their heads and the nails on
their fingers, and look again into the water. This ought to have been
sufficient, for it was thus plainly indicated that Atman, the truth, is always
as unalterably one as the body which remains the same though appearing to take
on different forms under different conditions, and moreover that the Atman
cannot be the reflection of the body which waxes and wanes with additions to and
subtractions from the body. But the ignorance of the pupils would not allow them
an insight into the real meaning of the experiment. They therefore went away in
full satisfaction, taking the body to be the soul they were in quest
of. The Asura got confirmed in his belief and taught that the body was the thing
that was all in all, and everything that conduced to the ease and comfort of
that combination of material elements, was the surest way to the satisfaction of
all desires and to the supreme happiness of absolution even here. But the god
proved more intelligent and wise. And this explains also what makes a god a god,
and an Asura an Asura. He looked within himself and saw that the reflection of
the body could not be the real essence which has been declared by the guru to be
immortal and beyond decay, death, or change. He returns and enters another term
of studentship which brings him more knowledge. In all that the guru tells him
every time he returns, the substance is none other than the truth conveyed to
him even at the first moment; and the teacher is not open to the charge of
having held back the truth, for it is laid down: “Hold the torch before him only
who can bear its light “. Atman is that something through which the eye and all
the external senses—i. e. the phenomena of waking experience; and the
mind—i. e. the panorama of dreams, imagination, fancies; and lastly the
blank experience of sleep; are all rendered possible. In other words: It is that
something which
is implied in the very existence of experience; for nothing can exist prior to
thought. And Atman is that which is not any one of the three conditions, and is
yet ever all and everything.]
Nadiad, India.
No. 13.—JUNE, 1893.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
SECOND YEAR.
THE GAME OF KNOWLEDGE.
pgs. 7-9
(JNANA BAJI.)
By PROF. MANILAL N. DVIVEDI.
THE game of knowledge may sound rather a curious title; for although we hear
of games in all departments of life, it is
rather curious to find knowledge made the subject of a game. The word “game”
is, however, used in this connection in the simple sense of play, or mere
pastime. It is noteworthy—though the idea is curious—that the Hindus (ancient
Aryans) have turned their pastimes to use, and the highest use imaginable. The
nation accredited with having invented a game to meet the wants of
Buddhi—Mind,—the Chess, called Buddhi-bala in Sanskrit, has every right to stand
alone in having found out something to satisfy the Atma—Spirit—as well. This
game refers to the stages in the progress of an individualized Spirit in all
grades of life to self-recognition.
The board is marked out into 108 little compartments corresponding to the number
of beads in an ordinary rosary used in the Hindu religion. The first compartment
is assigned to Illusion, an inseparable aspect of the Ineffable which occupies
the 108th; and which, if the contents of the 108 compartments were arranged in a
circle as in a rosary, would come nearest to it. With Illusion begins evolution;
the next stage is rightly marked “Birth’, which invariably leads to Selfishness,
Sin, Lower Life, Delusion, Vanity, and the rest shown on the board. This is the
general principle observed in filling up the compartments, but at certain points
it will appear to be partially abandoned. We have at twelve the World of
Elementals and the next stage is marked “Hell”. Now it is not always certain
that devotion to the elementals leads to Hell, but the extreme proximity of the
one to the other is meant as a caution to those who are addicted to the worship
of elementals. There is indeed a very thin partition between the world of
elementals and the nether regions, likely to break down at any moment under the
smallest pressure of selfishness and cruelty.
There is yet a third way in which the appropriateness of the several names
has to be understood. We find 60, the place of RajaYoga, and 61 that of Dhyana
or Laya Yoga. Now it is not at all correct that Raja Yoga leads to Dhyana, for
the first is impossible without the second. How do we explain, then, the order
of succession apparently implied? There is nothing like succession in this
instance, the two are only juxtaposed, and the superiority of Raja over all Yoga
is indicated by opening a flight of steps from it direct to 100, the place of
Jnana—supreme knowledge. This indeed is the use of the dozen ladders we find
interspersed throughout the diagram. And this leads to an explanation of the
presence of an equal number of snakes distributed over the board. The principle
is the same, only applied in the reverse order. The compartment where the mouth
of a snake opens to receive the sinful wanderer is the last he traverses in that
round, for the snake swallows him and throws him out at its tail in whatever
compartment that be, whence he has to begin his journey again and pay in this
manner the penalty of his sin. If at the tail of a
snake there be the mouth of another, the fall will be still lower, for the end
of the fall will be at the tail of the last serpent. If, for example, one comes
to 30 and falls to 26, he cannot stop to re-begin his climb there,
but must go yet further down to 7 and begin from that point upward. The same
applies mutatis mutandis to the ladders. If one reaches 36, he finds a
ladder ready to raise him to 68, whence again another will lift him to 96.
These particulars explain the principle of the game. Any two or more persons may
play it, each having a distinct piece to himself. All the pieces should at first
be placed in No. 1. Seven cowries—or seven small dice, each marked with an ace
only on one face—should then be taken in the hand by one of the players, and
thrown. The number of cowries with faces upward or of the aces turned up on the
dice, is the value of the throw, and the player moves his piece so many
compartments onward. The players play in this manner by turns. At any one time
each player throws but once. If the number scored in a throw brings the piece to
a compartment where a ladder or the mouth of a serpent is present, the piece
goes up or down as the case may be in manner indicated in the last paragraph,
the compartments through which a ladder or a serpent passes not being at all affected by these circumstances but being treated like ordinary compartments.
When in this manner the player comes to 100 his difficulty begins. Care
should then be taken that the throw scores nothing in excess of what is
required; for otherwise the piece will have to retrace its way. For
example, a piece is at 102 if the score throws 7 the piece goes on to 108
but back again to 107. It goes again to 108 and wins the game, only if it
scores one the next time. The reason for this is obvious. Having reached the
stage of Jnana the student is expected to take a correct measure of his strength
and strides.
The game thus explained and presented in the accompanying diagram is arranged
according to the principles of the Vedanta (Advaita); but almost all systems of
religion in India have a similar game marked with names consonant with the
tenets of their teaching. These games are not very generally known even here in
India; only very old people here and there who have perhaps never heard anything
of Bezique or Whist speak of such things, and occasionally show them. I am not
able to say whether we find this game mentioned in any ancient book, but at all
events I know that it is very, very old; and if only for the very great
ingenuity and usefulness of the arrangement, coupled with the simplicity in the
rules of play, it deserves to supersede all those
-indoor games which entail the loss of valuable time and often money. This game,
while serving as a pastime, is of very great use in inculcating the leading
important principles of Advaita philosophy in the easiest possible manner.
Nadiad, India.
No. 13.—JUNE, 1893.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
SECOND YEAR.
THE BOOK OF THE GREAT DECEASE.
pgs. 9-16
MAHA-PARINIBBANA SUTTA.
THE Maha-Parinibbana Sutta, consisting of six chapters, is an account of the
death of Buddha and of the sayings of that teacher to his disciples just before
his decease. The text is Pali. Its date is uncertain, but it was probably
written from two to four centuries B. C.
The following is taken from the translation by Mr. T. W. Rhys Davids in The
Sacred Books of the East. It contains a general statement of the narrative.
All needless repeditions have been expunged, and only the more important sayings
and injunctions of the Buddha recorded. It is thought that, this will be
useful, as members generally cannot buy these expensive books. Other chapters
will be given in subsequent issues.
CHAPTER 1.
Verses
1—5. The Blessed One was once dwelling in Rajagaha, on the
hill called the Vulture’s Peak. Ajatasattu, the king of Magadha, was
desirous of exterminating the Vajians. He sent the Brahman Vassakara, his prime
minister, to Buddha to ask the great sage what he would predict. Buddha was being
fanned by Ananda, his favorite disciple, when the Brahman arrived with the
king’s request. He at once turned to Ananda and asked him if he had heard that
the Vajians held frequent and full assemblies. Ananda replying in the
affirmative, Buddha declared that so long as they met together in concord and
remained harmonious, and did not try to alter established laws, so long as they
performed their proper religious duties and provided for their priests, so long
might they be expected to live and to prosper. Then he turned to the Brahman and
said that he had taught the Vajians these conditions of welfare himself when he
was staying at Vesali at the Sarandada Temple; and so long as they continued to
practice and preach them their prosperity would remain assured. The Brahman
thanked the Buddha, saying that he gathered from what was said that the king of
Magadha could not overcome the Vajians unless he resorted to diplomacy and broke
up their alliance. Then he rose from his seat and went his way.
Verses 6—11. After the Brahman had gone the Blessed One told Ananda to call a
meeting of those of the brethren who dwelt in the neighborhood of Rajagaha, and
to assemble them in the Service Hall. When they had been assembled Buddha said
that he would then teach them seven conditions for the welfare of their
community. The seven conditions were that so long as they held full and frequent
meetings, preserved harmony in their midst, remained true to the rules of their
Order, supported their elder brethren and listened to their words and took their
advice, did not desire material welfare and existence, delighted in lives of
solitude, and tried to train their minds so that good and holy men might come to
them and dwell in their midst, —so long would they prosper. He then taught them
seven other conditions. So long as the brethren were not attached to business,
so long as they did not indulge in slander or gossip, did not allow themselves
to be slothful, avoided social indulgence, maintained a constant struggle
against their lower desires, avoided bad company, did not come to a stop on
their way to final emancipation simply because they might have attained to any
lesser thing,—so long would the Brotherhood prosper. Other conditions taught he
them. The brethren would not decline so long as they possessed faith, modesty,
and fear of sin, continued their studies, were energetic and mentally alive, and
were full of wisdom. So long as the brethren exercised themselves in the
sevenfold higher wisdom—that is,
in mental
activity, search after truth, energy, joy, peace, earnest contemplation, and
equanimity of mind, they would live and in- increase. So long as they exercised
themselves in interior meditation and the sevenfold perception due to earnest
thought, they would prosper. So long as they persevered in kindliness of action,
speech, and thought both in public and in private, divided their substance with
impartiality, practiced those virtues which were praised by the wise, and were productive of true freedom without the desire for reward, and were conducive to
high thoughts, so long as they educated their Faith, so long might they be
expected not to decline, but to prosper.
Verses 12—14. While the Blessed One remained at Rajagaha he instructed
his disciples. Then he went with Ananda and a large company of the brethren to Ambalatthika.
Verses 15—18. Then the Blessed One went with Ananda to Nalanda and stayed in the
Pavarika mango grove. There the venerable Sariputta came to him saying that he
believed the Blessed One to be the greatest of all the Buddhas, past, present,
or future. Buddha, after asking him if he knew what all those of the past had
been like, what all those of the future would be like, and, what he himself
really was, and receiving replies in the negative, asked him how, then, he was
fitted to judge. Sariputta then acknowledged that he was wrong in jumping
immediately at the wide conclusion that this Buddha was the wisest of all the
Arahats, but said that he knew that those of the past had each of them to war
with the flesh, to gain the mastery over all those mental faults which made man
weak, to awaken the higher perception, to become enlightened; that he knew that
the Arahat Buddhas of the future would do the same; and he concluded that the
Arahat Buddha of the day had done so likewise.
Verses 19—25. The Blessed One and Ananda next went to Pataligama. The
disciples there invited him to their summer rest-house. Buddha accepted the
invitation, went to the rest- house, washed his feet, entered the hall, and
seated himself against the centre pillar with his feet to the East. The brethren
also washed their feet, entered the hall, and took their seats around the
Blessed One, against the Western wall and facing the East. Then the Pataligama
disciples, after washing their feet, seated themselves against the Eastern wall,
opposite the Blessed One, and facing the West. Buddha then lectured the
Pataligama disciples on wrong doing, and said that five-fold was the loss of the
wrong doer. He falls into poverty through sloth, his evil repute gets noised
abroad, whatever society he enters, he enters shyly and
confused, he dies full of anxiety, and he is reborn in an unhappy state. The
gain of the well doer is also five-fold. He acquires great wealth through his
industry, has good reports of him spread abroad whatever society he enters, he
enters it with confidence, he dies without anxiety, and he is born in a happy
and felicitous state. Buddha continued to teach them far into the night. Then he
dismissed them and retired to his private chamber.
Verses 26—32. At Pataligama Buddha prophesied that that fortress
would become the chief of cities, but that three dangers hung over it—those of
fire, of water, and of dissention. Later the chief ministers of Magadha, Sunidha,
and Vassakara, proceeded to where Buddha was and invited him to dinner with
them, together with the company of the brethren. Buddha accepted and went to
dinner with them. After the meal he gave thanks and went his way. And the gate
he went out at they called Gautama’s gate.
Verses 33—34 But the Blessed One went on to the river.
At
that time the Ganges was overflowing. Some were seeking boat- some wood rafts,
some basket-work rafts, to cross. Buddha on an instant vanished from one side of
the river and stood on the other with the company of the brethren. As he beheld
the people looking for boats and rafts he broke forth into song:—
They who cross
the ocean drear,
Making a solid path across the pools—
While the vain world ties its basket rafts—
These are the wise, these are the saved indeed!”
CHAPTER II.
Verse
1—5. The Blessed One proceeded with Ananda and a great company
of the brethren to Kotigama, and stayed therein
in the village itself. There he told the brethren that it was through not
understanding and grasping the four Noble Truths that they had to wander so long
on earth and be often re-born. Upon the disciples asking what these four Noble
Truths were, he replied that the first was that about Sorrow, the second that
about the cause of Sorrow, the third that about the cessation of Sorrow, and the
fourth that about the Path which leads to that cessation, adding-that when these
Noble Truths are grasped and known, the craving for existence is rooted out,
that which leads to renewed existence is destroyed and there is no more birth.
And at this place also he instructed his disciples.
Verse 5—11. After remaining at Kotigama for a convenient length of time they
proceeded to the village of Nadika. There the Blessed One stayed at the Brick
Hall. Ananda seated himself beside him, and after informing him that the brother
Salha, the sister Nanda, the devout Sudatta, and others, had all died at Nadika,
he asked where they would be reborn and what would be their destiny. Buddha
replied that Salha, through the destruction of the great evils, had, by himself
and while on earth, attained to Arhatship and to emancipation of heart and mind’
the sister Nanda, by the complete destruction of the five bonds that bind people
to this world, had become an inheritor of the highest heavens and would never
return to earth; the devout Sudatta, by the complete destruction of the three
bonds, and by the reduction to a minimum of lust, hatred, and delusion, had become a Sakadagamin,
and would make an end of Sorrow in his next rebirth; the others had passed away
to the highest heavens never to be reborn, as also had more than fifty devout
men of Nadika. Buddha then told Ananda that more than
ninety devout men of that place who had died had become Sakadagamins by their
efforts, and in their next birth they would make an end of Sorrow; while five
hundred had advanced themselves so that they were no longer liable to be reborn
in a state of suffering, and were assured of final salvation. Then he proceeded
to tell Ananda of the Mirror of Truth, which, if an elect disciple possesses, he
may predict of himself that he could never be reborn as a soulless being or in
any place of woe, being no longer liable to be reborn in a state of suffering,
and assured of final salvation. This Mirror of Truth was the consciousness in
the elect disciple that he had faith in the Buddha and his philosophy; that that
was the Truth and that it was of infinite advantage to the whole world, passing
never away, welcoming all, leading to salvation, and to be attained to by the
wise, each one for himself. Also the consciousness that the disciple had faith
in the Order, believing that it was worthy of honor, of hospitality, of gifts
and of reverence; that it was the supreme sowing-ground of merit for the world;
and that it was possessed of the virtues of the good and wise, those which make
men truly free, being conducive to high and holy thought. And again, at the
Brick Hall, the Blessed One addressed to the brethren that comprehensive
religious discourse on the nature of upright conduct , and of earnest
contemplation, and of intelligence.
Verses 12—25. The Blessed One next proceeded to Vesali, and stayed at
Ambapali’s grove. Here the Buddha addressed the brethren and said: “Let a
Brother, O Ye who have renounced the World, be mindful and thoughtful; this is our instruction to you”. Then
he proceeded to tell them how a brother should so act as to become mindful.
While he dwelt in the body he should so regard it that, being strenuous,
thoughtful, and mindful, he might, whilst in the world, overcome the grief which
arises from bodily craving; and also, while subject to sensations, he should so
regard them that by analysis he might overcome the grief arising from the
craving which follows sensation, and lastly, while he thinks and reasons, he
should overcome the grief which arises from the craving due to ideas. He went on
to inform them as to how a brother should act so as to become thoughtful.
Whatever action he performed should be performed with his entire nature
concentrated upon it and in full presence of mind; in going out and in coming
in, in looking and watching, in bending in his arm or in stretching it forth, in
wearing his robes or in carrying his bowl, in eating or drinking, in consuming
or tasting, in walking or standing or sitting, in sleeping or waking, in talking
and in being silent. Thus he exhorted them to be mindful and thoughtful. Just
about this time the courtesan Ambapali, hearing that the Blessed One was in
Vesali and was staying in her mango grove, determined to pay him a visit. With
her train she proceeded to where he was and took her seat respectfully at his
side. And he instructed, aroused, incited, and gladdened her with religious
discourse. Thereupon she invited him with all the brethren to dinner with her
the next day. On his accepting the invitation—signifying his consent by his silence—she arose and departed to her carriages.
The Lichchhavis of Vesali also heard that the Blessed One was in their city.
They ordered a number of carriages to be made ready, and proceeded with great
splendor to the grove. As they proceeded to where the Buddha was they met
Ambapali, who stopped them, saying: “My Lords, I have just invited the Blessed
One and his brethren for their morrow’s meal “. Whereupon they at once tried to
bribe her to give up the meal. But she refused, saying that she would not give
up so honorable a feast even if they offered her the whole of Vesali with all
its subject territory. Then the Lichchhavis cast up their hands, exclaiming: “We
are outdone by this mango girl! “, and they went on to the grove. There they
alighted and went to Buddha and seated themselves at his side. And he instructed
and incited and roused and gladdened them with religious discourse. Then they
also invited him to dinner on the morrow with all the brethren. But he refused,
saying that he had promised to dine with Ambapali. And again exclaiming that
they were outdone by a
courtesan, they expressed their thanks and approval of the words of the Blessed
One, bowed before him and departed. The next day Buddha and the brethren went to
Ambapali’s dwelling house. And Ambapali waited on them with sweet rice and
cakes, and the Order sat together, with the Buddha at the head. When the Blessed
One had finished his meal the courtesan had a low stool brought, and seating
herself at his feet said: “Lord, I present this mansion to the Order of which
the Buddha is the chief.
The Blessed one accepted the gift, and again instructed her with religious
discourse. Then he arose with the brethren and departed thence. While at the
mango grove also the Blessed One instructed his disciples.
Verses 26—30. They next proceeded to Beluva, and there the Blessed One
stayed in the village itself. But the rainy season being about to commence, he
dismissed the brethren, telling them to take up their abode about Vesali during
that season. He himself would remain at Beluva. Shortly after the rainy season
commenced the Buddha was smitten with a dire sickness, and sharp pains came
upon him, even unto death. But the Blessed One, mindful and self-possessed, bore
them without complaint. Then the thought occurred to him that it would not be
right for him to pass away without addressing his disciples and taking leave of
the Order. So, by a strong effort of will he bent the sickness down again and
kept his hold on life until the time he fixed upon should come.
Verses 31—35. Presently he recovered. And he went out from the monastery and sat
down behind it on a seat spread out there. Ananda went to him and sat down
beside him, saying that he had perceived the sickness of the Blessed One and had
felt it keenly; but he had taken some comfort in the thought that the Blessed
One would not leave existence until he had left instructions concerning the
Order. Buddha replied asking Ananda if the Order expected that of him, after he
had preached to them the whole truth. “The Tathagata*, Ananda, thinks not that it
is he who should lead the Brotherhood or that the Order is dependent on him. Why
then should he leave instructions in any matter concerning it? I, too, O Ananda,
am now grown old, and full of years, my journey is drawing to its close; I have
reached my sum of days, I am turning eighty years of age. And as a worn-out
cart, Ananda, can only with much care be made to move along, so methinks the
body of the Tathagata can only be kept agoing with much additional care. It is
only, Ananda, when the
* The Buddha.
Tathagata, ceasing to attend to any outward thing or to experience any
sensation, becomes plunged in that devout meditation of heart which is concerned
with no material object—it is only then that the Tathagata is at ease.
Therefore, O Ananda, be ye lamps unto yourselves! Be a refuge to
yourselves! Betake yourselves to no external refuge! Hold fast to the truth as a
lamp! Hold fast as a refuge to the truth! Look not for refuge to anyone besides
yourselves!
“And whosoever, Ananda, either now, or after I am dead, shall be a lamp unto
themselves, and a refuge unto themselves, shall betake themselves to no external
refuge, but holding fast to the truth as their lamp, and holding fast as their
refuge to the truth, shall look not to refuge to anyone besides themselves—it is
they, Ananda, among my Bhikshus *, who shall reach the very topmost
Height !—but
they must be anxious to learn.”
(To be continued.)
* Renouncers of the World.
NOTICE.
The “Maha-Parinabana Sutta” will be completed in the next issue and then will be commenced a series of papers on ‘‘The World’s Religions” opening with a study of Islamism. These papers are destined to instruct American Theosophists generally concerning the religions of the world and it is hoped that they will be carefully studied by members. The “Laws of Manu” will probably receive attention subsequently.
NO.
14.—NOVEMBER, 1893.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
SECOND YEAR.
THE BOOK OF THE GREAT DECEASE. pgs. 17-32
MAHA-PARINIBBANA SUTTA.
(Concluded from No. 13, June, 1893.)
CHAPTER III.
VERSES 1—3. Now the Blessed One robed himself early in the morning,
and taking his bowl in the robe went into Vesali for
alms, and when he had returned he sat down on the seat prepared for him, and
after he had finished eating the rice he addressed the venerable Ananda and
said, “Take up the mat, Ananda; I will go to spend the day at the Chapala
Chetiya “. Ananda, assenting, took up the mat and followed step for step behind
the Blessed One. And when he had come to Vesali he said to Ananda, “How
delightful a spot, Ananda, is Vesali and the Udena Chetiya and the Gotamaka
Chetiya and the Sattambaka Chetiya and the Bahupatta Chetiya ,and the Sarandada
Chetiya and the Chapala Chetiya.
“Ananda, whoever has thought out, developed and practiced,
accumulated and
ascended to the very heights of the four paths to Iddhi 1 and so mastered
them as to be able to use them as a means of mental advancement and as a basis
for edification, he, should
1 Note, Iddhi means power, as Siddhi in
Sanskrit.
he desire it, could remain in the same birth for a kalpa or for that portion
of the kalpa which is yet to run. Now the Tathagata has thought them out and
thoroughly practised and developed them, and could therefore, should he desire
it, live on yet for a kalpa or for that portion of the kalpa which has yet to
run.”
Verses 4—6. But even though such an evident suggestion was thus given by the
Blessed One to Ananda, the latter was incapable of comprehending it, and he
besought not the Blessed One, saying, “Vouchsafe, Lord, to remain during the
kalpa. Live on through the kalpa, O Blessed One, for the good and happiness of
the great multitudes, out of pity for the world, for the good and the gain and
the weal of gods and men”; so far was his heart possessed by the Evil one. A
second and a third time did the Blessed One say the same thing, and so far was Ananda’s heart thus hardened. And the Blessed One said to the venerable Ananda
that he might leave him awhile, and Ananda, saluting him, rose and sat down at
the foot of a tree not far off.
Verse 7—10. Not long after Ananda had been gone, Mâra the Evil One
approached the Blessed One, and standing there addressed him
“Pass away, Lord, now from existence: let the Blessed One now die, even according to the word which the Blessed One spoke when he said,
‘I shall not die, O Evil One, until the brethren and sisters and the lay
disciples of either sex shall become true hearers, wise and well trained, ready
and learned, versed in the scriptures, fulfilling all the greater and the lesser
duties, correct in life, walking according to the precepts; shall be able to
tell it to others, preach it, make it known, establish it, open it minutely,
explain it and make it clear; shall, when others start vain doctrine, be able by
the truth to vanquish and refute it and to spread the wonder-working truth
abroad’. And now, Lord, all these brethren and sisters have become all and are
able to do all this. Pass away, therefore, for the time has come, even according
to the word of the Blessed One when he said, ‘I shall not die until this pure
religion of mine shall have become successful, prosperous, widespread, and
popular to its full extent; until, in a word, it shall have been well-proclaimed
to all men’, for thy purer religion has now become all this, and the time has
come for the Blessed One to pass away”.
And when he had thus spoken, the Blessed One addressed Mâra and said : “O Evil
One, make thyself happy; the final extinction of the Tathagata shall take place
before long. At the end of three months from this time the Tathagata will die ‘.
Thus the Blessed One while at Chapala deliberately and consciously
rejected the
rest of his allotted sum of life. And on his so rejecting it there arose a
mighty earthquake and the thunders of heaven burst forth. And on beholding this
the Blessed One said this hymn of exaltation:
His sum of life the Sage renounced,
The cause of life immeasureable or small;
With inward joy and calm he broke
Like coat of mail his life’s own cause.
Verses 11—12. Now the venerable Ananda thought: “Wonderful and marvellous
is this mighty earthquake, and that the thunders of heaven should burst forth!
What may be the proximate and remote cause of this ?“ Then he went up to
the Blessed One, and after saluting him seated himself respectfully at one side
and asked him what was the cause remote and proximate of the earthquake.
Verses 13—16. ‘Eight are the proximate and eight the remote causes for
the appearance of a mighty earthquake. What are the eight? This great earth is
established on water, the water on wind, and the wind rests on space. And when
the mighty winds blow they shake the mighty waters, and by the moving waters the
earth is shaken. These are the first causes, proximate and remote. Again,
Ananda, a Samana or a Brahman of great power and who has the feelings of his
heart well under control; or a god or devata’ of great might and power;
who by intense meditation on the finite idea of earth or the infinite idea of
earth has succeeded in realizing the real value of things, he can make this
earth tremble and be shaken violently.2 These are the second causes, proximate
and remote.
Again, when a Bodhisatta consciously and deliberately leaves his temporary form
in the heaven of delight and descends into the womb, then this earth shakes and
trembles. These are the third causes. And when a Bodhisatta deliberately and
consciously quits his mother’s womb, then also does the earth tremble. This is
the fourth cause.
Verses 17—20. Again, Ananda, when a Tathagata arrives at the supreme and
perfect enlightenment, then the earth quakes and trembles and is violently
shaken, and this is the fifth cause. And when a Tathagata founds the sublime
kingdom of righteousness is there a trembling which is the sixth cause. Again,
when a Tathagata consciously and deliberately rejects the remainder of his life,
the earth quakes, and this is the seventh cause. And
1 Note, devata means one of the nature sprites.
2 Note, one of the first practices given to the Buddhist disciple is to
meditate on the earth both as an abstract idea and as mere earth.
when a
Tathagata passes entirely away with that utter passing away in which nothing
whatever
is left behind, then is the earth shaken violently. This is the eighth cause.
(ED. At this point there is a break in connection and the next verse continues
abruptly with another subject. The translator says it suggests the manner of
composition.)
Verses 21—23. The eight kinds of assemblies are as follows: of nobles, of
Brahmanas, of householders, Samanas, the angel hosts of guardian angels, the
great thirty-three, Mara, and Brahma. Now, Ananda, I call to mind that when I
used to enter into an assembly of many hundred nobles, before I had seated
myself or begun conversation, I became like unto them in color and in voice.
Then with religious discourse I used to instruct, incite, and fill them with
gladness. But they knew me not when I spoke, and would say, “Who may this be who
thus speaks, a man or a god ?“ Then having instructed and gladdened them,
I would vanish away, at which they wondered “. And referring to
all the other kinds of assemblies, the Blessed One told how he, used to appear
there, teach, and vanish away.
Verses 24-32. There are eight positions of mastery over the delusions
arising from the apparent permanence of things.
When a man having subjectively the idea of form sees externally forms which are
finite, pleasant, or unpleasant, and having mastered them is conscious that he
sees and knows, that is the first. And when in the same way he sees forms that
are boundless, unpleasant, or pleasant, masters them, and is conscious that he
sees and knows, that is the second position. When without the idea of form
subjectively, the same as above is the case, these are the third and fourth.
When without the idea of form he sees forms that are blue in color, blue in
appearance, and reflecting blue as the Umma flower or a piece of fine Benares
muslin, and having mastered them and is conscious that he sees and knows, that
is the fifth position. The sixth, seventh, and eighth positions are explained in
identical words with those for the fifth, except that yellow is substituted with
red and white for blue, and for the Umma flower are given the Karika flower, the
Bandhu jivaka, and the morning star as examples.
Verses 33—42. Now these stages of deliverance from the hindrance of thought
arising from the sensations and ideas due to external forms are eight in number.
First, a man possessed with the idea of form sees form. The second is, without
the subjective idea of form he sees form externally. Becoming intent on what he
sees, with the thought. “It is well”
is the third stage. By passing quite beyond all idea of form, putting an end to
all resistance, paying no attention to the idea of distinction, thinking “It is
all infinite space”, he mentally reaches and remains in that state of mind in
which that idea alone is present, it is the fourth stage. Passing beyond the
last stage, thinking “It is all infinite reason”, reaching and remaining
mentally in that state of mind, is the fifth stage. Passing quite beyond the
stage of infinity of reason, thinking “Nothing at all exists”, he reaches
mentally and remains in the state of when nothing at all is specially present,
this is the sixth stage. The seventh is reached by passing beyond the last stage
and remaining in the state to which neither ideas nor the absence is present. By
passing quite beyond the state of ‘neither ideas nor the absence of ideas” he
reaches mentally and remains in the state of mind in which both sensations and
ideas have ceased to be—this is the eighth stage of deliverance.
Verses 43—55
“On one occasion, Ananda, I was resting under the shepherds’ Nogroda tree
on the banks of the Nerangara immediately after having reached the great
enlightenment, when Mara, the Evil One, came and addressed me, saying that I
should pass away from existence, for which the time had come. But I addressed
him, Ananda, and said that I should not die until not only the brothers and
sisters of the order but all the lay disciples had become true believers (here
he repeats what is before). And now again to-day, Ananda, the Evil One came to
me and addressed me in the same words, to which I replied that he
could make himself happy, as I should die in three months. Thus - I have to-day,
at the Kapala Chetiya, consciously and deliberately
rejected the rest of my allotted term of life.” And then Ananda addressed the
Blessed One and asked him to remain for the rest of the Kalpa for the good and
happiness of the world, out of pity, for the gain of gods and men. But the Lord
replied: “Enough now, Ananda; beseech not the Tathagata; the time for making
such request is past”.
Three times in the same way did Ananda request him to remain on earth, receiving
the same reply, until the third time when the Blessed One asked him if he had
faith in the wisdom of the Tathagata, and Ananda saying he had, the Lord asked
him why he had asked him to the third time. When Ananda repeated what the
Blessed One had told him of the ability of a Tathagata to remain during the
Kalpa, or its remaining portion, the Lord asked him again if he had faith, to
which Ananda replied, Yes.
“Then,” said
the Blessed One, “thine is the fault in that, when a suggestion so evident and a
hint so clear were given thee, thou didst not comprehend them and ask me to
remain as thou just now hast. If thou shoulds’t then have besought the Tathagata,
the appeal might have been rejected to the second time, but at the third time it
would have been granted. Thine, therefore, O Ananda, thine is the fault, thine
is the offence.”
Verses 56—62. The Tathagata then related to Ananda how once he was
dwelling at Rajagraha on the bill Vulture’s Peak and had there spoken to him of
its pleasantness and then told him how a Tathagata could, if he wished, remain
in the world for a Kalpa, and yet that Ananda had not asked him. For that
reason, he said, the fault and offence were Ananda’s. He then recalled
specifically to Ananda’s memory nine other occasions when the same remarks had
been made about remaining in the world, but that at each Ananda had failed to
ask him to remain. Also how at Vesali the same thing took place on five
different occasions, and now at the very place, at the Kapala Chetiya, the same
words, had been used and the same hint given with the same result.
Verses 63—64. Then the Tathagata reminded Ananda how he had formerly declared it
to be in the very nature of things that we should divide ourselves from them,
leave them. “Everything born, brought into being, and organized, contains within
itself the inherent necessity of dissolution”. And then he said that he having
renounced mortality and given up his remaining sum of life, it was impossible
that the Tathagata should for the sake of living repent of that saying. Then he
requested Ananda to go with him to the Kulagasa Hall to see the Mahavana. They
proceeded then to the Mahavana, and when they arrived Ananda was sent to
assemble in the Service Hall such of the brethren as resided in the neighborhood
of Vesali. And when the brethren were assembled, Ananda said to the Blessed One,
“Lord, the assembly of the brethren has met together. Let the Blessed One do
even as seemeth to him fit”.
Verse 65. Then the Blessed One went to, the Hall, and seated on a mat addressed
the brethren. He told them to thoroughly master, to practise, meditate upon, and
spread abroad the truths perceived by him which he had made known to them, so as
to cause the pure religion to remain and be perpetuated for the benefit of the
world, for the good and the gain of gods and men. Then asking him what were
those truths so given by him, he repeated them thus:
The four earnest meditations;
The fourfold
great struggle against sin;
The four roads to saintship;
The five moral powers;
The five organs of spiritual sense;
The seven kinds of wisdom;
The noble eightfold path.
Verse 66. Exhorting the brethren he said: “All component things must grow old.
Work out your salvation with diligence.
The final extinction of the Tathagata will take place before long. At the end of
three months from this time the Tathagata will die.
My age is now full ripe, my life draws to its close;
I leave you, I depart, relying on myself alone.
Be earnest then, O Brethren, holy, full of thought.
Be steadfast in resolve. Keep watch o’er your own hearts.
Who wearies not, but holds fast to this truth and law.
Shall cross this sea of life, shall make an end of grief.”
CHAPTER IV.
Verses 1—4. Early in the morning the Blessed One robed himself, and
taking his bowl entered Vesali for alms, and when he had passed through and
eaten his meal he gazed at Vesali with an elephant look,1 saying to Ananda it
would be the last time he should see it. He then went to Bhandagama. There he
addressed the brethren, saying that he and they had to go so long through
transmigrations because they had not understood the four truths of noble conduct
of life, noble earnest meditation, noble wisdom, noble salvation of freedom.
When all these are known the craving for existence is rooted out, that which
leads to rebirth is destroyed, and there is no rebirth. There, too, at Bhandagama the Blessed One discoursed of upright conduct, contemplation, and
intelligence. “Great the fruit and advantage of contemplation, of intellect, and
of conduct when set round with each other. Thus the mind is freed from
sensuality, individualism, and ignorance,—the great evils.”
Verses 5—16. From there he went to Hathigama, from there to Ambagama, to
Jambugama, to Bhojanagara. At the last place he addressed the brethren to teach
them the four great References. The first is when one says the truth is so and
he has thus heard from the Master, he must not be scorned nor praised, but with
calmness his words are to be compared with the scripture and the rules of the
order. If they agree, then it is to be accept-
1 “The Elephant Look” is an Indian metaphor. It is held there that the
Sage is so built physically that in order to look back or around he has to turn
his whole body majestically as the elephant does: hence the phrase.
ed; if they
do not, you are to say that the brother has wrongly grasped the words. The
second is when one says he received it from a company of brethren and elders.
The same comparison is to be made as before, and if not accepted you are to say
that the company of brethren and elders has wrongly grasped the truth. The third
is when one says the same as to a company of elders, in which the same course is
to be pursued. The fourth great reference is when one says he has the truth from
a brother well versed and read, in which case the same rule is to be followed as
in the others.
And there too he held a comprehensive discourse on conduct and life and
intelligence and meditation. He then went to Pava with a great company and
stayed in the mango grove of Chunda the smith, who when he heard of the arrival
went and saluting the Blessed One sat down at one side. Then the Blessed One
instructed Chunda with religious discourse, which being ended, Chunda invited him
and the brethren for the next day’s meal. By silence the Blessed One consented,
seeing which Chunda rose, bowed down, and keeping the Blessed One on his right
hand as he passed him departed thence.
Verses 17—23. At the end of the night, Chunda, having made ready sweet
rice, cakes, and a quantity of boar’s flesh, announced the hour and that the
meal was ready. The Blessed One robed himself early and went with the brethren
to Chunda’s house, and when he was seated he said, “As to the dried boar’s flesh
you have made ready, serve me with it ; and as to the other food, sweet
rice and cakes, serve the brethren with it.” This Chunda did. Then the Blessed
One said, “Whatever dried boar’s flesh is left over, that bury in a hole. I see
no one, Chunda, in earth, nor in Mara’s heaven, nor Brahma’s, no Samana or
Brahmana among gods or men, by whom when he has eaten it that food can be
assimilated, save by the Tathagata.” And Chunda did as he was told. Then the
Blessed One instructed him with religious discourse, after which he departed.
Then a dire sickness, dysentery, fell upon the Blessed One, even unto death:,
but mindful and self-possessed he bore it uncomplainingly. After that he went to
Kusinara.
Verses 24—32. The Blessed One went aside from the path to the foot of a
tree, and when he was seated asked Ananda to fetch water, as he was thirsty. But
Ananda told him that five hundred carts had just gone through the streamlet,
making it muddy, and advised going to the river Kakuttha not far off. Three
times he did this, and three times the Blessed One asked for drink. Then
Ananda went
and found that the streamlet where the carts had just passed and fouled was
running bright and free. “How wonderful, how marvellous,” thought Ananda, “is
the great might and power of the Tathagata!” And taking water in the bowl he
returned, relating the matter to his Lord.
Verses 33—46. At that time Pukkusa, a young Mallian, a disciple of Alara Kalama,
passed along the road, and seeing the Blessed One went up to him, saluted, and
sat down Then, after saying how wonderful it was to be so calm, related a story
of Alara Kalama’s not being disturbed in the least by not even seeing, though
awake, five hundred carts that passed him. The Blessed One asked him which was
the more difficult, to do as Alara Kalama or to do it when the rain was falling
and beating and thunder crashing as lightnings flashed; to which Pukkusa
replied, the latter was more difficult. Whereupon the Blessed One related how
once he was at a threshing-floor in such a storm when two men and four oxen were
killed, so that a great multitude of people came who disturbed him, and that he
had not known of the storm nor the deaths of the men and was wholly undisturbed.
At this Pukkusa said that he gave up his faith in Alara, and asked the Blessed
One to accept him as a believer. He then presented a pair of robes of burnished
cloth of gold to the Blessed One, who accepted them for himself and Ananda,
after which he instructed Pukkusa with religious discourse.
Verse 47—56. Not long after, Ananda placed the burnished robe on the body of the
Blessed One, and when it was so placed it appeared to have lost its splendor,
his skin was so bright, at which Ananda marvelled. Then the Blessed One
explained that on two occasions the body of a Tathagata becomes exceedingly
bright. The first is when he attains to supreme, perfect enlightenment, and the
other on the night when he passes finally away in that utter passing away which
leaves nothing whatever to remain. Then he said that that day, at the third
watch of the night, in the Upavattana of Kusinara, between the twin Sala trees
in the Sala grove of the Mallians, his utter passing away would take place.
Then they went to the river with a great company of brethren, where he bathed
and drank, and on the other side went up to the Mango Grove. Having come there
he lay down to rest on his right side, one foot resting on the other, and calm
and self-possessed he meditated on the idea of rising again.
Verses 57—58. Then the Blessed One addressed Ananda and said that it might
happen some one would stir up remorse in Chunda the smith by saying that when
the Tathagata had eaten
his last meal
with Chunda he had died, but that such remorse should be checked by saying it
was good and gain to the smith for the reason: “These two offerings of food are
of equal fruit and profit, and more than others. First, that food offered to a
Tathagata after which he gains supreme enlightenment; and second, the offering
of food after which he passes away with that utter passing away that leaves
nothing whatever behind.” Thus Chunda had laid up good karma for length of life,
good birth, good fortune, and heaven.
CHAPTER V.
Verses 1—15. They then went to the Sala Grove of the Malhans on the
other side of the river Hiranyavati, with a great company of the brethren, where
he lay down to rest. At that time the Sala trees were in full bloom out of
season with flowers which dropped over the body of the Tathagata as the
successor of all the
Buddhas, and heavenly music sounded, with celestial songs, out of reverence to
him: heavenly sandal powder fell also from the
skies. And the Blessed One said it was for him, to give him reverence as
successor to all the Buddhas. But he said that the right way for the brethren to
honor him was not thus, but by following his teachings, walking according to the
precepts, fulfilling all the greater and lesser duties of life. And while he was
thus saying the venerable Upavana was standing in front of him fanning him,
when the Blessed One asked him to stand aside. Ananda asked why he so told him,
as Upavana was a good man, long in the service. The Blessed One explained that
“For twelve leagues around the grove there is no spot in size even as the
pricking of the point of a hair which is not pervaded by powerful spirits,1 and
those complain and say that Tathagatas are few and far between, and now one is
to die, and here is this eminent brother Upavana who stands in front of the
Tathagata concealing him, so that in his last hour we cannot see him.” He said
those spirits were weeping, as they were worldly minded at the approaching
death of the Tathagata, and they were both of the sky and the earth; but other
spirits calm and self-possessed wept not, as they were mindful of the saying
that all component things could not last. Ananda then expressed sorrow that when
the Blessed One was gone they could no more receive good and great men and the
brethren to audience.
1 This is just what the religious disputers in the middle ages of Europe
discussed, “How many angels could stand on a space as large as the prick of a
needle point.”
Verses
16—22. The Blessed One said then that there were four sorts of places a
believing man might visit with feelings of
reverence : Where the Tathagata was
born where he attained to supreme and perfect enlightenment ; where he set on
foot the kingdom of righteousness ; where he passed finally away with
that utter passing away which leaves nothing whatever to remain behind. He said
that to such spots would come believers, brethren and sisters of the order,
relating what took place there ; and
those who died while journeying to them
would be reborn in the happy realms of heaven.
Verse 23. “How are we to conduct ourselves, Lord, with regard to
womankind ?“
“Don’t see them, Ananda.”
“But if we should see them, what are we to do?”
“Abstain from speech, Ananda.”
“But if they should speak to us, Lord, what are we to do?”
“Keep wide awake, Ananda.”
Verses 24—31. Ananda asked what was to be done with the remains of the
Tathagata, and he replied not to hinder themselves but be zealous in their own
behalf, to their own good, intent on it, as there were wise men, nobles,
householders who would do honor to the remains. As to the treatment of the
remains, he said it should be as with those of a king of kings, and then
described that. They should be wrapped in a new cloth, then in cotton wool, then
in new cloth, until there were five hundred successive layers of both kinds.
Then place the body in an oil vessel of iron, that to be covered with another
the same. A funeral pile should then be made of all kinds of perfumes, and then
all burned. At the four cross roads a dagoba should be erected to the Tathagata
for people to place perfumes and garlands for their own good. Then he enumerated
the four men worthy of a dagoba: A Tathagata, a Paccheka Buddha, a true hearer
of the word, and a king of kings. Because at the thought had by persons that at
such a place is a dagoba of a Tathagata, they would be calm and happy, leading
to a good state in heaven. And the same reasons were given for the other cases.
Verses 32—44. Then the venerable Ananda went into the temple and wept at
the thought that he was still a learner and that the Master so kind to him was
about to pass away. His absence was noticed by the Buddha, who being told of his
weeping called him, and Ananda came, and then the Blessed One comforted him and
told him how all component things had to pass away, reminding him how so often
that had been taught. He also said how often Ananda had been near and done acts of love for him never
varying and beyond measure, the same in word and thought also, and that if he
was earnest he would soon be free from all evils ad ignorance. Then he told the
brethren that in the long past whenever there was a Buddha there were servitors
like Ananda, and so it would be in the future. He extolled Ananda’s wisdom, how
he knew the right time to visit himself and let others visit the Buddha, and
that he had four wonderful qualities, bringing joy by his presence and by his
words, and people not being at ease if he were silent. Ananda then reminded the
Buddha that it was not well to die in a little wattel town, a mere village like
Kusinara, as there were many cities where great, good, and noble men would do
honor to his remains. But the Blessed One said that formerly that town was a
great city ruled by Maha-Sudasanna under the name of Kusavati; that it was
prosperous, full of people, and happy.
Verses 45—69. The Blessed One then sent Ananda to the Mallas of Kusinara to tell
them that in the last watch of the night he would finally pass away, and for
them to give no occasion to reproach themselves afterwards if they did not visit
him. At that time the Mallas were holding a council, and Ananda told them as he
was bid. When the people heard it they wept and bewailed the passing away of the
Light of the World. They then went in a body to visit the Tathagata, and Ananda
arranged it so that they went in groups, presenting the headmen to the Buddha,
for fear otherwise all the time would be used. And at the same time a mendicant
named Subhadda living there heard the news and thought that as Tathagatas seldom
came it would be well to visit him, as he had a doubt whether his teachers were
right. So he went to the Sala grove and asked permission of Ananda to see the
Buddha, but Ananda refused, as the Blessed One was weary. Buddha heard the
request refused three times, and then asked Ananda to admit the man, which he
did, as the Buddha said Subhadda would ask from a desire to know and not to
annoy, and would understand the answers.
Subhadda being admitted referred to many teachers and asked if they had rightly
comprehended. To this the Buddha replied that it might be waived as to whether
they had or had not understood, and he would tell the truth. He then said that
in whatever doctrine the noble eightfold path was not found there was no true
saintliness, but where it was found there was true saintliness. All other
systems were void of true saints. Subhadda was convinced and asked to be taken
into the order. The Buddha told
him there was
a four months’ probation, but that in his case he recognized a difference in
persons. Subhadda offered to go on probation for four months, but the Buddha
called Ananda and directed him to receive the mendicant into the order then. So
into the higher grade of the order Subhadda was taken, and immediately he
remained by himself, very soon attaining to the supreme goal. And he was the
last disciple the Blessed One himself converted.
CHAPTER VI.
Verse I—4. The Blessed One said to Ananda that in some the thought
might arise that the word of the Master was ended and they had no teacher, but
they should not think so, as the truths and rules of the order were the teacher.
Younger brothers might be addressed as friend, but the elders should be called
“Lord” or “Venerable Sir.” He said too that the lesser and minor precepts might
be abolished if the order so wished. And as to a brother named Channa he directed
that the higher penalty should be imposed. Ananda then asked what that was,1 and
he said “Let Channa say whatever he may like, the brethren should neither speak
to him, nor exhort him, nor admonish him.”
Verses 5—10. Referring to possible doubts, the Buddha asked the brethren
to freely inquire so as not to have self-reproach afterwards. This he asked them
three times, and each time they were silent, and then he asked them to speak to
each other, but they were silent, at which Ananda said no one had any doubts.
The Buddha told him he had spoken out of faith, but he himself knew none had
doubts and that the most backward had been converted and was sure of final
bliss. 2 Then the Blessed One addressed the brethren and said: “Behold
now, brethren, I exhort you, saying, ‘Decay is inherent in all component things.
Work out your salvation with diligence.’” This was the last word of the
Tathagata.
Verses 11—21. Then the Blessed One entered into the first stage of deep
meditation, from which he passed into the second, and from that to the third, to
the fourth, from that to where infinity of space only was present, then to where
but infinity of thought was present, then to where nothing at all was present,
and from that into a state between consciousness and unconsciousness; and from
that to where consciousness of sensations and ideas had
1 From this it seems the higher penalty had not been laid down before.
2 It is said that this was said to encourage Ananda who was the most
backward.
wholly passed
away. Then Ananda said to Anuruddha that the Blessed One was dead, but Anuruddha
replied he was not dead but was in the state where sensations and ideas had
ceased to be. Then the Blessed One passed out of that state back to between
consciousness and unconsciousness, from that to having nothing specially
present, from that to infinity of thought alone; passing from that to where the
infinity of space was present alone, he entered the fourth state of meditation,
from that to the third, to the second, to the first; back again to the second,
to the third, to the fourth, and then he immediately expired. And then there
arose a mighty awe-inspiring earthquake with thunder from heaven. Brahma-Sahampati
uttered verses, and Sakka the king of the gods repeated stanzas on dissolution.
So also did Anuruddha, as well as Ananda. Some of the brethren not yet free from
passion wept and rolled to and fro in anguish, but those who were free said, “Impermanent are all component things. How is it
possible that they should not be dissolved?” And Anuruddha
exhorted them all to the same effect, saying that even the spirits
would reproach them. On being asked of this he explained it in
the same way as before explained by the Master.
Verse 22—41. The rest of the night was spent in religious
discourse, and then the Mallas were informed of the Blessed One’s
death by Ananda at the council hall where they were assembled
on the same matter. And when they heard it they also wept.
Taking garlands and music and perfumes they went to where the
body of the Blessed One lay, and passed the day in paying reverence to it and in
music and dancing, making canopies and preparing decoration wreaths. This they
continued until the sixth day.
And on the seventh day they carried the body outside by the south
for cremation. Eight chieftains bathed their heads and put on
new garments, intending to bear the body, but they could not lift
it. Of this they inquired of Anuruddha, who told them that the
spirits desired to have the body carried by the north to enter by
the north to the midst of the city and then to go out by the eastern gate to the
shrine of the Mallas, called Makuta-bandhana to
the east of the city for cremation. To this the Mallas consented,
and at once there was a rain of Manadarava flowers from the sky, and the body
was carried out as directed. There they were told
what to do with the remains as told by the Blessed One to Ananda,
all of which they carried out. At that time venerable Maha-Kassap was coming
from Pava with five hundred brethren and rested
by the road, when an ascetic came along the road with a Mandarava flower he had
picked up at Kusinara. And Maha Kassapa
asked him if he knew the Master, to which he replied, “Yes, friend, I know him.
This day the Samana Gotama has been dead a week”.
Then those brethren wept except those free from passion. Subhadda, who had been
received in the order in his old age, said not to weep, that they were well rid
of the great Samana and would no longer be annoyed by being told what to do and
not to do. Now they would not be so annoyed any more.
Verse 42—50. At this time the four chieftains of the Mallas were about to
set fire to the funeral pile but were not able to do so, and they asked
Anuruddha the reason. He replied that the spirits had the purpose of not letting
it be lighted until Maha Kassapa came with his brethren, as now on the road. So
they waited. Maha Kassapa then came, and placing his robe on one shoulder he
uncovered the feet of the Blessed One and worshipped them, and the five hundred
brethren did the same. And when the homage of these brethren was ended the
funeral pile caught fire of itself. As the body burned away neither soot nor ash
was seen. Only the bones remained behind, and all the raiment was consumed. From
the sky fell streams of water when it was consumed and extinguished the fire.
And the Malias brought scented water also to extinguish it. And the bones were
placed in the Mallas’ council hall surrounded with a lattice work of spears and
a rampart of bows, homage and respect being paid to them for seven days.
Verse 51—61. Then the king of Maghada and others heard the news and sent asking
for portions of the remains from many different quarters, each enumerating
reasons, some that as Buddha was of the soldier caste they were entitled to
them. When the Mallas had all these requests they said they would give none
away, as he died with them. But Dona the Brahmin counselled them, as Buddha had
preached moderation, that no strife ought to arise over him, advising that eight
portions be made so that in every land stupas might arise that mankind
might trust the enlightened one. To this they all agreed, and Dona made the
division, asking for himself the vessel.
Verse 61. The Moriyas of Pipphalivana having heard the news of the passing away
and cremation asked: “The Blessed One belonged to the soldier caste, and we too
are of that caste. We are worthy to receive a portion of the relics. Over the
remains we will erect a cairn and we will celebrate a feast.” And when they
heard that no portion of the remains was left, they took away the embers.
Verse 62. At Rajagaha a mound was made over the remains; at Vesali another; one at
Allakappa; another at Ramagama; one at Vethadipaka; in Pava another; at Kusinara
one. Dona made one over the vessel in which the body was burnt, and the Moriyas
of Piphalivana made one over the embers and held a feast. Thus were eight mounds
made over the remains, and one for the vessel and one for the embers.
No. 15.—JANUARY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE NEW YEAR. p. 1
THE ORIENTAL, DEPARTMENT gives New Year’s greeting to all in the West who love
the East; to all in the New World whose hearts go out to the wisdom of the Old,
garnered under deep blue Indian skies, in the Golden Age, the spring-time of the
world.
In this new year we shall try to recall the Genius of that Golden Age with its
pure living and high thinking, through the great UPANISHADS, the recorded wisdom
of those old Indian days.
Long after the Golden Age of India had closed, two Great Men, by power of intellect and luminousness of soul, caught the light of that earlier, brighter
time, and kindled it again in the hearts of men.
These two were GAUTAMA BUDDHA, greatest of warrior Kshattriyas; and
SHANKARACHARYA, greatest of priestly Brahmins. After the Upanishads, their
teaching will chiefly occupy us.
THE GREAT UPANISHADS. p. 2
“From every page of the Upanishads, deep, original, lofty thoughts step forth to
meet us while a high and holy earnestness breathes over all. This is the richest
and loftiest study possible in the world it has been the comfort of my life,
and will be the comfort of my death.”
—.SCHOPENHAUER.
ALL that Narada and the Seven Sages knew is contained in the twelve Great
Upanishads. They are the Vedanta— Veda-end—as being the crown and end of
Vedic wisdom and as ending the Vedas in their collected form.
Indian tradition tells us that Vyasa, the Arranger, compiled the four Vedas—Rig
Veda, Yajur Veda, Sama Veda, Atharva Veda—in the days of the Mahabharata War
between the Pandu and Kuru princes, five thousand years ago.
Vyasa, or Indian tradition before him, linked the great Upanishads to one or
other collection of Vedic hymns ; thus the Aitareya Upanishad is joined to the
Rig Veda; Katha Upanishad to the Yajur Veda; Kena Upanishad to the Sama Veda;
Mundaka Upanishad to the Atharva Veda.
How much older than Vyasa’s days, five milleniums back, is the wisdom of the
Upanishads? “Thus have we heard from those of old who taught us”, the Upanishads
tell us, and nothing more.
We can only say
Brahmins but Kshttriyas; not priests but king
the mighty Râjanya race. But it would perhaps be truest to say that the
wisdom of the Upanishads is as old as the divinity of man; as old as Brahmâ,
‘former of all, and guardian of the world’.
We shall translate these twelve great Upanishads one by one, in the spirit of
Indian thought and Indian earnestness; adding such commentary as comparison may
suggest, such light as study and thought can give.
In the words of Anquetil Duperron, the first European who read the Upanishads:
Here, reader, is the key of India’s sanctuary, somewhat rough with rust.
Enter, if thou darest, if thou canst, with pure and clean heart, drawing near to
the highest being, and merging in it. Let the outer senses rest; awaken the
inner. Let thy body be as dead, and sunk in the ocean of wisdom and unwisdom.
Know it—after Indian custom—as a divine law, that thou seest nothing but the
Eternal; that nothing is, but the Eternal.
No. 15.—JANUARY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
A VEDIC MASTER.
p. 2-6
Translated from the Upanishad of the Questions.”
PRASHNA UPANISHAD.
THESE men, Sukesha Bharadvaja, Shaivya Satyakama, Sauryayani Gargya,
Kaushalya Ashvalayana, Bhargava Vaidharbhi, and Kabandhi Katyayana, bent on the
Eternal, following the Eternal, were seeking the Supreme Eternal.
And they came to the Master Pippalada, with kindling-wood in their hands, saying
‘He will declare it all to us’.
And the Sage said to them: ‘Live together a year more, in fervor, faith, and
service of the Eternal; then ask what questions you will. If we know them, we
shall declare all to you.’
So Kabandhi Katyayana, approaching, asked: ‘Master, whence are all these beings
produced?’
And he answered him: ‘The Lord of beings, desiring to produce, brooded with
fervor. And brooding with fervor, he produced a Pair. They were Body and Life.
These will make manifold beings for me, said he.
‘The sun is life; the moon is body. All that is formed is body, and the formless
[is life]. For form is body.
‘The sun, rising, enters the eastern quarter, and thus guides the eastern lives
among his rays. And as he enters the southern and western and northern quarters,
above and below and the quarters between, he illuminates all and guides all
lives among his rays.
‘And this universal manifold life rises as fire. Hence it is said in the Vedic
verse
— The all-formed golden lord of fire, the great light, giver of warmth;
—Thousand-rayed, turning a hundred ways, the life of beings rises, —the sun.
‘The circling year is a lord of beings; his paths are the south and the north.
Therefore those who worship by purification and sacrifices win the lunar world.
They verily return to the world again. Hence those sages who desire offspring
turn, to the south. For this is the body, and the path of the fathers.
‘But by the northern path, by fervor, faith, and service of the Eternal, and by
knowledge, seeking the Self, others win the sun. For it is the home of lives;
the deathless, fearless, the higher way. From it they return not to the
world. It is final rest.
‘And there is this Vedic
verse:
—They call him in the sky, the father with five feet [seasons] and twelve faces
[months], and in the one half [-year] he is giver of increase;
—And in the other [sense] they say he is giver of wisdom, seated in the chariot
with seven wheels of six spokes.
‘The month is a lord of beings. The black half is body, the white half is life.
Hence these sages sacrifice in the white half; but others in the other half. And
day-and-night is a lord of beings. Day is life; night is body.
‘‘Food also is a lord of beings; whence seed comes; whence these beings are
produced. Hence those who perform the vow for offspring produce a pair.
‘Theirs, indeed, is that eternal world, who have fervor and service of the
Eternal, and in whom truth is set firm.
‘Theirs, truly, is that passionless, eternal world; but not theirs in whom are
crookedness, untruth, illusion.’
And so Bhargava Vaidarbhi asked him; ‘Master, how many bright ones support
being? Which of them illumine it? And who is chief among them?’
To him he answered: ‘There is the bright ether, and air, and fire, the waters,
and earth, voice, thought, sight, hearing. They illumining, declare—We support
this life, establishing it.
‘Then Life, the chief of them, said: Cherish not this illusion! I, dividing
myself fivefold, support this life, establishing it !
‘But the others were incredulous. So Life made as if to go out above ;
and as he Went out, all the others went out; and when he returned, all the
others returned.
‘As the bees all follow the honey-makers’ king, departing, and return when he
returns, so did voice, thought, sight and hearing; joyful they sing the praise
of Life:
—This, as fire, warms; this as the sun, as the rain-god; the thunderer; wind,
and the earth; as body; as the bright one; and being, and non-being, and the
immortal.
—Like the spokes in a nave, all this is fixed in Life. So are the Rig, and Yajur,
and Sama hymns; and sacrifice, and warrior, and priest.
— Thou art lord of beings in the germ: and thou it is that art born forth. To
thee, Life, these beings bring oblations; to thee, who art manifested by the
lives.
—Thou art the fire of the gods; the first oblation of the fathers. Thou art the
wisdom of the sages; the truth of sacrificial priests.
—Thou, Life, art Indra with his brightness. Thou art Rudra, the preserver. As
the sun, thou movest in the sky ; thou art the master of the stars.
—When thou rainest, Life, then these thy children rise up with gladness. There
will be food, they say, according to our desire.
— Thou art the exile, Life: the lonely seer; the good master of all. We are
givers of the first offering ; thou art our father, the great breath.
—That form of thine that is manifest as voice, that form, that is in hearing and
in sight; that form of thine that spreads as thought; render that propitious! Go
not out!
—All this is in the power of Life, all that is set firm in the triple heaven.
Guard us as a mother her children; and as Fortune, give us wisdom!’
And so Kaushalya Ashvalayana asked: Master, whence is this Life born? How does
it enter this body? Or, dividing itself, how does become manifest? How does it
go out? How does it enfold what is outside? And how as to the Self?
And he answered him: ‘Thou askest many questions! But thou art bent on the
Eternal, and therefore I tell thee.
‘This Life is born from the Self; and, like this shadow beside a man, it extends
beside the Self. By the force of thought it enters this body.
‘Verily, as a sovereign commands his deputies: “Rule over those villages, and
these villages!” So also this life guides the lesser lives, disposing them. In
the lower organs the downward-life; in sight, hearing, mouth and nose, the
forward-life; in the center, the binding-life. This binds the food that is
offered, and from it issue seven rays.
‘In the heart is the Self; from thence go a hundred and one channels; from each
of these a hundred ; from these seventy-two thousand branch channels. In these,
the distributing-life moves.
‘By one channel the upward-life rises; by pure deeds it leads to the pure world;
by sin to the sinful world; by both to the human world.
‘As the sun, the outer life rises, linked with the life of the eye, and the
potency in the earth enters into and establishes the
downward life
of man. And the ether is linked with the binding-life; and the air with the
distributing-life; and fire with the upward life.
‘Hence one whose fire has burned out is reborn through the the tendencies
retained in mind; and according to his thoughts he enters life. But linked by
the fire with the Self, this life leads to a world of recompense.
‘Whoever, thus knowing, knows life, his offspring does not fail, he becomes
immortal. So there is this verse:
—Knowing the beginning, the range, the place, the five-fold lordship of Life,
and its union with the Self, one gains immortality,—one gains immortality.’
No. 15.—JANUARY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE SYMBOLS USED. p. 6-9
THE use of symbols is to
picture the invisible by the visible. In the
Upanishads, one is struck first, perhaps, by the
quaintness and old-world flavor of the symbols; and then by their simplicity and
natural fitness.
For instance, the pupils, seeking the Eternal, approach the Master; who is here
as elsewhere the symbol of the Higher Self.
They bring fuel, or kindling-wood in their hands, as saying ‘we bring the
readiness to be illuminated: do thou give us light!’
The ripening of the mind has been compared to the burning of wood; first a
painful struggle and emission of moisture; then blackness and, at last,
readiness to burst out into a clear flame. It is this readiness and ripeness
that is typified here by the fuel in the hand.
The first answer outlines a scheme of cosmic evolution. From the unknowable
Eternal arises first the Evolver or Lord of beings; who then becomes two-fold,
or produces a “pair”—a duality. This pair is variously named in Sanskrit books .
Sometimes it is the masculine and feminine Logos, or the positive and negative
Word; here the pair is called Life and Body, or Substance. And from this duality
all other dualities proceed; as spirit and matter, the perciever and the thing
perceived, the knower and the known. More than one of these dualities are
suggested in the Upanishad; as day and night, summer and winter, sun and moon.
This brings us to another symbol, as simple and natural as the kindling-wood,
though not without the quaintness which gives such a charm to these old books.
The sun, we are told in the Vedic verse, is first the father in the
sky the outer light; and then the giver of wisdom the inner light.
This ‘inner light is seated in a chariot with seven wheels’; and this simile at
once recalls the verse spoken by Death to Nachiketas: ‘the Self is the lord of
the chariot; the body is the chariot; the soul is the charioteer, and mind the
reins.
The sun is therefore the symbol of the Spirit or Higher Self in that seven-fold,
perfect man spoken of very clearly in more than one passage of the Upanishads.
Opposite the Higher Self is the lower self, as the moon is opposite the sun.
This makes clear the symbol of the two paths, the path of the sun and the path
of the moon. The path of the sun is the religion of the Higher Self which leads
to final liberation; to perfect life in the eternal world. The path of moon is the
religion of the lower self; the religion of ritual and observance, which leads
to a temporary paradise after death, and then to rebirth in the world, and the
opposition, between these two is found again and again in the Upanishads.
The second answer leads us to a further step in the cosmic evolution. The
Evolver, becoming the masculine Life, and the feminine the three together make
up the formative trinity or Triad.
The Life of the Evolver, expanding through the Word, produces the manifested
universe. This expansion forms a series of descending planes, from the more
spiritual to the more material. It is as though a rainbow-colored curtain were
let down across the empty stage of space.
These planes are symbolized here as the planes of ether, of air, of fire, of
water, of earth. And these five, together with the dual form of the Evolver,
make up the sevenfold cosmos, corresponding to the sevenfold man; the macrocosm
corresponding to the microcosm.
Then comes the teaching that this sevenfold life is still a unity, the manifold
form of the One Life. ‘I, said Life, dividing myself fivefold, support this life
establishing it.’
Then follow the fable and the magnificent hymn to Life, which can hardly be
equalled for majesty and beauty. Its expression is so universal that it hardly
needs a commentary; but one thought may be noted. The Vedic gods, Agni, Indra,
and Vayu, or Fire, the Thunderer, and Air, are spoken of as forms or facets of
the One Life; as representatives or regents of the great cosmic planes and
fields of life. They are no personal gods, but personified aspects of the indivisible One. This suggests a clue
to much that is enigmatic in the Vedic hymns to one or other of these deities.
The whole spirit of the old Indian wisdom is summed up in the burden of this
hymn: that all is Life; that nothing is, but infinite, unbounded Life.
It is a fact which is brought home by constant study of the Upanishads, that
their teachings are in reality much clearer, more definite, and more precise
than at first sight appears. One part exactly fills up and completes the other;
and a well-defined unity of thought pervades the whole.
In the third answer in this Upanishad, the teacher turns from the macrocosm to
the microcosm ; from the universe to man.
Let us once more touch on the outline of universal evolution. From the eternal
springs the Evolver, who expanding through the Word, produces the fivefold outer
universe. Exactly in the ‘some way the microcosm, man, is formed. From the Self
(Atma) springs the Life, which expanding through the Soul (Buddhi), produces the
five inferior lives, or lower principles in man.
These three powers, the Self, the Life, and the Soul, make up the divine,
eternal nature of man, which necessarily and perpetually stands within the
threshold of the eternal world; and is by its very nature immortal.
This divinity and immortality of the Higher Self, as a fact already existing
from the beginning, is one of the most characteristic doctrines of the
Upanishads.
The whole aim of their teachings is this: to point the path by which the
personal self may win immortality and divinity, by becoming united with the
Higher Self, which always possessed immortality and divinity.
We stand in the middle, a god-above us; a beast below us. We can consciously
choose to be united and identified with either the one or the other. The steady
upward advance that leads to the god, the Higher Self, is spoken of in the
Upanishads as the upward-life (ud-ana). It is the personal self aspiring to the
Higher Self. Its duality is clearly pointed out, in the words:
by pure deeds it leads to a pure world ; by sinful deeds to a sinful
world; by both, to a human world.
We have, therefore, the Self (Atma), its Life, and the Soul (Buddhi) making the
divine nature of man ; the Higher Self. The ‘upward-life’, or advancing
personal self is the link between the higher and lower nature. And the lower
nature is then described, as
linked with the different planes or fields of the outer material world; the
lowest being the ‘downward-life’ or animal passions, which is spoken of as of
the earth earthy.
By the gradual turning of the personal life from the animal to the god, he gains
immortality,—he gains immortality. C. J.
No. 15.—JANUARY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE HERITAGE OF THE BRAHMANS.
pgs. 9-15
Page 9, line 16, “latitude” should read “longitude”.
Page 14, line 14, “ Northern” should read “Southern”,
as Shringiri Math
is in Mysore state.
—C. J.
IT is said that long ago, in the childhood of the world, the senses were so fine
that we could hear the growing of the grass, the rustling of the opening buds of
spring. By a memory of these early senses, by the faint remnant of them that the
long ages in their passage have left us, we can hear now the first stirring of
the opening buds of a new spring of intellectual life, a new period in the
spiritual thought of the world ; and the key-note of this new period is the
East, the wisdom of the East, the thought and ideals of the East.
Not merely or necessarily the East in latitude, but rather the Eastern side of
man—that East in the soul of every man where the sun rises, where the light of
intuition opens its first dawning rays, and, “rising, guides the lesser lives
among its rays “. And yet the East in latitude gives the key-note to the new
dawn of thought in a special sense too. For it was in the East, and, more than
all, in India, “mother of nations “, that the eastern part of man where the sun
rises found its best development; that the interior light of the soul found its
fullest recognition.
And it is only natural that the minds of men, feeling the first gleam of dawning
day, should turn towards the East; that they should grow enthusiastic for the
Lands of the East, and, more than all, for India: that India should occupy an
ever-widening space on the horizon of their thoughts; that their hearts should
more and more turn towards India.
This growing interest and enthusiasm for India—an enthusiasm at first almost
instinctive, but gradually quickened by advancing knowledge—is especially felt
to-day in the two most idealistic nations in the West, the Americans and the
Germans. For with all their sense of practical life and practical development, the
Americans and Germans are at heart idealists; ready to sacrifice all their
practical aims and practical accomplishment to a vision; ready, as Emerson said,
to leave Cleopatra and the army, to seek the sources of the Nile.
The deepest curiosity of the Americans and Germans, turning towards
India, unquestionably centers on the Brahmans; one hears again and again the
words—the wisdom of the Brahmans, the ideal of the Brahmans, the life of the
Brahmans; and the first question one is always asked refers to the Brahman
order. To answer this question, it would be necessary to write many volumes; to
trace the rise of the Brahman order in the dim twilight of Vedic days; to show
the growth and consolidation of their power in the days of Rama, and through the
struggles of the great war of the PANDU and KURU
princes; to point
to certain dark sides of their development that had become visible in Buddha’s
days; and at last to fill in the splendid picture of Brahmanic advance and
Brahmanic development in Shankaracharya’s days.
When the records of the monasteries of Southern India are more fully known and
understood, when the Smarta Brahmans who have preserved most clearly the
splendid tradition of Shankara relax a little their reserve, we shall—it can
hardly be doubted—have a picture of that great man and his times as perfect and
full of color as the picture we have of Plato’s times, and the thought of Plato
who, more than any other philosopher, resembles Shankara.
What we know of Shankara already, though only a tithe of what we may know when
old records are opened, is enough to give him a place amongst the choicest
spiritual aristocracy of the world, as a seer and thinker who towered above his
race as Plato towered above the Greeks; as a Great Man, an elder brother of the
race, whose thought and insight mark a high tide of human life.
There is a dim tradition, in the oldest Indian books, in the great Upanishads,
and the earlier Vedic hymns, that the Brahmans were not in the beginning the
spiritual teachers of India; that they received their earliest wisdom from the
Royal Sages of the Râjanya or Kshattriya race. But the Brahmans have so long
held these treasures of wisdom as their own—guarding them as a mother her child,
as a man his first-born—that they have come to consider them as their very own;
their heritage rather by birth than by adoption. The fact that, in spite of this
jealous love of their darling treasures, they have preserved the tradition of
their earliest Royal Teachers, points to the most valued feature in the
Brahmans’ character ; — the unflinching, unalterable fidelity with which
they have preserved, unaltered and inviolate, the spiritual treasures committed
to their care; and the safeguarding of which through the ages forms their truest
and greatest title to fame ; the best justification for that instinctive turning
towards the Brahmans as the center and representative of Indian genius, which we
have noted as so marked a feature of the Indian Renaissance to-day.
But once the Brahmans had received the wisdom-doctrines from their Royal
Teachers, their distinctive genius, their most valued quality, began to assert
itself. With their unparalleled genius for order, their instinctive feeling for
preservation, they recorded, classified and developed the intuitive wisdom of
the Royal Sages—Buddha, a Royal Sage of far later days, has put on record this
unparralleled fidelity: “those ancient Rishis of the Brahmans, versed in the
Three Wisdoms, the authors of the verses, the utterers of the verses, whose
ancient form of words so chanted, uttered, or composed, the Brahmans of to-day
chant over again and repeat; intoning or reciting, exactly as has been intoned
or recited”. — ( Tevigga Sutta).
That Krishna, the spiritual hero of the Mahabharata war, whose mission it
was to usher in the Iron Age of Kali Yuga, was no Brahman but Kshattriya,
who traced his doctrines from Manu the Kshattriya through the Royal Sages, is enough
to show that in the days of the great war, the Brahmans had not yet claimed as
quite their own the teachings of wisdom which it was their mission to hand down
through the ages. (Bhagavad-Gita, iv).
The great war, according to Indian tradition, was fought out five thousand years
ago. And, after the great war, in which so many Kshattriya princes fell, the
keeping of the Sacred records began to pass completely into the hands of the
Brahmans. The Brahmans, sensible of their great mission, prepared themselves to
carry it out by forming a high ideal of life; by strict rules of conduct and
discipline which only the highest characters could support; and the very strictness
of which seems to have produced a reaction which we see traces of in Buddhas
days.
The life of the Brahman was conceived and moulded in accordance with his high
ideal; in accordance with his high destiny as transmitter of the wisdom of the
Golden Age across the centuries to our dark iron days. Purity, unworldliness,
and discipline were the key-notes of his life; and the Brahman’s unparalleled
genius for order gradually moulded this ideal into a set of definite rules, a
series of religious ceremonies, which laid hold on his life before he saw the
light of day, and did not loose that hold when his body vanished among the red
embers of the funeral pyre—but rather kept in touch with him, through the
Shraddha offering to the shades for nine generations after his death.
This life of ceremonies and rites, the key-note of which was the acquiring and transmission of the Three Wisdoms spoken of by Buddha,
gradually made of the Brahman order a treasure-box or casket for the safer
keeping of the holy records handed down. Whether the Brahmans were originally of
the fair, almost white race which forms their nucleus to-day, and whose distinctive
physical character and color make a Brahman of pure type at once recognizable in
an assemblage of Hindus, is a question difficult to solve. We find in the oldest
Indian books that : “The color of the Brahman is white “, and this, in later
days became a sentence symbolical of their ideal of purity; but in the beginning
it may have been a description of their color, an index of their race.
It is very probable that this fair, almost white race, which now forms the
nucleus of the Brahman order,. gradually became, through selective genius,
through their unequalled instinct of order, the recognized repository and
transmitter of the sacred records of the past. But the ideal life of the Brahman
was, perhaps, too arduous for the common lot of man; at any rate we see a
gradually increasing tendency to degeneration in one side of the Brahman’s life;
for in India as in other lands, even silver clouds have their dark linings.
Their instinct for order, among the Brahmans of lesser moral structure than the
high ideal of their race, became an instinct for ceremonial; their ideal of
purity became a habit of outward purification; and they tended to harden into an
exclusive priestly caste, withdrawn from, and above the common life of man.. The
priestcraft, by a second step, began to weave ambitions, to seek a share of
political power, and, at last, a practical predominance in the state, which
threatened to become a spiritual tyranny.
But these developments, inseparable from the weakness of human life, were but
the rusting of the outer layer of the casket in which the wisdom of the Golden
Age was handed down. There were also within the Brahman order—as there are
to-day— men who held to the high ideal of their past; who were fitting
repositories of the high tradition they were destined to carry down. The casket
in which were held the records of the past had always its lining of precious
metal, though the outside might rust and tarnish with the passing ages.
The greatest of these followers of that high idea, in later days, within the
Brahman caste, was Shankaracharya, the Brahman Sage of Southern India. It is
hard to say, with certainty, when Shankara lived; but the records of Shringiri,
where his successors have held rule over the nucleus of the Brahman order, point
to a period about
two milleniums ago; a period, that is, just outside the threshold of our era.
Shankaracharaya began work of reforming the Brahman caste
from within. A few centuries before him, Buddha had scattered broadcast
through India, and Buddha’s followers had scattered broadcast through the world,
the teachings of India’s Golden Days in a form readily intelligible for all and to be assimilated by the simplest mind of man.
It remained to do for India, what, perhaps, others were doing, across the
Himalayas, for the whole world to preserve inviolate, and transmit in its purity
that other side of wisdom which the simplest heart of man can intuitively feel;
but which only, the most perfectly developed powers the most fully expanded
intellect and spiritual insight can
remained to secure the preservation of those profounder truths and that deeper
knowledge which only the finest powers of the soul can adequately comprehend.
To secure their preservation in India was the duty and mission of Shankaracharya.
Believing that this preservation should be helped and seconded by
whatever aids selective race genius and hereditary capacity could give, he
confined the transmission of this wisdom, and of the records which contained it,
within the Brahman order, as far as our knowledge goes. There is evidence that,
among the Brahmans of Southern India in early days were a certain number of
families not belonging to that white race which forms the nucleus of the
Brahman caste; but belonging to the dark, almost black Dravidian peoples of
Southern
India, who are the survivors, perhaps, of a land that once lay to the south of
India, but has now vanished beneath the waves. This dark Dravidian race has
produced many men of remarkable genius and power, whose insight and force quite
fitted them for inclusion in the Brahman order.
But as the centuries moved on, such admission became more difficult; till, in
the days of Shankara, it is probable that the door was completely closed. What
changes Shankara made in the Brahman order which followed him, in the division
of the Brahmans which recognized his transcendent force, can only be known with
surety to the Brahmans of that order themselves. But this much we know, that
Shankara did all his overpowering genius could accomplish to turn the Brahmans from too exclusive following after ceremonial; to lead them back to the
spiritual wisdom, the recognition of the inner light of the soul, which was India’s greatest heritage; and that, taking India’s most
precious records, the
Great Upanishads, he rendered them into the thought and language of his own day,
and did all that a marvelous insight and a literary style of wonderful lucidity
could do to make the spirit and the genius of the Upanishads live once more in
the hearts of the Brahmans of his time.
He set himself, above all, to cleanse the inner lining of the casket where
India’s treasures lay concealed ; to remove every speck from the precious metal
whose perfect purity alone could guarantee the costly contents against rust and
moth. The reforms inaugurated by Shankaracharya continue to bear fruit to-day;
the new light he shed on the old records, the new insight he gave to the old
symbols, are the treasured inheritance of the Smarta Brahmans, whose spiritual
heads, in unbroken succession, have
ruled at Shringiri Math, in the mountains of southern India.
Centuries passed, and the sunlit plains of India were filled with Moslem
invaders, falling like swarms of locusts on the rich gardens of that distant
wonderland; full of the fierce hostility of fanaticism against the symbols of a
religion they did not understand; and against the Brahmins, as ministers of this
religion. It would not be wonderful, it would rather be perfectly natural, if
this hostility and predominance of a foreign fanatical power had sealed the lips
of the Brahmans once for all as to the mysteries of their religion; had locked
and double-locked the casket in which the heritage of India lay concealed.
But in spite of tyranny and fanaticism that would have justified the most
perfect
reticence, the most absolute silence, the Brahmans retained an ideal of their
universal mission, above and beyond their mission to their own land and their
own religion. No sooner did brighter days dawn for them under the Emperor Akbar,
the great Indian monarch of the sixteenth century who conceived and framed a
high ideal of religious tolerance and mutual understanding which was the nearest
approach to State Theosophy; no sooner did the brighter day dawn than the
Brahmans were ready to forget old griefs and to teach their Moslem rulers the
broad principles of their religion.
Two generations after Akbar, Akbar’s noblest and most ill-fated descendant,
Prince Dara Shukoh, received from the Brahmans the permission to translate into
Persian a series of the Upanishads, including the Great Upanishads of which
something has been already said. This Persian translation, besides following the
words of the old records, put into visible form much that had been hidden
between the lines, and followed, in some degree, the new light that had been
shed on the Upanishads by the genius of Shankaracharya.
This Persian translation
of the Upanishads, which embodies a very valuable tradition of their hidden
meaning, made about the year 1640, was found by Anquetil Duperron in 1775,
and by him translated into Latin. From Anquetil Duperron this “Key to the
Indian Sanctuary” passed to Schopenhauer, and becoming “the comfort of his life,
the comfort of his death” lead him to prophesy that Indian Renaissance which is
glowing with the fair colors of dawn to-day.
But under Dara Shukoh’s brother, the fanatical Aurungzeb, darker days fell
upon the Brahmans; and they suffered much
from European nations more presumptous and not less fanatical than Aurungzeb; of
these the darkest record clings to the Portuguese, who tried to wring from the
Brahmans the heart of their mystery by Inquisition and auto-da-fe.
Yet, once more, just a hundred years ago when a group of Europeans full of
love for the East, sought from the Brahmans some knowledge of their learning,
the Brahmans, with singular generosity, made these Europeans in some degree
sharers in their heritage. From the knowledge thus freely given to these
Europeans, whose chiefs were William Jones and Thomas Colebrooke, the first
foundations of Orientalism were laid; and a field of matchless fertility was
opened to a growing band of workers who enrolled themselves under the banner of
the East.
But the last and finest insight, the master-key to the records was still
treasured in the East itself; somewhat of that insight has since been freely
offered to us; on our ability to use it most probably depends the further
insight that the future holds in promise.
No. 16.—MARCH, 1894
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
BUDDHA’S METHOD. p. 17
IF a Bhikshu should desire, brethren, by the complete destruction of
the three bonds to become purified, to be no longer liable
to be reborn in a state of suffering, and to be assured of final salvation, let
him then fulfill all righteousness, let him be devoted to that quietude of heart
which springs from within, let him not drive back the ecstacy of contemplation,
let him look through things, let him be much alone!
”
“If a Bhikshu should desire, brethren, by the destruction of the great evils, by
himself, and even in this very world, to know and realize and attain to
Arhatship, to emancipation of heart and emancipation of mind, let him then
fulfill all righteousness, let him be devoted to that quietude of heart which
springs from within, let him not drive back the ecstacy of contemplation, let
him look through things, let him be much alone!” (Akankheyya Sutta. 11—19.,)
A VEDIC MASTER. pgs. 18-20
From the ‘Upanishad of the Questions.”
PRASHNA UPANISHAD.
(Concluded from No. 15.)
So Sauryayani Gargya asked him: ‘Master, what powers sleep in a man?
What powers are awake in him? Who is the bright one who beholds dreams? Whose is
that bliss? In which are all these based?’
The Master answered him: ‘As, Gargya, the rays of the setting sun are all
gathered up in his golden orb and come forth again when he rises, so the other
powers are gathered up in the bright one, in mind; therefore the man hears not,
nor sees, nor smells, nor tastes, nor touches, nor speaks, nor takes, nor
enjoys, nor puts forth, nor moves, so they say ‘he sleeps.’
‘But the life-fires are awake within this dwelling. The downward life is as the
household fire; the distributing life is as the fire of offerings; as the
forward life is brought forward from this, it is as the sacrificial fire;
inbreathing and outbreathing are the secondary offerings, the uniting life is as
the fire which unites them.
‘Mind is as the sacrificer; and the fruit of sacrifice is as the upward life;
the upward life leads the sacrificer day by day to the eternal.
‘So this bright one (mind) enjoys greatness in dreams; what has been seen he
beholds as seen; what has been heard he hears again; and for the other powers,
he experiences again what has been experienced. Things seen and unseen, heard
and unheard, experienced and unexperienced, manifested and unmanifested, he
beholds all; being all, he beholds it.
‘And when he (mind) is wrapped round by the Shining one, then the bright one
beholds no dreams, then in the man that bliss is attained. And as, dear, the
birds come to rest in the tree, so all this comes to rest in the Higher Self.
‘Earth and things of the earth, water and things of water, fire and things of
fire, air and things of air, ether and things of ether, vision and the visible,
hearing and the audible, smell and smell-able, taste and taste-able, touch and
tangible, speech and speak-able, hands and what is handled, feet and going,
thought and thinkable, intelligence and intelligible, personality and the
personal self, consciousness and being conscious, the shining one and shining,
life and living.
‘For the Spirit (the Higher Self) is the seer, toucher, hearer,
smeller, taster, thinker, knower, doer, the discerning Self. And the Spirit
rests on the Supreme Self, the Eternal.
‘He verily reaches the Supreme Eternal, who knows that shadowless, bodiless,
colorless, shining Eternal. He verily, dear, becomes all-knowing; he becomes the
All.
‘So there is this verse:
—He who knows that Eternal wherein the discerning Self with all the bright
powers and lives and beings rest he, all-knowing, has attained the All.’
So Shaivya Satyakama asked him: ‘Master, he who amongst men thinks upon the
sacred Om his whole life long, what world does he gain by it?’
To him the Master answered: ‘Om, Satyakama, represents the supreme and
manifested Eternal. Hence the wise man by meditating on it gains one or other of
these:
‘If he meditates on it with one measure (of knowledge), enlightened by it, he is
soon reborn in the world. The Rig verses bring him to the world of men; he there
gains power through fervor, service of the Eternal, and faith.
‘So, if he meditates on it with two measures (of knowledge), he is led to the
middle world by the Yajur verses. This is the lunar world. After enjoying
brightness in the lunar world he is born again.
‘But he who meditates on Om with three measures (of knowledge) and through that
sacred Om meditates on the highest spirit, he, verily, is wrapped in the shining
one, in the sun.
‘As a snake puts off his slough, so he puts off all darkness. He is led by the
Sama verses to the world of the Eternal. He beholds that indwelling Spirit above
all the cloud of lives. So there are these two verses:
—Three measures are appointed, united together, and yet subject to death when
divided. When the three, the outer, the middle, the inner, are again united,
then the wise one is freed from fear.
—By the Rig to this world, by the Yajur to the middle world, by the Sama to the
world the Seers know. By meditating on Om, the perfect knower gains the supreme
world of peace, unfading, immortal, fearless.
So Sukesha Bharadvaja asked him: ‘Master, Hiranyanabha, prince of Kushala, came
to me and asked this question: Bharadvaja, do you know the Spirit with sixteen
parts? I answered the youth: I know
him not. If I knew him, how should I not tell you? For he is dried up root and
all who speaks untruth! Silently mounting his chariot he went away.
‘I ask thee, then: Where is this Spirit?’ To him the Master answered: ‘Here,
dear, within man is that Spirit in whom are sixteen parts. The Spirit said: In
whose manifestation shall I be manifested? In whose returning shall I return?
‘The Spirit put forth life, and from Life put forth the Pure one. Then Ether and
Air and Fire and Water and Earth; then Potency and Mind and Food, and from Food,
Vigor, Fervor, Worship, and the Worlds; then Name among the worlds.
‘And as these rolling rivers, going ocean-ward, on reaching the ocean come to
rest; their name and form are mersed in the ocean’, they say:
‘So of that All-Seer, the sixteen parts, going spirit-ward, on reaching Spirit,
come to rest; their name and form are merged in Spirit, they say.
‘So Spirit is partless and immortal.
‘And there is this verse:
—Knowing that Supreme Spirit, in whom the parts rest, like the spokes in the
nave, let not death disquiet you.
The Master said to them: ‘So far know I that Supreme Eternal. There is none
beyond it.’
Praising him, they said: ‘Thou art our father, for thou hast led us over to the
further shore of unwisdom
(So the Upanishad of the Questions is ended.)
No. 16.—MARCH, 1894
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
LIFE AND THE LIVES. pgs. 20-24
I said Life, making myself five-fold, become manifest as the five lives.” In this
sentence is summarised the whole cosmic philosophy of the Upanishads. There are
two thoughts, first unity, then diversity. The unity is the greater thought, the
profoundest discovery of the sages, whose wisdom the Upanishads record: ‘Thou
seest nothing but the eternal; nothing is but the eternal.’ Then comes the
manifestation of life, the unfolding and outward presentation of the universe,
and the steps of manifestation from the latency of the one unknowable eternal
are always represented, in these old books of wisdom, in the same orderly
sequence, though sometimes numbered differently, as the sub-divisions are
broader or more detailed.
It may be well to sketch again the great cosmic process of unfolding as
applying to the whole universe before turning to its particular application in
man, the miniature of the universe.
For the eternal, the one, there is neither manifestation nor contraction,
neither unfolding nor withdrawal, neither day nor night, for nothing can be
added to the All, nothing can be taken from the All. The subject of unfolding
and withdrawal, of manifestation and contraction, is not the eternal, but the
“Logos,” the great evolver.
The evolver, the Logos, has a double aspect. The first aspect is positive, the
forceful substance of manifestation; the second, negative, the abstract plan or
outline of the unfolding, still latent, but soon to be manifested.
These two aspects, the positive and negative, the active and passive, we may
call the first Logos and the second Logos, in harmony with the Platonic idea.
The first is the forceful evolver, the “small Brahma;” the second is the
abstract plan of manifestation, the invisible outline of universal law, the
feminine voice, or “Vach.”
It is easy to recognise these two, the Evolver and the Voice, in the two verses
of the Katha Upanishad:
“The first-born of fervor, formed before the waters” and
“The great mother, full of divinity, who became manifest through life.”
Then from the union of these two, the Evolver and the Voice, is made manifest
the five-fold outer Universe, and this five-fold outer Universe, together with
these two, the Evolver and the Voice, forms the seven-fold cosmos, which rests
in the unmanifest one, the Eternal.
The five-fold outer Universe is made up of five great potencies or elements,
each one corresponding to a great form of perception, for, for us, the outer
universe is made up of forms of perception. The five potencies or elements are
generally called ether, air, fire, water, and earth, and the five great forms of
perception corresponding to them are sound, touch, sight, taste, and smell.
These
words, however, carry far more than their terrestrial meaning and refer
rather to what we should call planes of perception or of consciousness than
modes of perception on the terrestrial plane. The teaching as to these planes or
states of consciousness is very clear in the Upanishads, and we shall have
occasion to touch on it many times. We have, therefore, these seven: the
evolver, the voice, ether, air, fire, water, earth, which we may call the seven
principles of the universe. They are the manifestation of life,
which became dual, and then making itself five-fold produced the outer universe.
These seven rest in the Eternal One.
So far the first three questions and their answer by the Master in this
Upanishad carried the teaching as to the manifestation of the macrocosm, the
“great world.” The questions and answers which conclude the Upanishad apply the
same thought to man, the “little world” or microcosm. For the unity between the
macrocosm — the outer universe — and the microcosm— man — is ever present in the
Upanishads, underlying every part of them, and often stated with perfect
explicitness and lucidity.
Corresponding to the Eternal, the one in which all others rest, in the macrocosm
is the Self, Atma, the one in whom the other principles of man “are set like the
spokes in the nave”. Then this Self, as active and positive, is called Life, the
Higher Self, “who, though one, disposes the desires of many”; the Higher Self,
which, resting outside the cycle of lives, puts forth as its representatives
innumerable personal selves, who reap for it the harvests of experience through
the whole series of rebirths.
This positive aspect of the Self as the disposing life has a negative or passive
aspect, corresponding to the feminine universal voice, and to this feminine or
passive aspect of the Self several names are given in the Upanishads. This
passive aspect is called “Wisdom” (Buddhi), or “Shining” (Tejas); but the
thought underlying it is almost the same as that underlying Vach, who is also
called the “Shining” (Viraj). The “Wisdom”, or the “Shining” (Buddhi) is for man
what Vach is for the universe, the abstract plan of manifestation through the
cycle of lives; the invisible outline of the universal law applied to man. We
might run the risk of materialising a spiritual concept by saying that it is a
crystal model of the whole life of man from the beginningless beginning to the
endless end; that all the laws of man’s life in all the spheres are outlined in
this model, to be gradually illuminated as these laws are realised in the
gradual unfoldment of the Higher Self through the experience of the whole series
of personal selves, in the cycle of birth and death. Thus as the potential life
of the Higher Self is gradually realized, the passive “Wisdom” (Buddhi), becomes
the active “Shining” (Tejas).
Then this dual life of man “becomes five-fold and manifests as the five lives”,
The five manifested lives or principles of man are variously named. One series
is the “upward-life” (Udana). the ‘‘uniting-life” (Samana), the ‘‘forward-life”
(Prana), the ‘‘distributing-life” (Vyana), and the “downward-life” (Apana), and they are
further correlated with the five great elements or outer modes of the macrocosm,
the manifested universe.
From another point of view, the five manifested lives or principles, of man are
called “mind” (Manas), ‘‘desire”, “vigor”, “form”, and “senses”. But by far the
most important for us in either category is the first, the “upward-life”, or
‘‘mind”, which stands next to the dual life and wisdom of the Higher Self. For
this “mind” or “upward-life” is the conscious centre of the personal self, which
is the minister and representative of the Higher Self throughout the whole
series of rebirths.
Whether spoken of as “mind” or as the “upward-life”, this centre of the personal
self is invariably represented as dual. “Mind” (Manas), is either restrained by
the Higher Self, “like the well-ruled horses of the charioteer”; or
unrestrained, “like the unruly horses of the charioteer”. The “upward-life” is
either “wrapt by the shining” or “not wrapt by the shining”, and on this dual
tendency, this double potency of “mind” and the “upward-life” (for they are
identical), depend the most momentous issues for the personal life. And this
double potency of the personal life is no mere subtlety of metaphysics. It is a
fact of daily and hourly experience, the great fact of life, the perpetually
verifiable truth on which the whole mystery of life depends. We stand, as it was
said, between the wild beast and the god, between the angel and the demon. We
can consciously at every moment throw in our lot with one or the other; can
consciously at every moment incline to one or the other, and it is the sum of
these decisions which make up the fate and destiny of the personal self, whether
in one life or in a long series of lives.
When the upward tendency, the aspiration or “upward breath” toward the angel and
the god—the Higher Self—perfectly prevails, then “mind” (Manas) and “wisdom”
(Buddhi) become one with the “self” (Atma), and the perfected triad enters into
the “World of Eternal,” the “supreme world of peace, unfading, fearless,
immortal.”
When the downward tendency finally prevails, when the wild beast and the demon
are consciously and deliberately preferred, then the personal self falls to a
“demoniac world, wrapped in blind darkness.”
When the two, the upward and downward, are fairly balanced, when aspiration
upward and desire downward alternate without any clear or conscious
deliberation—the condition of the unthinking mass of men—then the two “lead to a
human world”; or, in other words, to a new rebirth in this terrestrial life of
ours. And so long as
these two tendencies are fairly balanced, so long as men go on sinning and
repenting, half-conscious, half-responsible, so long will this series of
rebirths continue.
When the time of full consciousness and full responsibility comes, if the
upward tendency prevails, “mind,” the “shining,” and the “self” become reunited
and the mortal puts on immortality.
As in the whole series of lives, so in a less degree for each personal life. And
as for each personal life, each terrestrial span, so for the measures of that
span, the single days. For each day is a little model of eternity, as each man
is a little model of the universe. But the more detailed teaching as to the days
and the lives—as to night, the death of the day, and death, the night of
life—will be more fully treated when we come to the Upanishads, which treat
especially, of the states of consciousness, which are quaintly called “the
measures of the sacred Om”.
So the “Upanishad of the Questions” is ended; the most dramatic and concise of
the Upanishads, perhaps, as the Katha, the “Teaching of Death to Nachiketas” is
in some respects the most profound and beautiful. In the six questions and their
six answers are summed up the teaching of all the Upanishads, all that Narada
and the seven Sages knew.
To retain a clear and lucid memory of this Upanishad of the Questions it will be
well to note and remember each question and each answer in their order, and
further to tabulate in some degree the scheme of the universe put forward. But
it must be clearly remembered that tables of words are not groups of ideas, and
that the full meaning of the. teaching is only grasped when the ideas rather
than the words are realised. The Upanishad of the Questions contains in brief
the whole philosophy of the old sages and their solution of the problems of life.
It is, in truth, a manual of the mysteries.
No. 16.—MARCH, 1894
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
SHANKARA THE TEACHER. pgs. 24-27
THE Upanishads, Buddha, and Shankara: these are the three great lights of
Indian wisdom. The Upanishads far away in the golden age; in the bright dawn
that has faded so many ages ago. Buddha, the Awakened One, who, catching in his
clear spirit the glow of that early dawn, sought to reflect it in the hearts of
all men, of whatever race, of whatever nation; sought to break down the barriers
of caste and priestly privilege
; to leave each man alone with the Universe, with no mediator between. But
scattering abroad the rays of wisdom, Buddha found that the genius of each man,
of each race, could only reflect one little beam; and that in thus making the
light the property of all men, the purity and completeness of the light might be
impaired.
Then followed Shankaracharya—Shankara the Teacher—who set himself to the
preservation of the light; to burnishing the casket that held the lamp of
wisdom. Busying himself chiefly with India, he saw that the light must he
preserved, as far as its completeness and perfection were concerned, within the
Brahman order, where the advantages of heredity, of ages of high ideals and
rigid discipline could best secure the purity of the light could best supply a
body of men, fitted by character and training to master the high knowledge, to
sustain the moral effort that made the glory of India’s Golden Age.
This task of fitting the Brahman order to carry the torch of wisdom was
undertaken by Shankara the Teacher in three ways.
First, by commenting on the Great Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gitâ, he
rendered the knowledge of the Golden Age into the
thought and language of the Brahmans of his day. Second, by writing a series
of preparatory works, of catechisms and manuals, he made smooth the path of
those who would take the first steps on the path of wisdom. Thirdly, by a system
of reform and discipline within the Brahman order, he did all that sound
practice could do to second clear precept.
The system formed by Shankara within the Brahman order largely continues at the
present day. The radiant points of this system are the monasteries founded by
the Teacher, where a succession of teachers, each initiated by his predecessor,
carry on the spiritual tradition of the great Shankara unbroken.
Of commentaries on the Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gitâ, many, perhaps, were
written in a gradual series leading up from the simple truths to the more
profound mysteries ; so that, with one after another of these treatises in hand,
the learner was gradually led to the heart of the mystery which lies “like a
germ of generation” well concealed in these matchless theosophic documents.
These commentaries were followed by others, the work of Shankara’s pupils; and
though these works of explanation are very numerous, all those that are
published seem to belong to the earlier stages of learning, and leave the
deeper passages and problems of the Upanishads still unsolved.
But the other part of Shankara’s work, the manuals and catechisms for
learners, are complete and perfect. They really teach quite plainly and lucidly,
the first steps on the path of wisdom they point out, with clear insistance, the
qualities that are necessary to make these first steps fruitful ; qualities
without which the learner may remain, hesitating and halting, on the threshold,
through lack of the force and sterling moral worth which alone make any further
progress possible.
Nor are these necessary qualities difficult to understand. They are not queer
psychic powers that only flatter vanity; they
are not mere intellectual tricks that leave the heart cold; they are rather the
simple qualities of sterling honesty, of freedom
from selfishness and sensuality, which have formed the basis of every moral
code; the virtues so common and commonplace on the lips, but not quite so common
in the life and character.
These treatises of Shankara speak to the common understanding and moral sense in
an unparalleled degree. They are an appeal to the reason that has hardly ever
been equalled for clearness and simplicity by the sages of the earth. Their aim
is Freedom [Moksha], “Freedom the bondage of the world”. This aim speaks to
every one, awakens an echo in every heart, appeals to the universal hope of
common humanity.
But it is not enough for the mind to follow the lucid sentences of Shankara.
“Freedom from the bondage of the world” demands something more. “Sickness is not
cured by saying ‘Medicine,’ but by drinking it; so a man is not set free by the
name of the Eternal, but by discerning the Eternal”. The teaching must be woven
into life and character it it is to bear fruit; it is not enough to contemplate
the virtue of freedom from selfishness and sensuality in the abstract.
One of these treatises, “The Crest-Jewel of Wisdom”, will be translated here. It
will be divided according to the natural sections of the text, beginning with
the first steps on the path and ending with the complete teaching of Shankara’s
philosophy so far as that teaching can be put into words. Hardly any notes will
be necessary, as the language of the teacher is lucidity itself. Every word is
defined and every definition enlarged and repeated.
It is not, however, the object of these papers to put forward a presentation of
eastern thought merely to be read and forgotten. We shall spare no pains of
repetition and amplification to make the thoughts of the East quite clear. But
much remains to be done by readers themselves. They must make the thoughts of
Shankara and the sages their own spiritual property if they are to benefit by
them, and as a preliminary for this first chapter of Shankara’s teaching, the
“four Perfections” should be learned by heart and taken to heart.
No. 16.—MARCH, 1894
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
FIRST STEPS ON THE PATH.
pgs. 27-31
From Shankaracharya’s “Crest-Jewel of Wisdom” (‘Vivekachudamani, 1-70.)
PROLOGUE.
I bow before Govinda, the objectless
object: of final success in the highest
wisdom, who is supreme bliss and the true teacher.
For beings a human birth is hard to win, then manhood and holiness, then
excellence in the path of wise law; hardest of all to win is wisdom.
Discernment between Self and not-Self, true judgment, nearness to the Self of
the Eternal and Freedom are not gained without a myriad of right acts in a
hundred births. This triad that is won by the bright one’s favor is hard to
gain:
humanity, aspiration, and rest in the great spirit. After gaining at last a
human birth, hard to win, then manhood and knowledge of the teaching, if one
strives not after Freedom he is a fool. He, suicidal, destroys himself by
grasping after the unreal. Who is more self-deluded than he who is careless of
his own welfare after gaining a hard-won human birth and manhood, too? Let them
declare the laws, let them offer to the gods, let them perform all rites, let
them love the gods; without knowing the oneness with the Self, Freedom is not
won even in a hundred years of the Evolver. “There is no hope of immortality
through riches”, says the scripture. It is clear from this that rites cannot
lead to Freedom.
Therefore let the wise one strive after Freedom, giving up all longing for
sensual self-indulgence; approaching the good, great Teacher (the Higher Self),
with soul intent on the object of the teaching. Let him by the Self raise the
Self, sunk in the ocean of the world, following the path of union through
complete recognition of oneness. Setting all rites aside, let the wise, learned
ones who approach the study of the Self strive for Freedom from the bondage of
the world. Rites are to purify the thoughts, but not to gain the reality. The
real is gained by Wisdom, not by a myriad of rites. When one steadily examines
and clearly sees a rope, the fear that it is a serpent is destroyed. Knowledge
is gained by discernment, by examining, by instruction, but not by bathing, nor
gifts, nor a hundred holdings of the breath. Success demands first ripeness;
questions of time and place are subsidiary. Let the seeker after self-knowledge
find the Teacher
(the Higher Self), full of kindness and knowledge of the Eternal.
THE FOUR PERFECTIONS.
He is ripe to seek the Self who is full of knowledge and wisdom, reason and
discernment, and who bears the well-known marks.
He is ready to seek the Eternal who has Discernment and Dispassion; who has
Restfulness and the other graces.
Four perfections are numbered by the wise. When they are present there is
success, but in their absence is failure.
First is counted the Discernment between things lasting and unlasting. Next
Dispassion, the indifference to self-indulgence here and in paradise. Then the
Six Graces, beginning with Restfulness. Then the longing for Freedom.
A certainty like this— the Eternal is real, the fleeting world is unreal ;—this
is that Discernment between things lasting and unlasting.
And this is Dispassion—a perpetual willingness to give up all sensual
self-indulgence —everything lower than the Eternal, through a constant sense of
their insufficiency.
Then the Six Graces, a steady intentness of the mind on its goal ;—this is
Restfulness.
And the steadying of the powers that act and perceive, each in its own sphere,
turning them back from sensuality ;—this is Self- control.
Then the raising of the mind above external things ;—this is the true
Withdrawal.
The enduring of all ills without petulance and without self-pity ;—this is the
right Endurance.
An honest confidence in the teaching and the Teacher ;—this is that Faith by
which the treasure is gained.
The intentness of the soul on the pure Eternal ;—this is right Meditation, but
not the indulgence of fancy.
The wish to untie, by discernment of their true nature, all the bonds woven by
unwisdom, the bonds of selfishness and sensuality;
—this is the longing for Freedom.
Though at first imperfect, these qualities gradually growing through Dispassion,
Restfulness, and the other graces and the Teacher’s help will gain their due.
When Dispassion and longing for Freedom are strong, then Restfulness and the
other graces will bear fruit.
But when these two— Dispassion and longing for Freedom—are lacking,
then Restfulness and the other graces are a mere appearance, like water in the
desert.
Chief among the causes of Freedom is devotion, the intentness of the soul on its
own nature. Or devotion may be called intentness on the reality of the Self.
Let him who possesses these Perfections and who would learn the reality of the
Self, approach the wise Teacher (the Higher Self), from whom comes the loosing
of bonds; who is full of knowledge and perfect; who is not beaten by desire, who
really knows the Eternal; who has found rest in the Eternal, at peace like a
fuel-less fire; who is full of selfless kindness, the friend of all that lives.
Serving the Teacher with devotion and aspiration for the Eternal, and finding
harmony with him, seek the needed knowledge of the Self.
THE APPEAL TO THE HIGHER SELF.
“I submit myself to thee, Master, friend of the bowed-down world and river
of selfless kindness.
‘Raise me by thy guiding light that pours forth the nectar of truth and mercy,
for I am sunk in the ocean of the world.
“I am burned by the hot flame of relentless life and torn by the winds of
misery: save me from death, for I take refuge in thee, finding no other rest.”
The great good ones dwell in peace, bringing joy to the world ‘- like the return
of spring. Having crossed the ocean of the world,
they ever help others to cross over.
For this is the very nature of the great-souled ones [Mahatmas] —their swiftness
to take away the weariness of others. So the soft-rayed moon of itself soothes
the earth, burned by the fierce sun’s heat.
“Sprinkle me with thy nectar voice that brings the joy of eternal bliss, pure
and cooling, falling on me as from a cup, like the joy of inspiration; for I am
burnt by the hot, scorching flames of the world’s fire.
“Happy are they on whom thy light rests, even for a moment, and who reach
harmony with thee.
“How shall I cross the ocean of the world? Where is the path? What way must I
follow? I know not, Master. Save me from the wound of the world’s pain.”
THE BEGINNING OF THE TEACHING.
To him, making this appeal and seeking help, scorched by the flame of the
world’s fire, the Great Soul beholding him with eyes most pitiful brings speedy
comfort.
The Wise One
instils the truth in him who has approached him longing for Freedom, who is
following the true path, calming the tumult of his mind and bringing
Restfulness.
“Fear not, wise one, there is no danger for thee. There is a way to cross over
the ocean of the world, and by this path the sages have reached the shore.
“This same path I point out to thee, for it is the way to destroy the world’s
fear. Crossing the ocean of the world by this path, thou shalt win the perfect:
joy.’
By discerning the aim of the wisdom-teaching [Vedanta] is born that most
excellent knowledge. Then comes the final ending of the world’s pain. The voice
of the teaching plainly declares that faith, devotion, meditation, and the
search for union are the means of Freedom for him who would be free. He who is
perfect in these wins Freedom from the bodily bondage woven by unwisdom.
When the Self is veiled by unwisdom there arises a binding to the not-self, and
from this comes the pain of world-life. The fire of wisdom lit by discernment
between these two—Self and not-Self—will wither up the source of unwisdom, root
and all.
THE PUPIL ASKS.
“Hear with selfless kindness, Master. I ask this question:
receiving the answer from thy lips I shall gain my end.
“What is, then, a bond? And how has this bond come? What cause has it? And how
can one be free?
“What is not-Self and what the Higher Self? And how can one discern between
them?”
THE MASTER ANSWERS.
“Happy art thou. Thou shalt attain thy end. Thy kin is blest in thee. For
thou seekest to become the Eternal by freeing thyself from the bond of unwisdom.
“Sons and kin can pay a father’s debts, but none but a man’s self can set him
free.
“If a heavy burden presses on the head others can remove it, but none but a
man’s self can quench his hunger and thirst.
“Health is gained by the sick who follow the path of healing:
health does not come through the acts of others.
“The knowledge, of the real by the eye of clear insight is to be gained by one’s
own sight and not by the teacher’s.
“The moon’s form must be seen by ones own eyes; it can never be known through
the eyes of another.
“None but a
man’s self is able to untie the knots of unwisdom, desire, and former acts, even
in a myriad of ages.
“Freedom is won by a perception of the Self’s oneness with the Eternal, and not
by the doctrines of Union or of Numbers, nor by rites and sciences.
“The form and beauty of the lyre and excellent skill upon its strings they give
delight to the people, but will never found an empire.
“An eloquent voice, a stream of words, skill in explaining the teaching, and the
learning of the learned; these bring enjoyment but not freedom.
“When the Great Reality is not known the study of the scriptures is fruitless;
when the Great Reality is known the study of the scriptures is also fruitless.
“A net of words is a great forest where the fancy wanders; therefore the reality
of the Self is to be strenuously learned from the knower of that reality.
“How can the hymns [Vedas] and the scriptures profit him who is bitten by the
serpent of unwisdom? How can charms or medicine help him without the medicine of
the knowledge of ,the Eternal?
“Sickness is not cured by saying ‘Medicine’, but by drinking
it. So a man is not set free by the name of the Eternal without discerning the
Eternal.
“Without piercing through the visible, without knowing the reality of the Self,
how can men gain Freedom by mere outward words that end with utterances?
“Can a man be king by saying. ‘I am king’, without destroying his enemies,
without gaining power over the whole land?
“Through information, digging, and casting aside the stones, a treasure may be
found, but not by calling it to come forth.
“So by steady effort is gained the knowledge of those who know the Eternal, the
lonely, stainless reality above all illusion; but not by desultory study.
“Hence with all earnest effort to be free from the bondage of the world, the
wise must strive themselves, as they would to be free from sickness.
“And this question put by thee to-day must be solved by those who seek Freedom;
this question that breathes the spirit of the teaching, that is like a clue with
hidden meaning.
“Hear, then, earnestly, thou wise one, the answer given by me; for understanding
it thou shalt be free from the bondage of the world.”
No. 17.—MAY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
ESOTERIC TEACHING. p.33
Rig ‘Veda, 1. 164, 45
THE most ancient declaration of Esoteric Teaching in the Sacred Books of
India is probably this verse from the earliest and oldest of the ten collections
of Rig Vedic hymns:
Chatvâri Vâk parimitâ padâni
Tâni vidur Brâhmanâh ye manîshinah
Guhâ trîni nihitâ na ingayanti
Turîyam vâcho manushyâh vadanti.
Dr. John Muir, most careful and exadI of Orientalists, translates this verse:
Speech consists of four defined grades.
These are known by those Brâhmans who are wise.
They do not reveal the
three which are esoteric.
Men speak the fourth grade of speech.
In this ancient hymn, the word Brahman means a Knower of Brahma, a Knower of the
Eternal. It was only in far later times that Brahman came to mean a member of a
hereditary caste.
No. 17.—MAY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE MEANING OF OM.
pgs. 34-40
MANDUKYA UPANISHAD.
THE unchanging Om is the All. Its expansion is, what has been, what is, what shall be. And what is beyond the three times, is also Om. For all this is the Eternal; and this Self is the Eternal and this Self has four steps.
Standing in Waking Life; perceiving outwardly; sevenfold; with nineteen mouths
enjoying gross things; manifested as Earthly
Fire ;—this is the first step:
Standing in Dream Life; perceiving inwardly; sevenfold; with
nineteen mouths enjoying subtle things; manifested as the Luminous;—this is the
second step.
When, finding rest, he desires no desires and dreams no
dreams, this is Dreamless Life; finding union; knowing uniformly; blissful; an
enjoyer of bliss; whose mouth is knowledge; who is manifested as Intuition
;—this is the third step. This is the All-ruler: this is the All-knower; this is
the Inner Guide; the womb of all; the manifester and withdrawer of lives.
Nor perceiving inwardly nor perceiving outwardly, nor
perceiving in both ways; nor uniformly perceiving; nor perceiving nor not
perceiving. Unseen, intangible, unseizable, unmarked, unimaginable, unindicable;
whose Self is its own proof; in whom the fivefold world has ceased; restful,
blessed, secondless; this they count the fourth step; this is to be known as the
Self.
This Self is as the unchanging Om, and as its measures; the
steps of the Self are as the measures; the measures are as the steps. These
measures are: A—U—M.
The Earthly Fire, that stands in Waking Life, is as ‘A’, the
first measure from its arising first, and attaining. He attains all desires, and
arises first, who knows it thus.
The Luminous, that stands in Dream Life, is as ‘U’, the
second measure, from being upward, and from uniting both. He raises upward the
continuation of knowledge, nor has he a son ignorant of the Eternal, who knows
it thus.
The Intuitive, that stands in Dreamless Life, is ‘M’, the
third measure; from being the measurer, and of the same nature. He measures all,
and becomes of the same nature, who knows it thus.
Unmeasured is the fourth, the intangible, where the fivefold
world has come to rest; the bright, the secondless. Thus Om is as the Self. By
the Self he wins the Self, who knows it thus.
CHHANDOGYA UPANISHAD.
III, 18.
Let Mind be regarded as the,
Eternal; this for the microcosm. Then, in the
macrocosm, Shining Ether is the Eternal. Thus both are taught, the microcosmic and
the macrocosmic.
This Eternal has four steps. Productive Voice is a step; Vitality is a step;
Seeing is a step; Hearing is a step. Thus in the microcosm.
Then in the macrocosm. Earthly Fire is a step; Air is a step; Sun is a step;
eternal Space is a step. Thus both are taught, the microcosmic and the
macrocosmic..
Productive Voice is one of the Eternal’s four steps. It gleams and glows through
Earthly Fire as its light. He gleams and glows in fame, glory, and eternal
light, who knows thus.
Vitality is one of the Eternal’s four steps. It gleams and glows through Air as
its light. He gleams and glows in fame, glory, and eternal light, who knows
thus.
Seeing is one of the Eternal’s four steps. It gleams and glows through Sun as
its light. He gleams and glows in fame, glory, and eternal light, who knows
thus.
Hearing is one of the Eternal’s four steps. It gleams and glows through eternal
Space as its light. He gleams and glows in fame, glory, and eternal light, who
knows thus.
WAKING, DREAM, DREAMLESS LIFE.
The work of translating, always difficult, is doubly difficult in the case
of the Upanishads. For every word, first thrown out as the glowing symbol of
some great reality felt by the heart, has there a flavor and color of its own; a
halo of thought, making it
- ‘ luminous in the minds of those who first conceived or heard the symbol.
But when translated,—unless by the happiest choice,—the whole flavor and aroma
of the word, and all the depth of reality that lies behind it, may be lost. We
can only restore the real meaning to the translated word by weaving round it the
same vesture of thought, and endowing it with the same color and life; till our
translation gradually comes to represent the original truly.
This is particularly true of the Mandukya, briefest and most concise of all the
Upanishads. Every word is brimful of history, brimful of
thought; so that no translation can give more than a pale and imperfect outline
of the original.
It falls naturally into two sections: the fourfold—seeming Eternal, and its
fourfold symbol, Om. The first section begins with the unity of the Eternal, the
Self of all beings. Through that power that Shankara the Teacher calls
Beginningless, Ineffable Illusion, this Eternal appears in four modes or forms
of consciousness: Waking, Dream, Dreamless Life; and, lastly, pure Divinity.
Waking is the life of this world. Dream is the life of the world between earth
and heaven. Dreamless life is the life of heaven. And pure Divinity is the life
of the Eternal itself, free from the last shadow of illusion.
The lowest and outermost of the four modes or states of consciousness is Waking
Life; where the Eternal, mirrored in the Self, gleams and glows as Earthly Fire,
in the quaint words of another Upanishad. In this outward physical life, the
vehicle and vesture of the Self is the physical body; and the endless variety of
animal, physical life is here summed up in half a dozen words. It perceives
outwardly, ‘eating outward things with nineteen mouths’; meeting the outward
world through nineteen powers: the five perceptive powers that ‘hear, see,
smell, touch, and taste’; the five active powers that ‘speak, take, enjoy, put
forth, and move’; the five vital powers; and the four inward powers, the
wandering soul, the doubting soul, the affirming soul, and the physical
self-consciousness; that is, five perceptions, five active, five vital, and four
inward powers; ‘nineteen mouths’ in all.
In the mystical symbol Om, this outward life of the senses is represented by the
first letter or measure. And this at once gives us a clue to the fifth answer of
the Vedic Master, in the Upanishad of the Questions:
If he meditate on Om with one measure, he is quickly reborn in the world. He
comes to the human world and enjoys greatness.
To meditate on one measure of the symbol Om thus means to live completely in the
outward life of the senses, the life of the natural physical world. And the
Vedic Master tells us that those who live thus are quickly reborn in the human
world. This Waking Life, represented by the first measure of Om, is the first
mode or state of consciousness, the first step of the Self which is the Eternal.
It is the life of outward day; it is also the whole outward life of a single
birth, a day in the life of the Eternal.
Then the passage to Dream Life, the second step, again in the words of the Vedic
Master:
As the rays of the setting sun are all gathered up in his luminous circle, and
come forth again when he rises, so all this is gathered up in the higher bright
one, Mind. So that the man neither hears nor sees nor smells nor tastes, nor
speaks nor takes nor enjoys, nor puts forth, nor moves. He sleeps, they say.
So this bright one, Mind, enjoys greatness in Dream. Things seen he sees again.
Things heard he hears again. Things perceived he perceives again. Things seen
and unseen. Things heard and unheard. Things real and unreal. He sees it all; as
All he sees it.
In Dream Life, the Self meets the world of dream in a vesture fashioned by the
mind after the model of the body. A body of dream, with active, perceptive,
vital, and inner powers, made by the imagination after the outward model. He
sleeps, they say; and this is not only the sleep of a single night but the long
sleep of death that separates birth from birth. In the mystical syllable Om,
this sleep is the second letter, the second measure.
And he who meditates on two measures of Om gains Paradise,
the world between earth and heaven. This is the lunar world, and after enjoying
brightness in the lunar world he is born again.
Need we say here that the lunar world is used as a symbol; that it is really
that world of changing dreams, of reflected light, that the soul enjoys in
Paradise, where it is still one step from the true light, the spiritual sun?
After enjoying greatness there, it is born again The Self, in its vestures of
dream and sense wakes again to the morning of another day. So far the Paradise
of dream; the second vesture of the Self; the second step of the Eternal. Again
the Vedic Master teaches:
But when Mind is wrapped by the Shining One, then he dreams no dream ; then
within him that Bliss arises. And as the birds come to rest in the tree, so all
this comes to rest in the Higher Self. For this Self is at once seer, toucher,
hearer, smeller, taster, knower, doer.
This is Dreamless Life, the third step of the Self. In the life that is beyond
dream, the Self no longer meets the outer world in a vesture modelled like the
body; no longer perceives through a fivefold avenue of senses; no longer acts
through a fivefold avenue of powers. The perceptive powers are united into one,
the pure power of knowing, ‘at once the seer and hearer, toucher and taster’.
The active powers are united into one, the pure power of will. Thus in Dreamless Life, the Self
‘finds union and knows uniformly’. It is also an ‘enjoyer of bliss’.
For if one were to choose a night in which he dreamed no dream at all, and to
compare it with all other nights and days of his life, and then had to say how
many days and nights of his life were better and happier than that night, I
think that he would not find them hard to count. And this not only for a simple
man, but even the great King himself. And if death be like this, I say it is a
wonderful gain.
Thus in Dreamless Life, the Self is ‘blissful, an enjoyer of bliss’. It is pure
will and knows purely as Intuition. In this Dreamless Life, says Shankara the
Teacher, its vesture is woven only of the ineffable illusion, which hides from
the Self its absolute Oneness with the Eternal. And this thin web of illusion,
the Causal Vesture, as he calls it, stands throughout the whole circle of births
and rebirths ; putting forth again and again the lower bodies in which the same
Self learns its lessons in dreaming and outward life. Therefore it is, in the
words of the Upanishad, ‘the womb of all; the manifester and withdrawer of
lives’. This third mode of consciousness is symbolized by the third measure of
Om.
And if one meditates on the three measures, and through this unchanging Om
meditates on the highest Spirit; he, endowed with the Shining, with the Sun,
puts off all sin as a snake puts off its slough.
And as the lunar world is the changing paradise of the emotions, shining with
reflected light, so the Sun is the steady self-shining of the perceiving Self.
And this perceiving Self rests in the higher unchanging Self, which is the
fourth step of the Eternal. Here, above the waves of the ocean of birth and
rebirth, beyond the three times—what was, what is, what shall be—the divine life
of the Self is perfected in quiet eternity. Here will and wisdom are one. There
is no division between knower and what is known. Therefore there is no
knowledge, but yet there is the divine and perfect essence of all knowledge.
There is no division between will and what is willed; between doer and the thing
done. Therefore there is no will and no doing, and yet there is the divine and
perfect essence of all will and all doing; for the Self has become one with the
Eternal; has renewed its immemorial oneness with the
Eternal; and there is no room for limit or division or anything less than the
Eternal.
Thus the fourfold-seeming Eternal, and the fourfold-seeming Self, which is the
Eternal.
The Eternal appears in four modes; first the outer world; second, the inner
world between earth and heaven; third, the divine world, heaven; fourth, its own
ineffable, divine Self.
And the Self appears in four modes; first waking, outwards life, of a single day
or a single birth; second, dream-life, of a single night, or a single period of
paradise between two births; third, the dreamless life, the life beyond the
dreams of night and the dreams of paradise ; and, fourth, the divine life as the
Eternal.
And these four modes of the Eternal, and the four modes of the Self that is the
Eternal ; their fourfold seeming, and their real unity, are symbolized by
the mystic Om and its measures. This is part of the meaning of the mystic symbol
Om, the theme of the Mandukya Upanishad.
But we shall only give the true and final meaning of this teaching, of the four
modes of consciousness, and the four steps of the Self, when we recognize that
they are really four great stages of culture; four great spaces on the path of
life, that the soul must pass on its homeward journey to the Eternal. The first,
outward or waking life, is the life of the innocent animal man; where the divine
Self, hidden under the thickest and heaviest vesture, learns the eternal
lessons, gains the eternal powers, through outward nature; and comes in contact
with the lasting realities hidden under sky and mountain, rock and river,
sunshine and storm. This innocent animal man lives without reflection, dies
without fear, and is reborn without dreams of paradise, to take up his work
again. His animal, physical life is entirely innocent and admirable, so long as
it does not bar the way to any higher and more divine mode of the Self.
Then the second step, the great dream, begins when the dawning mind learns to
wring their meaning from the stars and seas, the rivers and rocks; the life of
thought and emotion, of imagination and fear, religion and poetry, is gradually
built up with symbols gathered from the flowers, the thunder-storms, the sunlit
waves of the sea, the quiet laughter of the stars.
Then human life begins; the life of hope and fear, of love and hate, of desire
and disappointment, of this outward world and paradise; a shining dream, a dream
that lasts for ages.
After dream comes the awakening; the awakening from hope and fear;
from love and hate ; from desire and disappointment; from the feasts of
this world and paradise.
What then of the awakening, after the fair dream of life? Instead of hope and
fear—the hope to win, and the fear to lose
—there is perfect possession; instead of love and hate—love with its terrible
shadow, separation ; hate with its terrible shadow, fear—there is perfect unity
that knows no separation; that laughs at the transparent shadows of space and
time. Instead of the feasts of this world and paradise, there is the perpetual
presence of the divine essence of both ; a perpetual dwelling in the world the
seers tell of, above the ocean of birth and rebirth. This is the true
dreamlessness; and if a man were to compare that dreamlessness with all the days
and nights of his life, he would be constrained, I think, to say how much better
and happier that dreamlessness is. And this not only for a simple man, but even
for the great king himself.
The secret of the Eternal is, that there is an awakening from dream; but not
a rude awakening to hard realities. For fair as the dream may be, the
reality is fairer; only the seers can tell of it, and even they, with broken
words. In the hall of our dream, the lamps will burn themselves out; the poor
flowers, cut from their roots, will fade and wither; but we shall have instead
the eternal sunlight, the fresh air of the mountain-tops, the silent joy of the
everlasting hills. Yet the dream is still with us; and in the early dawn, before
the sunlight comes, there is a brief moment of longing for the shadows, that
vanish into the full light of day.
These are the three measures. Measureless is the fourth, the unseizable, into
which the fivefold world has ceased, the benign and second-less. By the Self he
reaches the Self, who knows it thus.
No. 17.—MAY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE FOUR DUTIES OF A DERVISH. pgs.40-47
THE faith of Islam, the latest of the world-wide religions, is also, in many
things, the most materialistic and dogmatic. The Semite peoples, Hebrew or Arab,
Jew or Mahommedan, had always far less genius for the divine and mystical side
of religion than for the human and formal. Their race character found its most
congenial work in purification and ritual; in sincere, though almost always
bigoted zeal.
But the mystical and spiritual side of religion belongs to a real and
imperative demand of the soul. Even in the midst of dominant, dogmatic
formalism, the soul will have its own; will express its own life in mystical and
spiritual faith.
This unconquerable impulse of the soul to put forth its own life in the divine
and mystical side of religion, is one of the most persistent facts in history.
Even at the most adverse epochs, in the midst of materialist and formalist
Islam, among the Semite Arabs, the original virtue of the soul bore its perfect
flower of spiritual and mystic faith; and as the source of this divine side of
religion is universal, so the teaching of the real mystic schools is universally
the same, among all men, in all times.
The first school of divine religion among the Mahommedans, was the Arabian
Brotherhood of Purity, that worked a golden lining into the religion of the
Prophet eight or nine centuries ago ; when the faith of Islam was three
or four centuries old. One passage from the books of the Brotherhood of Purity
will show the quality of their whole teaching; the unity of their teaching with
the divine side of religion, all the world over. There is, they say, a grade of
man which is near unto the angels:
The grade of men which is near unto the angels, is the grade of those whose
souls have awakened from the sleep of folly to the life of reality; they possess
a clear eye, and perceive by the light of their hearts the spiritual things that
are hidden to the senses. By the purity of their essence, they have conscious
knowledge of the world of spirits and lofty intelligences; they grasp the nature
of those beings free from matter, the angels, the spiritual messengers, and all
the bearers of the throne. Their beatitude becomes manifest to them; they strive
to attain to it, and therefore avoid the lusts of this evolving and decaying
world. Though by their bodies they are related to mankind, in their essence they
belong to the angels.
This Arabian school declared the inner light of the soul, the divinity of man;
the never-changing key-note of all who put forward the divine and spiritual side
of religion. They taught the reality of the One Eternal, above all the gods; and
the gradual putting forth of the worlds from the One, whither they are to return
when their day of outward life is past.
Thus the golden lining shines through the dark cloud of Mahommedan bigotry,
that spread over the whole’medival world, from Spain to the Malay Peninsula. In
its zealous, fanatical progress, the faith of Islam made war on the old
religions of the world, threatening the faiths of India, and uprooting, almost
destroying, the old Zoroastrian religion of Persia.
But even in Persia, all the fanatical zeal and tyranny of Islam could not hold
back the divine and mystical side of faith. The soul
that had built the old religion of Zoroaster, wove itself a new vesture out of
the garments of Islam. The name of the Zoroastrian religion was driven out of
the uttermost corners of Persia. But the spirit of the old mystical faith
established itself in the very heart of the land. A new vesture hid the same
aboriginal soul.
Much has been written of this Sufi mysticism of Persia; but its essence could
hardly be summed up more briefly than in a tract on the Four Duties of a
Dervish, which we shall translate in full. No name is attached to this tract ;
nor
is the date of its origin quite certainly known. It was most probably written by
a Sufi Master or Murshid, for his Murids or pupils. And the style would lead us
to believe that it belongs to the sixteenth or seventeenth century, when the
genius of the great Persian poet-mystics, Attar, Jellaluddin, Senai, and Saadi,
had built up a rich symbolic imagery that colored all the writings of their
successors.
The tract begins:
In the Name of the Merciful and Compassionate God.
Four Rules are laid down for
the practice of a Dervish.
To look on the ground he treads.
To think on every breath he draws.
To long for his fatherland.
To find solitude even in society.
And the meaning of the rules is this.
To look on the ground he treads, is, having entered on the Path that was trodden
by the Pilgrims of Salvation, and by those who have learned the Truth, to walk
on it diligently, step by step.
And there is this verse:
—It is unthinkable, O Saadi, that one should enter the
true Path, otherwise than by following the Chosen One.
To think on every breath he draws, is, to be careful
never to spend a breath, without remembering the Supreme
Builder.
And there is this verse:
—Never forget right mindfulness for a moment; for that very moment may be thy last.
To long for the fatherland, is, that, living in this world of men, he must
direct himself to the world invisible, through true inwardness and meditation.
Or, he must continually think on the life beyond; as that life is the real
abode, the house eternal.
Said the Prophet, on whom be blessing
—Death is a bridge that leads the loving to the Loving.
To be in solitude even in society; for he who is in love with God is in solitude
even in society; as oil and water poured into the same vessel, do not mix. And
he who sits enthroned, but has turned his heart away from Truth follows the
poet’s words:
— He who turns from Truth, even for a moment, becomes an infidel, even though a
secret one.
And there are these notes to the Second Rule ;
I saw a righteous man who was holding council with himself, and said—O my soul,
worship the Creator! and if thou dost not worship Him, then taste not His food.
Another word of God says:
—I have created spirits and men, that they should worship me.
Therefore be content with whatever food thou receivest from God; and if thou art
not content, then seek another Master.
Thus said the Prophet, on whom be blessing:
—Abstinence is the pleasure of the Faithful.
Obey the laws of thy Creator; but if not, then leave his kingdom.
The Most High has said:
— Obey God, His ambassadors, and your Kings.
Sin not; but if thou wouldst sin, then seek a place where the Most High cannot
see thee.
And there is this verse:
—Nothing is hidden from Thee; neither the world invisible, nor my secret
thoughts.
And there are these notes to the Third Rule:
God, to whom be praise and glory, has made four pearls in man: Faith, Wisdom,
Modesty, Virtue. But they have also their opposites: Falsehood, Wrath, Greed,
Slander.
Said the Most
High:
—Unbelievers are accursed from God.
Said the Prophet, on whom be blessing:
—Unbelievers cannot be my people.
The Law also forbids wrath. And in the Life of the
Prophet it is said that modesty is generated by Faith.
And a poet has said:
—Desire and greed give men a yellow look; therefore man of virtue, force
thy greed to droop its head.
Said the Most High:
—Be not unkind to each other; speak not evil of each
other. For no one would eat the flesh of his dead brother,
even though he hated him. Fear God, for God is forgive in and gracious.
Said the Prophet, on whom be blessing:
—Evil speaking is a greater sin than lust.
If these four opposites are active in a man, then the four pearls are lost.
And there are these notes to the Fourth Rule:
In a man there are three ruling principles or kings, Soul, Heart, Passion; and
each of these has a subordinate principle or minister, Intelligence, Tongue,
Satan. Intelligence is the servant of the Soul; Tongue is the servant of the
Heart; Satan is the servant of Passion.
In the Sufi school, the Pilgrims on the road to Perfection— the whole human
race—are divided into three classes. The first and highest class are those who
have reached the goal. The second class are those who wander on the Path. And
the third class are those who stand still on the road. But the true Sufis are
only those of the first two classes and even not all of these. The
first class is composed of pure pantheists, who seek the Eternal for the Sake of
the Eternal, and to be united with the Eternal. The second class are the saints
and martyrs, who seek the Eternal, but for the sake of bliss and life. And of
the first class there are three subdivisions. First the Perfect Souls, who have
reached their aim ; the Imperfect Sufis; and the Secret Sufis, who think
it a virtue to hide their good deeds from the eyes of men.
In accordance with their first principle—that the Eternal is in everything, and
that everything is contained in the One—the pure Sufis say that happiness lies
in the absence of selfishness and selfish desire; and in making the will one
with the Eternal.
But others who claim to be Sufis say that when the personal will is abolished, a
man need no longer resist bodily temptation and practise morality. And thus the
pure pantheism of the true Sufis degenerated into a negation of the moral law,
and a contempt for the world’s opinion; a philosophy of scepticism, a reaction
from the original truth. This distorted philosophy has many followers; and they
are divided into many classes and sects.
Among the Sufis, there are far more wanderers on the road of Perfection than perfect Adepts who have reached the goal. And the wanderers no longer take as
their basis the pure pantheism of the perfect Adepts, but follow asceticism,
seeking to gain immortality and bliss by neglecting the ties and duties of this
life. Of the wanderers, there are four degrees; and each of these has its false
disciples. The first are hermits, who have renounced the world altogether. The
second are the servants of God; whose duty it is to serve the saints. They strictly perform all religious duties and charity. In the third degree are those
who pay much heed to the forms and ceremonies of religion ; distinguished
thus from the second, who place charity above all other duties. These two
degrees are not necessarily bound either to poverty or solitude; they may be
wealthy and high in the world, but their salvation depends on a right use of
their wealth. Then there is a fourth class, the Fakirs, who are also called
Dervishes and they are closest to the pure Sufis. The Fakirs hate earthly
possessions, from dread of eternal punishment, and the desire to obtain grace on
the day of judgment. Their aim is the mastery of their souls, a quiet life, and
a free entrance into paradise; as it is said that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs
to the poor.
But though higher than the Imperfect and Secret Sufis, the Fakirs and Dervishes
are immeasurably lower than the true, perfect Sufis. And we may best point out
the difference between a hermit, a Dervish, and a perfect Sufi—the three most
closely allied of these mystic orders—by referring to the text of the Four
Duties.
The first duty of the Dervish is to walk on the path of the just; the path of
self-abnegation and poverty. This rule is confirmed by a verse of the
poet-mystic Saadi:
—This ocean of life has been crossed over by the Shepherd; and he who has not
obeyed his voice, is lost. Those who listen not to his words, remain in danger;
and he who follows not the path of the Ambassador, cannot reach the shelter. It
is unthinkable, O Saadi, that one should enter
the true Path, otherwise than by following the Chosen One.
From this the Dervish concludes that, as only the prophets and the just enjoy
the bliss of heaven, their renouncement of riches and this world’s goods should
be imitated by all who seek the goal. Therefore the fakir, if he be a true
fakir, puts his poverty between himself and the deity, through his willful desire
to be poor. But the perfect Sufi has no willful desire; no will, but the will of
the Eternal, in wealth and poverty alike. Sufis have chosen to be poor, to
imitate the saints; but their poverty is never obligatory nor a necessary
condition for the perfect Sufi.
The difference between a Dervish and a perfect Sufi is again marked by the
second and third rules. Both bid the Dervish meditate on the world to come. But
a true, perfect Sufi can neither meditate on the world to come nor long to enter
it; the bliss of that world must come to the Sufi of itself; gradually and
imperceptibly, as he becomes one with the Eternal. But this is not Mahomeds
Paradise. For as Attar says,
—True Being is a vast ocean, of which Paradise is only a tiny drop; if thou
can’st gain the whole ocean, why seek a single drop of evening dew?
And the third rule, when speaking of ecstasy and contemplation, does not point
to the Nirvana of the perfect Sufis; for this is the House Eternal itself; while
the lower ecstasy is only a foretaste of the future life, which is not to be
forgotten by the Dervish even for a moment.
The fourth rule, bidding the Dervish seek solitude even in society, clearly
points to the difference between the Dervish and the hermit. The Dervish must
not flee from the world; but he must renounce the desires of the world, while
living in their midst. This verse of Saadi’s sheds more light on the difference:
—The true path of a Dervish is the service of man, and not rosaries,
prayer-carpets, and beggarly attire. Remain on the throne, but be a Dervish
through purity of life. Great men have attained glory by wearing the true robe
of a Dervish, his virtue, under kingly attire.
A parallel to the Four Duties of a Dervish is found in the Ten Duties of a perfect
Sufi, written by Saïd Ali q Hamadan. Two are missing from the manuscript, but the
remaining eight are these: Repentance; Contentment; Celibacy; Forgetfulness of
all but the Eternal; Turning toward the Eternal ; Patience;
Contemplation; Having no will but God’s. The first of these are almost
the same as the duties of the Dervish. But for the Persian mystics, the perfect
Dervish was only, the stepping-stone to the perfect Sufi. The goal of the
perfect
Sufi, who— Soars on the wings of the Eternal to regions far above the
world of man.
Thus rising above the life of the world, they mystically fulfil the words of the
Prophet,
—Kill thyself before thou art dead!
But only the Sufis understand these words in a mystic sense. The mass of
Mahommedans find in them only a command to kill out physical fear, and to give
their lives for the Prophet.
This article is partly based on an essay in the Proceedings of the
Archæological Society of Moscow, Russia.
No.18.—JULY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE BIRTH OF THE WORLD-EGG. p.49
MANAVA
DHARMA SHASTRA I.
THE universe was wrapped in darkness, unseen, unnamed, unthinkable, unknowable,
in dreamless sleep.
Then the Self-being, the unmanifested Master, manifested this universe and its
powers ; the Light appeared, breaking through the darkness.
Thinking and longing to put forth varied beings from himself, he put forth first
the Waters, and in them put forth his power.
This power became a Golden Egg, thousand-parted, equal- formed in this the
evolver himself was born, the great father of all the worlds,
And the Master, dwelling in the egg for a season, through himself, through
thought, divided the egg in two.
And from the two parts moulded Heaven and Earth, and in the midst, the expanse,
the spaces, the perpetual place of the Waters.
FIRST
PRINCIPLES.
pgs.50-53
CHANDOGYA
UPANISHAD.
Sixth Chapter 1-7.
THERE
lived once Shvetaketu, Aruni’s
grandson; his father addressed him, saying:
—Shvetaketu, go, learn the service of the Eternal; for no
one, dear, of our family is an unlearned nominal worshipper.
So going when he was twelve years old, he returned when he
was twenty-four; he had learned all the Vedas, but was conceited,
vain of his learning and proud.
His father addressed him, saying:
—Shvetaketu, you are conceited, vain of your learning, and proud, dear; but have
you asked for that teaching through which the unheard is heard, the unthought is
thought, the unknown is known?
—What sort of teaching is that, Master? said he.
—Just as, dear, by a single piece of clay anything made of
clay may be known, for the difference is only one of words and names, and the
truth is that it is of clay; or just as, dear, by one jewel of gold, anything
made of gold may be known, for the difference is only one of words and names,
and the truth is that it is gold; or just as, dear, by a single knife-blade,
anything made of iron may be known, for the difference is only one of words and
names, and the truth is that it is iron; just like this is the teaching that
makes the unknown known.
—But I am sure that those teachers did not know this
themselves; for if they had known it, how would they not have taught
it to me? said he; but now let my Master tell it to me.
—Let it be so, dear; said he.
—In the beginning, dear, there was Being, alone and
second-less. But there are some who say that there was non-Being in the
beginning, alone and second-less; so that Being would be born from non-Being; but
how could this be so, dear? said he; how could Being be born from non-Being? Lo
there was Being, dear, in the beginning, alone and second-less.
—Then Being said: Let me become great; let me give birth.
—Then it put forth Radiance.
—Then Radiance said: Let me become great; let me give birth.
—Then It put forth the Waters. Just as a man is hot and
sweats, so from radiant Heat the waters were born.
—Then the Waters said: Let us become great; let us give
birth.
—They put forth the world, food, earth. Just as when it rains
much food is produced, so from the Waters the world-food, Earth was born.
—Of all these, of beings, there are three germs: what is born
of the Egg, what is born of Life, what is born of Division.
—That Power, Being, said: Let me enter these three
powers,—Radiance, the Waters, Earth,—by this life, by my Self, let me give them
manifold forms and names. Let me make each one of them threefold, threefold.
—So that Power,—Being,—entered those three powers,—Radiance,
Waters, Earth,—by this Life, by the Self, and gave them manifold forms and
names; and so made each one of them threefold, threefold. And now learn, dear,
how these three powers are, how each one of them becomes threefold and
threefold.
—In fire, the radiant form is from Radiance; the clear form,
from the Waters; the dark form, from Earth. But the separate nature of fire is a
thing of names and words only, while the real thing is the three forms.
—So of the sun, the radiant form is from Radiance; the clear
form, from the Waters, the dark form, from Earth; but the separate nature of the
sun is a thing of names and words only, while the real thing is the three forms.
—So of the moon, the radiant form is from Radiance; the clear
form, from the Waters; the dark form, from Earth; but the separate nature of the
moon is a thing of names and words only, while the real thing is the three
forms.
—So of lightning, the radiant form is from Radiance; the
clear form from the Waters: the dark form from Earth. But the separate nature of
lightning is a thing of names and words only, the real thing is the three forms.
—Therefore of old time those who knew this, the great sages
and teachers of old, spoke thus: None of us may now speak of anything as
unheard, unthought, unknown.
—For by these three forms they knew everything. For whatever
was like radiant, its form was from Radiance, they said, and
thus knew it. And
whatever was like clear, its form was from the Waters, they said, and so knew
it. And whatever was like dark, its form was from Earth, they said, and so knew
it. Thus whatever was known they took to be a union of these three powers, and
thus they knew it.
—But how these three powers are, when they come to man, how
each of them becomes threefold, this learn from me now.
—Food which is eaten is divided threefold. Its grossest part
becomes waste; its middle part becomes flesh; its lightest part becomes mind.
—Waters that are drunk are divided threefold. The grossest
part becomes waste; the middle part becomes blood; the lightest part becomes
vital breath.
—Things that produce radiant heat, when absorbed, are
divided threefold. The grossest part becomes bone; the middle part becomes
marrow; the lightest part becomes formative voice.
—For mind, dear, is formed of the world-food Earth; vital
breath is formed of the Waters; formative voice is formed of Radiance.
—Let my master teach me further; said he.
—Be it so, dear; said he.
Of churned milk, dear, the lightest part rises to the top and
becomes butter. Just so of eaten food the lightest part rises to the top and
becomes mind. And so of waters that are drunk, the lightest part rises to the
top, and becomes vital breath.
And so when heat-giving things are eaten, the lightest part
rises to the top, and becomes formative Voice.
For mind, dear, is formed of Earth; vital breath is formed of
the Waters ; formative voice is formed of Radiance.
— Let my Master teach me further, said he.
— Be it so, dear, said he.
Man, dear, is made of sixteen parts. Eat nothing for fifteen
days, but drink as much as you wish ; for vital breath, being formed of
Water, is cut off if you do not drink.
He ate nothing for fifteen days, and then approached the
Master, saying : What shall I repeat, Master?
— Repeat the Rig and Yajur and Sama Veda verses, dear, said
he.
— None of them come into my mind, Master, said he.
The teacher said to him: As, dear, after a big fire, if a
single spark remains, as big as a fire-fly, it will not burn much just so, dear,
of your sixteen parts one remains, and by this one part you cannot remember the
Vedas.
Go, eat; and then I will teach you.
He ate, and then returned to the Master; and whatever the
Master asked, all came back to his mind.
The Master said to him : As, dear, after a big fire, if even
a single spark remains, as big as a fire fly, and if it be fed with straw, it
will blaze up and will then burn much; just so, dear, of your sixteen parts one
part was left ; and this, being fed with food, blazed up, and through it you
remembered the Vedas.
For mind is formed of Food; vital breath is formed of the
Waters ; formative voice is formed of Radiance.
Thus he learned ; thus, verily, he learned.
No.18.—JULY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
BEING.
pgs. 54-58
RADIANCE, WATERS. EARTH.
I understand the main tenet of Materialism to be that there is nothing in the
universe but matter and force this I heartily disbelieve [for] in the first
place, as I have already hinted, it seems to me pretty plain that there is a
third thing in the universe, to wit, consciousness, which, in the hardness of my
heart or head, I cannot see to be matter or force, or any conceivable
modification of either, however intimately the manifestations of the phenomena
of consciousness may be connected with the phenomena known as matter and force.
(Essays on Some Controverted Questions. “Science and Morals”,
p. 220, by Thomas H. Huxey, F,R.S._London Macmillan & Co., 1892.)
WHAT is that teaching through which the unheard is heard, the unthought is
thought, the unknown is known?
We shall best understand the answer of Shvetaketu's father,
by turning both question and answer into our own words; by recasting the thought
that underlies them in our own thought and language.
A hundred or a thousand oak trees are all different; even
among the separate leaves of each tree, seek as long as we may, we shall never
find two exactly the same. Yet, in spite of this endless variety, this literally
infinite diversity, our reason, after comparing many leaves together, is able to
form the general concept of an oak-leaf ; not this leaf or that leaf, but an
oak-leaf in general.
Then we do the same thing with the bark, the branches and the
wood ; and at last we form the general concept of an oak-tree ; not identical
with any particular tree that we have ever seen, and yet containing all
individual oak-trees within it.
And we may also form a general concept of beech trees,
fir-trees, chestnut-trees, and at last form the concept of a tree, which will
not be identical with any of them, and yet will include them all.
And our general concept or idea of a tree will be applicable
not only to the trees we have seen and known and thought of, but also to all
other trees in the world ; so that once our general idea is formed, no tree will
be unthought of, but all trees will become known ; not in their individual
peculiarities which are endless, but in their essential nature, as trees, which
is always one and the same.
Just
in the same way, if we can form a general concept of life, of the
universe, the essential nature of the whole of life will be known to us; nothing
more will remain unknown, unheard, unthought for we shall he in possession of a
general formula applicable to every particular case.
This arriving at a general formula for life, for the
universe, is the science which Shvetaketu had not learned ; and
which his father elucidates for him with a world of quaint illustrations and
parables, as delicious as they are profound.
To begin our philosophy of the universe, is there any single
principle which we can all agree upon, whether we be materialists or
spiritualists, idealists, pantheists, or anything else.
There is one fundamental proposition which cannot possibly be disputed. This is,
that there is a universe, whether it be built of dreams or molecules. The
universe is; life is And as the universe includes everything, there can be
nothing but the universe.
Therefore, to begin with, the universe is, and there is
nothing but the universe. Or, as Shvetaketu’s father puts it, Being was in the
beginning, dear, alone and secondless.
Now we can further express this universe, the totality of all
that is, the totality of life, in another way. We can find a single fundamental
process, a single abstract idea, underlying it everywhere and always ;
and by doing this we shall have taken another step in the science which
makes known the unknown, heard the unheard, thought the unthought.
Take a single fact of the universe; take a single incident of
life, —the reading of this page. There is, first of all, the reader; then there
is the page that is read ; then there is the reading, which runs errands between
the reader and what is read, and binds them together. There are these three: the
reader, the reading, and what is read; the knower, the knowing, and the known.
And take any other fact of the universe, any other fact of
life, and you will find this same threefold process present ; you
will find everywhere the triad, the perceiver, the perceiving, the perceived
; the knower, the knowing, the known.
There are, therefore, these two facts: firstly, that the
universe is, that life is; and, secondly, that, wherever we take the
universe, wherever we take life, we find this triad, this threefold process, of
the knower, the knowing, the known.
The universe is ; and is manifest in this
three-fold way, always and everywhere. Thus, in the words of Shvetaketu’s
father, Uddalaka Aruni’s son, Being becomes threefold, threefold.
There
is the reader, the reading, and what is read. And we may add to this another
indisputable proposition. The reader cannot conceivably be the reading; the
reader cannot conceivably be what is read, — the reader cannot be the printed
page. And so universally, the knower cannot be the knowing or the known. Or, to
put the same thing in other words, — this time taken from Mr. Huxley,
consciousness cannot be force or matter, or any conceivable modification of
either of them.
And this is equivalent to saying that consciousness cannot be
involved in the accidents which force and matter are subject to ; in
other words, consciousness is self-existent, and therefore everlasting. Now
there is a twofoldness about consciousness. There is the first fact: I perceive,
I know that I read. And there is the second fact: I know that I am.
Now if it be inconceivable that consciousness should be any
possible modification of matter or force or by any possibility derived from
them, still more is it inconceivable that the consciousness, I know that I
am,—the conscious ‘I am I’, —should be derived from matter or force or anything
else in the universe, if there be anything else ; the conscious ‘I am I’
is self-existent ‘ which is another way of saying that it is beginningless,
endless, eternal.
To realise that ‘I am I’ is the first step of that awakening
to the Self which is recorded by Shankaracharya.
But we cannot say there is this twofoldness about the other
elements of our triad : the knowing and the known. We cannot say that the
knowing and the known have the consciousness that ‘I am I’. They are, therefore,
secondary realities ; dependent realities; while the primary,
self-existent reality is the Knower, who contains not only the idea ‘I perceive’
but also the idea ‘I am I’.
Here, then, beginning from a single incident in life, the
reading of a page, we have arrived at a generalization which applies to every
fast of the universe, every mode of life : we have arrived at the dividing
threefold, threefold ; the triad of knower, knowing, known; of which the
first, the knower, is the primary, self-existent reality ; is, in other
words, eternal. This is the method of Uddalaka Aruni’s son, and the wise men of
old, which makes known the unknown, heard the unheard, thought the unthought.
From this first triad, which is in reality only a mode of the
eternal unity, Being, —we derive a second triad which this time
concerns the knowing and the known rather than the knower. Things known are not
fixed but fluid, fugitive, perpetually changing. And these changes take place in
a certain regular way, which is also threefold, three-fold! There is the thing
that changes, the changing, and the thing it changes into; or, in other words,
the cause, the causing, and the effect, which is in its turn a new cause, giving
birth to a new causing and a new effect . There is beginning, middle, end; which
end is a new beginning. There is birth, ripeness, death; which death is a new
birth. Or, in other words, there is the radiant point, the fluid change, the
concrete result ;. or Radiance, the Waters, Earth, as Shvetaketu’s
father says.
Now if we find this triad everywhere in the universe, we may
reasonably say that its omnipresence is only to be accounted for by the fact
that this threefoldness lies at the root of the universe that there are a
primordial Radiance, Waters, Earth at the heart of things.
And this primordial triad we may call the Heavens, the
Expanse, and the Earth, dwelling as Manu says, in the Golden Egg totality.
We cannot at present follow the triad through all its
threefoldness, applying it as the teacher does, to the sun, the moon, lightning,
and, lastly, to man. We need only note the higher triad in man, the triad of
‘formative voice, life, mind’. This ‘life’ in the higher triad of man is, says
Shankara, the Golden Egg of totality of the ‘little world of man’. The
‘formative voice’ is the radiant power which lights up the life ;
very likely what other Upanishads called ‘Buddhi’. Then mind, ‘Manas’is the
child of these two, their manifest form, the most outward of the first triad of
the ‘little world of man’.
But we can only suggest the development of this threefoldness
in man at present, this division into body, soul, and spirit, leaving the fuller
treatment of it to another time ; when we shall have occasion to
speak of Shankara’s teaching of the three vestures, the physical vesture, the
emotional vesture, the causal vesture.
These three vestures agree accurately with the three modes of
Being, taught to Shvetaketu. Being puts forth Radiance, Radiance puts forth the
Waters, the Waters put forth Earth; just as the Self puts forth the causal
vesture, the causal vesture puts forth the emotional vesture, which puts forth
the physical vesture. Then Being manifests itself or embodies itself, in each of
its three emanations; just as the Self embodies itself in each of the three
vestures.
There is therefore the Self, its three modes, —the causal,
emotional, and physical selves,—and its three vestures,—the causal, emotional
and physical vestures ; —so that we may call this a one-fold, three-fold,
four-fold, or seven-fold classification, accord-
ing to our way of counting. The Knower, we said, is twofold. It contains, first,
the idea ‘I know that I perceive’; and, secondly,
the idea, ‘I know that I am’. It is more than this It is threefold. It contains
not only the possibility of perceiving, and the possibility of being; but also
the possibility of enjoying bliss. Therefore when the limitations and stumbling
blocks are all removed, and the Self realises its eternal perfection it will
contain not only the ideas ‘I am perfect and ‘I know perfectly’ but also the
idea ‘I enjoy perfect bliss’; for, as Shankara tells us again and again, ‘the
own nature of the Self is perfect Being, perfect Consciousness, perfect Bliss’.
No.18.—JULY, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE
AWAKENING TO THE SELF. pgs. 59-63
SHANKARACHARYA’S ATMA BODHA.
THIS awakening to the Self is recorded for those whose inner darkness has
been worn away by strong effort, who have reached restfulness, from whom passion
has departed, who seek perfect Freedom.
Among all causes, wisdom is the only case of perfect Freedom;
as cookery without fire, so perfect Freedom cannot be accomplished without
wisdom.
Works cannot destroy unwisdom, as these two are not
contraries; but wisdom destroys unwisdom, as light the host of darkness.
At first wrapped in unwisdom,, when unwisdom is destroyed the
,pure Self shines forth of itself, like the radiant sun when the clouds have
passed.
When life that was darkened by unwisdom is made clear by the
coming of wisdom, unwisdom sinks away of itself, as when water is cleared by
astringent juice.
This world is like a dream, crowded with loves and hates ; in
its own time it shines like a reality; but on awakening it becomes unreal.
This passing world shines as real, like the silver imagined
in a pearl-shell, as long as the Eternal is not known, the secondless substance
of all.
In the real conscious Self, the all-penetrating everlasting
pervader, all manifested things exist, as all bracelets exist in gold.
Just like the ether, the Lord of the senses, the Radiant,
clothed in many vestures, seems divided because these are divided, but is beheld
as one when the vestures are destroyed.
Through this difference of vesture, race, name, and home are
attributed to the Self, as difference of taste and color to pure water.
Built up of fivefold-mingled elements through accumulated
works is the physical vesture, the place where pleasure and pain are tasted.
Holding the five life-breaths, mind, reason, and the ten
perceiving and acting powers, formed of unmingled elements, is the subtle
vesture, the instrument of enjoyment.
Formed through the beginningless, ineffable error of
separateness, is the causal vesture. One should hold the Self to be different
from these three vestures.
In the presence of the five veils, the pure Self seems to
share their nature ; like a crystal in the presence of blue tissues.
The pure Self within should be wisely discerned from the
veils that surround it, as rice by winnowing, from husk and chaff.
Though ever all-present, the Self is not everywhere clearly
beheld; let it shine forth in pure reason like a reflection in a pure mirror.
The thought of difference arises through the vestures, the
powers, mind, reason, and nature; but one must find the Self, the Witness of all
this being, the perpetual king.
Through the busy activity of the powers, the Self seems busy;
as the moon seems to course through the coursing clouds.
The vestures, powers, mind, and reason move in their paths
under the pure consciousness of the Self, as people move in the sunshine.
The qualities of vestures, powers, and works are attributed
to the spotless Self through undiscernment, as blue to the pure sky.
Through unwisdom, the mental vesture’s actorship is
attributed to the Self, as the ripple of the waves to the moon reflected in a
lake.
Passion, desire, pleasure, pain move the mind; but when the
mind rests in deep sleep they cease; they belong to the mind, not to the Self.
Shining is the sun’s nature; coldness, the water’s; heat, the
fire’s; so the Self’s nature is Being, Consciousness, Bliss, perpetual
spotlessness.
The Self lends Being and Consciousness, and mind lends
activity. When these two factors are joined together by undiscernment, there
arises the feeling that ‘I perceive’.
The Self never changes; and mind of itself cannot perceive
but the Self through error believes itself to be the habitual doer and
perceiver.
The Self is believed to be the habitual life, as a rope is
believed to be a snake; and thus fear arises. But when it is known that ‘I am
not the habitual life but the Self’ then there can be no more fear.
The Self alone lights up the mind and powers, as a flame
lights up a jar. The Self can never be lit by these dull powers.
In the knowledge of the Self, there is no need that it should
be known by anything else. A light does not need another light; it shines of
itself.
Putting all veils aside, saying ‘it is not this! it is not this!’ one must find
the real unity of the habitual Self and the Supreme Self, according to the words
of wisdom.
All outward things, the vestures and the rest, spring from
unwisdom; they are fugitive as bubbles. One must find the changeless, spotless
‘I am the Eternal’.
As I am other than these vestures, not mine are their birth,
weariness, suffering, dissolution. I am not bound by sensuous objects, for Self
is separate from the powers of sense.
As I am other than mind, not mine are pain, rage, hate, and
fear. The Self is above the outward life and mind, according to the words of
wisdom.
From this Self come forth the outward life and mind, and all
the powers; from the Self come ether, air, fire, the waters, and earth upholder
of all.
Without quality or activity, everlasting, free from doubt,
stainless, changeless, formless, ever free am I the spotless Self.
Like ether, outside and inside all, I am unmoved; always
all-equal, pure, unstained, spotless, unchanged.
The ever-pure lonely one, the part-less bliss, the second-less,
truth, wisdom, endless, the Supreme Eternal; this am I.
Thus the steadily-held remembrance that ‘I am the Eternal’
takes away all unwisdom, as the healing essence stills all pain.
In solitude, passionless, with powers well-ruled, let him be
intent on the one, the Self, with no thought but that endless one.
The wise through meditation immersing all outward things in
the Self, should be intent on that only Self, spotless as shining ether.
Setting aside name, color, form, the insubstantial causes of
separateness, the knower of the supreme rests in perfect Consciousness and
Bliss.
The difference between knower, knowing, and known exists not
in the Self ; for through its own Consciousness and Bliss it shines
self-luminous.
Thus setting the fire stick of thought in the socket of the
Self, let the kindled flame of knowledge burn away the fuel of unwisdom.
By knowledge, as by dawn, the former darkness is driven away;
then is manifest the Self, self-shining like the radiant sun.
Yet the Self, though eternally possessed, is as though not
possessed, through unwisdom. When unwisdom disappears, the Self shines forth
like a jewel on one’s own throat.
Separate life is conceived in the Eternal by error, as a man
is imagined in a post. But the pain of separation ceases when the truth about it
is perceived.
By entering into real nature, wisdom swiftly arises. Then the
unwisdom of ‘I’ and ‘mine’ disappears, as when a mistake about the position of
north and south is set right.
The seeker after union, possessed of all knowledge, sees with
the eye of wisdom that all things rest in the Self; and this Self is. the One,
the All.
Self is all this moving world; other than Self is naught. As
all jars are earth, so he beholds all as the Self.
Perfect Freedom even in life is this, that a man should shake
himself free from all the limits of his disguises, through the essence of
Reality, Consciousness, Bliss, just as the grub becomes the bee.
Crossing the ocean of glamor, and slaying the monsters,
passion and hate, the seeker for union, perfect in peace, grows luminous in the
garden of the Self.
Free from bondage to outward, unlasting pleasures, and
returning to the joy of the Self, he shines pure within like the flame in a
lamp.
Even when hidden under disguises, let the Sage stand free
from them, like pure ether. Though knowing all, let him be as though he knew
nothing; moving untrammelled like the air.
Let the Sage, shaking off his disguises, merge himself
utterly in the all-pervading One; as water in water, ether in ether, flame in
flame.
The gain above all gains, the joy above all joys, the wisdom
above all wisdoms; let him affirm that it is the Eternal.
When this is seen, there is no more to see ; when this
is attained, there is no more to attain; when this is known, there is no more to
know ;—let him affirm that this is the Eternal.
Upward, downward, on all sides perfect; Being, Consciousness,
Bliss; the second-less, endless, everlasting One ;—let him affirm that this is
the Eternal.
Through the knowledge that nothing is but the Eternal, the
unchanging One is beheld by the wise; the aboriginal, part-less joy; let him
affirm that this is the Eternal.
As partakers in the bliss of that part-less, blissful One, the
Evolver and all the powers enjoy their bliss as dependants.
Every being is bound to the Eternal; every movement follows
the Eternal; the all-embracing Eternal is in all, as curd is in all milk.
Nor small nor great nor short nor long, nor born nor departing,
without form, attribute, color, name ;—let him affirm that this is the Eternal.
Through whose shining shine the sun and all lights-; but who
shines not by any’s light ; through whom all this shines ;—let him affirm
that this is the Eternal.
All present within and without, making luminous all this
moving, the Eternal shines forth glowing of red-hot iron.
The Eternal is different from the moving world, — yet other
than the Eternal is naught! What is other than the Eternal shines insubstantial,
like the mirage in the desert.
Things seen and heard are not other than the Eternal.
Knowledge of reality teaches that all this is the Eternal, the Being,
Consciousness, Bliss, the second-less.
The eye of wisdom beholds the ever-present Consciousness,
Bliss, the Self, the eye of unwisdom beholds not, as the blind beholds not the
shining sun.
The personal life, refined through and through by the fire of
wisdom, which right learning and knowledge kindle, shines pure as gold, freed
from every stain.
The Self, rising in the firmament of the heart, — sun of
wisdom, darkness-dispersing, all-present, all supporting,— shines forth and
illumines all.
He who, drawing away from space and time, faithfully worships
in the holy place of the divine Self,— the ever-present, the destroyer of heat
and cold and every limit, the stainless, eternally happy, —he all-knowing,
entering the All, becomes immortal.
(Thus the Awakening to the Self is completed.)
No. 19.—SEPTEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
‘TRUE FRIENDSHIP.
p.65
From She Hiri Sutta of the Buddhists.
HE
who transgresses and despises modesty, who says—I am a friend but undertakes
nothing for his friend, know that he is no friend.
Whoever uses soft words to friends without sincerity, him the
wise know as one that speaks but acts not.
He is no true friend who always eagerly suspects a breach,
and is on the watch for faults, but he is a true friend with whom you dwell as a
child at the breast of his mother; from such a friend none can ever divide you.
FIRST PRINCIPLES. pgs. 65-69
CHHANDOGYA UPANISHAD.
-: Sixth Chapter, 8-16.
ARUNA’S
son Uddalaka addressed his son Shvetaketu, saying:
— Learn from me, dear, the reality about sleep. When a man
sinks to sleep, as they say, then, dear, he is wrapped by the Real; be has slipt
back to his own. And so they say, he sleeps, because he has slipt back to his
own. And just as an eagle tied by a cord, flying hither and thither, and finding
no other resting place, comes to rest where he is tied, so indeed, dear, the
man’s Mind flying hither and thither, and finding no other resting place, comes
to rest in the Life, for Mind, dear, is bound by the Life.
—Learn from me, dear, the meaning of hunger and thirst. When
a man hungers, as they say, the Waters guide what he eats. And as there are
guides of cows, guides of horses, guides of men, so they call the Waters the
guides of what is eaten. Thus you must know, dear, that what he eats grows and
sprouts forth; and it cannot grow without a root.
—And where can the root of what he eats be? Where, but in the
world-food, Earth?
—And through the world-food, Earth, that has sprouted forth,
you must seek the root, the Waters. And through the waters that have sprouted
forth, you must seek the root, Radiance. And through Radiance that has sprouted
forth, you must seek the root, the Real. For all these beings, dear, are rooted
in the Real, resting in the Real, abiding in the Real.
— And so when the man thirsts, as they say, the Radiance
guides what he drinks. And as there are guides of cows, guides of horses, guides
of men, so, they say, the Radiance guides the Waters. Thus you must know, dear,
that what he drinks grows and sprouts forth; and it cannot grow without a root.
—And where can the root of what he drinks be? Where, but in
the Waters? And through the waters that sprout forth, you must seek their root,
the Radiance. And through the Radiance, dear, that sprouts forth, you must seek
its root, the Real. For all these beings, dear, are rooted in the Real, resting
in the Real, abiding in the Real. And how these three the world-food, Earth, the
Waters, Radiance, coming to a man, become each three-fold, three-fold, this has
been taught already.
—And of a man who goes forth, formative Voice sinks back into Mind; Mind sinks back
into the Life, the Life to Radiance, and Radiance to the Higher Divinity. This
is the Spirit, the Self of all that is, this is the Real. this the Self, THAT
THOU ART,
O Shvetaketu!
—Let the Master teach me more! said he.
Let it be so, dear! said he. As the honey-makers, dear,
gather the honey from many a tree, and weld the nectars together in a single
nectar; and as they find no separateness there, nor say:
Of that tree I am the nectar, of that tree I am the nectar.
Thus, indeed, dear, all these beings, when they reach the Real, know no
separateness, but say we have reached the Real. But whatever they are here,
whether tigers or lions or wolves or boars or worms or moths or gnats or flies,
that they become again when they come forth from the Real. And this Spirit is
the Self of all that is, this is the Real, this the Self. THAT
THOU ART, O Shvetaketu!
—Let the Master teach me more! said he.
— Let it be so, dear! said he. These eastern rivers, dear,
roll eastward ; and the western, westward. From the ocean to the ocean
they go, and in the ocean they are united. And there they know no separateness,
nor say: This am I, This am I. Thus indeed, dear, all these beings, coming forth
from the Real, know not that they have come forth from the Real. And whatever
they are here, whether tigers or lions or wolves or boars or worms or moths or
gnats or flies or whatever they are, that thy become again. And that Spirit is
the Self of all that is, this is the Real, this the Self. THAT
THOU ART. O Shvetaketu!
—Let the Master teach me more! said he.
—Let it be so, dear! said he. If any one strike the root of
this great tree, dear, it will flow and live, if anyone strike the middle of it,
it will flow and live; if any one strike the top of it, it will flow and live.
So filled with the Life, with the Self, drinking in and rejoicing, it stands
firm. But if the life of it should leave one branch, that branch dries up; if it
should leave a second, that dries up; if it should leave a third, that dries up;
and if it leaves the whole, the whole dries up. Thus indeed, dear, you must
understand! said he. When abandoned by the life, verily, this dies; but the life
itself does not die. For that Spirit is the Self of all that is, this is the
Real, this the Self. THAT THOU ART, O Shvetaketu!
—Let the Master teach me more! said he.
—Let it be so, dear! said he. Bring me a fruit of that fig-
tree!
—Here is the fruit, Master!
—Divide it into two, said he.
—I have divided it, Master.
—What do you see in it? said he.
—Atom-like seeds, Master!
—Divide one of them in two, said he.
—I have divided it, Master!
—What do you see in it? said he.
—I see nothing at all, Master!
So the Master said to him:
—That Spirit that you perceive not at all, dear,—from that
very Spirit the great fig-tree comes forth. Believe then, dear, that this Spirit
is the Self of all that is, this is the Real, this the Self. THAT
THOU ART, O Shvetaketu!
—Let the Master teach me more! said he.
— Let it be so, dear! said he. Put this salt in water, and
come to me early in the morning.
And he did so, and the Master said to him:
—That salt you put in the water last night bring it to me!
And looking for its appearance, he could not see it, as it was melted in the
water.
—Taste the top of it! said he. How is It?
—It is salt! said he.
—Taste the middle of it! said he. How is it?
—It is salt ! said he.
—Taste the bottom of it! said he. How is it?
—It is salt ! said he.
—Take it away, then, and return to me.
And he did so; but that salt exists for ever. And the Master
said-to him:
—Just so, dear, you do not see the Real in the world. Yet it
is there all the same. And this Spirit is the Self of all that is, it is the
Real, it is the Self. THAT THOU ART, O Shvetaketu!
—Let the Master teach me more! said he.
—Let it be so, dear! said he. Just as if they were to
blindfold a man, and lead him far away from Gandhara, and leave him in the
wilderness; and as he cried to the east and the north and the west: I am led
away blindfolded! I am deserted blindfolded! And just as if one came, and
loosing the bandage from his eyes, told him: In that direction is Gandhara In
that direction you must go! And he asking from village to village like a wise
man and learned, should come safe to Gandhara. Thus, verily, a man who has found
the true Teacher, the Self, knows. He must wait only till he is free,
then he reaches the resting-place. And that Spirit is the Self of all that is,
this is the Real, this is the Self. THAT THOU ART,
O Shvetaketu!
—Let the Master teach me more! said he.
—Let it be so, dear! said he. When a man is near his
end, his friends gather round him : Do you know me? Do you know me? they say.
And until formative Voice sinks back into Mind, and Mind into the Life, and the
Life into the Radiance, and the Radiance into the Higher Divinity, he still
knows them. But when formative Voice sinks back into Mind, and Mind into the
Life, and the Life into the Radiance, and the Radiance into the Higher Divinity,
he knows them not. And that Spirit is the Self of all that is, this is the Real,
this is the Self. THAT THOU ART, O Shvetaketu!
— Let the Master teach me more! said he.
— Let it he so, dear! said he. They seize a man and bring
him: He has stolen! they say, He has committed theft, Heat the axe for the
ordeal! And if he is the doer of it, and makes himself untrue; maintaining
untruth, and wrapping himself in untruth, he grasps the heated axe; he burns,
and so dies. But if he be not the doer of it, he makes himself true; maintaining
truth, and wrapping himself in truth, he grasps the heated axe; he burns not,
and so goes free. And the truth that saves him is the Self of all that is, this
is the Real, this is the Self. THAT THOU ART, O
Shvetaketu! Thus he learned the truth; thus he learned it.
No. 19.—SEPTEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THAT THOU ART. pgs. 70-74
THIS is the most renowned passage in all the Vedas;
the last word of the wisdom of India. The Master, having gradually unfolded to
his son the first and initial thought of the old Theosophy,—the differencing of
the one reality into the threefold seeming of the world,—graduly rises to the
last and final thought of the same wisdom,—the identity of the real self of
every man with that one reality; the real, immemorial, eternal oneness between
the self of each and the Self of All.
And before turning to this last and final thought of the
ancient wisdom, we may very well follow once more the earlier steps by which the
Master gradually leads up to this grand and final truth of identity. The real,
he says, is in the beginning, one and secondless. And this real becomes
differenced in a threefold way.
First there is the Radiance, and from the Radiance come the
Waters; and from the Waters comes the world-food, Earth. And the Real, the Self
embodies itself in this threefold seeming world. We can at once make this
teaching clear and lucid, we can at once bring it home to ourselves, by applying
it not to the great world of nature, but to the little world of man.
And, to do so, we had better begin with the outermost of the
threefold worlds, the world of the world-food, Earth. As we have already seen,
this is the world of the outward life of physical, animal man; where man, the
physical self, moves amid his immemorial companions, the mountains, the sea, the
sky, the forests, the sun-light and the quiet stars.
Blending and intermingling with these old companions of his,
the physical man moves among them, partaking of their varied seeming, a sharer
in their multiform nature. And as there are, in this outward world of earth, not
the life-giving mountains only, and the quiet stars, but the ape and the tiger
also, so the physical man becomes partaker of their lives too; of the
selfishness of the tiger and the sensuality of the ape. He hungers, as they say.
And where should be the root of this hunger? Where but in the world-food, Earth?
The nature of the physical man, that he shares with the ape
and with the tiger, is the immediate outcome, the inevitable result of this
seeming outward world; from this seeming outward world it grows and sprouts
forth, as the stem and branches of a tree grow, and sprout forth from the root.
Then there is developed or unfolded the middle world of man;
the world of reflections; the world of the Waters. This world of reflections, of
the Waters, is the world of man’s emotional life, the world of fancies and
longings; the world of his desires and dreams. And in this world there are
pictures, drawn after the pictures of the outer world; mountains and skies of
finer texture, fancy-woven, and peopled with images and dreams. Thus in the
world of reflection, the world of the Waters, man lives and dwells, from the day
he ceases to be pure animal, from the day he begins to be man.
And among all the fluid images of this inner world, he makes
a king in the image of his outward body; a personal self who dreams himself to
be real; just as the physical self before him figured himself to be the only
reality ;—the outward king of the outward world of mountain and sky and sea.
And this inward king of the world of reflections and fancies,
of the world of the Waters, feeds himself with hopes and fears, with joys and
sorrows, with loves and hates. He thirsts, they say; and the world of hopes and
fears, of loves and hates, ministers to his thirst. And where can the root of
what he drinks be? Where but in the Waters? It is the inevitable necessity of
the emotional world, the dream-world of fancies and fears, that his life should
be ministered to, in this and in no other way.
Then the life of the outward world is no longer the simple
life of ape and tiger; what he draws from the outward world,
—what he eats, as they say,—is now led and guided by the laws of his inward
world; is led and guided by his hopes and fears, his loves and hates. Thus what
he eats, though having its root in the Earth, is yet guided by the Waters. His
outward, physical life is guided by the inward mental life.
This mental, emotional life, we saw, was the world of the
Waters, the world of reflections. And herein lies our hope of salvation. For
this middle world can reflect not only the world of Earth that lies beneath it,
but also the world of Radiance that soars above it. So that the middle nature of
man, which is the heart and king of the middle world, reflects not only the
things of Earth, of the physical self, from below, but also the things of
Radiance, the things of the intuitional self, from above. And these things of
the intuitional self that are above, appear in the fluid background of the
emotional self as the ‘gleams’ of intuition, the ‘glow’ of conscience, the
‘fire’ of genius, the ‘dim star’ of moral life, burning within; so universal is
this simile of the Radiance, of Fire, for the life of the Higher Self.
Then
no longer do the things of the Waters, the hopes and fears, the loves and hates,
the dreams and desires, flow in never ceasing, never resting tides. The middle
nature has found a resting place; the life of the emotional self is led and
guided by the life of the intuitional self; the pure light of the soul, the
Radiance, shines across the ever-ebbing, ever flowing waves, illumining them,
and leading and warming them into perfect rightness. Thus the great reality of
moral life begins; the choosing of the better rather than the dearer; the life
of Radiance, rather than the life of the world-food, Earth. And even if this
Radiance has sunk down to a little flame, no bigger than a firefly’s glow, if it
be fed and cherished, it will grow into a mighty fire, consuming all things, and
lighting the whole world with its brightness.
Thus, through the world-food, Earth, must be sought its root,
the Waters; and through the Waters must be sought their root, the Radiance.
Through the physical, outward life, must be found the inner emotional life, and
through this must be found the inmost life of the soul.
But if in the outward life we saw man partaker of the nature
of ape and tiger; and if in the middle life, the personal self,— dream-king of a
world of dreams,—is partaker of the nature of peacock and love-lorn nightingale,
on entering the inner world of the Radiance he must likewise become partaker of
its life. And as it is of the nature of Radiance that all sunbeams come forth
from the one sun; that sunbeam and sunbeam are brothers together, children of
the one father, and at heart one with their father; so it is of the nature of
the inner world of Radiance, the world of the soul, that soul and soul are
brothers together, children of the one Spirit, and at heart one with that
Spirit.
Thus, as, on the dawn of emotional life,—the life of the
human self,—that old physical self, with all its partaking in the life of ape
and tiger, became antiquated and out of date, and ministered only to the life of
the human, self; in the same way, and with greater reality, on the dawn of the
radiant life,—the moral life, the life of the soul,—that human self with all its
partaking in the nature of peacock and nightingale, becomes out of date and
antiquated, and ministers only to the life of the soul, the life of the divine
self.
With the beginning of this real life,—lighted with the fire of genius, the glow
of intuition,—the old sense of separateness, the pride of the peacock, the
desolation of the love-sick nightingale, begins to cease. The intuition of
self-hood in those other selves that surround us, begins to grow. We must become
the brothers of our brothers as sunbeam is the brother of sunbeam. The great
inflexible commandment thunders forth as the voice of triumphant moral law; the
great inflexible commandment—that we shall love one another!
Then a the glowing fire of the Radiance, from being at first
no bigger than a fire-fly’s lamp, begins to grow, it lights up suddenly one of
life’s well-kept secrets. In burning up the illusion of separateness, so well
wrapped in Its glamour-garments of space and time, it shews the pure, so long
hidden, truth. The truth is, that there is no separateness; that all is one.
That the many selves are brothers because they are at heart the One Self; as the
sun-beams are brothers because they are all at heart the sun.
Then, as it is found that that old affinity of ours for the
ape and tiger, their sensuality and selfishness, were the necessary and
inevitable fruit of something rooted in the Real; the necessary and inevitable
fruit of our forward striving after real life; so it will be found that the
affinities of our middle life, the affinities with peacock and nightingale, were
not less the necessary and inevitable fruit of something rooted in the real;
that the pride of the peacock is nothing but the dim, thwarted exultation in
real being; the first checked and hindered partaking of that Bliss which is the
heart of things, the Bliss of the All; and the lovesickness of the nightingale
was but the hidden sense of essential oneness; that lovesickness of ours was but
the well-hid sense that we should never be separate; that we were essentially
one in reality—from the very beginning; however well that oneness was hidden by
the old sly glamours and disguises of space and time.
And as we were inflexibly and sincerely true, in the old
days, to our physical selves, entering with our whole hearts into our affinities
with the ape and the tiger, entering with our whole hearts into the selfishness
of the tiger and the sensuality of the ape; so, when through the Waters we have
found the Radiance,—when above emotional life we have found the real life, the
life of the soul and oneness, we must be inflexibly true to that. As we entered
in entire earnestness and seriousness, with our whole hearts into the peacock’s
pride, the nightingale’s desolation, with hopes and fears, desires and hates
altogether genuine and unfeigned; we must now with equal sincerity, enter into
the life of the soul, the life of oneness; choosing the better rather than the
dearer, and passing by dear and dearly loved desires. We must come under that
imperious commandment of the intuition —that we shall love one another; but in
pure sincerity of oneness, and not with shamefaced sentimentality of
half-concealed desires.
Otherwise, as falling back from the real, tiger re-becomes
tiger, ape re-becomes ape, peacock re-becomes peacock, nightingale re-becomes
nightingale; so will man, falling back from the real, re-become all of these.
Desolation and pride and selfishness and sensuality will weld
themselves together; and, becoming untruth, wrapping ourselves in untruth,
upholding untruth, we shall fall once more into the wide-spread net.
But at last, becoming true to the higher world, as we have
been true to the middle world, and the lower world, we shall reach the threshold
of that lost wisdom; we shall learn that this Spirit is the Self of all that is,
this is the Real, this the Self; and, last of all, we shall learn that this Self
we are, that this Self is the real Self of us each and all.
Then will become intelligible the trilogy of the world; the
drama of the lower life, the drama of the middle life, the drama of the higher
life; of the Earth, the Waters, the Radiance. Then it will be known that the
dramatist of it all was no other than that Self which is the real Self of all of
us. That our very Self was the ‘inventor of the game’, who ordained all things
wisely through endless years.
Thus, in the quaintest symbols and parables, was taught to Shvetaketu, Aruna’s
grandson, the struggle of the Higher Self and its victory over the middle nature
and the lower self; and its victory by which the true life of man begins.
When the true life of man has been lived,—that life by which
man rises above the darkness, above sorrow and separation and longing, to
perfect unity in the light, and at last to perfected unity with the light,—when
this true life has been lived, man at last becomes one with the Eternal,
recognizes his immemorial oneness with the Eternal, which is the Self of all
that is; and the own nature of this Self is perfect Being, perfect
Consciousness, perfect Bliss.
No. 19.—SEPTEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE MAHOMEDAN TRADITION OF
ISSA OR IESUS. pgs. 75-79
From the Persian of Mirkboud, 1432-1498 A.D.
HIS Lordship Issa had a woolen
fillet on his head, and wore a garment of the same material on his body. He
carried a staff in his hand, and was constantly travelling; he was in the habit
of spending the night in any place where it happened to overtake him. His canopy
was the darkness of the night, his bed the earth, and his cushion a stone. Some
allege that his lordship consumed earth instead of bread, nor was he ever liable
to joy or grief at obtaining or losing anything in the world. He ate oat-bread,
travelled on foot, and was not fond of smelling fragrant odors. He took no care
about procuring dinner or supper, and wherever he ate bread he placed it on the
ground, was contented with but little of it, and said This is much for me, who
must die.
One of his apostles requested him to procure a beast for the
purpose of relieving himself from the trouble of walking, but he replied: I have
not the price required. They then purchased an animal for him, which he bestrode
during the day, but when the night approached, his noble mind became
apprehensive about the food and water necessary for it; therefore he returned
the quadruped to them, saying: I stand not in need of a thing that attracts my
heart to itself.
One day they made another request to him, and said: Oh
Prophet of God, permit us to build a house for thee! He replied:
What shall I do with a house that will fall to ruins if my life is long, and
will become the property of another if it be short? But as his companions
insisted and expostulated with him on this subject, he went with them to the
seashore, and said: Can you build a house on these stormy waves? They replied:
No edifice can stand on waves, or even be built. He said: Such is the relation
of this world to the next !
There is a tradition that one day he was walking in the road
with three persons, who suddenly perceived two ingots of gold and desired to
take possession of them. Issa—on whom blessing—however, demurred, saying: Be
aware that these two ingots will become the occasion of the destruction of all
three of you! When Issa had departed, one of the said three men went to the
bazaar to purchase food; his two remaining companions, however, resolved to kill
him on his return, so that they might equally divide the ingots and each obtain
one. The man who brought the food had mixed poison therewith in order to become
the sole possessor of the treasure after the death of his associates, but they
slew him as soon as he had arrived; after that they ate the poisoned food, and
likewise departed to the next world. When Issa returned he looked at those three
victims of predestination, and said: It is thus that the world deals with those
who are addicted to it!
One of the miracles of this spirit of God was, that he shaped
a piece of loam into the figure of a bird, breathed into it, and it flew; this
bird is called a bat. When the Jews beheld this miracle they exclaimed: this is
evident sorcery! Another of his miracles was, that he cured the blind and
lepers.
And another miracle was, that he brought the dead to life, as
the Most High has said: And I will raise the dead by the permission of God. It
is related that the first person brought to life by the felicity of his blessed
breathings was the son of an old woman. The event took place as follows. While
he was travelling he perceived on a certain occasion an aged woman sitting on a
grave. He spoke to her, and she told him that this was the tomb of her son, near
which she would remain till her death, or till her son come alive again. Issa
said: Wilt thou leave this place if thy son comes alive again? She said: Yes !
Then his lordship fell on his knees and prayed; after that he went to the tomb,
and exclaimed: Oh arise immediately by the command of God! That very moment the
grave opened, and a man came forth from it, who, shaking the dust from his head,
said: Oh Spirit of God, what was thy reason for calling me? Issa informed him of
his mother’s wish, but the son of the old woman besought Issa to allow him to
return to his resting-place, and so make the agonies of death easy to him. His
request was complied with. The son of the old woman returned to the grave which
closed itself over him as before. But the obdurate Jews, when they heard of this
event, said: We have not heard of greater sorcery than this!
Historians have reported that in the time of Issa—on whom blessing—there was a
king in the country of Nassibin who was very arrogant and tyrannical. Issa
having been sent on a mission to him, started towards Nassibin. When he arrived
in the vicinity he halted and said to his apostles: Which of you will enter the
city and say: Issa who is a servant of God, his messenger and his word, is
coming to you! One of them whose name was Yakub exclaimed: I will go, oh Spirit
of God! The Lord Issa said: Go, although thou art the first who wilt separate
thyself from me. After that another believer in the one God, Tuman by name,
asked permission to accompany Yakub. Issa allowed him to do so, but said: O
Tuman! thou art destined soon to be afflicted. Then Shimaun said: Oh Spirit of
God, if thou wilt permit, I will be the third of them, on condition that, in
case of trouble, when I invoke thy aid, thou wilt not withhold it. After he had
also obtained leave, the three men departed. Shimaun tarried outside the city,
saying to his companions: Enter ye, and do what Issa bath ordered you. If any
misfortune befal you, I shall try to remedy it.
Before they arrived at Nassibin the foes of religion had
spread evil reports about Issa and about his mother, so that when Tuman and
Yakub entered the city, and the latter raised the shout: Verily now Issa the
Spirit of God, and his word, his servant and his message, has come to you !—the
people turned towards him and asked: Which of you two is the speaker of these
words? Yakub disavowed these words and denied having uttered them, but Tuman
said: I have spoken these words! The people then accused him of falsehood, and
uttered unbecoming sentiments with regard to Issa and his mother Mariam. They
led Tuman to the king, who ordered him to revoke these words on pain of death.
Tuman refused to comply, whereon the tyrant commanded his hands and feet to ‘be
cut off, his eyes to be pierced with an awl, and his body to be thrown upon a
dunghill. When Shimaun had heard what took place, he entered the city, waited
upon the king, and said: I hope the benignity of your majesty will grant me
permission to ask a few questions from a man who has been punished. The king
having assented, Shimaun went to the dunghill, and asked Tuman: What are thy
words? He replied: I say that Issa is the Spirit of God, his servant and his
messenger. Shimaun continued: What are thy arguments in favor of the truth of
these words? Tuman replied : He heals those that are blind from birth, lepers,
and all kinds of diseases Shimaun continued: Physicians do these things
likewise, and are participators in such acts. What other sign does he possess?
Tuman said: He knows what people eat in their houses, and what they put aside.
Shimaun rejoined: Soothsayers do this; is there any other sign in him? Tuman
said: He makes a bird of clay, breathes into it, and it begins to fly. Shimaun
said: This looks like sorcery ; what other argument has he in favor of
his claim? He replied : By the permission of God, he can raise the dead to life
again!
Shimaun then made report to the king, saying: This
culprit speaks of great things performed by Issa; and which can originate only
from the omnipotent and absolute Sovereign, or from his prophet. Every act of
his messenger depends on the permission of the Lord of lords; nor would the
eternally livng One allow a sorcerer to work such miracles. If Issa be not a
prophet of God, he cannot revive a dead body. Therefore it will be best to call
Issa, and to try whether he can do all that this man asserts; but if Issa
refuses to comply, thou rnayest chastise the man whom he has sent with any
additional punishment thou mayest deem fit. If on the other hand Issa
resuscitates a dead man, we shall be obliged to believe in him, because the
raising of the dead will be a convincing argument and an invincible proof of his
being a true prophet and a messenger.
The king approved of what Shimaun had said, and ordered Issa
the Spirit of God to be produced. Issa—on whom blessing
—came, and by his advent the assembly received new lustre and freshness. The
king then ordered Shimaun to converse and dispute with Issa, to whom Shimaun
accordingly said, in the presence of the king: This thy envoy, who has incurred
the wrath of our king, bears testimony that thou art a messenger of God! Issa
replied: He speaks the truth! Shimaun continued: He imagines that thou art able
to heal those who art blind from birth, and lepers, as well as thou curest sick
persons! Issa replied: His statement is in conformity with facts! Shimaun
rejoined: It has been decided that if thou canst not perform that which Tuman
pretended concerning thee, we shall kill thee and thy companions. Issa said:
Yes! Shimauti asked: Then begin with thy companion!
Issa thereupon placed the hands and feet of Tuman, which had
been cut off, upon their stumps, and drew his own hands over them, whereon, by
the power of God, Tuman became whole as before. Then he rubbed his blessed hands
upon the eyes of Tuman, and he began to see.
Shimaun exclaimed: Oh king, this is a sign of the signs of
his being a prophet! Then Shimaun begged Issa—on whom blessing—to reveal what
those present in the assembly had been eating last night, and what they had put
aside. The Messiah — on whom blessing—then addressed each man separately, and
told him what he had eaten the last evening, and what he had laid aside.
Shimaun again said: Thy envoy imagines that thou makest of clay the similitude
of a bird, and after breathing into it, thou causest it to fly; and the king
wishes to behold this strange event! Issa asked: The figure of what bird is
wanted? They said: The bat, because it is a strange bird! Accordingly he
fashioned it, breathed on it, and it flew.
This tradition is taken from Rehatsek’s edition of
Mirkhoud’s Rawzatus-Safa, a cycle of legends or traditions from the days of the
genii and Adam to the founding of the Mussulman power.
(To be continued.)
No. 20.—NOVEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE MAHOMEDAN TRADITION OF
ISSA OR JESUS.
pgs. 88-96
From the Persian of Mirkhond, I432-1498
A.D.
IT
is related after Solmân the Persian that, when all the sick of Nassibin had been
healed, the people requested Issa to resuscitate a dead man. His lordship said:
“Whatever deceased person you may point out I shall recall him to life by the
permission of the Living Immortal One”..
They said: “Sam, the son of Nuh, is our ancestor; his corpse
is not far from this place, if thou consentest to resuscitate it by thy sublime
breathings”. Issa agreed, and the people conducted him to a tomb where the
Spirit of Allah [i.e., Jesus] fell on his knees raising his hands in
supplication.
After he had terminated his devotions, he called out to Sam,
by the command of the Creator of heaven and earth, whereon the soil moved and
opened, when a man with a gray head and beard issued from the tomb, and said: “I
obey, O Spirit of Allah “.
Then he harangued those present as follows:
“O people, this is Issa, the son of the blessed virgin Mariam,
the spirit of Allah, and His word which he is preaching. You must believe in his
prophetic dignity and follow him “.
Issa asked Sam:
“In your time the hair, of men never became gray; how is this
[that yours is so]?
He replied:
“When I heard thy voice, I thought that the resurrection was at hand, and I was
so awed that my hair turned gray”.
Issa again asked:
“How many years is it since thou art dead?” Sam replied:
“Four thousand years”.
Issa continued: “I shall pray that Allah—whose name be
extolled—may allow thee to live for some time “.
Sam [however] replied: “Since it will, after all, be
necessary to taste the unpleasant beverage of death, I wish not for this
miserable life, and I still remember my agonies of death. I beseech thee to
implore the Almighty—Whose name be extolled —to receive me into the propinquity
of His mercy”. Issa then prayed, Sam returned to his former condition, and the
particles of earth again united [and covered him].
Solmân the Persian narrated that, when the King of Nassibin
and his people had witnessed this miracle, he with his army,
followers and subjects believed in Issa.
One of the strange events and wonderful prodigies of Issa—
upon whom be peace—was the appearance and descent of the table which took place
as follows:
The apostles who were always with Issa, happened on a certain
occasion to be hungry, with a great multitude of people, when they were
travelling. All the people asked Issa to beseech the Almighty Creator to send
down from heaven a table full of victuals; the apostles however rejected this
proposal, but the people urged them to acquaint Issa with their wish, wherefore
the Messiah was informed of their request.
He whose name be glorified has said:
“The apostles said: O Issa, son of Mariam, is thy Lord able
to cause a table to descend to us from heaven? He answered: “Fear Allah if ye be
true believers”.
The apostles replied in the words of the people: “We deny not
the power of Allah, but we wish to eat of that table, to comfort our thoughts
and so increase our faith in thy words, so that we may be convinced, that thou
art, indeed the messenger of Allah and that thy words are true. After having
eaten of the table we we shall all be compelled to acknowledge the unity and
omnipotence of Allah, as well as the truth of thy prophecy and messengership “.
Some have, with reference to the words “that we may be
witnesses thereof”, asserted that they imply a pledge of the people to bear
testimony in his favor, on their return to the children of Esrâïl.
After they had repeatedly proffered their request, Issa—upon
whom be peace—humbly supplicated saying: “O Allah our Lord cause a table to
descend to us from heaven, that [the day of its descent] may become a festival
unto us, unto the first of us, and unto the last of us as a sign from Thee; and
also to provide food for us, for Thou art the best provider “.
When Issa had finished his prayers, the revelation descended:
I have granted thy request and have sent a table, but whoever
shall, after having seen it, become ungrateful, shall be chastised by Me, as no
one of the inhabitants of the world has been punished ere this”. By the words
“inhabitants of the world”, the people of that age are meant. Issa informed the
people of this revelation and they said: “Whoever is ungrateful is worthy of
punishment ”.
This
command was deemed very unjust by the rich, and some of them said: “This is not
the table of God”, whilst others also suspected that it had not descended from
heaven.
On that occasion the following divine allocution reached Issa:
“On account of the promise that I have made I shall
punish the doubters and the ungrateful “. It is recorded according to one
tradition that after Issa had informed them of the imminent chastisement, four
hundred individuals arose one morning from their beds, changed into hogs. They
then began to pick up offal from dunghills, came to Issa, laid their heads on
the ground, wept tears of repentance on Issa, who called everyone by his name
saying:
“Thou art such and such a one “, which words they confirmed
by affirmatively nodding their heads; but after the expiration of three nights
and days they gave up their ghosts in the most opprobrious manner.
When the Jews accused his prophetic lordship of falsehood and
expelled him from the city, Issa departed with Mariam, and arrived in one of the
villages of Syria, where they alighted at the house of one of the nobles of that
country, who treated them with respect and kindness, requesting them to take up
their abode with him.
One day the gentleman of the house happened to return home
full of sadness and grief. He informed Mariam that his distress originated from
the fact of the King’s desire—who was an oppressor, and accustomed to pay a
visit to one of his subjects every evening and to carouse in his house—of
spending the night in his abode, and that be had neither the wealth nor power
required for entertaining the King’ with his retinue and servants.
Mariam, who sympathized with the landlord, requested Issa to
remedy this difficulty; Issa, however, replied: “This is connected with a great
trial”. Mariam replied: “This man has great claim to our protection; there is no
need to be apprehensive of any trial”. The Messiah then complied with his
mother’s request, ordered the vessels and pots to be filled with water before
the banquet, and supplicated the Omnipotent Creator, whereon the vessels became
all filled with meat, and the pots with generous red wine, whilst the table was
full of bread.
After eating, the King quaffed a bumper, and found that he
had tasted delicious wine, the like of which he had never drunk before. He
therefore asked his host where he had obtained it, whereon the latter named a
certain village; but the King assured him that this wine could not be compared
with that of the same place and advised him to tell the truth.
Then the landlord mentioned another
town, which so incensed the King that the poor man’s life was in danger. He then
confessed that in his vicinity there was a youth who had no father, and that
anything that he asked from the Almighty Creator was granted, and that all these
victuals, together with the wine, had been produced from the invisible world.
The King immediately called for Issa, and wanted him to pray
that his son and successor to the throne who had lately died might be
resuscitated to life. Issa replied: “If the prince returns to life, thy royalty
will be endangered “. The King rejoined: “After seeing him, I shall dread no
misfortune “. Issa continued: “I shall resuscitate the prince to life on the
condition that no one shall be allowed to expel me from this country”. The King
assented, whereon Issa prayed, resusciated the prince to life, and after
performing this miracle departed to another place.
When the son of the king was again alive, the people said:
“The oppression of this tyrant has reduced us to extremities;
we hoped however that we should be relieved by his death, but now there is no
doubt that the son will after the demise of his father renew his opprobrious
habits. The remedy therefore is to kill both the father and the son, so as at
once to get rid of their violence and tyranny”.
They all agreed, and executed their design by drawing the
sword of opposition from its scabbard, and exterminating both
of them.
After Issa and Mariam had left the said village, they met a
Jew who possessed two loaves of bread, while they had only one. Issa said to the
Jew, “Let us have all our provisions in common”. The Jew assented, but when he
perceived that Issa had only one loaf, he repented of his promise, and during
the night secretly disposed of the other loaf.
In the morning Issa told his companion to produce his food,
but he shewed oily one loaf, whereon Issa asked: “Where is the
other?”
But be replied: “I had no other loaf except this one “. The
Messiah said nothing more, but after they had traveled awhile, they reached a
spot where a man was pasturing sheep, and he accosted him with the words: “Owner
of the sheep! show me hospitality “.
The shepherd agreed and said: “Tell thy companion to pick out
a sheep and to kill it Issa then ordered the Jew to kill and roast a sheep, but
added:
“We must eat it but preserve its bones”. After they had
finished the repast Issa collected all the unbroken bones, put them into the
hide, struck the latter with his staff, saying: “Arise by the command of Allah
“. The sheep then immediately became alive and Issa said to the shepherd: “Take
thy sheep”.
The man asked in astonishment: “Who art thou?”
He replied: “I am Issa, the son of Mariam”.
The shepherd rejoined: “Thou art a sorcerer about whom we
have heard”.
After thus insulting him he ran away from Issa, who, when he
had performed this miracle, asked the Jew: “Thou hast had two loaves, what hast
thou done with the other?”
The Jew, however, swore that he had never more than one loaf.
Issa again became silent and they departed also from that place.
Whilst they were journeying they happened to meet a fellow who had several kine.
Issa took a calf from him which they slaughtered, roasted, and consumed, whereon
the spirit of Allah again resuscitated the calf, as he had done before [to the
sheep], and surrendered it to its owner. After that he asked the Jew for the
missing loaf, but received the same answer as before. Then they again traveled
by common consent, until they separated.
The King of the said town was reposing on the couch of
sickness, and his physicians having been unable to cure him, he punished them.
When the Jew heard of this matter, he procured a cane resembling the staff of
Issa and went to the palace with the intention of imitating him.
He said to the courtiers: “I shall heal your patient, and if
he be dead, I shall resuscitate him”.
They accordingly led him to the bed of the King whose feet he
repeatedly struck with his staff, and said: ‘Arise by the command of Allah”, but
it was of no use.
When his inability to revive the King became evident, the
courtiers accused him of having slain their master, and suspended him upside
down from a gibbet.
When Issa heard of what had happened he went to the place of
execution, where he saw the Jew with a rope round his neck, and the people
wanting to drop him from the head to the foot of the gallows.
Issa said: “If you desire the King to be recalled to life,
leave my friend alone “.
They replied: “This is our wish, and when the King is again
alive we shall let go thy friend “.
Issa then prayed to the Lord of
Magnificence, resuscitated the King, and delivered the Jew from his scrape.
They departed together, and the Jew having escaped death,
said to Issa: “By saving me from death thou hast so highly obliged me, that I
swear by Allah never to leave thy service”.
The Messiah — upon whom be peace— replied: “I adjure thee by
the true God who has resuscitated the sheep and the calf, after we had roasted
and eaten them; by that God who resuscitated the King after he had died, and who
has granted thee life after having been on the gallows; tell me how many loaves
thou hadst in thy possession when beginning to accompany me?” The Jew again
swore an oath that he never had more than one loaf. Issa then again placed the
seal of taciturnity upon his mouth, and they continued the journey together.
They happened to see a place where a wild beast had, whilst
digging about, found a treasure, of which no one had become cognizant till that
day.
The Jew asked Issa: “Leaving this treasure untouched, where
are we going?”
Issa replied: “Cease these words, for this is the decree of
fate, that several persons must perish on account of this treasure”.
The Jew having no means of resistance, went in obedience to,
and with, the spirit of Allah. After they had departed four men arrived near the
treasure, two of whom then went to the city to purchase food and drink, as well
as to procure the utensils necessary for the removal of the treasure. The two
remaining men had conspired with each other to slay those who had gone, because
they wanted to take possession of their shares also. Those, however, who had
departed, harbored the same murderous intentions, and mixed a lethal poison with
the food. Then they returned and were killed by the swords of their remaining
two companions, who in their turn died when they had eaten the poisoned food.
Thus all these four individuals pitched their tents in the plain of
annihilation. Time addressed the Jew in the language of the circumstances as
follows:
The companions are gone; have reached the term.
In the sleep of deceit art thou still plunged, careless
heart?
After Issa had been informed by Divine revelation he said to
to the Jew: “Come, let us go to see the treasure”.
The greedy fellow having made the necessary preparations for
taking possession of and removing the property, departed with the spirit of
Allah [i.e., Jesus).
When they reached the spot they beheld the four dead
companions, whereon the Lord Issa divided the treasure into three parts, one of
which he gave to the Jew and retained the other two for himself The Jew then
said: “O spirit of Allah, thou must be just in making the distribution and must
divide the property into two parts, one of which will belong to me and the other
to thee”.
Issa rejoined: “One share belongs to me, the second to thee,
and the third to the owner of the lost loaf”.
The Jew asked: “If I point out to thee the owner of the lost
loaf, wilt thou surrender to him his portion?”
Issa replied: “Yes”.
The Jew continued: “I am the owner of it”.
The spirit of Allah said: “Then take possession of the whole
treasure, because thy share [of happiness] consists therein in this world and in
the next “.
That ill-fated individual then took the worldly goods, but
when he had traveled a short distance the earth opened, and swallowed him with
all he possessed. Let us take refuge with Allah from [the temptations of ] this
world!
One of the wonderful prodigies of Issa was, that when his
lordship was one day passing with his companions through a field, which was
almost ripe for the harvest, his friends were hungry and asked permission to eat
some of the grain. The revelation having descended to Issa to allow them to do
so, they began to eat, but the owner of the harvest suddenly arrived, shouting:
“I have inherited this field from my ancestors, by whose permission are you now
eating thereof? The Lord Issa was displeased with this interference, and prayed
that all might be resuscitated who had ever been owners of the said field.
This actually took place and on nearly every stalk a man or
woman arose, exclaiming: “By whose permission do you commit ravages on my
property?”
The owner of the field was confused and asked: “Who produced
this miracle?”
They replied: “Issa, the son of Mariam”.
Then he approached Issa with excuses, saying: “O spirit of
Allah, I knew thee not; now, however, I am cognizant who thou art, and allow thy
companions to eat of my harvest”.
Issa—upon whom be peace—replied: “In reality this field does
not belong to thee, because these people possessed it before thee, and have left
it against their will. What happened to them will soon come to pass with thee
also “.
It is related that one day Issa had placed a stone under his head, and Satan approached
his cushion, saying: “Thou thinkst thou art attached to nothing in this world,
but this stone also belongs to the world”.
Issa then arose and threw the stone towards Satan,
exclaiming: “This belongs to thee with the world, and, by my life, the world and
its inhabitants belong to thee!”
— I am the slave of him who beneath this azure sky
— Is free from everything that may claim attachment.
Hasan Bossri—mercy be on him— has related that the apostles
of Issa said: “O servant of Allah! thou walkest on the surface of the water, and
we are unable to do so; what is the reason?”
Issa replied: [I walk thus] “by certainty in Allah “—whose
name be extolled.
They continued : “We are likewise of those who have obtained
certainty”.
The spirit of Allah asked: “If you perceive a stone and a
jewel on the ground which of them will you pick up?”
They replied: “We would take the jewel”.
His lordship continued: “Then you are not of those who have
attained certainty “.
Hasan Bossri also says that Issa received his mission in his
thirteenth year, and that he was taken up to heaven in his thirty-third. Others
allege that he had been sent in the seventeenth, and others in his
twenty-seventh year.
According to some traditions all the inhabitants of paradise
are thirty-three years old, and these words were for a long time difficult to be
understood by the author of these pages; but whilst writing it occurred to him
that possibly the above years imply maturity of intellect, because the denizens
of paradise will forever remain in the same condition, and will never become
subject either to decrepitude or to old age.
In the Maarif Hassibi it is related that Issa—upon whom
blessing—ascended to heaven in his forty-second year, and that
the Gospel was sent down to him in the twelfth year of his age, in the town of
Nâssra [Nazareth], in a province of the Ardan [Jordan], and that for this reason
he is called Nâssâri; Allah, however, is most wise.
This Tradition is taken from Rehatsek’s edition of Mirkhond‘s
Rawzatus-Safa, a cycle of legends or traditions from the days of the genii and
Adam to the founding of the Mussulman power.
No. 20.—NOVEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
THE SELF.
p.81
FROM SHANKARA’S TATTVA BODHA.
WHAT is the Self?
—The Self stands above the three vestures, the coarse, the fine, and the causal;
is beyond the five veils, and is witness of the past, the present and the
future.
What then is this Self?
—Its own nature is Being, Consciousness, Bliss.
What is Being?
—What stands throughout past, present, and future.
What is Consciousness?
—The essence of knowing.
What is Bliss?
—The essence of. all happiness.
Therefore let a man know that the own-nature of his Self is Being, Consciousness,
Bliss.
No. 20.—NOVEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
BY WHOM?
p. 82
KENA UPANISHAD.
BY whom commanded does the mind go forth? By whom compelled does the first life
go forth? By whom commanded do they put forth creative voice? What bright one
rules the eye, the ear?
It is the ear of the ear, the mind of the mind, the voice of the voice, the life
of the life, the eye of the eye. The wise man set free, rising above this lower
world, becomes immortal.
The eye goes not thither, nor voice, nor mind; we know not, we understand not,
how any can apprehend it. It is other than the known. It is other than the
unknown.
Thus have we heard from those of old who taught us.
That which is not spoken by voice, but that by which voice is spoken; know that
as the Eternal, not the god they worship here.
That which is not thought by mind, but that by which mind is thought; that know
as the Eternal, not the god they worship here.
That which is not beheld by the eye, but that by which the eye is beheld, that
know as the Eternal, not the god they worship here.
That which is not heard by hearing, but that by which hearing is heard; that
know as the Eternal, not the god they worship here.
That which does not live by life, but that by which life lives, that know as the
Eternal, not the god they worship here.
If thou thinkest ‘I know it well’, thou knowest but little; knowest thou that
form of the Eternal? Is that form to be known among the bright ones?
Yet I think it is known to thee.
I think not that I know it well, nor do I know that I know it not. He among us
who knows: ‘I know not that I know it not’; he indeed knows.
By whom it is unthought, by him verily it is thought. It is unknown of the
knowing, and known of the unknowing.
It is thought to be known by awakening; and thus a man attains immortality. By
the Self he obtains valor,; by knowing he obtains immortality.
If a man knows this here, this is the real; if he knows it not here, there
follows the great tribulation.
Having discerned this among all creatures, the wise, leaving this world, become
immortal.
The Eternal won victory for the bright ones; in the victory of the Eternal, the
bright ones magnified themselves, and declared:
‘This is our victory; this is our might!’
The Eternal knew this, and became manifest to them. But they could not discern
what power it was.
They spoke to Fire: ‘Thou knower, discern for us what this power is’, said they.
‘Be it so!’ said he.
He ran to it. It addressed him, saying, ‘Who art thou?’
‘I am Fire’, said he; ‘I am the knower’.
‘Then what valor is in thee?’
‘I could burn up the whole world’, said he; ‘whatever there is on earth’.
Then the Eternal laid down a grass before him; saying ‘burn this!’ And Fire came
up to it with all his might, but was not able to burn it. Therefore he turned
back again; ‘I could not discern what power this is’, said he.
So they addressed Breath; ‘Oh Breath! discern what power this is’, said they.
‘Be it so!’ said he.
He ran to it. It addressed him, saying, Who art thou?’
‘I am Breath’, said he; ‘I am he who sleeps in the Mother’.
Then what valor is in thee?’
‘I could take up the whole world’, said he, ‘whatever there is on earth’.
Then the Eternal laid down a grass before him; saying, ‘Take up this’. And
Breath came up to it with all his might, but was not able to take it up.
Therefore he turned back again; ‘I could not discern what power this is’, said
he.
So they addressed the Sky-lord; ‘Mighty One, discern what power this is’, said
they.
‘Be it so’, said he.
He ran to it, but it vanished from before him.
But there, in shining ether, he met a woman. resplendent, golden-colored Wisdom;
he addressed her: ‘What power is this?’ said he.
And she replied: ‘This is the Eternal; and in the victory of the Eternal, you have magnified yourselves’. And
thus he knew that it was the Eternal.
Therefore these bright ones are above the other bright ones, as it were, — Fire,
Breath, and the Sky-lord, because they touched the Eternal most nearly. And as
he first knew that it was the Eternal, the Sky-lord is above the other bright
ones ; for he touched it most nearly, and he first knew that it was the
Eternal.
And this is the teaching that gleamed forth as from the lightning, and
flashed forth, as it were. This is the teaching as to the bright ones. Then as
to the Self. This it is that the mind approaches, and the imagination remembers
it again and again. This verily is the adorable; and by the name of adorable it
is to be worshipped.
Thou hast said ‘Declare to me the hidden wisdom!’ That hidden wisdom is declared
to thee; we have declared to thee the hidden wisdom of the Eternal. For this
wisdom exist fervor, dominance, and works; all wisdoms with their members are
its resting-place; and the real is its lasting home.
He who has learned this hidden wisdom, putting away all darkness, he enters and
dwells in the endless heaven, the world that is the prize of victory.
No. 20.—NOVEMBER, 1894.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY,
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT.
THIRD YEAR.
A QUESTION, A RIDDLE, AND A FABLE.
pgs.85-86
THIS ‘book of hidden wisdom’ contains three things: a question, a riddle, and a
fable; and after these an epilogue. First, the question. By whom commanded do
mind, life, voice, eye, and ear go forth into being? In this question there are
exactly the same elements as in the story of Life and the lives. ‘I’ said Life,
‘dividing myself fivefold, support this ray, establishing it.’
He who sends forth the five lives, the five outward powers, is Life, the Real,
the Higher Self.
This Self, the one knower, Consciousness, is the eye of the eye, the ear of the
ear.
This Self, the One Being and Bliss, the real Will, is the voice of voice, the
life of life.
The eye goes not thither, nor voice, nor mind, because this Self is the reality
under mind and voice and eye; and mind and voice and eye are but the transient
forms taken by the Self, in the glamor of the world.
How then can the forms of glamor reach and know the reality that stands behind
them?
It is other than the known, it is other than the unknown. It is other than the
known, because it is the Knower; because Consciousness is other than the object
of Consciousness. It is other than the unknown, again because it is the Knower;
because Consciousness is other than things not objects of Consciousness.
As it is the Self, the Real, the Eternal, the Will, it is not spoken by voice;
but through its reality is all voice and all speaking possible. Know that this
divine Self of all beings is the Eternal; not the god they worship here, the
prince of this world, the baser self.
As it is the Self, Consciousness, the essence of all knowing; it is not known
by mind, but through its reality mind knows. Mind is the veil through which the
divine Self shines. Know this Self as the enduring; not the god they worship
here.
As this Self is the Knower, the Seer, it is not beheld by the eye, but through
its power the eye beholds; this is the being invisible, that looks out through
the visible windows. Know this Seer to be the Eternal; and not the god they
worship here.
As the Self again is the Knower, it is not known by hearing, but through its
power, hearing springs into being. When the Self is withdrawn, the ear hears no more forever. Know this divine Self
whose heart is Bliss as the Eternal; not the god they worship here.
And as this Self is eternal Life, it lives not by life; but through it life
lives. Know this Life to be the Eternal, not the baser life they worship here.
Thus the question and its answer.
Then comes the riddle; and its answer is the same. The Self is eternal Being;
eternal Life. It is also eternal Will, the essence of all happiness. And,
thirdly, it is eternal Consciousness, the Knower.
If, therefore, thou thinkest ‘I know the Knower’, thou knowest but little, for
the subject of all knowledge cannot be the object of any knowledge. The enduring
‘I am I’ cannot be outwardly known; for it is the inmost Self, the Knower in all
knowing.
Yet, in a sense, it is known to thee; for thou art that Self, thyself; and
therefore it is ever present with thee. I think not that I know it well; for I
am that Self, the Knower; and yet myself is an eternal mystery to me.
This Self I can never know. Is the case then hopeless and without help? No! for
though I cannot know that Self, I can be that Self; have, indeed, been that Self
from the eternities. And that eternal identity with the heart of all joy I shall
know by awakening; by the awakening to the Self.
For him who knows it here, it is well; he who knows it not, fails into the long
tribulation of unknowledge; of a fancied apart-ness from the heart of all joy.
But having discerned this in all creatures, as the Self of all that is, the wise
man leaves the world of fancied apartness; he wins the heart of all joy; the
immortal. Thus the riddle and its solution.
Then follows the parable of the Eternal and the powers. And to make this parable
transparent and lucid, we need only remember the teaching of another ‘book of
hidden wisdom’, the teaching of the four steps of the Self.
The lowest and outermost self is the self that stands in the coarse vesture, the
vesture of waking. And this self is called Fire, common to all men.
The next, and midmost of the three unenduring selves, is the self that stands in
the finer vesture, the vesture of dreaming. And this self is called the Radiant,
the self of mind and emotion.
The highest of the three unlasting selves is the self that stands in the causal
vesture, the vesture of union and will. And this self is called the intuitional,
the wise.
And above these three unenduririg selves is the Self that endures, the
vestureless, unveiled Eternal.
And of this enduring Self, this heart of joy, the three selves are the modes,
the passing moods, the phantasmal children. But they cannot know their oneness
with the Self, and so enter the heart of joy, until Wisdom, the gold-colored,
the resplendent, rises up within them, and brings awakening and freedom for
evermore.
In the fable of golden Wisdom that reveals the Eternal, the three bright ones
have each two names; a name for each of the unenduring selves and a name for
their vestures.
Fire is the outermost of the three unlasting selves, the vital fire of physical
life; and its vesture is the knower, the garment of sense.
Breath is the midmost of the three unlasting selves; it is the Radiant, the
emotional; and its vesture is the mother, the love and loving of all the worlds.
The Sky lord, king of the azure sphere of heaven that arches over the earth, is
the highest of the three unlasting selves. Its vesture is the causal vesture,
the mighty.
And the causal vesture is woven of the ineffable, beginning-less illusion of
apartness from the Eternal; and when this illusion fades before the awakening of
Wisdom, the golden, the resplendent, then the immemorial oneness with the
Eternal is once more known.
And this awakening Wisdom gleams forth as from the lightning,
and flashes forth. And he who has learned this hidden wisdom, putting away all
darkness, enters and dwells in the endless heaven, the world that is the prize
of victory.
No. 21.—JANUARY, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
NEW YEAR’S GREETING! p.97
A
HEARTY New Year’s greeting to all lovers of the East, whence come the
sunrises of the renewing years.
In this New Year we shall try once again to catch the light of renewing life
that shines in the Books of Hidden Wisdom; and shines yet more in the humblest
heart of man.
If our work and study of the past year have not been vain,—and no honest work is ever vain,—we shall have grasped more than one clue to
these old records that so potently awaken the old luminous memories of the
heart; and this work of the past shall be only preparation and premonition of
still better, healthier, and more vigorous work in the days to come. Thus, New
Year’s Greeting!
BY THE MASTER.
pgs.98-99
Isha Upanishad.
BY the Master is to be covered all, whatever moving thing there is in
the world. By this renouncing thou shalt enjoy; nor grudge to any man his
wealth.
Even fulfilling all works here, let him will to live a hundred years. Thus for
thee and not otherwise is it, nor do works stain the real man.
Sunless verily are those worlds, in blind darkness wrapped. Them they come to on
going forth, whatsoever people withstand the Self.
Striving not, that One goes swifter than mind. This the bright ones reached not;
it went before them. This, standing still, outstrips the others running. In this
the Great Breath fixes the waters.
This moves; this moves sot. This is afar; this is near at hand. This is within
all that is; this is without all that is.
And he who, verily, beholds all beings in the Self, and beholds the Self in all
beings, thereafter blames none any more.
In whom the Self has become all beings through wisdom,— what delusion, what
grief is there, for him beholding oneness only?
He circled round the bright, bodiless, unscarred, substance-less, the pure,
stainless formed. This wise Seer, the circling lord, the self-being, ordained
according to fitness through the ages.
They go forth into blind darkness who follow after unwisdom; they go, as it
were, into greater darkness, who find their delight in wisdom.
One thing, they say, comes through wisdom; Another thing, they say, comes
through unwisdom. Thus have we heard from the seers, who revealed this unto us.
He, verily, who has understood wisdom and unwisdom both,— through unwisdom
crossing over death, through wisdom reaches the immortal.
One thing, they say, comes through the living; Another thing, they say, comes
through the lifeless. Thus have we heard from the seers, who revealed this unto
us.
He, verily, who has
understood the living and destruction
both,—through destruction crossing over death, through the
living reaches the immortal.
By a shining veil the face of the Real is hidden; do thou,
Sun,
uplift it, for the beholding of the Real’s law.
Sun, only Seer, Compellor, Light, Son of the Lord of beings,
marshal thy rays and gather them together.
That Radiance of thine, that fairest form,—I behold; it is thy
Spirit, and that am I.
This breath of mine rises to the Fire; and to the Immortal
this perishable body.
O Sacrifice remember,—what thou hast done remember!
O Sacrifice remember,—what thou hast done remember!
O Fire, lead us by the good path to the Treasure; thou bright one, who knowest
all holy shrines. War mightily against our master sin, that to thee we may offer
our highest voice, bowing before thee.
No. 21.—JANUARY, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
THE GREAT ENLIGHTENING.
pgs. 100-107
THIS section of the Books of Hidden Wisdom, beginning with the words: “By the
Master “,—is the only Upanishad written in verse. And what magnificent verse it is, in the original; full of deep
rolling music, and fire. Such sonorous melody as no translator could hope to
recover, in any modern version.
Only from the original can one realize the splendor and majesty of this mighty
hymn; and, reading it again and again, one gains the conviction that it is the
hymn of some grand ceremony of the Great Enlightening, in the strong days of
old, in the heart of some long-vanished race.
For this is another feeling that grows on one, after long study of the
Upanishads: that they do not rightfully belong to the cycle of Indian thought
which begins with the Vedic hymns, and passes through Manu’s laws to the ornate
and overburdened imagery of the Puranas.
In the Upanishads, the whole tone of life and thought, of intuition and
aspiration, is quite other than that of the Veda and Purana cycle; even though
the Upanishads are now reckoned among the Vedas. And, in the Upanishads
themselves, very outspoken contrasts are not lacking between their own way of
wisdom and the ritual way of works.
The prayers of the Vedic hymns are for “sons and grandsons of a hundred years”,
for “cattle and horses and golden wealth”;
it is true, indeed, that a second meaning has been given to these prayers, in
accordance with the wiser ideals of the Upanishads; but it is far from certain
that this deeper meaning ever rightfully belonged to the Vedic hymns.
But the deeper meaning of the Upanishads,—the true wisdom of the Self, the ideal
of the divinity of life,—is by no means doubtful or to be doubted. The whole
tenor and purpose of the Upanishads is the bringing of the Great Enlightening,
by the clear discernment that the individual Self is but an aspect, a ray, of the
Self everlasting; that the self and the Self are, and were ever, one.
In one remarkable particular the discrepancy between the Vedic hymns and the
Upanishads may be pointed out. It seems certain, though this has been more than
once contested that nowhere in the hymns of the Rig Veda is the doctrine of
perfection through the cycle of birth and rebirth, and again birth and
rebirth, clearly and unmistakably taught. But, in the Upanishads, this knowledge
of birth and rebirth is quite clearly and unmistakably taught, again and again;
and a valuable study may be written on this, with passages taken from everyone
of the great Upanishads.
The doctrine of “what befalls a man, on going forth “, of the life or the lives
after death, in the hymns of the Rig Veda, seems to be this. He who “goes
forth” is lifted to paradise by his good works,—by due performance, that is, of
the ritual and sacrifices of the gods, and his dwelling in the heavens is
dependent on a like due performance of ritual and sacrifice on the part of his
Sons and grandsons, so that he who had no son to offer sacrifice for him at the
yearly festival of the dead, fared but meanly in the heaven-world.
And after this somewhat precarious paradise, wherein a man’s well-being depended
not on himself nor on the excellence of the law, but rather on the favors of a
whole world of gods,—favors to be won by the regular rites of his grandchildren
to the ninth generation—there is nothing, as we have said, in the Vedic hymns,
to show clearly and beyond contradiction, that the man came again to a new
rebirth, on the ever advancing path of perfectness.
In this matter of rites and sacrifices lay hidden a great danger; a danger to
which, it is to be feared, the people of India did in some sort succumb. For,
where there are rites, there must be the arch-ritualist,----the priest; and
where there are sacrifices, there must be those “who eat of the leavings of the
sacrifices”, and thereby are put to temptation to make the sacrifices ever
richer and more frequent; so that, though the gods receive much, much may still
remain for their servants.
Therefore it may perhaps be a heightened and almost exaggerated way of stating
what is nevertheless in the direction of the truth, to say that the popular
doctrine of India—the doctrine of the Vedic hymns, of Manu, of the Puranas—came
more and more to be the doctrine of the exaltation of the ritualist, till he who
was a Brahman by birth only, and not by enlightenment, was declared a little
higher than the gods, while for his well-being and good pleasure all other
beings, including his less favored fellow-mortals, came merely into dependent
and subservient life.
If the doctrine of the popular Indian cycle was this—the exaltation of the
Brahmans, through their intercession with the gods,—then the hidden doctrine,
the doctrine of the Upanishads, was, and is, the doctrine of the exaltation of
man universal, by the Great Enlightening;
by the radiance of the shining Self, that wraps us into the divinity of life.
These are but a few of the reasons, in their entirety almost absolutely
conclusive, that the Upanishads did not originally belong to the popular Indian
cycle in which they now find a place, but are rather a heritage, a rich
heirloom, from another age, another race, perhaps another language. It may be a
rash speculation, but there is much in the Upanishads to make us think that they
were not originally composed in Sanskrit, but have been translated from another
and an older tongue. To this conclusion, many reasons point; not least among
them the quality of the Sanskrit of the Upanishads. And one main characteristic
of this quality is the quaint admixture in the Upanishads of verse and prose;
as though the pen or tongue of the translator had at times but a halting command
over his material; as though at times the divine breath failed him, and he sunk
helpless into unmetrical prose, the music and melody of the great original
proving too strong and grand for his partial powers.
Then there are passages, standing now altogether in prose,— as for instance the
last sections of the famous teaching to Shvetaketu—which maintain the strictest
character of strophe and antistrophe, albeit in prose, with a chorus falling
regularly though no longer metrically, at the end of every passage.
There are other indications: queer, rough sentences; uncouth words and phrases;
licences of metre, and faulty verse; all pointing in the same direction, and
leading us to think that we are reading, not an original, but a translated work.
Be this as it may, the Upanishad beginning: “By the Master” is, even in its
present state, altogether faultless in form; and, as we have said, a magnificent
piece of verse, a mighty hymn full of music and fire; equal to, or greater than,
the splendid hymn to Life, taught by the Vedic Master, in the Upanishad of the
Questions.
The suggestion has been borne in upon us, after much study, and we have repeated
it here, that this Upanishad “By the Master” is the hymn of some grand mystery
of the Great Enlightening.
And what we have studied of the Upanishads during the last year will have been
studied to little purpose, if some insight has not been gained into what the
Great Enlightening is.
This ideal of the Great Enlightening, as every other ideal of the Books of
Hidden Wisdom, is best to be understood, perhaps, by keeping clearly before us
the idea of the three manifest worlds, the three lives, the
three selves, the three fires—for all these names are used again and again;
three worlds manifest, and the fourth, ineffable, hidden, encompassing all.
We have already written of the three worlds: the habitual world, the mirror
world, the real world; of the three selves: the physical self, the emotional
self, the intuitional self; of the three lives: the beast life, the man life,
the god life. But in the Upanishad “By the Master” the figure oftenest used is
the splendid and graphic figure of the three fires; the three flames.
In one sense the lowest and outermost of the three flames is the lurid, ruddy
flame of passion and desire; the expression of the lower emotional world of lust
and hate; the expression of the beast life, not in its primitive innocence but
mirrored in self-conscious sensuality.
This ruddy flame is baser than the flame of vital life, that warms and glows, “of
the color of the household fire”; baser than it and yet in advance of it,
because of later development The warm glow of the “household fire” of vital
life, is the expression of the natural, uncorrupt animal, physical self; the
fire that warms the outward, habitual life of the body.
Then above these two is the flame of the divine fire, the luminous, the shining,
of the color of the sun at noontide; a fair go1den light that rises up within
the heart, and shall in due time lighten every man that comes into the world.
Each of these three flames has its fitting vesture of contrasted nature; and all
the three are modes—each entirely right and holy in its due time and season—modes of the unchanging Light of the
Eternal, the everlasting Shining.
If you wish to understand the teaching of these “books of hidden wisdom “,
identify clearly these three flames; or rather, the three modes of nature
they represent. For the three flames are but a simile, a picture, a visible
representation; a mythical presentment of an actual truth.
There is first the “household fire”, the flame of vital life; the sane and
vigorous energy of the body, expressed by an old simile made new again, in the
words “a glow of health “. This fine glowing energy would, if it were not
impeded mould every form in such keen perfection as to make of every man an
Apollo; of every woman a goddess.
But this healthy flow is impeded by the disturbing outbursts and conflagrations
of the ruddy flame of lust and hate; like the scarred lightning tearing the
black clouds to pieces, and hurling the terrors of storm across the bewildered
sky of night. Yet in
time the red lightning
flashes of passion wear themselves out by their very vehemence. The black clouds
become thinner and and gradually translucent; and at last in the faint east,
comes the first pale glimmer of dawn. The clouds part a little, and let through
the first promise of dawn. Again and again the clouds may close together,
leaving not light but merely the faint remembrance of light; but at last will
come the sunrise, and then the perfect noon-day; the great Shining in the clear
blue sky; and there, they say, The sun rises, and yet sets not; but rests
perpetually in mid-heaven, marshalling its rays, and sending forth its perfect
light. This is the mystery; a sunrise, but no sunset to follow, for ever and
ever.
This is the Great Enlightening; foreshadowed by the first faint gleam in the
heart, so pale as to be hardly a shadow of the coming light. This faint gleam of
dawn comes with the first act of selfless generosity; of high, self forgetting
valor; of love that seeks not its own. It is, as a wise man said, “the god-like
voice that stops me even in very little things, if I am about to do anything not
rightly”.
Then begins the real, strong epic of life, after the sad tragedies of passion,
the hurtling terrors of the lurid fire. The real life begins with the first
faint dawn of that inward life, that gleams across the darkness of the heart;
who will venture to tell of its continuance, in the world “at the back of the
heaven”, the world the seers tell of?
In this hymn of the Great Enlightening, there is a faint fore shadowing of that
grand reality, which will one day make the heart of every man to sing with
gladness. The faint dim light within is to grow brighter and brighter, till,
spreading outward from the hidden place of the heart, it enwraps the whole
world, and there is nothing but the light everlasting. Thus the master-light must grow, until it covers all things, whatever restless thing there is in
the world. And for the life of the self is gradually substituted the life of the
Self; by this renouncing thou shalt enjoy, and come into thy kingdom.
Thus, we may imagine, when a man comes to the threshold of the Great
Enlightening, he is greeted by the elder brothers; those who have already
“passed over to the other side”. They greet the newcomer, the younger brother,
and admonish him, that he should fulfill all works here, toiling unwearyingly
even for a hundred ages. “Thus for thee, and not otherwise is it; nor do works
besmirch a man.”
Then the newcomer to the world of real life is pointed back,
back to the thunder-driven cloud-world he has left: “Sunless verily are those
worlds; in blind darkness wrapped. Them they come to, who withstand the Self.”
This Self is above and within all; the elder and younger brother alike; the
Master of the masters; the divine and everlasting One.
Stirring not, this Self goes swifter than mind; for this Self is the only
eternal and divine reality, everywhere throughout the wide Universe; and mind,
the later born, can go nowhere without finding the Self already there. Then
again, the very courses of mind are but a mode and energy ‘of that same Self,
that thus fulfils one part of its destiny, by the manifold activities of mind.
And again, this Self, as the pure intuition, the inner sense of the trueness of
things, has already, from ages back, reached all conclusions truly, not by
restless strivings, as of the mind, but by its own inherent all-wisdom.
This the bright ones, the powers of knowing and of acting, reached not; for they
are as its hands and eyes, and the hands and eyes cannot know the true inward
secrets, of the heart, to which, nevertheless, they give expression, as its
ministers.
Though standing, this outstrips the others running, and through this Self, in
the beginning of the coming forth of things, the Great Breath—the potent will
that things should come forth—spread forth the waters of shining space, the luminous fields where all that
was to be should come into being.
This moves, for there are all beings and all their lives; this moves not, for
within all is the eternal peace. This is afar, for beings have forgotten it to
their sorrow; and yet near at hand, for the divine life is ever ready to be
remembered.
This is within all that is, for all that is rests on the divine Self alone, on
the Eternal. Yet it is without all that is, for all lives apart from it, if
added together, would not even begin to make up the Self, the Eternal.
And he who verily beholds all beings—my other selves—in this Self,—my own divine
Self; and he who beholds the divine Self in the other selves, thereafter blames
none anymore; for his other selves will no man blame. And in whom his own divine
Self has become his other selves—what sorrow remains for him?
Thus, we may imagine, on passing over the threshold to real life, and joining
the company of “the dwellers on the other side “, the new-born enters into the
light, and learns of the Self that is peace. For he who is not born again shall
in no wise enter the Kingdom.
But the Self is not peace only, for besides rest there is restlessness. The
Self is not light and wisdom only; the Self is also power and will, the builder
of the worlds, and the circling ring of the birth and rebirth of lives.
This Self, the will, the causer, circled round bright, bodiless space, his own
first-born; and circling, this wise Seer ordained all lives rightly through the
ages, willing thus to teach eternal lessons to his own lesser selves. For it is
the divine Self in us that ordains our lives; there is no chance or accident
anywhere, but order and wisdom even for moats and feathers; all go by law and
not by luck. And it is this divine Self that brings our other selves together,
without hazard or chance at all, and what the highest has joined, wide earth
shall not hold asunder.
Then again, if the picture we have called up of this teaching of the Great
Enlightening be a true one, we may believe that the new-born to the real life is
made to look back once more to the clouds below. They go forth into blind
darkness—the words echo to him—they go forth into blind darkness who follow
after unwisdom, and choose the dearer rather than the better: the most sanative,
though the bitterest lesson in life. ‘Yet take courage, through this bitterest
lesson; for when the other selves come once more together in the sunlight, these
sorrows shall but give cause to the mirth of the celestials, as when one has
dreamed of desert exile, and wakes to find himself with the beloved.
They go, as it were, into greater darkness who follow after wisdom; for the
light of the wise is blank darkness to children,— that light “at the back of the
heavens,” dark only through excessive brightness.
One thing, they say, comes through unwisdom; for through unwisdom is the painful
learning, the weary path, sad separation and loneliness and sorrow. Another
thing, they say, comes through wisdom, for this is learning’s prize, the
triumphant goal, the lasting union, sorrow’s crown.
He who has understood unwisdom and wisdom, separation and union, sorrow and joy,
through unwisdom passing through death
—for what is death but separation ?—through wisdom reaches the immortal, the
lasting joy of union.
The real world is hidden by a shining veil; but the sunrise of our uniting
comes, the veil of shining mist is lifted, the warm
rays of union fill our hearts once more, and in that day it will be well with
us.
Then the last grand words of the drama of the Great Enlightening:
The life to Fire; the
wandered self back again to the great
heart of warmth; and the perishable body of sorrow once more
to the immortal union.
O Sacrifice remember; what thou hast done, remember.
O Sacrifice remember; what thou hast done, remember.
Remember the light, be faithful to the light; bring the light to the other
selves.
Of these last two lines, there is another rendering:
O Sacrifice remember; O works remember.
O Sacrifice remember; O works remember.
As far as the original shows, there is nothing to decide
positively between the two versions; in the latter, the sacrifice and the works
are more vividly personified and addressed; in the former, the words are addressed to the
new-born, who has passed from “death” as a living sacrifice. In reality the two
senses are identical, for the new-born is the sacrifice; the man is his works.
What difference is there, for him beholding oneness only?
No. 21.—JANUARY, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
SHANKARA’S CATECHISM. pgs. 108-112
INTRODUCTORY.
IN the “Awakening to the Self”, and, still more, in the “Crest I Jewel of Wisdom
“, Shankara the Teacher uses many words in a clear, precise, and consciously
exact sense, which is not always to be gathered from the context of these two
works. In the “Awakening to the Self”, this is hardly an impediment, as the
expression of this excellent poem is so perfect and universal; nor is there any
great impediment in the first part of the “Crest Jewel of Wisdom”, which has
been translated under the title “First Steps on the Path”. But further on in the
“Crest Jewel”, this is not the case. It becomes more strict and technical in
meaning; and without precise definitions, much is hardly intelligible. But in
the “Crest Jewel” itself these definitions are not always to be found. What is
to be done then, if we really want to understand the Teacher precisely?
Happily Shankara has left us a Key in his own work, the “Awakening to Reality”,
where nearly every special word of his philosophy is exactly defined. We have
only to try to find the best English translation of his definitions, and we
shall have a clear clue and outline to the larger work, the “Crest Jewel”, and,
indeed, to the whole of Shankara’s philosophy.
One thing must be remembered. This “Awakening to Reality” is what we have
called it—a catechism. And in a catechism we can hardly expect the perfect
poetical form and splendid imagery of works like the “Awakening to the Self “.
What we shall find, is lucidity, accuracy, grasp, coherence; but not poetical
beauty. Thus is begun:
No. 21.—JANUARY, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
THE AWAKENING TO REALITY.
Shankaracharya’s Tattva Bodha.
I.
TO the Master, the World-Soul, the Master of seekers for union, obeisance; to the teacher, the giver of wisdom. To fulfill love for those who would be free, this Awakening to Reality is addressed to them.
THE FOUR PERFECTIONS.
We shall tell of the way of discerning reality, the perfection of freedom,
for those who are fitted by possessing the Four Perfections.
What are the Four Perfections?
—The Discerning between
lasting and unlasting things; No Rage for enjoying the fruit of works, either
here or there; the Six Graces that follow Peace; and then the Longing to be
free.
What is the Discerning between lasting and unlasting things?
—The one lasting thing is the Eternal; all, apart from it, is unlasting.
What is No Rage?
— A lack of longing for enjoyments here and in the heaven-world.
What is possession of the Perfections that follow Peace? Peace; Self-Control;
Steadiness; Sturdiness; Confidence; Intentness.
What is Peace?
—A firm hold on emotion.
What is Self-Control?
— A firm hold on the lust of the eyes and the outward powers. What is
Steadiness?
—A following out of one’s own genius.
What is Sturdiness?
—A readiness to bear opposing forces, like cold and heat, pleasure and pain.
What is Confidence?
— Confidence is a reliance on the Voice of the Teacher and Final Wisdom.
What is Intentness?
One-pointedness of the imagination.
What is the Longing to be free?
—It is the longing: “That Freedom may be mine”.
THE DISCERNING OF REALITY.
These are the Four Perfections. Through these, men are fitted to discern
Reality.
What is the Discerning of Reality?
—It is this: the Self is real; other than it, all is fancy.
SELF, VESTURES, VEILS, MODES.
What is the Self?
—He who stands apart from the Physical, the Emotional, and the Causal Vestures;
who is beyond the five Veils; who is witness of the three Modes; whose own
nature is Being, Consciousness, Bliss—this is the Self.
THE THREE VESTURES.
What is the Physical Vesture?
—Being formed of the five creatures five-folded, born through works, it is the
house where opposing forces like pleasure and pain
are enjoyed; having these six accidents: it is, is born, grows, turns the
corner, declines, perishes; such is the Physical Vesture.
What is the Emotional Vesture?
— Being formed of the five creatures not five-folded, born through works, the
perfection of the enjoyment of opposing forces like pleasure and pain, existing
with its seventeen phases:
the five powers of knowing; the five powers of doing; the five lives; emotion,
one; the soul, one; this is the Emotional Vesture.
The five powers of knowing are: Hearing, Touch, Sight, Taste, Smell. Hearing’s
radiation is Space; Touch’s, Air; Sight’s, the Sun; Smell’s, the Twin
Physicians; these are the powers of knowing.
Hearing’s business is the seizing of sounds; Touch’s business, the seizing of
contacts; Sight’s business, the seizing of forms; Taste’s business, the seizing
of tastes; Smell’s business, the seizing of odors.
The five powers of doing are: Voice, Hands, Feet, Putting-forth, Generating.
Voice’s radiation is the Tongue of Flame; Hands’, the Master; Feet’s, the Pervader; Putting-forth’s, Death; Generating’s, the Lord of Beings; thus the
radiations of the powers of doing.
Voice’s business is speaking; Hands’ business is grasping things; Feet’s
business is going; Putting-forth’s business is removing waste; Generating’s
business is physical enjoying.
What is the Causal Vesture?
—Being formed through ineffable, beginningless unwisdom, it is the Substance and
Cause of the two Vestures; though unknowing as to its own nature, it is yet in
nature unerring; this is the Causal Vesture.
THE THREE MODES.
What are the Three Modes?
—The Modes of Waking, Dreaming, Dreamlessness.
What is the Mode Waking?
— It is where knowledge comes through Hearing and the other knowing powers, whose business is sound and the other perceptions; this is
the Waking Mode.
When attributing itself to the Physical Vesture, the Self is called the
Pervading.
Then what is the Mode, Dreaming?
—The world that presents itself in rest, generated by impressions of what has
been seen and heard in the Mode, Waking, is the Mode, Dreaming.
When attributing itself to the Emotional Vesture, the Self is called the Radiant.
What then is the Mode, Dreamlessness?
—The sense that I perceive outwardly nothing at all, that rest is joyfully
enjoyed by me, this is the Mode, Dreamlessness.
When attributing itself to the Causal Vesture, the Self is called the
Intuitional.
THE FIVE VEILS.
What are the Five Veils?
—The Food-formed; the Life-formed; the Emotion-formed; the Knowledge-formed; the
Bliss-formed.
What is the Food-formed?
—Coming into being through the essence of food, getting its growth through the
essence of food, in the food-formed world it is again dispersed, this is the
Food-formed Veil,—the Physical Vesture.
What is the Life-formed?
—The Forward-life and the four other Lives, Voice and the four other powers of
doing; these are the Life-formed.
What is the Emotion-formed Veil?
—Emotion, joining itself to the five powers of knowing,— this is the
Emotion-formed Veil.
What is the Knowledge-formed?
The Soul, joining itself to the five powers of knowing,—this is the
Knowledge-formed Veil.
What is the Bliss-formed?
—This verily is the Substance not quite pure because of the unwisdom that gives birth to the Causal Vesture; in it are founded all joys;
this is the Bliss-formed Veil.
Thus the Five Veils.
By saying: “Mine are the lives; mine is emotion; mine is the soul; mine is the
wisdom”; these are recognized as possessions. And just as a bracelet, a
necklace, a house and such things separated from one’s self, are recognized as
possessions, so the Five Veils and the Vestures, recognized as possessions, are
not the Self [the Possessor}.
What, then, is the Self?
— It is that whose own-nature is Being, Consciousness, Bliss.
What is Being?
—What stands through the Three Times [Present, Past, Future,]—this is Being.
What is Consciousness?
—The own-nature of Perceiving.
What is Bliss?
—The own-nature of Joy.
Thus let a man know that the own nature of his own Self is Being, Consciousness,
Bliss.
EXPLANATORY.
This “Awakening to Reality”, is a summary of an intuition of the world, a
solution of the universe. Only those who have certain mental and moral
endowments are ripe for the understanding of such a solution of the world.
Briefly, these endowments are:
wisdom and will. The solution reached is—the real Self of every man is the
Eternal. This Self is inwardly beginningless, endless, immortal. But outwardly
it becomes manifest as three lesser selves, each with its own vesture, its own
world.
Lowest of these is the physical self, the “Pervading”; with its physical
Vesture, in the Waking world.
Next, the emotional self, the “Radiant”, with its emotional Vesture, in the
Dreaming world.
Highest, the causal self, the “Intuitional”, with its causal Vesture, in the
Dreamless world. It has existence apart from the Eternal, owing only to the thin
veil of illusion, which hides the identity of the One with the All. Thus, as to
its own nature, it is unknowing; for, while believing itself One, it is really
All. But for all other things it is unerring, for its close proximity to, and
real oneness with, the Eternal, give it the inner sense of the trueness of
things that is all wisdom. This is “the Seer who ordained all fitly through the
ages”.
In the Physical Vesture adheres one Veil; in the Emotional Vesture three—the
vital, the emotional, the moral;—in the Causal, again one.
There is a great difficulty in finding a fit word for the term we have
translated “radiation”. What is meant is the power
—Personified, almost
personal—conceived to be the “regent” or “deity” of the field in which each mode
of perception and action finds its expansion. A closely analogous phrase would
be, for instance, “the Prince of the Powers of the Air”, who would thus be the
“regent” or “deity” of the powers of touch, and, in morals, the “lusts of the
flesh”.
This is, of course, mythology: a mythical representation of an actual truth,
very difficult to represent otherwise than in mythologically.
But in the conclusion of the matter there is no difficulty. It is, that a man
shall know the own nature of his own Self to be Being, Consciousness, Bliss; or,
in other words, Eternal, Wisdom, Love.
No. 22.—MARCH, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
THE HYMN OF THE SPIRIT.
p.113
Purusha Sukta Rig Veda, X,
90, 1-5.
THOUSAND-HEADED is
Spirit, thousand-eyed, thousand-footed; he wrapping the world altogether,
overpassed it by a space of ten fingers.
Spirit verily is all this, what has been and what shall be; also of immortality
he is the lord, when he passes outward through the food of being.
So great is his greatness, yet Spirit is more ancient than this. For all these
beings are but one step of him, three steps of him are eternal in the heavens.
As to the three steps, Spirit ascends upwards; one step, again, came into being
here; he then extended everywhere, over what consumes and what consumes not.
From him was born Radiance, and, from Radiance, Spirit; he, born, stretched
forth, behind the world and before.
No. 22.—MARCH, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
THE TWO WISDOMS.
pgs.114-116
Mundaka Upanishad
1.
THE Evolver first of the bright ones came into being, the maker of the whole, the
guardian of the world. He
taught the wisdom of the Eternal, the resting-place of all wisdom, to Atharva,
his eldest son. And what the Evolver had declared to him, this wisdom of the
Eternal Atharva of old told to Angira. He to Bharadvaja the truth-bearer; and
Bharadvaja taught it, in turn received, to Angiras.
Shaunaka, verily, of the great Lodge, approaching Angiras according to the law,
asked him:
— Master, what should be known that all this may be known?
To him he replied:
—Two knowledges should be known, said he—what the knowers of the Eternal
declare, the higher and the lower knowledge.
—Of these, the ower knowledge is: the Rig, the Yajur, the Sama, the Atharva
Vedas; intoning, rites, modulation, definition, verse, the star-lore.
— But the higher knowledge is that by which the Unchanging is gained: that
invisible, ungraspable, nameless, colorless, sightless, soundless; the enduring
Lord, the all-going, with neither
hand nor foot; the very subtile, the unfading, that the wise see
well as the womb of the worlds.
— As the web-wombed spider puts forth and draws to him; as—trees come forth upon the earth; as from a living man, his locks
and tresses; so from this Unchanging, comes forth all the world.
— This Eternal glows with fervent power; thence is born the
Food, and, from the Food, the Life and Mind; what exists—the
worlds—and eternal causation.
—Who is the all knowing, the all-wise, whose fervent power
is wisdom formed, this is that Eternal; and, from this, Name and
Form and Food are born.
—Therefore there is this truth:
The powers that the seers perceived in the sounds of the hymns, were divided,
each in their own form for the triple fire; “practice these constantly, ye who
desire the truth; this is your
path of good work in the world. For when the flame curls in the fuel that bears
what is to be offered, then let him guide the offerings in the space between the
two paths of the sacrificial fluid. With faith it is offered. He whose
fire-invocation fits not with the new moon, the full moon, the fourth month, and
the autumn, where there are no guests, where the offerings to all the bright
ones are absent, where the law is unfulfilled,—he injures his seven worlds. The
seven curling tongues of flame are: the dark, the gloomy, the mind-swift, the
very red, the purple, the sparkling, the all-shaped bright one. He who makes the
offerings when these flames are gleaming, at the fit time, like sun-rays They
lead him to where the one lord of the bright ones reigns.”
“Come! Come!” the offerings call to him; they carry the sacrificer by the rays
of a shining sun. Addressing to him a loving voice, they honor him: “This is
your holy, well-won world of the Eternal!”
—Infirm rafts indeed are these forms of rites of the eighteen sharers in the
sacrifice, on which the lower ritual depends. They who exult in this as the
better way, fools, they go again to sickness and death. Turning round in the
midst of unwisdom, sages, thinking themselves wise; fools, they go about
staggering in the way, like the blind led by the blind.
—Turning about manifold in unwisdom, you exult, children, thinking thus the work
is done. Because these performers of ritual are not wise in their longing desire,
in their folly they fall, losing their worlds.
— Thinking that oblations and offerings are the best, they know nothing better,
these deluded fools. After enjoying this good work of theirs beyond the sky,
they return to this or a lower world.
— But they who dwell in faith and fervor in this forest, full of peace, and
wise, and free from the lust of possession; by the sun- door they, freed from
lust, go forth, where is the immortal spirit, the unfading Self.
—Therefore let him who seeks the Eternal, viewing well the worlds that are won
by rites, become indifferent to them, for the Uncreate cannot be gained by
ritual works. And to learn this Uncreate let him draw near to the Teacher—the
Sage, well founded on the Eternal—with fuel in his hands. To him approaching,
with his wandering soul quite at rest, and entering into peace, the Wise One
will declare truly the truth by which that Unchanging is known, the wisdom of
the Eternal.
—And there is this truth:
As from a
well-lit fire sparks of its own nature come forth thousand-fold; so, dear, from
that Unchanging, manifold beings are born, and thither they go again. For this
shining, formless Spirit is within and without them, though unborn. This bright
Spirit of the Unchanging, above Life and Mind, is the Supreme of the Supreme.
—From this are born Life and Mind and all the powers—ether, breath, the starry,
the waters, earth the holder of all.
— He whose head is Fire; whose eyes, the sun and moon; whose ears are the
fields of space; whose voice, the manifest Vedas; whose life is breath, whose
heart is the whole world; from whose feet is the earth; this is the inner Self
of all beings. From him the Fire whose fuel is the sun; from the moon, the
powers of fertility, the trees upon the earth. The active force sows the seed in
the passive; from this active power many beings are engendered.
— From this the Rig, the Sama, the Yajur verses; initiatory rites, sacrifices,
offerings, and gifts; the circling seasons and the sacrificer, and the worlds
where the sun and the moon have their power. From this the manifold bright ones
are engendered, the lesser bright ones and men and beasts and birds. From this
the forward and downward lives, from this, rye and barley; from this, fervor and
faith and truth, the service of the Eternal, and the law.
—The seven lives come forth from this, the seven flames, the seven fuels, the
seven sacrifices; these seven worlds wherein the seven lives move; they are
hidden in the secret place by sevens and sevens. Hence the oceans and all the
hills, from this the rivers flow, in all their forms. Hence come all growths,
and the essence through which the inner Self stands in all beings.
—For Spirit alone is this all, and the works and fervor.
He who knows this Eternal hid in secret, he, dear, even in
this world unties the knot of unwisdom.
No. 22.—MARCH, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
HIGHER AND LOWER KNOWLEDGE.
p. 116-120
In the Mundaka Upanishad.
THIS Book of Hidden Wisdom strongly emphasizes the view
already put forward, that the great theme and substance of the Upanishads is in
no sense a development of the great Vedic
cycle,—the fountain of popular religion in India from the days of
the
Seers of the Hymns;
but that, on the contrary, the substance of the Upanishads is distinct in origin,
different in aim, and often very hostile in tone to the great popular cycle of
Indian culture.
In the days when this Book of Wisdom took final form, the great cycle of Indian
culture included, we are told: the Rig, Yajur, Sama and Atharva Vedas, and the
six Limbs of the Veda, as they are called: the sciences and studies that
deal with the intoning, the grammar, the verse, the rites of the Vedic
liturgy, the definition of old and difficult words, and the fixing of times and
seasons—the new moon, the full moon, the four-month period—by noting the ways of
the sun and moon, the planets and
the stars.
This liturgy and ritual is the lower knowledge but the higher knowledge, the true
wisdom, is the seeking and finding of the real inner Self, the enduring Lord,
that the wise see as the womb of the worlds.
Very little is conveyed to our imaginations by this description of the lower
knowledge, as liturgy and ritual, as the four Vedas and the six limbs of the
Vedas. But the second section gives us something clearer and more intelligible.
Its essential part, we are told is a system of ceremonies, sacrifices, and
oblations
that centers round the “three sacrificial fires”: the household fire, kept burning during the householder’s life, and from which the other fires
are lit; the fire of oblations to the shades of the fathers; and the fire of
sacrifices to all the deities.
By the ritual of the three fires, they hoped to gain the good things of this
life—sons and grandsons of a hundred years, gold and chariots and horses; then
the happiness of ancestors who had passed away, joined to the hope that their
own trans-sepulchral welfare would be duly looked after—filial piety with a
lively sense of favors to come; then the favor of the deities, who, fitly fed by
their worshippers, should grant to the devout the feasts of this world and the
next. Such was the ideal of this ritual system—the way of works—a happy blending of
worldliness and otherworldliness; a not unnatural desire to secure the largest
share of sensuous enjoyment that a careful keeping of the rules of both worlds
could afford.
These ideals are “not too good for human nature’s daily food”; so entirely
natural are they that at once they recommended themselves to the devout, and
formed the foundation of a religion that lasted milleniums.
Very much depends on the nice performance of these rites, in the opinion of their
votaries; for the gods are rather exacting and punctilious; and grave responsibility rests on the sixteen priests who,
with the sacrificer and his wife, complete the “eighteen sharers in the
sacrifice”.
It is easy to understand that, when the well-being of one’s ancestors, one’s
self and family, and one’s descendants depended on the exact performance of these
experiments in transcendental physics, one was likely to look for the most
competent demonstrator, and to reward him very liberally when the experiment was
finished and the period of strained anxiety at an end. It is easy, too, to
understand that much deliberation might go on among the skilled professors, in
leisure hours, on questions of “donations of one cow, up to the bestowing of the
whole property, after the sacrifice,
to the attending priests, as the Commentator says. One can see at once the
fitness of a phrase like this: “These are lean kine, they have eaten their
grass, drunk their water, given their milk, and lost their strength; joyless
worlds he gains, who offers these”.
So by gentle, imperceptible steps the “sacrificer and his wife” would be
enthralled, until the whole outward culture of the nation was summed up in the
words: “Blessed are they who partake of the leavings of the sacrifice”.
It is easy to treat this making the best of both worlds very leniently, with
good humored complaisance and light irony; but the true Seers of the Upanishads
did not treat it leniently.
Infirm rafts are these rites of the eighteen sharers of the sacrifice. They who
exult in this as the better way, fools, go again to sickness and death.
Turning round in unwisdom, these sages, thinking themselves wise—fools, they
stagger in the way, like the blind led by the blind.
Turning about in unwisdom, you exult, children, thinking that thus life’s work
is done. Because these men of
rites are full of longing desire, in their folly they fall, losing their worlds.
Thinking that oblations and gifts are best, they see not the better way, these
deluded fools.
This is not quite the language of easy toleration; and, if we look closer, we
shall find another reason for this denunciation besides simple hostility towards
the enthrallers of the people.
For there is a second meaning hardly hidden here and elsewhere clearly revealed,
in this rite of the three sacrificial fires. For “the lower-life is the
household fire, the distributing-life is the fire of oblations, the forward-life is the fire of offerings”. In other
words, they are “the fire of the loins, the fire of the heart, the fire of the
head”; three centers of vital fire or nervous force. This becomes, then, fairly
clear; “when the flame curls in the fuel that bears what is to be offered, then
let him guide the offerings in the space between the two parts of the
sacrificial fluid “. From this offering—from the diversion of vital force which
it implies—arise “the seven tongues of flame”, and these, the Commentator tells
us, kindle the powers of “the seven orifices in the head”; or, more plainly,
awaken the psychic senses of sight and bearing and speech.
In fact, the Commentator clearly shows—and the Upanishads completely prove—this
sacrificial ritual is a symbol of certain processes for awakening the psychic
senses and powers by calling up the diverted vitality of the “downward-life”,
the fire of creative force. In the words of another Teacher, this is not the
wisdom that comes from above ; this wisdom comes from below, is
earthly, sensual, devilish. Or to translate more truly, this wisdom is earthly,
psychic, and of the nature of demons.
But let us turn from the rites of the three fires to the better wisdom, the
wisdom of the Eternal. This is the worship of the dim star that burns within,
the star that grows, as you watch and worship, and gradually becomes the
infinite Light. This is the wisdom of those who dwell in faith and fervent will,
in this forest of the world. They are full of peace and wise and free from the
lust of possession. They go forth by the sun-door, freed from the lust of
sensuous life, to the real life of the immortal spirit, the unfading Self.
Therefore let him who seeks the Eternal, viewing well the worlds that are won by
these rites, become indifferent to them. Let him draw near to the true Teacher,
the star that burns within; when he approaches, with wandering soul quite at
rest, and entering into peace, the wise one, the inner Self, will declare truly
the truth by which the Unchanging is known, the true wisdom of the Eternal.
The sun-door to the Eternal is the inner sense of the trueness of things that
tests the sensuous life, the feasts of this world and the next, and declares
that the lasting joy is not to be won by these changing things that fade. The
sun-door is the wisdom that chooses the better rather than the dearer, and
turns back from dear and dearly-loved desires.
This intuition and inner sense of the trueness of things gradually leads the
scattered selves away from the sensuous paths of habitual
life; gradually leads them away from the fear and hate that spring from the lust
of possession; gradually leads them away from the vanity and selfishness that
spring from their illusion of apartness and hostility one to another; and wraps
them back into the real world, the oneness of the Self.
Thus awakened from the dream of life, they see the steps by which they fell to
dreaming the dream of the world. They see that, as the web-wombed spider puts
forth his web, and draws it toward him again; as trees come forth on the bosom
of the earth; as sparks from a well-lit fire; so all this dream of the outward
world, this world of dream, came forth from the Self, the Eternal, that the
seers plainly perceive as the womb of the worlds. For this shining Spirit,
though unborn, is without and within all the worlds, and the worlds are the
changing dream-lessons of the unchanging Self.
The Self, though unchanging, falls into dream; it dreams itself first
into many separate hostile selves; then it dreams for their satisfaction the
manifold sensuous life of the middle and the outer worlds; then, that the
hostile selves my not fall into perpetual fascination and enthralment, the Self
dreams the last and sanative dream of death; and, through the power of that last
dream, the wandered selves find no lasting joy in their sensuous ways, for they
see that all this fades and wastes and wanes; that there is no lasting unchanging
joy but the Self—rebecome one—awaking from all dreams to the reality of its immemorial Oneness. This is the
wisdom of the Self that the seers tell of; and the dim star within lights the
old, oft-trodden path, along which they pass over to the other shore.
Following this wisdom, therefore, they found themselves in lasting opposition to
the other way, the way of works; in its outer aspect of ritual, a mercenary huckstering
with the gods; in its inner aspen, an opening, of new senses to another sensuous
world, far more alluring, far more seductive than the world of day. These are
false lights; not only do they not dispel the darkness, but they blind dazzled
eyes, and rob them of the infinite Light.
No. 22.—MARCH, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
THE AWAKENING
TO REALITY.
pgs. 121-124
Shankara’s Tattva Bodba.
II.
WE shall speak now of the way the four-and-twenty natures are developed.
THE PRIMITIVE SEVEN.
Dwelling together with the Evolver in glamor, who is the very self of the three
potencies: substance, force, and space.
From this glamor, shining ether came forth.
From shining ether, breath came forth.
From breath, fire came forth.
From fire, the waters came forth.
From the waters, earth came forth.
THEIR SUBSTANTIAL PARTS.
Now, among these five natures:
From the substantial part of shining ether, the power of hearing come forth.
From the substantial part of breath, the power of touch came forth.
From the substantial part of fire, the power of seeing came forth.
From the substantial part of the waters, the power of taste came forth.
From the substantial part of earth, the power of smelling came forth.
From the united substantial parts of these five natures, the inner powers,—mind, soul, self-assertion, imagination,—came forth.
Mind is the very self of intending and doubting.
Soul is the very self of affirmation.
Self-assertion is the very self of attributing selfhood.
Imagination is the very self of image-making.
The regent of mind is the Moon.
The regent of soul is the Evolver.
The regent of self-assertion is the Transformer.
The regent of imagination is the Pervader.
THEIR FORCEFUL PARTS.
Now, among these five natures:
From the
forceful part of shining ether, the power of voice came forth.
From the forceful part of breath, the power of handling came forth.
From the forceful part of fire, the power of moving came forth.
From the forceful part of the waters, the power of engendering came forth.
From the forceful part of earth, the power of extruding came forth.
From the united forceful parts of these natures, the five lives,—the upward-life, the forward-life, the uniting-life, the distributing-life,
the downward-life,—came forth.
THEIR SPATIAL PARTS.
Of these five natures, from their spatial parts, the five-folded five
elements come forth.
What is this five-folding?
It is this: taking the spatial parts of the five primitive natures,—one part of each,—these parts are each first divided in two; then one half of
each part is left alone, on one side, while the other halves of each are each
divided into four. Then to the half of each nature, is joined the fourth of the
half [the eighth] of each of the other natures. And thus five-folding is made.
From these five primitive natures, thus five-folded, the physical vesture is
formed. Hence the essential unity between the clod and the Evolving Egg.
THE LIFE AND THE LORD.
There is an image of the Eternal, which attributes itself to the vestures,
and is called the Life. And this Life, through the power of Nature, regards the
Lord as separate from itself.
When wearing the disguise of Unwisdom, the Self is called the Life.
When wearing the disguise of Glamor, the Self is called the Lord.
Thus, through the difference of their disguises, there is an appearance of
difference between the Life and the Lord. And as long as this appearance of
difference continues, so long will the revolving world of birth and death
continue. For this reason the idea of the difference between the Life and the
Lord is not to be admitted.
But how can the idea of unity between the self-assertive, little-knowing Life,
and the selfless, all knowing Lord, be accepted,
according to
the famous words, That thou art; since the genius of
these two, the Life and the Lord, is so opposite?
This is not really so; for ‘Life attributing itself to the physical
and emotional vestures’ is only the verbal meaning of thou;
while the real meaning of thou is ‘pure Consciousness, bare of all
disguises, in dreamless life’.
And so ‘the Lord full of omniscience and power’ is but the
verbal meaning of that; while the real meaning of that is ‘pure
Consciousness stripped of disguises’.
Thus there is no contradiction in the unity of the Life and the
Lord, since both are pure Consciousness.
THE FREE-IN-LIFE.
And thus all beings in whom the idea of the eternal has been
developed, through the words of wisdom and the true Teacher,
are Free-in-life.
Who is Free-in-life?
Just as there is the firm belief that ‘I am the body’, ‘I am a
man’, ‘I am a priest’, ‘I am a serf’, so he who possesses the firm
conviction that ‘I am neither priest nor serf nor man, but stain-less Being, Consciousness, Bliss, the Shining, the inner Master,
Shining Wisdom’, and knows this by dire perception, he is
Free-in-life.
THE THREE MODES OF DEEDS.
Thus by the direct knowledge that ‘I am the Eternal’, he is
freed from all the bonds of his deeds.
How many modes of these ‘deeds’ are there? If counted as ‘deeds
to come’, ‘deeds accumulated’, and ‘deeds entered on’,
there are three modes.
The pure and impure deeds that are done by the body of the
wise, after wisdom is won, are called ‘deeds to come’.
And what of ‘deeds accumulated’? The deeds that are waiting
to be done, sprung from seeds sown in endless myriads of
births, are ‘deeds accumulated’.
And what are ‘deeds entered on’? The deeds that give joy
and sorrow here in the world, in this vesture, are ‘deeds entered
on’. Through experiencing them they reach cessation; for the
using-up of deeds entered on comes through experiencing them.
And ‘deeds accumulated’ reach cessation through wisdom, the
very self of certainty that ‘I am the Eternal’. ‘Deeds to come’
also reach cessation through wisdom. For, as water is not bound
to the lotus-leaf, so ‘deeds to come’ are not bound to the wise.
For those who praise and love and honor the wise, to them come the pure
‘deeds to come’ of the wise. And those who blame and hate and attack the wise,
to them come all the unspeakable deeds, whose very self is impurity, of the wise
man’s ‘deeds to come’.
THE END.
Then the Knower of the Self, crossing over the circling world, even here
enjoys the bliss of the Eternal. As the sacred books say: The Knower of the Self crosses over sorrow.
And the sacred traditions say: Whether he leave his mortal form in Benares or in
a dog-keeper’s hut, if he has gained wisdom, he is free, his limitations laid
aside.
Thus the Awakening to Reality is completed.
No. 22.—MARCH, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
SHANKARA’S CATECHISM.
pgs.124-126
EXPLANATORY.
IN the first part of Shankara’s Catechism,
previously translated, the most
valuable thing is the teaching of the sevenfold man,
who is really a modified unity appearing in seven modes. The only real and
eternal element in the sevenfold man—for real and eternal are, for Shankara,
synonymous terms—is the perfect Self, which is one with the Eternal. In
manifestation this Self appears in three degrees: the intuitional self, the
emotional self, the physical self; and, for each of these there is a vesture
suited to its nature. Thus the divine Self, with its three degrees, and their three vestures, make up the perfect seven.
The three lesser degrees of the Self are its representatives in the three
manifest worlds: the spiritual world, the middle world, the physical world. And,
very naturally, the middle world partakes in some degree of the nature of the
other two; so that its highest layer is touched with the nature of the spiritual
world, while its lowest layer is touched with the nature of the physical world.
This threefold nature of the middle world finds its counterpart in the three
veils which make up the vesture of the middle self, which we have called the
emotional self as, perhaps, the best description of its total nature.
The three veils of the middle self are the vital veil, the sensuous veil, and
the intellectual veil; and the regents of the last two are ‘mind’ and ‘soul’, as
we have translated the original terms—Manas and Buddhi.
Development
takes place, therefore, by the gradually raising of the self through these
vestures and veils; so that, having begun as the physical self in pure animal
life, it gradually becomes the emotional and intellectual self of human life,
then the intuitional self of life that is something more than human, and at last
realizes itself as the eternal Self which is one with the Eternal.
To this, the first part of the Catechism, is then added the outline of
Shankara’s Idealistic physics, the doctrine of the three potencies of substance,
force, space; or, as one might call it, from a different point of view, the
three modes of subject, predicate, object: of the knower, the knowing, the known.
And as perception is of five types, the subject, predicate, and object are
divided into the five types of sensuous perception. But as the objects of
sensuous perception are not simple, but each respond to several different
sensations, a description is found for this fact in the ‘process of five-folding’
of the object. As an example, a piece of camphor responds not only to the sense
of sight but to other senses, touch, taste, smell; it is therefore conceived as
made up of the five natures that are objects of sensuous perception, so mingled
that one nature is dominant. The three potencies and the five natures are the
three vestures and the five veils, from another point of view.
Very important are the definitions: ‘mind’ is the power of intending and
doubting; ‘soul’ is the power of affirmation; the latter approaching the
intuitional self which is the ‘enlightened spiritual will’. To express in terms
of morals this psychological analysis, we may say that, at first, through the
power of self-assertion, the idea of selfhood is falsely attributed to the
physical body and its animal nature, and then to the mental picture of the
physical body, which is the emotional self or lower personality. The task of
regeneration, of initiating true life, consists in first checking this false
self-assertion,—selfishness and sensuality,—and then through the stages of
‘intending and doubting’ and strong ‘affirmation’ substituting for the lower
personality the enlightened spiritual will, which is the direct expression of
the real Self, re-becoming the Eternal.
Then this chapter of physics and psychology is followed by one of metaphysics.
There is the real Self, which is the Eternal. But we do not realize our life as
that real Self. Why do we not realize it? Because of two errors, or illusions,
which make up the double ‘heresy of separateness’. The first error is the error
of our apartness from the Eternal. The second error is the error of our
apartness from each other. The removal of these two errors constitutes ‘our duty
towards God’ and ‘our duty towards our neighbor’; in both cases the real gain is
our own, is the gain of our real Self.
Shankara calls the first error glamor; the second, unwisdom. The picture of the
self formed through the first is the Lord; the picture of the self formed through
the second is the Life. And the real nature of both is the same—pure
consciousness,—though there is a verbal difference, a difference of definition,
between them.
Then, in conclusion, the three forms of ‘deeds’ or Karma. We may compare
‘accumulated deeds’ to capital; ‘deeds entered on’, to interest; and ‘deeds to
come’, to the earnings of an unselfish man for the good of others. And we must
remember that each of these has a debit as well as a credit side.
The real value of this little treatise is as a key and outline of longer and
more complicated works; yet it has a high excellence of its own.
No. 22.—MARCH, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.
AMERICAN SECTION.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER.
FOURTH YEAR.
LOVERS OF THE EAST.
pgs. 126-128
ANQUETIL DUPERRON.
1731—1805.
WHO opened the doors of the east to the west? Who brought to the west the
light of the east? Who were the ministers of the Indian Renaissance, the
messengers of the Eastern Dawn? Earliest among the pioneers of the Eastern
Wisdom, and in some sense the most potent in influence of all the early
generation, we must record the name of Anquetil Duperron.
Born in Paris, on the 7th of December, 1731, Anquetil Duperron, as soon
as years brought him conscious choice, turned his whole energies and hopes to
the lands and learning of the east. It was as though a child of the eastern
races, whose lips had already long ago tasted the nectar of eastern wisdom, had
been brought by the cycle of birth and rebirth to the most stirring center of
the peoples of the west, that reviving memories might renew again the love for
the lore of the sunrise, and that he might serve as fitting messenger and
intermediary between the old races and the new. Like some wandered
sun-worshipper in the lands of mist and snow, his heart thirsted for the sunlit
forests and mountains.
After
studying such oriental tongues as were then known in Europe, Anquetil’s longing
for the east possessed him altogether; he would have set out on his pilgrimage
as a common soldier for the French armies in India, had not a meager benefice of
the government opened to him an easier path.
At Pondicherry, on the Madras coast, he studied modern Persian, then the
language of the Indian courts; then would have learned Sanskrit at Chandranagar
in the Ganges Delta, but the struggle for Indian rule between France and England
made it impossible for him to remain, and he took refuge at Surat, on the coast
to the north of Bombay. Surat was then the home of the Parsis, and Anquetil at
once plunged into the study of Zoroaster’s religion, translating as well as then
was possible the Zend-Avesta scripture of the worshippers of the holy
fire. In 1762 he returned to Paris; a few years later, in 1775, he
received from his friend Gentil, minister resident at Faizabad, an old Persian
manuscript, the translating of which gave to Anquetil his lasting fame. This
manuscript was a translation of the Upanishads into Persian, carried out under
the direction of the gifted, ill-fated Mogul Prince,
Mohamed Darashukoh. Darashukoh was grandson and rightful
heir of Akbar, the wisest and greatest of all modern Indian rulers;
and from Akbar he inherited the search for the one wisdom that
lies hid under all religions. This one wisdom Darashukoh sought
in the bibles of all peoples; the Koran, the Laws of Moses, the
Psalms, the Gospels. Sought, and found everywhere something precious; but the last word, the oneness of the Self and the
Eternal only in
the Upanishads of ancient India. Finding the Upanishad first in “the
Paradise land of Kashmir,” as he himself calls
that high, sunlit valley, he was eager to give them to the world,
and bent all energy on the completion of a Persian translation.
Almost immediately he fell victim to the cold bigotry of his
brother Aurungzeb, who, under the pretext of ridding the world
of a freehinker and infidel, cut his own pathway to the throne of
the Moguls.
But Darashukoh’s life-work was ended; his Persian translation of the Upanishads complete, and this translation it was that
Anquetil Duperron received, in Paris, in 1775.
Thinking French unsuitable, he set himself to render the
work in Latin; and, in the midst of his labors, the storm of the
French Revolution burst over his native land. Eager to continue
his work, Anquetil made himself a silent isolation in a single
room. “My food,” he said, “is bread, a little milk or cheese,
and spring water. With four sous a day I must supply my needs.
In winter I
have no wood for my fire, my bed has no pillow, no cover. I have neither wife
nor children nor servants; almost all the world’s good things I lack, and yet
how I love all men, and the good above all. Here I wage my hard war with the
senses, and disdain the enticements of the world. And, full of longing after the
highest being, I await with quiet heart the dissolution of my body.”
Anquetil’s Latin version brought the wisdom of India to the shrine of western
philosophy, yet one cannot but think that, had he rendered it into French, its
influence might have been far greater; the wisdom of the east might have found
its way, not to the shrine of the philosophers, but to the great heart of his
nation. In 1775 the field was ready for the sowing; the minds of the French
people were thirsty for new ideals; and, had Anquetil been a man of strong will
and eloquent speech, there might have been then, in France, not a revolution for
the evangels of Voltaire and Rousseau, but a Renaissance of Indian wisdom. Yet
perhaps the hour had not yet struck.
Anquetil’s splendid prologue to the Upanishads :—“Here, reader, is the key to
the Indian sanctuary “—was quoted a year ago, at the beginning of our Upanishad
studies. It remains only to give an insight into the quality of his work, by
translating a few lines from his version of the Upanishad “By the Master.” He
concludes it thus, weaving the commentary into the text:
“To the Light-being, the wise cry: O Being that hast the form of Light, lead me
on the pure way; make me partaker of the great treasures of blessedness. Thou
knowest all my works:
forgive my sin. To thee, bowing down, the deepest adoration.
“And the wise knows: ‘that the Spirit in the Sun, and the Light-being that has
the form of Light,—that am I; and the shining consciousness, that is universal
Being,—that am I; and the Evolver, the former of all,—that am I.’”
NO. 23—MAY, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE MOTHER OF THE VEDAS. p. 129
Rig Veda: 111, 62, 10.
THE
Gâyatri, the most sacred Indian verse, the Mother of the Vedas, is
taken from the third of the ten cycles of hymns, the cycle of the Râjaputra Sage
Vishvâmitra. This is its original form, preceded by the four sacred syllables:
Om Bhur Bhuvah Svah!
Tat Savitur varenyam
Bhargo devasya dhîmahi
Dhiyo yo nah prachodayât.
Taken word for word, it may be translated:
0m Earth., Mid World Heaven!
That Life-Sun’s adorable
Light,—god’s,— let-us-think-on,
Souls who for-us may-quicken.
Or, rendered more freely: Let us keep in mind the adorable light of that divine
Sun of Life, who may illumine our souls.
NO. 23—MAY, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE TWO
WISDOMS.
pgs.130-132
Mundaka Upanishad.
II.
MANIFEST, near at hand, moving in secret verily is that great support, and
by it all this is upheld, whatever moves and
lives with open eyes. Know this as Being and unbeing, the adorable supreme,
beyond the knowledge of beings, most excellent.
The Being like flame, smaller than small in whom the worlds are laid, and the dwellers in
the worlds; this is that unfading Eternal, this is Life and Voice and Mind. This
is the Real, this the Immortal, know dear that this is the aim to be reached.
As bow, grasping the hidden wisdom, the great weapon; laying on it the
sharpened arrow, aspiration; drawing the bow by
thought bent on that Being, know that the mark is that unfading Eternal.
The holy aspiration is the bow, self the arrow, the Eternal they call the mark;
it is to be pierced with steady aim; let the self, arrow-like, become one with
the mark.
In whom are heaven and earth and the world between; in whom mind and all the
lives are fixed, know that One as the Self, and be rid of all other voices, for
this is the bridge of the immortal.
Like spokes in the nave of a wheel, in this all channels are joined together;
this is he who moves within, through manifold births. Think on this Self as the
holy aspiration Om; may you reach safe the shore beyond the darkness.
He who knows all, who is all-wise, to whom this greatness in the world
belongs—this Self is set firm in the shining ether, in the luminous dwelling of
the Eternal. In the form of mind, this guides the lives and the vestures, set
firm in the food of the worlds ; setting their hearts on it, by
discerning this, the sages behold well him who shines as the bliss-formed
immortal.
The knot of the heart is opened; all doubts are cut; all his deeds fade away on
beholding this supreme who is the first and the last.
In the highest golden veil is the stainless, part-less Eternal; this is the
shining, the Light of Lights that the self-knowers know.
The sun shines not there, nor moon and star, nor this lightning, nor fire like
this. After the shining of this, all shines; from the shining of this, all else
receives its shining.
For the
Eternal verily is this immortal; eastward the Eternal, westward the Eternal,
southward the Eternal, and northward; below, above, extended the Eternal, this
all, this most excellent
One.
Two well-winged ones, well mated, cling together on the branch of the same tree;
one of the two eats the sweet figs; the other watches without eating.
On the same tree the spirit sinking down, for lack of the Master, is full of
sorrow, wandering in delusion; but when he beholds the other, the beloved
Master, as his own great Power, his sorrow is gone.
When the beholder beholds the gold-colored maker, the Master, spirit, Eternal,
the womb of worlds; then the wise one, shaking off good and bad, stainless
reaches the supreme union.
This is the life which shines through all beings; knowing and
understanding this, he declares there is naught beyond it. Rejoicing in the Self, delighting in the Self, doing all as the Self, he r
is the best knower of the Eternal.
Through reality and fervor is this Self to be gained, by perfect knowledge, by
perpetual service of the Eternal. In the inner
vesture is this starry shining one, whom the men of self-conquest, whose
stains have faded away, behold. Reality conquers, verily, not falsehood; by
reality is opened up the path, the way of the gods that the sages ascend by,
their desire is fulfilled; there is that Real’s supreme abode.
Great is that, divine, of form beyond imagining; that shines forth as subtler
than subtle. Further than far is it, and yet close at hand; for those who can
see, it is here, hidden in the secret place.
Nor by eye is it apprehended, nor by voice, nor by the other bright ones, nor by
fervor nor deeds. But by the grace of wisdom he whose being is pure beholds the
part-less One by the light of the soul.
This subtle Self is to be known in consciousness—the Self in—whom Life has
his fivefold dwelling. The whole inner power of mind is bound up with the lives;
when the inner power is made pure, the Self becomes manifest.
Whatever world the pure in nature pictures in his mind, and whatever desires he
desires, that world he wins and those desires; therefore let the seeker for
power honor the self-knower.
He knows the supreme Eternal, the home where the world resting there shines
bright. The desire-less sages who draw near to spirit, reach that luminous One.
He who desires, desires, and thinks on them, is born in that place through
his desires. But all desires melt utterly away even here for him whose desire is
accomplished, who has gained the Self.
This Self is not to be gained by speaking, nor by reasoning, nor by much
hearing; whom the Self chooses, by him it is to be gained; and the Self chooses
out his form as its own.
This Self is not to be gained by the impotent; nor by passionate emotion, nor by
undefined fervor. But one who strives by these means, after attaining wisdom,
the Self of him enters the home of the Eternal.
Gaining this Self, the seers exult in wisdom, having attained it; rid of raging
desire, and entered into peace. The sages, finding everywhere the all pervading,
united with the Self enter verily the All.
Very certain in the knowledge of the end of wisdom, self-conquered through the
union of renunciation, of pure nature, in the worlds of the Eternal, when their
time is ended, full of immortality they are together free.
The fifteen life-divisions are gone, the bright powers withdrawn into their
shining potencies; deeds and the Self that takes the form of knowledge have all
become one in the unchanging Supreme.
As the rolling rivers go to their setting in the ocean, giving up name and form;
so he who has attained wisdom, rid of name and form, reaches the divine spirit
beyond the highest.
He who verily knows the supreme Eternal, becomes the Eternal; there is none in
his line who knows not the Eternal. He crosses over sorrow, he crosses over sin
; rid of the knots of the heart, he becomes immortal.
So it is declared by the Vedic verse:
Let him say this wisdom of the Eternal is theirs who have fulfilled all acts,
who know the rites, who are established in the Eternal, who sacrifice faithfully
to the one Seer; and those who have duly performed the vow of the head.
The Seer Augiras taught this truth of old; let none learn it who has not
fulfilled the rite. Salutation to the higher seers salutation to the higher
seers.
NO. 23—MAY, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE HIDDEN SHINING. pgs.133-135
IN THIS book of Hidden Wisdom, there is very little that requires any comment
or explanation ; no symbols whose meaning is to
be looked for, no parables or allegories to be made clear; just the plainest and
most simple telling of the supreme secret that can be put into words.
Yet of this secret not much can be put into words, even with the best of wills;
for how can one describe that which the eyes have never seen, nor will ever see;
which the hands have never handled nor the ear heard; something which cannot
even he pictured by contrasts, for it is not the opposite of anything in this
world of ours, just as it is not the same as anything in the world.
Yet this hidden support, for all its farness and strangeness, is yet very
familiar and near; all men are perpetually feeling it, and, as it were, dipping
into the being of it; and all the best of them are perpetually trying to embody
this secret in the arts of beauty and in acts of generosity and broad-minded
goodwill.
This symbol has been used before, yet it is perhaps as good as any to embody the
sense of this secret being that presses in upon our lives. It is as though we
were men sitting in a cave among the rocks, at dark midnight, with our faces
toward the blank dead wall of the cave. At first all is blackness and silence;
and there
is only the sense of the cold night air and its freshness coming in upon us from
the great emptiness outside; all is very silent and dark, or only moved with dim
formless murmurings and shadows of sound.
Then, little by little, the first grey-ness of dawn comes; the dead rock wall
before us is very faintly becoming visible to our eyes straining through the
darkness; and, as it grows lighter, a dim redness of dawn is caught and flung
about in broken reflections across the rock before us, and our shadows begin to
be seen. Then, from that moment, all the thought and watchfulness that are in us
are bound up in the fortunes of the shadows, as they move about there, in that
dim, ruddy light of dawn. And we are so utterly absorbed in them that we forget
not only ourselves, but the very being of the light that cast our shadows on the
walls.
Then perhaps some one among us begins to tire of the shadow-show cast on that
dead rocky wall, and gradually falls to thinking
of the light behind; and, at last, in a moment of inspiration, turns, rises,
leaves the cave, and suddenly enters the fair world of perfect day.
One can imagine such a one, after drinking in the brightness of the sunlight,
and feeling the full delight of the fair living world, coming back to the
cave-dwellers and their shadow-show, and trying to turn their eyes away from the
mimicking, mocking shades to the light behind, that is flowing so abundantly
through the cavern’s mouth.
But when men’s hearts are in a shadow-show like this, he must have a very
eloquent voice who would interest them in other things, and very winning must he
be who would prevail on them to leave their watching of the shadows, and come
with him to the world of life.
For the men in the cave have noticed that the shadows are in some way bound to
themselves; indeed they noticed that very early in the morning. And seeing that
every movement of the shadows answers to their Own movements and the changes of
their wills, they are anxiously interested in the shadows’ welfare, and in
direct apprehension lest any mishap should overtake the flat, black manikins on
the wall. Indeed, when the shadows of two of them cross each other on the same
piece of rock, they think their temporary obliteration is a real injury; and
they have been for a long time full of very bitter feeling towards each other,
touching this injury to their shades.
It is nearly a hopeless task for the messenger who has come back to them from
the outer sunlight, and who tries to bring them forth with him, for what do
they know about the sun; and are they not altogether absorbed in the game of
shadows on the dead rock wall? It is only when some of them are weary of their
shadow play, or in some momentary lull, that the messenger has any chance at
all, and even then he is met by a good deal of doubt and questioning, and finds
it very hard to get into these good folks’ heads any idea of what sunlight is.
There must be a good deal of good humored pity in the messenger’s mind, as he
sees these people so absorbed in their strange game, their parody of real life;
but he will willingly exert all fancy and ingenuity to tell of the sunlight and
make it thinkable, wherever he finds open ears. And now and then there are times
when a good many grow weary together, and fall to listening to what the
messenger has to tell; and some of the very bravest among them, sometimes, very
rarely, have actually the courage to get up and go out into the world of
everlasting day— that strange day where the
sun rises but shall not set again, but rising, stands
forever in mid-heaven.
Some day they will, all of them, be persuaded to leave their shadow-show and
their black, rocky cave behind, and all together go out and bathe in the living
light; then the rocks will say—for there will be no one else left to say it
:—Alas! this is the end of the world!
As the world is now, we are most of us still busy with the shadows and their
struggles, each one fighting with other shadows for his own bit of dead wall;
and some of us are getting tired of it all, and are ready to believe the
messengers who, with good-natured chiding, are inviting us to leave it all, and
come out into the real world.
We shall go out presently, and drink in the sunlight for ourselves, and then we
shall come back to these hot-headed people in the cave, each of them championing
his own shadow against the rest, and trying to make it fill the largest possible
space of the bare rock. We shall do our best to interest them in the question of
healthy daylight, dealing rather gently with them, because they really take the
mishaps of their shadows so terribly to heart and we remember that it is not
such a long time since we did, too.
Our messages will be like these books of hidden wisdom, messages of hidden
daylight, of the shining that is so full of joy, out there in the beyond. And
this wisdom is hidden, very securely hidden too, because these good people so
steadfastly refuse to turn their heads, and it is no easy matter to get an
inkling of it into them. But one day we shall all be out there together, our
game of shadows ended, laughing to each other in the light of the healthy sun.
NO. 23—MAY, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE EARLIEST RACES.
pgs.136-140
Vayu Purana: ,1,
7.
AT THE
beginning of the formative period, in the first of the
four ages, the Evolver put forth beings.
The beings, which I told you of in former times, were these beings; but, the
formative period coming to an end, they were then burnt up by fire.
Those of them who did not gain the world of fervor found refuge in the latent
world of men; and when the time of putting forth comes again they become seed.
And standing there as seed, against the time of putting forth, they are
thereupon put forth for the sake of descendants.
They are recorded as the fulfillers of duty, wealth, desire, freedom ; they are
bright ones, fathers, seers, men.
Thus possessed of fervor they replenish the places ; they are the Evolver’s
mind-born sons, of perfect nature.
They who engage in deeds, with attachment, and yet without hatred, go to heaven,
and, returning here are born in age after age.
Through the remaining fruits of their deeds, and according to their character,
they are born from the latent world of men, through the binding efficiency of
their deeds.
Their tendency outward, arising from their deeds, is to be known as the cause;
and through these deeds, whether good or bad, they are born from the latent
world of men.
They sieze vestures of many forms for their birth, from shining beings to
immovable things, and everything between.
And whatever deeds attached to them in the former period of putting forth, these
same attach to them, as they are put forth again and again.
Harmful or harmless, soft or cruel, dutiful or undutiful, true or untrue—according to their nature they come forth ; and so one thing pleases each.
And whatever were their names and forms in ages gone by, they receive the same
names and forms again.
They receive the same names and forms, and again and again through the ages they
are reborn according to name and form.
Thereupon, the time of putting forth having approached, as the Evolver desired
to put forth, with his mind intent upon forming beings, he put forth from his
face a thousand pairs, of substantial nature and very luminous.
And another thousand pairs he put forth from his breast; they were all forceful
and passionate. And he put forth another thousand couples from his thighs; they
were forceful and dark; effortful in character.
And from his feet he put forth yet another thousand pairs; they were full of
darkness, inglorious, of little vigor.
Then these twin-born living beings were drawn towards each other. Thenceforth,
in this age, their coming together is recorded.
There was not among them the characteristic of sex ; nor were children
born to these beings thus coming together.
But at the end of their lives they produced a single pair; informate boys and
girls were born to them at the point of death.
And from thenceforth in this formative period was the birth of pairs; in thought
and through mental activity were they born of these beings, once only.
They perceived sounds and other objects; they were pure and with five marks
each. This was the first, the mental putting forth of the Lord of beings.
The world was filled by those who were born in the multiplying of these beings;
they dwelt by rivers and lakes and oceans and mountains.
Then they felt neither heat nor cold excessively; and found a food—as it were
the growth of the dew of the earth.
And these beings, when they had desires, found a mental fulfilment of them. They
had neither law nor lawlessness, and there was no difference between them.
In that first age, their age, happiness and form were equal. They had neither
law nor lawlessness in that first age, at the beginning of the formative epoch.
They were born, each living according to his own authority in that first age,
which lasted four thousand years, according to divine reckoning.
And the beginning and ending twilights of the first age were each four hundred
years. These beings were multiplied thousand-fold thereafter.
Yet they had no hindrance, nor two-sidedness, nor weariness. They were mountain
dwellers and ocean dwellers, not living in houses.
They were sorrow-less, of excellent nature, simple in their joys; they moved
about at will, perpetually rejoicing in mind.
Then there were no animals nor birds nor reptiles, nor land plants nor water
growths; for these things were sown by lawlessness.
Nor were
there roots, fruits nor flowers, nor the season’s difference, nor seasons. All
was happiness according to desire, nor was there excessive heat nor cold.
Always and everywhere, all things were according to their desire, springing
forth from the earth at their mere thought, very savory.
They had a power that made strength and color and destroyed disease. With
unadorned bodies, these beings stood firm in young vigor.
By pure will their twin offspring was born of them. Equal was their birth and
form, and they died equally.
They had truth, generosity, endurance, satisfaction, happiness, control. They
were all without difference, in form, age, character or force.
Their sustenance was born of its own accord, without forethought of theirs; they
engaged in no deeds that were either fair or unprofitable.
There was no difference of class or order then, nor confusion. They acted toward
each other without either desire or hate.
Neither high nor low, they were all equal in form and age, full of happiness,
free from grief, in that first age.
Of perpetually contented mind were they, very substantial, of great force ;
nor did gain and loss exist for them, nor friend and enemy, nor love and
hate.
They gained their object without effort, through mind alone; nor were they
envious nor grasping toward each other.
Meditation is the crown of the first age; wisdom of the second; sacrifice began
in the third age; but giving is the crown of the fourth.
To the first age belongs substance or goodness; to the second, force ; to
the third, force and darkness, mixed; in the fourth age, darkness, through the
sway of the advancing age.
This is the measure of the first age; learn the numbering of it:
four thousand years was the measure of the first age, and the twilights of it
four hundred divine years each in number.
And throughout all this first age, these beings enjoyed a complete life, nor had
they the pains of weariness.
Then, when this first age and its two twilights were gone, the law of the age in
all things diminishes to a quarter.
And at the end of the age, when the twilight was passed, the law of the twilight
diminished by a quarter.
So, when the first age ceased, its power turned inward; and it was so,
thenceforth, when this mind-power was destroyed.
But during
the second age, another power took its place; as, at the beginning of the period
of putting forth, eight mind-powers were enumerated by me.
And, as the age moves on, these eight powers are manifested; but at the
beginning of the formative period, only one mental power exists.
In every human period, according to the division of the four ages, it is
recorded that an arrangement according to class and order is made, and a
complete development of deeds.
The beginning twilight of the first age diminished by a quarter, the age itself
diminished by a quarter, the ending twilight diminished by a quarter, each of
the three proportionately.
They are shortened by the laws of the ages, according to the periods measured
out for fervor, enlightenment, force.
Then, when the first age came to an end, there straightway succeeded the second
age; the excellent seers call it a part of the first age. When this first age
was gone, beings were left as a remnant of it.
At the beginning of that formative period, when the second age came on, the
power of the first period passed away through the fullness of time and not
otherwise.
And when this power was gone, another power arose.
Then from the fine breath of the waters, collecting together, the cloud-power
came into being. From the clouds and thunderings came the putting forth of rain.
And when the surface of the earth was once taken possession of by this rain,
there were manifested tree-like dwellings for beings.
And all kinds of mutual pleasure were born for them through these tree-like
dwellings. And through them they shone, in the front of the second age.
Then through the passage of great time, a nature of rage and desire grew up
within them, from no outward cause.
And the characteristic of sex that belongs to the end of a life period,—this
does not return again through the force of the age.
But for these beings, this sex-character came back in its regular form. And the
birth of children began at a wrong time.
And thereupon the tree-like dwellings came to an end, everyone of them, through
their unlucky time.
When the tree-like dwellings had departed, these beings deeply disturbed,
uffering in their powers, thought upon that power of theirs, thinking truly upon
it.
Then their tree-like dwellings came back to them again. And vestures were
produced as the fruit of the trees, and adornments.
And among
them was born, for these beings, a honey full of
scent and color and savor. It was not the honey of bees, but a
great power lying in every fold.
By this they were fed in the front of the second age. Joyful
and glad at this power were these beings whose old age was gone
away.
And after awhile they were again invaded with greed, and took
to seizing the tree-like dwellings and that honey not of bees by
force.
And through that sin of theirs thus born of greed the trees of
the age disappeared altogether, and their honey with them.
Then through the power of the twilight, as only a little was
left, these beings fell under the power of two-sidedness, and were
afflicted greatly by cold bitter winds and heat.
And suffering from this two-sidedness, they made coverings
for themselves, and build houses to protect themselves against
these extremes.
Before that, they lived not in houses, but dwelt according to
their own sweet will, wherever it suited them, wherever they
pleased.
In deserts, in wastes, in the deeps, in mountains, in caves were
their dwellings, and in pathless places, a wilderness with perpetual
water.
As they chose, as they pleased, in rough and even places alike,
they began to make houses, as a protection against cold and heat.
And they measured themselves out fields and cities,
villages also, according to shares, and dwellings near the cities.
NO. 23—MAY, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
LOVERS OF THE
EAST. pgs. 141-142
SIR WILLIAM JONES.
1746-1794.
WE HAVE seen how Anquetil Duperron,
a Lover of the East,
brought to Europe the first seed of Indian Wisdom after
years of toil and painful sacrifice and privation; how, through obscurity and
poverty, he labored to give to the modern world the key to the Indian Sanctuary’.
No greater contrast to his whole life and work could be found than the life and
work of Sir William Jones. If Anquetil’s mission was to gather precious things
through years of toil and hardships, then the mission of Sir William Jones was
to touch Oriental studies with prestige; to gain for them public recognition and
acclamation; to make them tastefully acceptable to the world of the elegant and
learned; and, one fears it must be added, to overlook altogether their real and
lasting value.
For this mission of his, this opening up of the East for the amusement and instruction of the polite, his early life and education had admirably prepared
him. On leaving Harrow, he was well grounded not only in Greek and Latin, but
also in Hebrew and Arabic, the only Oriental tongues then seriously studied in
Europe. When at Oxford, he learned one other Oriental language—Persian,—as well
as Spanish, Portugese, and Italian. Then, becoming tutor to Lord Althorpe, he
spent his leisure in composing a Persian grammar and dictionary; and, a few
years later, translated a Persian life of Nadir Shah, for the King of Denmark.
Taking up the profession of Law, he was called to the bar in 1774; and eight
years later published an Arabic treatise on the Mohamedan law of succession,
with an English translation. This book seems to have determined his destiny;
for, in 1783, in recognition of his double knowledge of law and oriental
languages, he was appointed one of the supreme judges in Calcutta, and at the
same time was knighted. In the words of his biographer: “In December 1783, he
entered upon his judicial functions, and, at the opening of the sessions,
delivered his first charge to the grand jury. The public had formed a high
estimate of his oratorical powers, nor were they disappointed. His address was
elegant, concise, and appropriate; the exposition of his sentiments and
principles was equally manly and conciliatory, and calculated to inspire
general satisfaction, as the known sincerity of his character was a test of his
adherence to his professions.”
Sir William Jones seems himself to have been conscious of his destiny as the
polite populariser of the East; for, during his voyage, he drew up a list of
what he meant to achieve in the field of Oriental research. In this list we find
as subjects for study: the laws of the Hindus and Mohamedans; the history of the
Ancient World; proofs and illustrations of scripture; traditions concerning the
deluge; modern politics and geography of Hindustan; best mode of governing Bengal; arithmetic
and geometry and mixed sciences of the Asiatics; medicine, chemistry, surgery,
and anatomy of the Indians; natural products of India; poetry, rhetoric, and
morality of Asia; music of the eastern nations; the three hundred Chinese Odes;
the best accounts of Tibet and Kashmir; the trade, manufactures, agriculture, and
commerce of India; the constitution of the Moguls and Mahrattas—the two powers
from whom the English actually wrested India.
And, as though this were not enough, Sir William Jones further proposed to
himself to translate the third gospel into Arabic; the Psalms into Persian; to
compose essays, histories, epics, orations, philosophic dialogues, and letters,
on the model of Aristotle, Thucydides, Homer, Demosthenes, and Plato. Had he
added dramas on the model of Sheakspeare, his plan would have been complete; and
we might have had “imitations of all the greatest works in the world: by Sir
William Jones, Knight”!
One is struck by the fact that, in all this wonderful series of projected studies,
one thing is wanting; and this one lack is more important than all the rest that
was projected and fulfilled. It is the ideal of Eastern wisdom, to which Anquetil
Duperron so entirely devoted his life.
After arriving at Calcutta, Sir William Jones in due course founded the
“Asiatick Society, for the purpose of enquiring into the history, civil and
natural, the antiquities, arts, sciences, and literature of Asia.” This
was in January, 1782; and, in his opening discourse, Sir William Jones,
as President-Founder, said:
‘When I was at sea last August, on my voyage to this country, which I had long
desired to visit, I found, one evening, on inspecting the observations of the
day, that India lay before us, and Persia on our left, whilst a
breeze from Arabia blew nearly on our stern. A situation so pleasing in
itself, and to me so new, could not fail to awaken a train of reflections in a
mind which had early been accustomed to contemplate with delight the eventful
histories and agreeable fictions of this Eastern world. It gave me an
inexpressible pleasure to find myself in the midst of so noble an amphitheatre,
almost encircled by the vast regions of Asia, which had ever been
esteemed the nurse of sciences, the inventress of delightful and useful arts,
the scene of glorious actions, fertile in the productions of human genius,
abounding in natural wonders, and infinitely diversified in the forms of
religion and government, in the laws, manners, customs, and languages, as well
as in the features and complexions of men. I could not help remarking how
important and extensive a field was yet unexplored, and how many solid
advantages unimproved: and when I considered with pain that, in this fluctuating,
imperfect, and limited condition of life, such inquiries and improvements could
only be made by the united efforts of many who are not easily brought, without
some pressing inducement or strong impulse, to converge in a common point, I
consoled myself with a hope, founded on opinions which it might have the
appearance of flattery to mention, that if in any country or community such a
union could be effected, it was among my countrymen in Bengal; with some
of whom I had already, and with most was desirous of having, the pleasure of
being intimately acquainted.
‘You have realized that hope, gentlemen, and even anticipated a declaration of
my wishes, by your alacrity in laying the foundation of a Society for enquiring
into the History and Antiquities, the Natural Productions, Arts, Sciences, and
Literature of Asia.’
Thus, amid wreaths of eulogy, and garlands of eloquence, the Asiatic Society
of Bengal was founded; the methodical study of Oriental subjects was formally
inaugurated. And the President-Founder helped to carry out these objects by
publishing a translation of Manu’s Laws, full of instructions to the learned, and
a version of the drama Shakuntala, destined to gratify the taste of the polite.
Yet Sir William Jones and his colleagues had hardly a dawning presentiment of
their true work. They talked, rather at random, of useful knowledge, of natural
products, of researches into chirurgy, anatomy, astronomy; of arts, literatures,
and sciences; but said not a word of philosophy, not a word of the high
idealism, with its broad sanity and perfect lucity, which is the East’s most
perfect gift to the West.
Like the nomads of Gobi, they roamed hither and thither, dreaming of buried
treasures, and of finding them, but utterly uncertain where their search should
begin, and not less uncertain of the true nature of the treasures they might be
destined to find.
Their spiritual and moral attitude was anything but calculated to call forth
the deep and high message of ancient India; was anything but tuned to the iron
chords of intuition and divinity that are beginning to resound through the heart
of the modern world.
No. 24—JUNE, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE RACES OF ANCIENT INDIA.
p.145
Mahabharata: Shantiparvan 6934.
OF THE Brahmans, white is the color; of the Kshattriyas, red; of the
Vaishyas, yellow is the color; of the Shudras,
black.
There was no difference of colors; formerly all this world was put forth divine
by the Evolver; it came to be colored through works.
They who were fond of love and feasts, fiery, warlike, fierce, undutiful,
red-limbed,— these twice-born became Kshattriyas.
Those who relied on cattle for a livelihood, who were yellow, who lived by
ploughing, who were undutiful,— these twice-born. became Vaishyas.
Those who were fond of injury and unrighteousness, greedy, living by any work,
black, fallen from purity,—these twice-born. became Shudras.
Duty, in these verses, means the station in life to which it p/eased the Brahmanical hierarchy to call the other classes.
No. 24—JUNE, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
THE LOTUS OF THE TEACHING.
pgs.146-149
Taittirya Upanishad.
OM Bless us Mitra; bless us Varuna; bless us Aryaman; bless us Indra,
Vrhaspati; bless us wide-stepping Vishnu. Obeisance to the Eternal; obeisance to
thee, Breath; thou art verily the manifested Eternal I will declare thee, the
manifested Eternal. I will declare the true. I will declare the real. May that
guard me; may that guard the Speaker; may it guard me; may it guard the Speaker.
Om. Peace. Peace. Peace.
We shall declare the teaching: Color, sound; the measure, the force; the word,
the expansion; this is called the study of the teaching.
With us is radiance; with us, the shining of the Eternal. Then we shall declare
the hidden teaching of unions, in its five qualities: for the worlds, the fires,
the wisdoms, the births, the body. These they call the great unions.
So, as to the worlds. Earth is the first form; heaven, the last form; shining
ether, their uniting; the great Breath joins them. Thus for the worlds.
Then as to the fires. Earthly fire is the first form; the sun, the last form;
the waters, their uniting; the electric fire joins them. Thus for the fires.
Then as to wisdoms. The Master is the first form; he who dwells beside him, the
last form; the wisdom, their uniting; the declaring of it joins them. Thus for
the wisdoms.
Then as to births. Mother is the first form; Father, the second form; what is
born, their uniting; the engendering joins them. Thus for births.
Then as to the body. The lower jaw is the first form; the upper jaw, the last
form; voice is their uniting; the tongue joins them. Thus for the body.
These are the great unions. He who knows the great unions thus declared is
united with offspring, cattle, the shining of the Eternal, the food and the
rest, the heaven world.
He who is the ruler of the hymns, born more immortal than the hymns,—may he
Indra enkindle me with wisdom. O bright one, may I become the receptacle of
immortality. May my body be vitalized. May my tongue be honey-sweet. May I hear
well with both ears.
Thou art the veil of the Eternal, endowed with wisdom. Guard well the wisdom
heard by me. May the power that makes the garment of the Self, wide extended, bringing my vestures and cattle,
guard me, giving me food and drink; may that power bring me wealth of well-clad
flocks. That power I invoke.
May they who serve the Eternal come to me. That power I invoke.
May they who serve the Eternal pervade me. That power I invoke.
May they who serve the Eternal shine forth in me. That power I invoke.
May they who serve the Eternal give me self-control. That power I invoke.
May they who serve the Eternal bring me peace. That power I invoke.
May I become the shining in men. That power I invoke.
May I become better than riches. That power I invoke;
May I come onward to thee, divine wealth. That power I invoke.
May that divine wealth come onward to me. That power I invoke.
In this thousand-branched power, divine wealth, in thee shall I become clean.
As the waters, forward flowing,—as the months, enter the consumer of days,—so
may they who serve the Eternal come to me, approaching from all sides. That
power I invoke. Thou art our dwelling; shine forth in me; come near to me ,Earth, mid-world, heaven,—there are these three names. The
son of Mahâchamasa reveals the fourth; it is Mighty, it is Eternal, it is the
Self. Its members are the other shining ones.
Earth is this world; the mid-world is the inter-space; heaven is the other world;
the Mighty is the Sun. For from this Sun all three worlds draw their might.
Then Earth is fire; the mid-world is the breath; heaven is the sun; the Mighty
is the moon. For from the moon the other lights draw their might.
Then Earth is the Rig; the mid-world is the Sama; heaven is the Yajur; the
Mighty is the Eternal. For from the Eternal all the Vedas draw their might.
Then earth is the forward-life; the mid-world is the down ward-life; heaven is
the distributing-life; the Mighty is the food. For from the food all the lives
draw their might.
These verily are these four, fourfold; four names for each of the four. He who
knows these, knows the Eternal. All the bright ones bring their offerings to
him.
There is this shining ether in the inner being. Therein is this spirit
formed of mind, immortal, golden.
Inward, in the palate, the organ that hangs down like a nipple,—this is a birth-place of Indra. And there, where the dividing of the hair turns
round, extending upward to the crown of the head.
Earth rests in fire; the mid-world in the breath; heaven in the Sun; the Mighty
in the Eternal. He gains royal power over himself, he gains lordship of mind, he
is lord of voice, he is lord of the eye, he is lord of hearing, lord of
knowledge; then he becomes the Eternal, bodied in shining ether, the real Self,
who delights in life, who is mind, who is bliss; whose wealth is immortal peace.
Earth, inter-space, heaven, space, the spaces between; fire, breath, sun, moon,
the star-mansions; waters, lesser growths, greater growths, shining ether, the
Self,—there in the realm of being.
Then in the realm of the Self. The forward-life, distributing life,
downward-life, upward-life, uniting-life; seeing, hearing, mind, voice, touch;
skin, flesh, sinew, bone, muscle; having ascertained these divisions, the seer
declared: Fivefold, verily, is all this; by the fivefold he enkindles the
fivefold.
Om; thus the Eternal is designated. Om; thus is designated the All. Om; thus
affirmation is expressed. Command also, they say; thus they command. Om; the
Sama hymns sing. Om; thus the hymns of praise proclaim. Om; thus the priest of
offerings makes reply. Om; thus the aspiration goes forth in praise. Om; thus he
orders the sacrifice of fire. Om; thus says the knower of the Eternal, about to
recite the Vedas: May I gain the Eternal. He, verily, gains the Eternal.
Righteousness, study, teaching; truth, study, teaching; fervor, study, teaching;
self-control, study, teaching; peacefulness, study, teaching; the fires, study,
teaching; the fire-offering, study, teaching; hospitality, study, teaching;
humanity, study, teaching; beings, study, teaching; their coming into being,
study, teaching; their being, study, teaching.
As to truth, Satyavachas Rathitaras spoke. As to fervor, Taponitya Paurushishti
spoke. As to study and teaching, Naka Maudgalya spoke. This is fervor; this,
verily, is fervor.
I am as the life of the tree; my glory is like the mountain-top; I am purified
in my root; I am immortal, wealth, splendor. I am full of wisdom, immortal,
unfading. This is Trishanku’s declaration of wisdom.
Teaching him
wisdom, the Master thus instructs him who draws near him: Speak truth; fulfill
the law; stray not from earnest study; bringing the wealth dear to the Master,
cut not off the thread of being. From truth err not; from the law err not; from
well-being err not; from strength err not; from study and teaching err not.
Err not from the works for gods and fathers; take on the divinity of the mother;
take on the divinity of the father; take on the divinity of the Master; take on
the divinity of the guest.
Whatever deeds are blameless, these are to be followed, not others. Whatever
deeds we have done well, these are to be followed by thee, not others.
Whatever knowers of the Eternal are more favored than we, thou shalt honor them
by giving a resting-place to them; thou shalt give it with faith; thou shalt not
give it without faith; thou shalt give it with grace; thou shalt give it with
modesty; thou shalt give it with fear; thou shalt give it with learning. And if
thou hast doubts about deeds or doubts about conduct, whatever knowers of the
Eternal are of sound judgment, attached, unattached, controlled, lovers of the
law,—as they would all in these things, so shalt thou act.
And among designations, whatever knowers of the Eternal are of sound judgment,
attached, unattached, controlled, lovers of the law,—as they would act in these
things, so shalt thou act.
This is the teaching, this the counsel, this the hidden wisdom, this the
instruction, this is what is to be followed; this verily is to be followed.
Om. Bless us Mitra; bless us Varuna; bless us Aryaman; bless us Indra, Vrhaspati;
bless us wide-stepping Vishnu. Obeisance to the Eternal; obeisance to thee,
Breath, thou art verily the manifested Eternal. I have declared thee the
manifested Eternal. I have declared the true, I have declared the real. That has
guarded me, that has guarded the Speaker. It has guarded me, it has guarded the
Speaker.
Om. Peace. Peace. Peace.
No. 24—JUNE, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.
FIRST LESSONS IN THE MYSTERIES.
pgs.149-155
From the Taittiriya Upanishad.
IN
STUDYING these Books of Hidden Wisdom, one is divided between two
opinions: Are the truths and intuitions of life
that they convey somewhat carefully hidden, so that only by rather close study
one may come to an understanding of what they
have to
teach; or are they, on the contrary, so openly and frankly expressed that no one
having any understanding at all of what they teach can possibly fail to
comprehend and assimilate them?
Both opinions are probably true. There are passages so clear, so full of light,
so “radiantly shining,” to use the words of the Upanishads themselves, that no
one whose mind has become in any degree a mirror for higher things can fail to
catch their light. While, on the other hand, there are passages, not so much of deliberately concealed meaning, as of complex and profound nature, whose full
significance can only be perceived in the light of many other passages, each of
which catches a ray from one side of the light of truth, so that only by the reunion of all the rays can their truth shine in its fulness.
Nor is the different quality of these two classes of passages left to be decided by pure chance. Nothing could be further from the truth. On
the contrary, the passages most full of “radiant shining” contain just the
truths that must shine to us first out of the darkness, truths like these: Find
the true Self behind the habitual self; the true Self is born not, nor dies, but
is immortal, immemorial, ancient; the true Self is the Eternal,—that thou art.
When we have taken these truths home, and made them free holders of our
spirits, so that we know them inwardly, by their own light, by the light of that
very Self that is the Eternal, then the whole of life slowly and gradually takes
on another face; everything round us in this complicated, many colored world
begins to acquire a new and different value and significance. We begin at first
to guess, and then clearly to see that life is not at all what we believed it to
be, what we were told it was, but something quite other; something far more full
of young, quickening vigor, and sweeping, tremendous power that we had believed;
and as this awakening gathers force without and within us, we begin to guess
strange secrets of the building of the worlds, and how they lie wrapped in the
Self that is the Eternal.
Only after one has begun to see this new face of the world can one understand at
all what has been said about it by others to whom this same shining light has
appeared. And it is this understanding itself which is the key to all riddles
and mysteries; a key that can neither be stolen nor given away, but which each
one must make or win for himself to the best of his power. The greatest truth of
all is oneness. A truth that can hardly be communicated, or gained any other way
than by a dawning intuition within the soul, an awakening sense of real and
intimate unity with all that is.
Yet, in spite of this oneness, life and the world seem wonderfully varied and
changing, always and ever mutable, in perpetual ebb and flow. The one, the real,
is presenting itself to us in many ways, in varied vestures, under different
veils, in constantly changing disguises.
But as it is the eternal One that wears these veils and vestures and disguises,
there is a clearly visible oneness running through them all; as an actor has the
same gait and figure in many parts. So that we may group the vestures and
disguises into series of types, and then compare them together, according to
their ‘correspondIng degrees of nearness to, or farness from, the infinite
simplicity of the One.
By this grouping of the types of veil and disguise that the One wears in
manifested existence, we shall gradually build up a conception of the form and
character of the universe; a sacred science of things as they are—sacred,
because nothing is holier than the real. To this science of things as they are,
no one can have access but they who have taken the first step towards seeing
things as they are, who have divined the oneness between their real self and the
Self of all beings. Therefore every record of this science will be a closed book
to all who have not divined this first secret; while it will be increasingly
plain to all who share the secret, in proportion to the force and luminousness
of their insight.
The Taittiriya Upanishad seems to be some such record of the sacred science.
Here and there, there are broken sentences, broken thoughts, half developed
comparisons, abruptly interrupted and fragmentary teachings, as if the hand of
time or some other despoiler had borne heavily upon the pages of the record,
destroying much and hiding much from sight. Yet, though much has been
destroyed, much remains, making this Book of Hidden Wisdom a series of
light-flashes, calling up the hidden memories in our hearts, leading us to an
understanding of things as they are.
Much will become plain, in this school-book of the mysteries, by comparison with
other records of the sacred sciences, and, more than all, by comparison with
other parts of the Upanishads themselves. One intuition in particular we shall
find running all through the teaching, as the great Breath runs through the
three worlds. This is the teaching of the manifesting of the Self in a graduated
harmony of steps or worlds; a teaching of which very much has been said in
commenting on other Upanishads. ‘And this teaching illustrates very well the
distinction between open and hidden
science, the latter only intelligible to those who have in some degree caught
the light of the Self. The simplest form of this teaching is that side of it
that refers to the fields of consciousness of the Self: waking, dreaming,
dreamlessness, and the fourth, which is no state but the Self itself.
Until the reality, independence, self-existence of the Self is in some degree
divined, this teaching is unintelligible. For even the first step of it, the
idea that the manifold, waking, outward world is the lowest mode of the Self,
can only be comprehended after it is known that the Self is. Till this knowledge
of the Self is gained, it will be believed that the outward, waking world is
real, self-existent, independent; and that the sense of self-hood in us is an
accident of the reality. Then of dreaming. When the Self is known, it is seen
that dreaming is but another mode of manifesting of the Self, a mode of
consciousness freed from the tyranny of space; and that the external “realities”
of waking life are only frozen dreams, to be presently thawed by the spirit
which stands above space. Then again, dreamlessness. People would describe it as
the vanishing of something; the disappearance of the outward things that made up
the two other worlds of waking and dream. It is, in fact, a disappearance of
something; but that something is a double unreality, so that dreamlessness is
two degrees nearer the Real than waking, and one degree nearer than dream. This
initial lesson depends, as we have seen, on the preliminary understanding of the
reality of the Self; till that reality is known by first-hand knowledge, the
teaching that dreamlessness is a far more vivid reality than waking life will
seem mere nonsense and incoherency.
With this initial lesson of the three steps to the Self, the three worlds where
the Self shines with divided light, the Taittiriya Upanishad is largely engaged;
and, though the opening and closing sentences of this chapter are probably of a
different origin and period, the same idea runs through them also. We may
illustrate this by saying that the initials of Mitra, Varuna, and Aryaman, taken
in reverse order, from the sacred syllable; that Indra and Vrhaspati are names
of the higher Self of dreamless reality, Indra being the lord of the azure
sphere of the sky, and thus the ruler; Vrhaspati corresponding to the planet
Jupiter, and being, besides, the Teacher of the “bright ones “, as Indra is
their ruler. Then again “wide-stepping” Vishnu, who strides across the firmament
in three paces, is the thread-Self who knits the repeated births together, and
becomes manifest through the three times and the three worlds. These three steps
of Vishnu
are, we are told, a myth of the sun; yes, but then the sun is a myth of the
Self. Then again it is not hard to discern the meaning of this: “Obeisance to
the Eternal; obeisance to thee, Breath; thou art, verily, the manifested
Eternal.” Being is manifested as life. The Eternal is Being, the great Breath,
“he who sleeps in the Mother,” is life made manifest in space.
The first sentence of the Upanishad itself, following this benediction, is not
less clear, once certain broad intuitions of the Upanishads are seized. The life
becomes manifest through form; as sound, through color; as force, through
measure; as the expansive power of the Evolver, through the Evolver’s “sister
and bride,” the feminine, passive Word.
Thus the world and the worlds begin to come into being. Then the five unions or
collectivities. In each case, there are the three grades or steps to the Self,
pervaded by a power or energy of the Self. First the “union” of the three
worlds: earth, or waking life; dreamless life or heaven; and, between these two
extremes, the mid-world, the dream-world, the mirror-world, reflecting earth
from beneath, and heaven from above; the great Breath,—manifested life,—joins
them all three, and knits them together.
Then the three fires. Earthly fire, the energy of vital life; the fire in the
waters,—the fire of desire in the waters of emotional life; and the sun, the
steady light of intuition. All three, modes of the electric fire, the manifested
will of the Self.
Then in exact harmony with these, the Master, who has reached dreamless reality,
lit by the fire of intuition, stands above the pupil; the teaching is the link;
the declaring of it joins them together. The description of the pupil as “he who
dwells beside