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.:

APPENDIX.

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 Git
â, 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 cate
chisms 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 parimit
â 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, on the verge of, the Master” is a very graphic and luminous image. The pupil is he who has already passed over the verge into the circle of light that surrounds the Master, and is to that extent a partaker of his light. Here, as always, the Master is the higher Self, or one in whom the higher Self is luminous, who speaks the language of the higher Self, whose will is the power of the higher Self.

    Father, Mother, Child; again an admirable figure. Father is heaven; Mother, earth; the Child is the life engendered between them; the riches of the Self, born of the union of these two powers of the Self.

    Then the flocks and herds and offspring that belong to him who knows this union; here, as elsewhere, flocks and herds, the wealth of a pastoral people, are mystically used for the mystical wealth of the awakened Self, the’ “fruits of the spirit.” The “children” are new births; blameless “sons” are new births spent in the gaining of wisdom.

    Indra who is to enkindle with wisdom, to make us receptacles of immortality, is again the Sky-lord, the higher Self. It is not difficult to divine the meaning of what follows, in the prayer to Indra: “May my body be vitalized, may my tongue be sweet as honey; may I hear well with both ears.” This is the tongue that speaks, the ears that hear, in the presence of the Masters, the ministers of new life ruled by the higher Self.

    Then follows the long invocation to the higher Self,—the “veil of the Eternal “— who brings the new vestures and the “flocks and herds” of mystic power; this changes to an invocation of those in whom the higher Self is manifest, the “servants of the Eternal.”

    Exactly such an invocation must be made by the intuition and will; by the will, as motive power and executive force, guided by the intuition as leader and light; or rather by the single power which is at once will and intuition. There must be a steady, selfless determination to become consciously and completely that higher Self which we divine that we really are; to open our windows to the light, our hearts to the power, of that Self; to make the personal self fade away before, and disappear into, the higher Self. The understanding of this we have already; it remains to make it a living reality by the victories of the will; victories to be gained by steady, unrelaxed aspiration and determination. The tyrannous obstacles in time and space must be melted away and overcome; no mere lapse of time can accomplish this, for the illusion of time is one of the very obstacles in the path, and must fade away into the eternal now of the timeless, ever-living Self.

    The invocation is again followed by the teaching of three worlds, the three steps to the Self, in another form.

    Then comes a very curious and remarkable passage: “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 the birthplace of Indra.

    “And there, where the dividing of the hair turns round, extending upwards to the crown of the head

    To make this quite clear, we should have to touch on the question of the higher vestures of the Self, their intimate connection with the outermost vesture, and the centres or organs in the head through which the higher vestures come into actual relation with the outer, physical vesture; one organ being thus the outer doorway to the mid-world; the other, to the divine world of the causal, intuitional Self. Both doors must be opened from within; after the unity of the Self has been realized. Till this is done, till unity, the supreme talisman of safety, is won, any study of the “doors” is worse than useless.

    The rest of the chapter is a series of finger-points along the path of right understanding, toward the comprehension of unity.


No. 24—JUNE, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

THE EARLY RACES. pgs. 155-158
Vayu Purana: IX, 123-180.

WHEN these dwelling places were made, they also made houses; and as before they had tree-like dwellings, which served as houses for them;

    So, thinking the thing over again and again, they began to do this: as some of the branches were grown upwards, and as other branches were bent;

    And as some branches had grown straight, and others were crooked, thinking the thing over intelligently and entering into it, just as the branches of the tree grew;

    In the same way branches were bent by them, and thus they succeeded in making sheds and houses also.

    And they were called ‘sheds’ from the ‘shade’ of the branches,—this made them sheds; and as their minds were ‘complacent’ therein, and as they gave ‘complacency’ to their minds;

    Therefore, their houses and sheds were called ‘palaces;’ they made them to keep out extremes of heat and cold, and then bethought them of means of subsistence.

    When the ‘trees of the age,’ along with their honey, had disappeared, the people were afflicted by dejection, and troubled by hunger and thirst. Then an excellence of the second age presented itself to them in its turn; and this excellent,—rain when they wished for it,—provided them with another means of subsistence.

    The rainwater that collected in the hollows, came out as springs and streams and rivers, on account of the rain.

    Thus the rivers began to flow at the coming of the second gift, the outpouring of rain. Then the first drops of water reached the surface of the earth.

    And from this marriage of the waters and the earth, plants were born; and these plants produced flowers and roots and fruits.

    Without ploughing or sowing, fourteen kinds of garden and forest plants appeared, producing flowers and fruits in season; bushes and trees also appeared.

    This was the first birth of herbage in the second age; and on this herbage the people subsisted then, in the second age.

    Thereafter arose among them rage and greed on all hands; this was through a power beyond their control, through the power of the second age. Then they seized on the rivers and the fields and the hills; on the trees and bushes and plants also, each using force to the extent of his ability.

    These perfect selves whom I have spoken of before, in the first age, the mind-born sons of the Evolver, who came forth from the man-world;

    Who were quiet or fiery or busy or sorrowful, they, returning again, were born in the second age.

    They became Brahmans, Kshattrivas, Vaishyas, Shudras, and evil men; they took being according to their deeds in former births, whether fair or foul.

    They who had no force, but were yet truthful in conduct and harmless, whose greed was gone, who were self-conquered, dwelt among them. And others who had little light, seized on them, and oppressed them; then they came into opposition to each other.

    By their fault, as they quarrelled among themselves, the plants were destroyed; for they seized them in their fists as missiles.

    And the earth ate up, through the power of the age, the fourteen kinds of garden and forest plants; because they grasped at the fruit and the flowers and the leaves together.

    Then when they were destroyed, the people were famished, and they went to the Self-being, the Ruler, the Lord of beings, because they were afflicted with hunger;

    They went begging for subsistence, at the beginning of the second age. The Evolver, the Self-being, the gracious one, knew what were their thoughts;

    And perceiving by clear insight, by dire vision, what was right to be done, he again milked forth the plants that had been eaten up by the earth.

    With Sumeru as calf, he milked the earth; this cow then, through that milking, brought forth seeds upon the earth.

    And these seeds produced garden and forest plants once more; these were seventeen plants including hemp, which end when the

fruit ripens. . . . [The plants are enumerated.] These were produced at the beginning of the second age. Without ploughing or sowing grew these garden and forest plants on all sides; trees also, bushes, lianas, grasses, plants bearing roots and plants bearing leaves.

    They received those whose roots are their fruits, and those that bear fruit and flowers. These were milked from the earth of old by, the Self-being.

    Here on the earth grew these plants, bearing flowers and fruit in due season. Then these plants thus put forth grew no more.

    Then for subsistence for them, the Self-being again produced means of subsistence; the gracious one, the Evolver, devised subsistence for them, the fruit of their toil, born of work. Thenceforth plants sprang up after ploughing and sowing. So this means of subsistence of theirs became successful.

    The Self-being set limits for them, according to the tendencies that began to come forth in each relatively. Some among them rapacious and addicted to killing;

    Given to protect others,—these he ordained to be Kshattriyas. There were others who served these without fear.

    They, speaking truth and saying prayers with regularity,—became Brahmans. There were others of little vigor; theirs was the work of Vaishyas, appointed to them.

    They who, as cultivators, had wearied the earth and destroyed much, were called Vaishyas and became providers of substance.

    They who were sorrowful, who ran about busied with servile works; of little vigor, of little might, these he declared to be Shudras.
   
    Their works and duties the Evolver ordained to them. But after this system of four classes had been completely regulated.

    These people, becoming infatuated, fell away from their duties; not living according to the duties of their classes, they came into conflect.

    Becoming conscious that this was so, the Evolver, the Lord, ordained power, justice and war as the duty of the Kshattriyas.

    Then he appointed the rites of sacrifice, study, and the receipt of presents as sacred duties of Brahmans.

    Tending cattle, commerce, agriculture, he appointed as the duty of Vaishyas; arts, crafts, service, he ordained for the Shudras.
Brahmans, Kshattriyas and Vaishyas had to practice sacrifice, study and gifts alike.

    Having thus ordained their duties and works on earth, the Self-being further appointed to them abodes in other worlds for their perfection.

    To the ritual-practicing Brahmans was allotted the world of the Lord of beings; the world of the Sky-lord for Kshattriyas who turned not back in battle.

    The world of the storm gods for the Vaishyas who fulfill well their duties; the world of celestial nymphs for Shudras who adhere to their servile duties.

    Having allotted these abodes to the peoples who maintained the duties of their classes, he divided the classes into orders.

    In olden times, the Lord of beings instituted the four orders: householder, student, forest-dweller, wanderer.

    To those who fulfill not here the duties of their classes, those who abide in the four orders give the name of destroyers of works.

    The Evolver established the four orders, each according to its name; to make them more intelligible, he declared their duties.

    He declared also their methods of procedure and various rites. First the order of householder, belonging to all the four classes;

    It is the foundation and source of the three other orders, them I shall declare with the duties of each.

No. 24—JUNE, I895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

LOVERS OF THE EAST. pgs.158-160
HENRY THOMAS COLEBROOKE.
1765-1837.

A SATIRICAL critic of our orientalists once said that their capacity, like the Word divine in the heavens, had three grades: they could edit a text supremely well; they could translate it indifferently well; they could elucidate it quite the reverse of well; or, in other words, their elucidations brought not light, but rather darkness visible.

    The same critic went on to compare these grades of capability with the three vestures of the Self; the text was the physical vesture, hence they of the waking, physical world were supremely competent to deal with the text; the translation required a reflecting of the text in the mirror-world, the world between earth and heaven, to which these hardened students had but faulty access: the elucidating of the text required something more, it required an assimilating of the thought and inspiration that had brought the  theological or scientific or material crystallization, which is the most hopeless of all conditions of life, however great be the beauty of the crystal. We are far from agreeing with this view in its totality, as a great many of our scholars are by no means so competent to edit a text as this critic supposes, while some of them in rare and high moments, do really rise to the full inspiration of the original.

    But broadly, and applied to scholars of the better sort, this criticism is very just. They are infinitely more competent to edit a text than to understand it, if it deals with high aspirations and inspirations; for the scholar’s nature,—profound appreciation of the letter,—is the very opposite of inspiration which is of the spirit. And the followers of inspiration generally seek it at first-hand, in the divine things of to-day, not at second-hand, in the records of the divine things of long ago. The real path of safety combines both of these ways. Gain wisdom, inspiration, for yourself; compare it, complete it, by a study of the wisdom of others, of the whole human race,—the best that has been thought since the world began.

    To do this, one must first know accurately what the long ago world did think; for this, we must search its records, edit its texts, and gain a very precise knowledge of the meaning and value of its words; in other words, we must thoroughly master the letter, before we can really enter into the spirit. Here is the value of Colebrooke’s work in Oriental, and especially in Sanskrit studies: he was the first student to apply to Sanskrit a really sound, scholarly, honest and accurate method; the first to seize, with vivid force, the idea of seeing the texts as they really are; of finding out what their words actually mean; of ascertaining the real values of forms, technical phrases, turns of expressions, grammatical changes and the like.

    Hence no one can neglect Colebrooke and his work, when speaking of a really sound study of Sanskrit. Brahma is called the grandfather of the universe; Colebrooke has an equal right to be called the grandfather of Sanskrit dictionaries and grammars.
Like Anquetil Duperron and Sir William Jones, Colebrooke opened the door of the East with the key of the Persian language, which was then, far more than now, the tongue of Asiatic diplomacy and intercourse. It was only in 1793, after eleven years’ residence in India, that he began to study Sanskrit. And, from the very first, the outward forms of things seemed to have interested him far more than the spirit; he studied almost everything Indian but the one thing supremely worth studying, the sane and high philosophy of old Vedic days, with its lofty inspiration and profound intuition.

    A critical Grammar and dictionary of Sanskrit, learned studies of Hind law, of the algebra of the Hindus, and a series of miscellaneous essays touching on numberless subjects of curious and interesting research, as well as an account of Hindu religious ceremonies, are set to his credit; but far the most valuable part of his work is the ascertaining of the exact forms and meanings of Sanskrit words, so abundantly contributed to by his dictionary and grammatical labors. The true work of understanding the texts and drawing out their real value for our own use, only begins where this dictionary and grammar work ends; but without this clearing and measuring of the foundations, no inhabitable house of eastern knowledge could be built. Here is Colebrooke’s translation of a famous Vedic hymn:

    “Then there was no entity nor nonentity; no world, nor sky, nor ought above it; nothing anywhere in the happiness of anyone, involving or involved; nor water deep and dangerous. Death was not; nor then was immortality; nor distinction of day or night. But THAT breathed without afflation, single with her who is within him. Other than him, nothing existed which since has been. Darkness there was; for this Universe was enveloped with darkness, and was undistinguishable like fluids mixed in waters; but that mass, which was covered by the husk, was at length produced by the power of contemplation. First, desire was formed in his mind, and that became the original productive seed; which the wise, recognizing it by the intellect in their hearts, distinguish in non-entity. Did the luminous ray of these creative acts expand in the middle? or above? or below? That productive seed at once became providence (or sentient souls) and matter (Or the elements): she, who is sustained within himself, was superior. Who knows exactly, and who shall in this world declare, whence and why this creation took place? The gods are subsequent to the production of this world; then who can know whence it proceeded? or whence this varied world arose? or whether it upholds itself or not? He who in the highest heaven is the ruler of this universe, does indeed know; but not another can possess this knowledge.”

 
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.

    KNOW Self as Master of the Chariot, and body as the chariot; Know Soul as Charioteer, Mind also as the reins.
The powers, they call the horses, sensuous things their roads; Self-powers-Mind united—this, say the wise, is the Enjoyer.
        He who is not full of knowledge, with Mind ever ununited;
                His powers are unswayed, like the charioteer’s unruly horses.
        But he who is full of knowledge, with Mind ever united;
                His powers are swayed, like the charioteer’s well-ruled horses.
    He who is not full of knowledge, with Mind unruled, ever impure; He gains not that Rest,—he returns to circling birth and death.

    But he who is full of knowledge, with Mind well ruled, ever pure; He gains that Rest wherefrom his is not born again.

    He who firmly grasps Mind, the reins, like a charioteer full of knowledge; He gains the Path,—that supreme Rest of the pervading Power.

    Than the powers, the impulses are higher; than the impulses Mind is higher; Than Mind, Soul is higher; than Soul is higher the great Self.

    Than the great Self, the Unmanifest is higher; than the Unmanifest, Spirit is higher;

    Than Spirit, none is higher at all; this is the end, the supreme way.

No. 25—SEPTEMBER--OCTOBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

THE LOTUS OF THE BLISS OF THE ETERNAL. pgs. 162-166
Taittiriya Upanishad.
II.

THE KNOWER of the Eternal obtains the supreme; therefore this is declared: Real, wisdom, endless is the Eternal; he who knows that, hid in the secret place, in the supreme firmament of the heart, he obtains all desires through the Eternal that is wisdom.

    From that, verily, from this Self, shining-ether was brought forth; from shining-ether, breath; from breath, fire; from fire,
the waters ; from the waters, earth.

    From earth, growths; from growths, food; from food, seed; from seed, man.

    He verily, this man, is formed of the essence of food. His head is here; his right side, here; his left side, here; this is himself; this is his basis and support.

    As this verse declares:
    From food, verily, beings are born,—whatsoever beings dwell on the earth; then by food they live, and to food also they go, at
the end.

    For food is the eldest of beings, therefore it is called the cause of all growth; they all gain food, who worship food as the
Eternal.

    Food is the eldest of beings, therefore it is called the cause of all growth :—from food, beings are born; when born, they increase by food; beings are eaten and eat; therefore this is called food that is eaten.

    But besides this, formed of the essence of food, there is another inner self, life-formed.

    By this, that other is filled; and this, verily, is of the nature of man,—according to the manlike nature of that other, this also
is of the nature of man.

    Of this life-formed self, the forward-life is the head; the distributing-life is the right side; the downward-life is the left side ; the ether is the self; the earth, the basis and support.

    As this verse declares:
    By life, the bright ones live, and men and cattle also; life verily is the life of beings, and therefore it is called the cause of
all life.


   
They verily reach completed life, who worship life as the Eternal.

    This, verily, is the embodied, self of that which comes before it.

    But besides this, the life-formed, there is another inner self, mind-formed.

    By this, that other is filled; and this, verily, is of the nature of man,—according to the manlike nature of that other, this also is of the nature of man.

    Of this mind-formed self, the Yajur, verily, is the head; the Rig, the right side; the Sama, the left side; instruction the self; Atharva-Angirasa the basis and support.

    As this verse declares:
    That from which voices turn back without gaining it, and mind; knowing that bliss of the Eternal, he fears not for evermore.

    This, verily, is the embodied self of that which comes before it.

    But besides this, the mind-formed, there is another inner self, knowledge-formed.

    By this, that other is filled; and this, verily, is of the nature of man,—according to the manlike nature of that other, this also is of the nature of man.

    Of this knowledge-formed self, faith is the head; righteousness, the right side; reality is the left side; union is the self; the world-soul is the basis and support.

    As this verse declares:
    Knowledge draws forth sacrifice, it draws forth works also; knowledge all the ‘bright ones worship, as the eldest, the Eternal.
    If he knows knowledge as the Eternal, if he wanders not from this; in the body, putting off all darkness, he attains all his desires.

    This, verily, is the embodied self of that which comes before it.

    But besides this, the knowledge-formed, there is another inner self, bliss-formed.

    By this, that other is filled; and this, verily, is of the nature of man,—according to the manlike nature of that other, this also is of the nature of man.


   
Of this bliss-formed self, what is dear is the head; joy is the right side; rejoicing, the left side; bliss, the self; the Eternal, the basis and support.

    As this verse declares:
    Being non-being, verily, this comes into being; he who knows the Eternal as non-being,—if he knows that the Eternal yet really is,—him they know as really being.

    This is, verily, the embodied self of what goes before it.

    Then there are these questions: whether he who has not attained wisdom, on going forth from this world goes to that world; and whether he who has attained wisdom, on going forth from this world, attains that world.

    He formed the desire: Let me become great, let me produce beings. He brooded with fervor; having brooded with fervor, he put forth all this existence, whatsoever exists. Having put forth this, he went forth after it, and entered into it. Having gone forth after it and entered into it, he became the real and the outward; the defined and the undefined; the encompassed and the unencompassed; knowledge and unknowledge; reality and the untrue. He became all that depends on the real, whatsoever there is. Therefore they call this dependent on reality.

    As this verse declares
    Non-being was this, verily, in the beginning.
    Therefrom being was born. This he made as himself. Therefore this is called well made. And as this is well made, therefore it is excellent in essence. He, verily, who has gained this essence, becomes full of bliss. For who would live, who would breathe, if this shining-ether were not bliss? This therefore is the cause of bliss.

    For when he finds the fearless, the resting-place in this invisible, selfless, undefined, unencompassed being, then he is one who has gained the fearless.

    But he who makes for himself antagonism in this being, for him fear is ; fear is his who sees and believes thus.

    As this verse declares:
    Through fear of that, Breath blows; through fear of that, rises the Sun; through fear of that, Fire and Moon; and Death runs as fifth.

    This, therefore, is the measuring of bliss:
    Let there be a youth of excellent nature and fully accomplished, well taught, full of firmness and power; let this whole earth be full of riches for him. This is one human bliss.

    And if there be a hundred measures of such human bliss, this is one bliss of the celestial singers of human form, or of a sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of celestial singers of human form, this is one bliss of the divine celestial singers, or of a sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of divine celestial singers, this is one bliss of the fathers who dwell in the long-lasting world, or of a sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of the fathers who dwell in the long-lasting world, this is one bliss of the divine beings born in the birth-world, or of a sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of the divine beings born in the birth-world, this is one bliss of the divine formative beings,—those who through works ascend to the divine beings,—or of a sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of the divine formative beings, this is one bliss of the pure divine beings, or of the sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of the pure divine beings, this is one bliss of the Sky-lord Indra, or of the sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of the Sky-lord Indra, this is one bliss of the great lord of Vrhaspati, or of the sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of the great lord Vrhaspati, this is one bliss of the lord of beings, Prajapati, or of the sage who has ceased from desire.

    And if there be a hundred measures of the bliss of the lord of beings, Prajapati, this is one bliss of the Eternal, or of the sage who has ceased from desire.

    And the power that is here, in man, and the power that is there, in the sun, is one and the same.

He who knows thus, on going forth from this world reaches and is united with the self formed of the essence of food; he reaches and is united with the life-formed self; he reaches and is united with the mind-formed self; he reaches and is united with the knowledge-formed self; he reaches and is united with the bliss-formed self.


   
As this verse declares:
    That from which voices turn back without reaching it, and mind also,—knowing that bliss of the Eternal, he fears nothing any more.

    This thought no longer burns in him:
    What have I not done well, what have I done ill?
    He who knows thus, embraces them as Self; he embraces them both as Self, who knows thus. Thus the Book of Hidden Wisdom.

No. 25—SEPTEMBER--OCTOBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

THE FIVE VEILS OF THE SELF. pgs. 167-170
In the Taittiriya Upanishad: II.

WHO could live, who could breathe, if that shining-ether were not bliss?
    This sentence strikes the note of the teaching, that has been called the Lotus of the bliss of the Eternal.

    It contains two distinct chapters or phases of those instructions which are spoken of as following and crowning the four Vedas. The first phase is the teaching of emanations; the second is the teaching of the five veils of the Self, or, as they are called here, the five inner selves. But, by some accident of memory or arrangement, the second part of the teaching of emanation has been divided from the first by a long intervening section on the five veils, which, again, is separated by a section on cosmogony, from the verses that form its legitimate conclusion. This separation and intermingling of incongruous material is, perhaps, the result of accident; perhaps the result of design,—a simple expedient to turn away at the outset students whose sole motive is curiosity, or who “having no depth of earth” will bear only a swiftly growing, swiftly withering crop of good intentions.

    But if this be the design, it is so transparent that one needs only to rearrange the sections to give the teaching perfect sequence and lucidity. First, the teaching of emanations.

    “Being unmanifest, verily, That comes into manifestation; he who knows the Eternal as unmanifest, and yet knows that the Eternal is, him they know as really being.

    “He formed the desire: let me become great, let me produce beings. He brooded with fervor. Having brooded with fervor, he put forth all this, whatsoever exists. Having put forth this, he went forth after it, and entered into it.

    “From this Self, verily, shining-ether was brought forth; from shining-ether, breath; from breath, fire; from fire, the waters; from the waters, earth;

    “From earth, growths; from growths, food; from food, seed; from seed, man.”

    Here, as everywhere in the Books of Hidden Wisdom, there is a very clear sevenfold classification; the seven outward stages of manifestation: The Eternal, Manifestation or the Voice, Ether, Air, Fire, Waters, Earth.
Then again, a return along these stages back toward the unmanifested; with Man as the fifth stage of the homeward journey.

   
Then the second division of this chapter, the teaching of the five veils of the Self, or the five inner selves; again requiring the paragraphs to be arranged, and no more, in order to make the instructions perfectly clear, regular, and symmetrical. The five veils are described thus:

    “First, the inner self formed of the essence of food,”—the form of the body of man. It is clearly not the physical body, for, later on, we are told that, on “going forth “from the physical body, the man first reaches and is united with this inner self of the essence of food. This “going forth” has evidently two meanings, here as elsewhere; it is either the upward return of death, after a single life, or it is the far greater upward return, after the whole circle of births and rebirths; the great upward return to the Eternal, along the “small old path, stretching far away; the path that the sages tread,” as another Book of Hidden Wisdom calls it.

    Then, after this form of the body of man, comes the next veil of the Self, the next inner self:

    “The life-formed self; by this life-formed self the form of the body is filled; it is also of the shape of man,
according to the manlike shape of the other, this is also of the shape of man.”

    This vital self or vital veil contains the five-fold life: the upward-life, uniting-life, forward-life, distributing-life, downward-life. And this vital self is the self embodied in the preceding formal self.

    Then above this vital self, and embodied in it, comes the emotional self or the mind-formed self, as it is here called; the veil of the impulses that set the vital forces in action.

    The comparison of these impulses with the four Vedas and the secret instructions as fifth, is not so fanciful as it at first sight seems, because the songs, hymns, chants, and charms of the Vedas were considered as impulses and forces, set in motion by the worshippers, and impelling the “gods” to bring to the worshippers a desired return in the form of some satisfaction or gratification. These gratifications, in far the greater number of cases, were “sons, grandsons of a hundred years, horses and elephants and gold;” the chief utility of the sons and grandsons being to pray their progenitor into paradise, and keep him there by the force of their yearly rites.

    Therefore the comparison of the Vedic songs and chants and charms with the impulses of the body of desire is far more just than a first glance shows. As before, this self of impulse is embodied in the vital self that precedes it.

    Within this self of impulse, again, another inner self is embodied; the knowledge-formed self, the knowledge-formed veil of the self. It is the knowing apprehending part of man; the part that stands above the impulses, and gradually comes to comprehend their meaning, direction, and tendency, so that, in due time, these impulses and forces may be turned to the purposes of of the Self. The five elements of this inner self, as understood by the teachers of this book of hidden wisdom, are: faith, righteousness, reality, union, the approach to the world-soul. They make up the inner sense of the trueness of things and the real values of things; and especially the sense of the truth that the self is one with the Self; that the individual is one with the Supreme. The end of this knowledge, we are told, is the putting off of all darkness while in the body, so that, on going forth, the Eternal may be attained. This knowledge-formed self is embodied in the self that precedes it,—the self of impulse and desire.

    Within, above it, is the bliss-formed self, whose parts are joy, gladness, rejoicing and bliss; whose proper home is the Eternal. From the Supreme Self it is divided only by the thinnest vesture of illusion, the illusion of separateness from the Eternal.

    Then the five veils: formal, vital, impulsive, intellectual, spiritual. They very evidently correspond with the form, vitality, body of desire, mind, and soul, of another sevenfold classification; but their relation to the more usual threefold or fourfold division of the Upanishads is not so immediately evident.

    This threefold division that has already been examined at great length is of course that of the three fires, the three vestures, the three selves, the three worlds.

    Taking the last, the three worlds, we find that they are often spoken of as earth, mid-world and heaven; or again, as earth, the waters, and radiance; or, yet again, as waking, dreaming, and dreamless intuition.

    How, then, are the five veils of the Self, the five-inner selves of the present teaching, to be correlated with these three worlds so often found in other teachings? Apparently in this way: to the outermost of the three worlds belongs one veil; to the innermost also one; to the midmost, three, Of these three, the lower is a reflection of the outermost world in the waters, from below; while the higher is a reflection of the highest world, from above. Thus the formal body, the formal veil, of the fivefold series belongs to the lowest and outermost of the three worlds,—earth, or waking, physical life.

    The vital body is a reflection of this in the mid-world, the mirror-world of the “waters;” it shares the nature of the world of the “waters” in the ebb and flow of vital life; it bears the imprint and reflection of the outermost world, as “after the manlike shape of the formal body it has a manlike shape.”

    The emotional, mental veil, the mid-formed, the body of desire, is most characteristic of the mind-world, the world of the waters, and shares its proper nature. Like the waves and currents of the waters, the impulses ebb and flow, rise and fall, flow this way and that; and this fugitive, fleeting nature of theirs is very well brought out in the philosophical definition of mind. What is mind? it is asked, in Shankara’s Catechism; and the answer is, Mind is that which intends and doubts ;—which builds together and unbuilds again,—to give the words their strictest and most simple meaning. It is, of course, clear that this is a quite different use of the word “mind,” from that which would identify it with spirit; so that, perhaps, it would be better invariably to use some word like emotion or impulse, which really build up and unbuild again, and to avoid the word “mind” altogether.

    Then the knowledge-formed veil, also belonging to the middle world, but being a reflection in it of the pure intuition of the third and divine world above; this makes up the three veils that belong to the mid-world of the waters, of dream, of fluid life; one reflected from below, one from above, one between these two.

    To the divine world belongs the last veil, the bliss-formed; because bliss is part of the proper nature of the divine world, as are also eternity and wisdom; the opposite of these, misery, death, ignorance, being no more than abnormal, unnatural departures from the divine world, and exclusions of the divine world.

    Separated by “the measuring of bliss” from the rest of the teaching of the five veils, stands a paragraph, whose true place is clearly immediately after the teaching of the veils, in answer to the questions as to those “who have gone forth,” and the worlds they reach. “He who knows this, on going forth, reaches successively and is united with the formal self, the vital self, the emotional self, the intellectual self, the blissful self “.

    The “measuring of bliss” seems to embody a teaching of the worlds above the human world, and the lives and dwellers therein; it may well be compared with the Buddhist teaching on the same question, that follows the teaching of the Noble Eightfold Path.
Then the conclusion of this, as of every teaching, the divine Self “from which voice turns back, and mind also, without reaching it; knowing that bliss of the Eternal, he fears nothing any more.”

No. 25—SEPTEMBER--OCTOBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

THE NOBLE EIGHTFOLD PATH. pgs.171-175
From the Buddhist ‘Dharma Chakra Pravarttana Sutra; circa ‘B.C. 300.

THERE are two extremes, Brothers, that he who has renounced should shun.

    On the one side, the constant following after things that appeal to lust and sensuality,— a low, bestial way, unworthy, unprofitable, fit only for the profane;

    And, on the other side, the constant following after penance that is painful, unworthy, unprofitable.

    There is a middle path, Brothers, that shuns these two extremes; a path found out by him who has come as others came before; a path that opens the eyes and gives understanding; a path that brings restfulness of mind, supreme wisdom, full enlightenment, Nirvana.

    What then is this middle path, Brothers, that shuns these two extremes; the path found out by him who has come as others came before; the path that opens the eyes and gives understanding; the path that brings restfulness of mind, supreme wisdom, full enlightenment, Nirvana?

    It is, verily, the Noble Eightfold Path; it is this:
Right seeing, right willing, right speaking, right behaving, right living, right striving, right concentrating, right meditating.

    This is the middle path, Brothers, that shuns the two extremes; the path found out by him who has come as others came before; the path that opens the eyes and gives understanding; the path that brings restfulness of mind, supreme wisdom full enlightenment, Nirvana.

    This, Brothers, is the noble truth about sorrow:
Birth is full of sorrow, decay is full of sorrow, sickness is full of sorrow, death is full of sorrow.

    Contact with the pleasant is full of sorrow, separation from the unpleasant is full of sorrow, unsatisfied longing is full of sorrow. In a word the five groups of grasping are full of sorrow.

    This, Brothers, is the noble truth about sorrow.
    And this, Brothers, is the noble truths about the cause of sorrow:
    It is, verily, the thirst that causes outward existence, accompanied by sensual enjoyment, seeking gratification now here, now there; it is the thirst for the gratification of desire, the thirst for outward existence, the thirst for present existence.

    This, Brothers, is the noble truth about the cause of sorrow.
And this, Brothers, is the noble truth about the ceasing of sorrow:

    It is, verily, the destroying, without any remnant of lust, of that same thirst; the putting away of, the getting rid of, the being free from, the ceasing to entertain this thirst.

    This, Brothers, is the noble truth about the ceasing of sorrow.
And this, Brothers, is the noble truth about the path that leads to the ceasing of sorrow. It is, verily, the Noble Eightfold Path; it is this:

    Right seeing, right willing, right speaking, right behaving, right living, right striving, right concentrating, right meditating.
This, Brothers, is the noble truth about the destroying of sorrow.

II.

    That this was the noble truth about sorrow was not, Brothers, among the teachings handed down; but within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light. And again, Brothers, that I should understand that this was the noble truth about sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light. And again, Brothers, that I had understood that this was the noble truth about sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this light.

    That this, Brothers, was the noble truth about the cause of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light. And again, Brothers, that I should rid myself of the cause of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    And again, Brothers, that I had rid myself altogether of the cause of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    That this, Brothers, was the noble truth about the ceasing of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    And again, Brothers, that I should bring about the ceasing of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within rue arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    And again, Brothers, that I had brought about the ceasing of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within ‘me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    That this, Brothers, was the noble truth about the path that leads to the ceasing of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    And again, Brothers, that I should become master of the path that leads to the ceasing of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    And again, Brothers, that I had become master of the path that leads to the ceasing of sorrow, although it was not among the teachings handed down, within me arose this insight, within me arose this knowledge, within me arose this understanding, within me arose this wisdom, within me arose this light.

    And, Brothers, as long as my knowledge and insight were not quite clear about each of these four noble truths in these three
degrees, so long I was uncertain that I had gained full insight into the wisdom that is unexcelled in heaven or earth, among all ascetics or priests or gods or men.

    But, Brothers, as soon as my knowledge and insight became quite clear about each of these tour noble truths in these three degrees, then I became certain that I had gained full insight into the wisdom that is unexcelled in heaven or earth, among all ascetics or priests or gods or men.

    And now this knowledge and insight have arisen within me; the freedom of my heart is unshakeable; this is the end of birth and death for me.

III.

    Thus the Master spoke. The company of the five brothers, rejoicing, praised the Master’s words. And when the teaching had been declared, there arose within the sage Kondanya the insight of truth, spotless and stainless, that whatever has a beginning in that also lies the necessity of having an end,

    And when that royal chariot wheel of the law had been set forward by the Master, the bright ones of the earth cried out and said:
In Varanasi—Benares—at the refuge Migadaya, the supreme wheel of the law has been set forward by the Master,—the wheel that can never be turned back by ascetic or priest, by bright one or god or demon, or any power in the whole world.

    And when they heard the cry of the bright ones of the earth, the bright ones of the four regents of space cried out and said:
In Varanasi, at the refuge Migadaya, the supreme wheel of, the law has been set forward by the Master,—the wheel that can never be turned back by ascetic or priest, by bright one or god or demon, or any power in the whole world.

    And when they heard the cry of the bright ones of the four regents of space, the bright ones of the lord of death cried out and said:
In Varanasi, at the refuge Migadaya, the supreme wheel of the law has been set forward by the Master,—the wheel that can never be turned back by ascetic or priest, by bright one or god or demon, or any power in the whole world.

    And when they heard the cry of the bright ones of the lord of death, the bright ones of the place of bliss cried out and said:


    In Varanasi, at the refuge Migadaya, the supreme wheel of the law has been set forward by the Master,—the wheel that can never be turned back by ascetic or priest, by bright one or god or demon, or any power in the whole world.

    And when they heard the cry of the bright ones of the place of bliss, the bright ones of the world of built-up vestures cried out and said:

    In Varanasi, at the refuge Migadaya, the supreme wheel of the law has been set forward by the Master,—the wheel that can never be turned back by ascetic or priest, by bright one or god or demon, or any power in the whole world.

    And when they heard the cry of the bright ones of the world of built-up vestures, the bright ones of the world of divinely formed vestures cried out and said:

    In Varanasi, at the refuge Migadaya, the supreme wheel of the law has been set forward by the Master,— the wheel that can never be turned back by ascetic or priest, by bright one or god or demon, or any power in the whole world.

    And when they heard the cry of the bright ones of the world of divinely formed vestures, the bright ones of the vesture of the Evolver cried out and said:

    In Varanasi, at the refuge Migadaya, the supreme wheel of the law has been set forward by the Master,—the wheel that can never be turned back by ascetic or priest, by bright one or god or demon, or any power in’ the whole world.

    Thus, in an instant, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, the cry went up even to the world of the Evolver, and this great system of myriad worlds shook and trembled and was violently moved, and a bright, measureless light appeared in the world, stronger even than the power of the gods.

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.

Nor EARTH nor water, fire nor liquid air,
Nor ether, nor the powers, nor these in one;
Undifferentiated, in dreamless perfect test,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor castes nor their divisions, rite nor rule,
Are mine, nor fixing mind and thought and mood;
No longer dreaming things not Self art ‘I’ and ‘mine,’
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor mother, father, nor the gods and worlds,
Nor Scriptures, offerings, shrines are there, they say,
In dreamlessness abandoned by the lonely Self;
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor sectary of Cause or Lord or Life
Knows That, nor follower of Saint or Rite,
In perfect union, pure of all but Self,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor upward, downward, nor within, without;
Nor midward, backward, That, nor east nor west;
All-present everywhere in part-less unity,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor white nor black nor yellow, That, nor red;
Nor small nor very great nor short nor long;
Formless, yet like a light, a star;
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor teacher, teaching, learner, what is learned;
Nor thou nor I nor this expanded world;
Conscious of its own form, from error free,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor waking, mine, nor dream, nor dreamless sleep;
Nor fire of life or heart or seeing soul;
These three are of unwisdom; but the fourth,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Even expanded for the sake of Self,—
Self, that, still perfect, on no other rests,—
All the wide world beside is little worth.
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor is this first with any second to it;
Nor lonely this, nor yet has it compeers;
Nor is this secondless One void or filled with aught;
How shall I tell this perfect wisdom’s crowd.

 


No. 26—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

THE DREAM OF LIFE. p.177

DREAM, wherein the Self is mirrored, has two, powers,—to extend and to envelope; enveloping the habitual self and its world, it extends a new self and life instead.

    They remain only so long as the dream lasts, and are the mirror-self and the mirror-world; nor, when one has awakened from one dream, are they ever the same in another dream.

    The mirror-self believes its mirror-world to be real; but the habitual-self knows them both to be unreal.

    The habitual-self believes its habitual-world to be real; but the supreme Self knows them both to be unreal.

    The supreme Self knows its oneness with the supreme Eternal; and sees nothing apart from the Eternal except the unreality of all else.
                                                                                                  ( From the Vakyasudha. )

No. 26—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

THE LOTUS OF THE SAGE BHRGU.
Taittiriya Upanishad.
III.
INVOCATION.
pgs.178-181

OM. MAY That guard us two—teacher and pupil; may That save us two; may we two do the work with valor; may we be full of radiance; may the lesson be well learned; may no discord arise to separate us. Om. Peace; Peace; Peace.

    Bhrgu was Varuna’s son; he came up to his father Varuna: Master, teach me the Eternal, said he.

    The world-food, the breath, the seeing, the hearing, mind, the voice,—he answered him,—That from which these beings are born, That by which when born they live, That to which they go forward and enter it completely, try to find out That for yourself,—That is the Eternal.

    He brooded fervently; and, brooding fervently, he thought: the world-food is the Eternal; for it is exactly from the world- food that these beings are born; by the world-food, when born, they live; the world-food they go forward to and enter it completely. And, thinking thus, he again came up to his father Varuna: Master, teach me the Eternal, said he. The Master answered him: try to find out the Eternal for yourself by brooding fervently, for the Eternal is fervent brooding.

    He brooded fervently; and, brooding fervently, he thought: the breath is the Eternal; for it is exactly from the breath that these beings are born; by breath, when born, they live; breath they go forward to, and enter into it completely. And, thinking thus, he again came up to his father Varuna: Master, teach me the Eternal, said he. The Master answered him: try to find out the Eternal for yourself by brooding fervently, for the Eternal is fervent brooding.

    He brooded fervently, and, brooding fervently, he thought: mind is the Eternal; for it is exactly from mind that these beings are born; by mind, when born, they live; mind they go forward to, and enter it completely. And, thinking thus, he again came up to his father Varuna: Master, teach me the Eternal, said he. The Master answered him: Try to find out the Eternal for yourself by brooding fervently, for the Eternal is fervent brooding.

    He brooded fervently, and, brooding fervently, he thought: the soul that knows is the Eternal; for it is exactly from the soul that knows that these beings are born; by the soul that knows, when born, they live; the soul that knows, they go forward to, and enter it completely. And, thinking thus, he again came up to his father Varuna: Master, teach me the Eternal, said he. The Master answered him: Try to find out the Eternal for yourself by brooding fervently, for the Eternal is fervent brooding.

    He brooded fervently; and, brooding fervently, he thought; Bliss is the Eternal; for it is exactly from bliss that these beings are born; by bliss, when born, they live; bliss they go forward to, and enter it completely.

    This is that teaching of the sage Bhrgu the son of Varuna; this stands firm in the supreme holy ether. He who knows thus, stands firm. Possessing the world-food, he becomes a consumer of the world-food. He becomes mighty through offspring, flocks, radiance of the Eternal, mighty in renown.

    Let him not reproach the world-food; this is the sacred vow. For the breath is verily the world-food; the body is a consumer of the world-food; in the breath the body rest firmly; in the body the breath rests firmly. Thus the world-food rests firmly in the world-food. He who knows the world-food thus resting firmly in the world-food, himself stands firm. Possessing the world-food, he becomes an eater of the world-food; he becomes mighty through offspring, flocks, radiance of the Eternal, mighty in renown.

    Let him not overlook the world-food; this is the sacred vow. For the waters verily are the world-food; the fire is a consumer of the world-food; in the waters the fire rests secure; in the fire the waters rest secure; thus the world-food rests secure in the world-food. He who thus knows the world-food resting secure in the world-food, he himself rests secure. Possessing the world-food, he becomes an eater of the world-food; he becomes mighty through offspring, flocks, radiance of the Eternal, mighty in renown.

    Let him magnify the world-food; this is the sacred vow. For the earth is the world-food; the shining ether is a consumer of the world-food; in the earth the shining ether rests secure. In the shining ether the earth rests secure; thus the world-food rests securely in the world-food. He who thus knows the world-food resting secure in the world-food, he becomes an eater of the world-food; he becomes mighty through offspring, flocks, radiance of the Eternal, mighty in renown.

    Let him not refuse to any a part in the habitation; this is the sacred vow. Therefore, by whatever practice, let a man gain the world-food abundantly. The world-food has been made ready for him,—thus they say. This world-food has, verily, been made ready from the head; from the head for him it is made ready. This world-food has, verily, been made ready from the middle; from the middle for him it is made ready. This world food has, verily, been made ready from the end, from the end, verily, for him it is made ready.

    He who knows thus: as power, this is in the voice; as possessions, in the forward breath and downward breath; as work, in the hands; as going, in the two feet; as putting forth in the power that puts forth; these are the human names of That. Then as to the names of the shining powers: as fulness, this is in the rain; as force, in the lightning; as well-being, in the flocks; as light, in the houses of the stars; as lord of being, immortality and bliss, in the power that generates; as the all in the shining ether.

            Let him draw near, saying: this is the secure resting place. He gains a secure resting place.
            Let him draw near, saying: this is the mighty. He becomes mighty.
            Let him draw near, saying: this is mind. He becomes possessed of mind.
            Let him draw near, saying: this is the power that bends. His desires are bent before him.
            Let him draw near, saying: this is the Eternal. He becomes full of the Eternal.
            Let him draw near, saying: this is the Eternals destroying power. His enemies who dwell within his house are destroyed, and the Sons of his brothers who are not dear to him.

    The power that is here in the spirit, and the power that is there in the sun—that power is one.

            He who thus knows—on going forth from this world, he departs toward, and reaches, the self formed of the world-food;
            He departs toward, and reaches, the self formed of breath;
            He departs toward, and reaches, the self formed of mind;
            He departs toward, and reaches, the self formed of the soul that knows:
    He departs toward, and reaches, the self formed of bliss. Passing through these worlds, possessing the world-food according to his desire, taking forms according to his desire, he dwells there, singing this song of oneness.

    Wonder, wonder, wonder; I am the world-food, I am the world food, I am the world-food;

            I am the eater of the world-food, I am the eater of the world-food, I am the eater of the world-food.
            I am the maker of the song, I am the maker of the song, I am the maker of the song.
            I am the first born of the true;
            Before the shining powers, in the heart of the immortal.
            He who gives me the world-food, he verily preserves me here;
            I, as the world-food, destroy him who gives not the world-food
            I have perfectly become all that is;
            I am full of golden light; he who thus knows—
            Thus the teaching of hidden wisdom.

INVOCATION.

May That guard us two; may That save us two; may we two do the work with valor; may we be full of radiance; may the lesson be well learned; may no discord arise to separate us.
Om. Peace; Peace; Peace.

   
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. 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.

No. 26—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

THE FOOD OF THE WORLD. pgs. 184-182
Taittiriya Upanishad, 111.

THE third part of this Book of Hidden Wisdom, like the first two, thoroughly suggests to us that it is a manual or first lesson-book for students of the mysteries, or rather a series of fragments from an old lesson-book, mutilated either by the hand of time or the hand of the restrictor of knowledge. It is to be studied by the teacher and pupil together; this is the meaning of the invocation: May That, the nameless Eternal, guard us two; may we be full of radiance; may no discord arise to keep us apart.

    For there can be no teaching until the pupil has thought and lived himself into the spirit of the master; no beginning of the teaching until the pupil finds himself already doing, though with imperfect light, the same great work that the master has already long been doing with valor and perfect wisdom.

    The lesson here is the parable of an ideal teacher and his pupil; a form of teaching used everywhere through these books, as where Death teaches Nachiketas; where the kingly sage teaches Uddalaka; where Uddalaka teaches his son; where Pippalada teaches his six pupils. The teacher, the higher Self, or one in whom the higher Self is absorbed, and brightly shining; the pupil, the habitual self, reaching up toward the higher Self, and striving, above all things, to let no discord keep him apart from the higher Self.

    Here the teacher is Varuna, the old god of the ocean of space; the pupil, the sage Bhrgu, after whom the whole section of teaching is named. The teacher answered his appeal for wisdom thus: That from which the five outward elements are born, whereby they live, where again they return, that is the Eternal;—try to find it but for yourself.

    The pupil, following this excellent counsel, set himself to find out the Eternal for himself; he made his thought flow outwards to the world without him, then return within him, to become conscious of its own being; he let the Self which is wisdom do its own work in the secret place of the heart; or, to use the quaint phrase of the old book, he brooded fervently.

    The world-food, he thought, must be the Eternal; the wonder-full stuff, whatever it be, that pictorial outer things are built up of; the substance of the sun and stars, the mountains and rivers, the sky and sea.

    But the master sent him back again to learn the lesson, neither saying that this world-food, the strange substance of outward things, is the Eternal, nor that it is not the Eternal. His answer drove the pupil again within himself, and withdrawing again to the secret place of the heart, he grew to feel that that strange substance of outward things and appearances is not the all in all; that there are other powers moving this and breathing through it; or, in the words we are used to, that matter is not a reality, a thing in itself, but only the hiding place of force; that the atoms of matter are not absolute, but only centres of force. But we will keep to the old picturesque speech of Bhrgu; the world-food is not all; there is the breath that lives and breathes through the world-food; the breath must be the Eternal.

    Again the Master, neither denying nor affirming, sent the pupil back to brood once more within himself. Growing more vividly conscious within, he saw that this vivid emotion and feeling of his were a greater reality even than the breath; that they were nearer to him, known at first hand, while the world-food and the breath were known only outwardly, at second hand, known only through his own vivid emotion and feeling. This vivid feeling, mind, he thought, must be the Eternal.

    Again sent back by the Master, he saw that even feeling and mind are more outward than the soul within him that perceives them, and this soul that perceives, he thought, must be the Eternal.

    At last, by a happy inspiration, he discovered the teaching to which the master had been leading him: Bliss is the Eternal; the Eternal is Bliss. The one reality is the Self that is Bliss, self-being, self-subsisting, self-satisfying, the fulness of all things forever. The one pain is deprivation, separation, antagonism: but in the one Self that is the All, there can be no deprivation, no separation, no antagonism, no pain; only perfect Bliss for ever.

    Thus the teaching of Bhrgu; and one can hardly imagine a better and happier way of picturing the onward path of life, where each advance is marked by the appearance of a new self and a new world; not confounding and destroying the old, but transforming them, illumining them, penetrating them with a life that makes all things new.

    Then follow a series of admonitions, to establish the learning soul in the right way. Let him not reproach the world-food; let him not turn back in bitter asceticism from the great outward pictorial world; for it is the garment of the Self, woven by the breath for the purposes of the Self. Let him not reject and spurn life, but rather gladly accept and learn its admirable wealth. For the divine world-food,—the Self,—rests firmly in the outer world. food,—the pictorial universe,—and the whole of the universe is to be made radiant and breathing by the Self, till it becomes one with the Self, till nothing is but the Self.

    Let him not refuse to any a part in the habitation; for all selves are his other selves; rays from the one Self that is his own truest Self.
The powers of the Self lie hid in all things, in voice, breath, hands; in cloud, lightning, fire. Let him draw near and become possessed of them. And there is the destroying power of the Self that is to destroy the enemies of the Self, deprivation and separation and antagonism; these are the enemies who dwell within his house; they are the sons of his false brothers,—the children of the lower selves of passion and hate that usurp the place of the one true Self.

    When all the children of separation are destroyed, he becomes one with the Self, the Self that is the world, and dwells there, singing the song of oneness, knowing himself to be the breath within the world-food, the inventor of the game of life, the maker of the song: I am the first born of the true; born in the heart of the immortal, before the shining powers; I have perfe6tly become all that is; I am full of golden light.

No. 26—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1895.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FOURTH YEAR.

SELF, POTENCIES, VESTURES. pgs.185-192
The Crest Jewel of Wisdom. Shankara’s ‘Vivekachudamani: 71-150.

THE first cause of Freedom is declared to be an utter turning back from lust after unenduring things. Thereafter Restfulness, Control, Endurance; a perfect Renouncing of all acts that cling and stain.

    Thereafter, the divine Word, a turning of the mind to it, a constant thinking on it by the pure one, long and uninterrupted.

    Then ridding himself altogether of doubt, and reaching wisdom, even here he enjoys the bliss of Nirvana.

    Then the discerning between Self and not-Self that you must now awaken to, that I now declare, hearing it, lay hold on it
within yourself.

THE VESTURES. p.185

    Formed of the substances they call marrow, bone, fat, flesh, blood, skin and over-skin; fitted with greater and lesser limbs, feet, breast, trunk, arms, back, head; this is called the physical vesture by the wise—the vesture whose authority, as “I” and
“my” is declared to be a delusion.

    Then these are the refined elements: the ethereal, the upper air, the flaming, water, and earth.
 
   
These when mingled one with another become the physical elements, that are the causes of the physical vesture. The materials of them become the five sensuous things that are for the delight of the enjoyer,—sounds and other things of sense.

    They who, fooled in these sensuous things, are bound by the wide noose of lust, hard to break asunder,—they come and go,
downwards and upwards on high, led by the swift messenger, their works.

    Through the five sensuous ‘things five creatures find dissolution to the five elements, each one bound by his own character: the deer, the elephant, the moth, the fish, the bee; what then of man, who is snared by all the five?

    Sensuous things are keener to injure than the black snake’s venom; poison slays only him who eats it, but these things slay only him who beholds them with his eyes.

    He who is free from the great snare, so hard to be rid of, of longing after sensuous things, he indeed builds for Freedom, and
not another, even though knowing the six philosophies.

   
Those who, only for a little while rid of lust, long to be free, and struggle to reach the shore of the world Ocean, the toothed beast of longing lust makes them sink half way, siezing them by the throat, and swiftly carrying them away.

    By whom this toothed beast called sensuous things is slain by the sharp sword of true turning away from lust, he reaches the world-sea’s shore without hindrance. He who, soul-destroyed, treads the rough path of sensuous things, death is his reward, like him who goes out on a luckless day. But he who goes onward, through the word of the good Teacher who is friendly to all beings, and himself well controlled, he gains the fruit and the reward, and his reward is the Real.

    If the love of Freedom is yours, then put sensuous things far away from you, like poison. But love, as the food of the gods, serenity, pity, pardon, rectitude, peacefulness and self-control; love them and honor them forever.

    He who every moment leaving undone what should be done,—the freeing of himself from the bonds of beginningless unwisdom,
— devotes himself to the fattening of his body, that rightly exists for the good of the other powers, such a one thereby destroys himself.

    He who seeks to behold the Self, although living to fatten his body, is going to cross the river, holding to a toothed beast, while thinking it a tree.

    For this delusion for the body and its delights is a great death for him who longs for Freedom; the delusion by the overcoming of which he grows worthy of the dwelling place of the free.

    Destroy this great death, this infatuation for the body, wives and sons; conquering it, the pure ones reach the Pervader’s supreme abode.

    This faulty form, built up of skin and flesh, of blood and sinews, fat and marrow and bones, gross and full of impure elements;

    Born of the five-folded physical elements through deeds done before, the physical place of enjoyment of the Self; its mode is waking life, whereby there arises experience of physical things.

    Subservient to physical objects through the outer powers, with its various joys,—flower-chaplets sandal, lovers,—the Life makes itself like this through the power of the Self; therefore this form is preëminent in waking life.

    But know that this physical body wherein the whole circling life of the Spirit adheres, is but as the dwelling of the lord of the dwelling.

    Birth and age and death are the fate of the physical and all the physical changes from childhood onward; of the physical body only are caste and grade with their many homes, and differences of worship and dishonor and great honor belong to it alone.

    The powers of knowing,—hearing, touch, sight, smell, taste,—for apprehending sensuous things; the powers of doing,—voice, hands, feet, the powers that put forth and generate,—to effect deeds.

    Then the inward activity: mind, soul, self-assertion, imagination, with their proper powers; mind, ever intending and doubting; soul with its character of certainty as to things; self-assertion, that falsely attributes the notion of “I ;“ imagination, with its power of gathering itself together, and directing itself to its object.

    These also are the life-breaths: the forward-life, the downward-life, the distributing-life, the uniting-life; their activities and forms are different, as gold and water are different.

    The subtle vesture they call the eightfold inner being made up thus: voice and the other four, hearing and the other four, ether and the other four, the forward life and the other four, soul and the other inward activities, unwisdom, desire, and action.

    Hear now about this subtle vesture or form vesture, born of elements not five-folded; it is the place of gratification, the enjoyer of the fruits of deeds, the beginningless disguise of the Self, through lack of self-knowledge.

    Dream-life is the mode of its expansion, where it shines with reflected light, through the traces of its own impressions; for in dream-life the knowing soul shines of itself through the many and varied mind-pictures made during waking-life.

    Here the higher self shines of itself and rules, taking on the condition of doer, with pure thought as its disguise, an unaffected witness, nor is it stained by the actions, there done, as it not attached to them, therefore it is not stained by actions, whatever they be, done by its disguise; let this form-vesture be the minister, doing the work of the conscious self, the real man, just as the tools do the carpenter’s work; thus this self remains unattached.

    Blindness or slowness or skill come from the goodness or badness of the eye; deafness and dumbness are of the ear and not of the Knower, the Self.

    Up-breathing, down-breathing, yawning, sneezing, the forward moving of breath, and the outward moving,—these are the

doings of the life-breaths, say those who know these things; of the life-breaths, also, hunger and thirst are properties.

    The inner activity dwells and shines in sight and the other powers in the body, through the false attribution of selfhood, as cause.
Self-assertion is to be known as the cause of this false attribution of selfhood, as doer and enjoyer; and through substance and the other two potencies, it reaches expansion in the three modes.

    When sensuous things have affinity with it, it is happy; when the contrary, unhappy. So happiness and unhappiness are properties of this, and not of the Self which is perpetual bliss.

    Sensuous things are dear for the sake of the self, and not for their own sake; and therefore the Self itself is dearest of all.

    Hence the Self itself is perpetual bliss,—not its are happiness and unhappiness; as in dreamless life, where are no sensuous things, the Self that is bliss,—is enjoyed, so in waking-life it is enjoyed through the word, through intuition, teaching and deduction.

THE THREE POTENCIES. p.188

    The power of the supreme Master, that is called unmanifested, beginningless unwisdom whose very self is the three potencies, to be known through thought, by its workings,—this is glamor, whereby all this moving world is made to grow.

    Neither being nor non-being nor of the self of both of these; neither divided nor undivided nor of the self of both of these; neither formed nor formless nor of the self of both of these,—very wonderful and ineffable is its form.

    To be destroyed by the awakening to the pure, second-less Eternal, as the serpent imagined in a rope, when the rope is seen; its potencies are called substance, force, and darkness; each of them known by their workings. The self of doing belongs to force, whose power is extension, whence the preexistent activities issued; rage and all the change of the mind that cause sorrow are ever its results.

    Desire, wrath, greed, vanity, malice, self-assertion, jealousy, envy, are the terrible works of Force, its activities in man; therefore this is the cause of bondage.

    Then enveloping is the power of Darkness, whereby a thing appears as something else; this is the cause of the circling birth and rebirth of the spirit, and the cause whereby extension is drawn forward.

Though a man be full of knowledge, learned, skillful, very subtle-sighted, if Darkness has wrapped him round, he sees not, though he be full of manifold instruction; he calls good that which is raised by error, and leans upon its properties, unlucky man that he is; great and hard to end is the enveloping power of Darkness.

    Wrong thinking, contradictory thinking, fanciful thinking, confused thinking,—these are its workings; this power of extension never leaves hold of one who has come into contact with it, but perpetually sends him this way and that.

    Unwisdom, sluggishness, inertness, sloth, infatuation, folly, and things like these are of the potency of Darkness. Under the yoke of these he knows nothing at all, but remains as though asleep or like a post.

    But the potency of substance is pure like water, and even though mixed with the other two, it builds for the true refuge; for it is a reflected spark of the Self, and lights up the inert like the sun.

    Of the potency of Substance when mixed the properties are self-respect, self-restraint, control, faith and love and the longing to be free, a godlike power and a turning back from the unreal.

    Of the potency of substance altogether pure the properties are grace, direct perception of the Self, and perfect peace; exulting gladness, a resting on the Self supreme, whereby he reaches the essence of real bliss.

    The unmanifest is characterized by these three potencies; it is the causal vesture of the Self; dreamless life is the mode where it lives freely, all the activities of the powers, and even of the knowing soul having sunk back into it.

    Every form of outward perceiving has come to rest, the knowing soul becomes latent in the Self from which it springs; the name of this is dreamless life, wherein he says “I know nothing at all of the noise of the moving world.”

    The body, powers, life-breaths, mind, self-assertion, all changes, sensuous things, happiness, unhappiness, the ether and all the elements, the whole world up to the unmanifest,—this is not Self.

    Glamor and every work of glamor from the world-soul to the body, know this as unreal, as not the Self, built up of the mirage of the desert.

    But I shall declare to you the own being of the Self supreme, knowing which a man, -freed from his bonds, reaches the lonely purity.


   
There is a certain selfhood wherein the sense of “I” forever rests; who witnesses the three modes of being, who is other than the five veils; who is the only knower in waking, dreaming, dreamlessness; of all the activities of the knowing soul, whether good or bad,—this is the “I;”

    Who of himself beholds all; whom none beholds; who kindles to consciousness the knowing soul and all the powers; whom none kindles to consciousness; by whom all this is filled; whom no other fills; who is the shining light within this all; after whose shining all else shines;

    By whose nearness only body and powers and mind and soul do their work each in his own field, as though sent by the Self;

    Because the own nature of this is eternal wakefulness, self-assertion the body and all the powers, and happiness and unhappiness are beheld by it, just as an earthen pot is beheld. This inner Self, the ancient Spirit, is everlasting, part-less, immediately experienced happiness; ever of one nature, pure waking knowledge, sent forth by whom Voice and the life-breaths move.

    Here, verily, in the substantial Self, in the hidden place of the soul, this steady shining begins to shine like the dawn; then the shining shines forth as the noonday sun, making all this world to shine by its inherent light; knower of all the changing moods of mind and inward powers; of all the acts done by body, powers, life-breaths; present in them as fire in iron, strives not nor changes at all;

    This is not born nor dies nor grows, nor does it fade or change forever; even when this form has melted away, it no more melts
than the air in a jar.

    Alike stranger to forming and deforming, of its own being, pure wakefulness; both being and non-being is this, besides it there is nothing else; this shines unchanging, this Supreme Self gleams in waking, dream and dreamlessness as “I,” present as the witness of the knowing soul.

BONDAGE AND FREEDOM. p.190

    Then, holding firmly mind, with knowing soul at rest, know your self within yourself face to face saying, “This am I.” The life-ocean, whose waves are birth and dying, is shoreless cross over it, fulfilling the end of being, resting firm in the Eternal.

    Thinking things not self are “I,—this is bondage for a man; this, arising from unwisdom, is the cause of falling into the weariness of birth and dying; this is the cause that he feeds and annoints and guards this form, thinking it the Self; the unreal, real; wrapping himself in sensuous things as a silk-worm in his own threads.

    The thought that what is not That is That grows up in the fool through darkness; because no discernment is there, it wells up, as the thought that a rope is a snake; thereupon a mighty multitude of fatuities fall on him who accepts this error, for he who grasps the unreal is bound; mark this, my companion.

    By the power of wakefulness, part-less, external, secondless, the Self wells up with its endless lordship; but this enveloping power wraps it round, born of Darkness, as the dragon of eclipse envelopes the rayed sun.

    When the real Self with its stainless light recedes, a man thinking “this body is I,” calls it the Self; then by lust and hate and all the potencies of bondage, the great power of Force that they call extension greatly afflicts him.

    Torn by the gnawing of the toothed beast of great delusion; wandered from the Self, accepting every changing mood of mind as himself, through this potency, in the shoreless ocean of birth and death, full of the poison of sensuous things, sinking and rising, he wanders, mean-minded, despicable-minded.

    As a line of clouds, born of the sun’s strong shining, expands before the sun and hides it from sight, so self-assertion, that has come into being through the Self, expands before the Self and hides it from sight. As when on an evil day the lord of day is swallowed up in thick, dark clouds, an ice-cold hurricane of wind, very terrible, afflicts the clouds in turns; so when the Self is enveloped in impenetrable Darkness, the keen power of extension drives with many afflictions the man whose soul is deluded.

    From those two powers a man’s bondage comes; deluded by them he errs, thinking the body is the Self.

    Of the plant of birth and death, the seed is Darkness, the sprout is the thought that body is Self, the shoot is rage, the sap is deeds, the body is the stem, the life-breaths are the branches, the tops are the bodily powers, sensuous things are the flowers, sorrow is the fruit, born of varied deeds and manifold; and the Life is the bird that eats the fruit.

    This bondage to what is not Self, rooted in unwisdom, innate, made manifest without beginning or end, gives life to the falling torrent of sorrow, of birth and death, of sickness and old age.

    Not by weapons nor arms, not by storm nor fire nor by a myriad deeds can this be cut off, without the sword of discernment and knowledge, very sharp and bright, through the grace of the guiding power.

    He who is single minded, fixed on the word divine, his steadfast fulfilment of duty will make the knowing soul within him pure; to him whose knowing soul is pure, a knowing of the Self supreme shall come; and through this knowledge of the Self supreme he shall destroy this circle of birth and death and its root together.


No. I—JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

A NEW DEPARTURE. p.1

WITH THE beginning of the New Year let us make a slight change in the way the wise books of the East are brought forward in these papers.

    At the end of the first six numbers, a year ago, a series of questions were asked by the editor of these translations, and answered by the readers. Let us turn the matter round the other way this year: let the questions be asked by the readers and answered—so far as the gods give grace, wisdom and understanding—by the editor.

    This new departure is suggested by a question which is answered at the end of this number—not the only question, one can well believe, which the dark sayings of the three Lotuses have inspired, but the only one which has hitherto made itself articulate across space.

    Though it would be better, in general, to keep to the subject of each of these papers as they appear, questions of wider range may also be useful sometimes; as their answers may help the orienting, so to say, of individual works and passages.

No. I—JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

FATHER, MOTHER AND SON. pgs.2-5
Aitareya Upanishad.

SELF WAS here verily in the beginning; nothing else opposing at all. He beheld, saying: Let me now put forth worlds.

    He put forth these worlds: the great sea, the ray-world, the death-World, the waters. The great sea is above, beyond heaven; in it heaven is set firm. The mid-world is the world of rays. Earth, the death-world. What is beneath it is the waters.

    He beheld, saying: Here then are worlds for me; let me now put forth world-lords. From the waters verily, laying hold on spirit, he gave it form.

    He brooded round it. As he brooded round it, a mouth was divided out like an egg. From this mouth came formative-Voice; from formative-Voice, fire.

    Two nostrils were divided out. From the two nostrils came the life-breath; from the life-breath, wind.

    Two eyes were divided out. From the two eyes came seeing; from seeing, then sun.

    Two ears were divided out. From the ears came hearing; from hearing, the spaces.

    Skin was divided out. From the skin came hairs; from the hairs, plants, the lords of the forest.

    The heart was divided out. From the heart came mind; from mind, the moon.

    The lower trunk was divided out. From the lower trunk came the downward-life; from the downward-life, death.

    The power of putting-forth was divided out. From the power of putting-forth, vital force; from vital force, the waters.

    They, these shining powers, thus put forth in this great ocean, moved forward. Them he followed with hunger and thirst. Him they addressed: Cause a house for us to be born, wherein, standing firm, we may eat food; said they.

    Toward them he led up the cow. They addressed him: Verily for us this is not enough; said they. Toward them he led up the horse. They addressed him: Verily for us this is not enough; said they.

    Toward them he led up man. They addressed him: Well made, truly! Man verily is well made. He addressed them:
Enter according to your abodes; said be.

                Fire, becoming formative-Voice, entered, his mouth.
                Wind, becoming life-breath, entered his two nostrils.
                Sun, becoming seeing, entered his two eyes.
                Space, becoming hearing, entered his two ears.
                Plants, lords of the forest, becoming hairs, entered his skin.
                Moon, becoming mind, entered his heart.
                Death, becoming downward-life, entered his middle.
                Waters, becoming vital force, entered the power of putting- forth.

    Him hunger and thirst addressed: For us two also cause a place to be born; said they. Them he addressed: In these verily, in the shining powers, I give you a share; in these I make you two sharers. Therefore to whatever shining power offering is brought, hunger and thirst verily become two sharers therein.

    He beheld; saying: Here are worlds for me and world-lords; food for them let me now put forth.

    He brooded round the waters; from them brooded round, form was born. And this form that was born is food.
And this, put forth beyond it, it tried to reach and eat.

    Through voice he tried to take it; he was not able to grasp it through voice. Had he been able to grasp it through voice, then by naming it would food be enjoyed.

    He tried to take it through life-breath; he was not able to grasp it through life-breath. Had he been able to grasp it through life-breath, then by breathing round it would food be enjoyed.

    He tried to take it through seeing; he was not able to grasp it through seeing. Had he been able to grasp it through seeing, then by seeing would food be enjoyed.

    He tried to take it through hearing; he was not able to grasp it through hearing. Had he been able to grasp it through hearing, then by hearing would food be enjoyed.

    He tried to take it through skin; he was not able to grasp it through skin. Had he been able to grasp it through skin, then by touching would food be enjoyed.

    He tried to grasp it through mind; he was not able to grasp it through mind. Had he been able to grasp it through mind, then by thinking would food be enjoyed.

    He tried to grasp it by the power of putting-forth; he was not able to grasp it by the power of putting-forth. Had he been able to grasp it by the power of putting-forth, then by putting forth would food be enjoyed.

    He tried to grasp it by the downward-life. He laid hold, on it. So it is the taking of food, this breath. For this breath is the life of food.

                He, beholding, said: How may this be without me?
                He, beholding, said: By which may I reach forward to it?
                He, beholding, said: If by voice it is spoken, if by breath breathed, if by seeing seen, if by hearing heard, if by skin touched, if by mind thought, if by the downward-life down-breathed, if by the power of putting-forth it is put forth, then who am I?

    He pierced an opening here, at this division of the hair, and entered. Therefore this is called the opening, this is the door, this is the giver of bliss. Of this are the three dwellings, of this the three dreams. There is this dwelling, this dwelling and this dwelling.

    He, having entered into birth, looked round on beings: What is there here foreign to me? said he.

    He beheld this individual spirit as the Eternal. This have I beheld, said he.

    From this, its name is Idan-dra [“that beheld”]; Idandra verily it is called. And this, which is really Idandra, is spoken of as Indra, by a hidden name; for the bright ones are, as it were, pleased with what is hidden.

    This is at first in the active power as a germ; what is seed, is that; it is radiance come into being from all the parts. Within self, verily, self is borne. When the active instils this into the passive, he causes the germ to come to life. This is its first birth.

    This reaches self-being through the passive; becoming as a part of the passive, this, therefore, does not injure the passive. And the passive supports this self thus entered into it.

    The passive that supports is also to be supported. The passive bears the germ. The active at first, at the beginning of birth, is the superior cause of the new being. And as the active, at the beginning of birth, is the superior cause of the new being, thereby the active causes self to come into being for the continuing of these worlds. For thus these worlds are continued. This is its second birth.

    This is his self put forward for good works; thus this is his other self for doing what has to be done. And reaching its full age, this goes forth; and going forth hence, is born again. This is its third birth.

    This was said by a Seer:

    Being yet in the germ, of these bright ones I followed out all the births; a hundred iron ones kept me in the dwelling; downwards like a falcon I swiftly descended.

    While lying, verily, in the germ Vâmadeva said this.
He, thus knowing, from the separation of the body here, ascending upwards, in that heaven-world all desires obtaining became immortal.

    What is this self ?—saying this we approach it in worship;—which self is this by which he beholds form, by which he hears sound, by which smell smells, by which he modulates what is to be spoken, by which he discerns between sweet and not sweet?

    This that is the heart, the mind this, conscience, apprehension, discernment, perception, knowing, insight, comprehending, thinking, understanding, consciousness, memory, will, resolution, life, desire, power,—all these verily are names of perceiving consciousness.

    This formative power, this sky-lord, this Lord of beings, all these bright powers and these five elemental creatures—earth, air, shining ether, the waters, fires—these also that are compounded of parts, the seeds and the lesser seeds, the egg-born, the womb-born, the sweat-born, the fission-born, horses, cows, men, elephants, whatever there is that has life and moves and flies, and what is stationary, all this is what leads perception, and is set firm in perceiving consciousness. The world is what leads perception; the basis of it—what it stands firm in—is perception; while perceiving consciousness is the Eternal.

    He, verily, through this perceiving consciousness, through the Self, ascending from this world here, in that heaven-world there gaining all desires has become immortal.

No. I—JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

THE PRIMORDIAL MAN pgs.6-10
In the Aitareya Upanishad.

IF THE Taittiriya Upanishad was more directly concerned: with the individual teaching of the pupil, and the relations between
the pupil and the Master, as typified in the story of the sage Bhrgu, then the Aitareya Upanishad is concerned with the great scheme of the manifestation of worlds, in its widest and most universal conception.

    The beginning of the Aitareya Upanishad takes us back to a time,—if time it can be called, when there is no time,—when even the ideal universe, was not yet in being; when Self alone was, and nothing at all but Self, self-supported, self-shining, self-contained.

    Then comes the formation, the putting-forth, as it is called, of the primordial, ideal universe; the first faint outline, the plan, the frame on which the fully manifested worlds are afterwards to be formed.

    The Self, beholding, said: Let me now put forth worlds. The word here translated, “beholding, said,” means at once to
see or to view and to speak; as though it were a visible voice, or an audible flash of light. It is well worth while to take this word, and trace it all through the Upanishads, so as to bring out exactly its use and meaning.

    In this Aitareya Upanishad it is used all through for the speaking and beholding of the formative Self, and for nothing else; when the emanated powers, the manifested parts of the formative Self, speak, another word is used, which expresses common speech.

    In the chapter, “THAT THOU ART” of the Chhandogya Upanishad it is used in exactly the same way: “Being was in the beginning, alone and second-less; Being beholding said: Let me become great, let me produce beings; it produced the Radiance. Radiance, beholding said: Let me become great, let me produce; it produced the Waters. The Waters beholding said: Let us become great, let us produce; they produced the food-world, Earth. That bright power, Being, beholding said: Let me enter these three powers, by this life, by my Self, let me give them manifold forms and names.

    In the first passage in which it occurs in the Brhad-Aranyaka Upanishad, the formation of the Sun, the Waters and Earth has

been related,—the Sun here corresponding to the Radiance; then the formative being “beholding said: If I absorb all this, I shall make little food for myself. By this formative-voice, by this Self he put forth all this, whatsoever there is at all.” Here again the expression is used in the same singular and original sense. It next occurs in a passage in the same Upanishad, beginning, like the
Aitareya Upanishad:
“Self, verily, was here in the beginning. He beholding saw nothing else but Self. He made a beholding, and said: Why do I fear, since there is nothing else but me. Then he divided himself twofold into active and passive. Then the passive beholding said”—and so forth. This passive power is formative-voice. Once again the same word is used: “He, verily, the Lord of beings, made a beholding and said: Let me make a resting-place for this. He put forth the passive” formative-voice.

    In the Kena Upanishad—” By whom”—it is used once for the speech of the three great powers, the Sky-lord, the Breath, the Fire-lord. “The Eternal gained a victory for the bright powers. They beholding said: this is our victory.”

    In two other Upanishads the same word is used, in each of them once, in a meaning not identical but deeply suggestive. In the Katha Upanishad, the story of Death and Nachiketas, it is said: “The Self-being pierced the openings outward; hence one looks outward, not within himself. A certain wise man beholding viewed the Self with sight reverted, wishing for immortality.”

    And in the Prashna Upanishad—”The Questions”—the same meaning: “He is lead to the world of the Eternal, he beholding views the spirit that rests within the dwelling, above the highest assembly of lives.” In the same Upanishad the word is again used in the first sense: the Spirit “made a beholding and said: In the manifestation of what shall I become manifested; in the founding of what shall I be set firm?”

    So that, of eighteen occurrences of this word in the Upanishads, thirteen directly refer to the formative speech of the emanating Spirit, the Logos, the Word; three refer to the speech of macrocosmic powers of the three worlds; while two refer to the illumination in Self of the individual who “views the Self with reverted sight, wishing for immortality,” who “beholds the Spirit resting above the highest assembly of lives.”

    The expression is thus used either for the Voice, the formative energy of the Logos, or for the same Voice within, when the individual consciousness rises up to the Logos. Thus far the history of a word of the highest import. To return now to the world-building in the Aitareya Upanishad. The first emanation which the Self beholding viewed, or “visibly voiced,” is the Great Deep, the Ocean, the Waters of Space, wherein the four principles of the Macrocosm are to be developed. These four macrocosmic principles are called the Heavens, the Rays, the Earth, the Waters; corresponding exactly to what the teacher of Shvetaketu calls in inverse order, the World-food, the Waters, the Radiance and the higher divinity.

    After this formation of the four macrocosmic principles in the Great Deep, the specialized formative Logos or Primordial Man is “laid hold on, and brought forth from the Great Deep, and given a form.”

    Within this Logos are to be formed the centres or potencies of all the creative impulses which are to build the manifested worlds. For each of these centres there is a threefold formation: the centre itself: its radiation or impulse or force, and the objective or fully manifested external form corresponding to each force. Thus the mouth is the centre; formative Voice, the force; fire, the external form. This “fire” again calls to mind the “visible voice,” which is comprehended in the words “beholding, said.” Again, the two nostrils are the centres; the life-breath, the force or impulse; and the Wind, the external form. It is quite clear that these three formative steps correspond to the three worlds; the centres to the world of Radiance or the Rays; the forces or impulses to the mid-world, the world of the Waters; the external forms, to the world of form, of Earth, of death,— for the crystallization into form is death. Those who are curious in numbers may note that, if we set aside “skin, the hairs, the trees, lords of the forest,” as being no specialized centre, we shall have a series of ten centres of force, each threefold in manifestation; while, if the duplicates — two eyes, two ears, two nostrils— are reduced to one each, the centres of force in the formative Logos are reduced to seven in number, each centre putting forth a radiation through the middle world, which becomes an externalized form or element in the physical world.

    Then comes another stage in the great primeval drama of manifestation. “They, these shining powers thus put forth, moved forward in the Great Deep. Them the formative Self followed with hunger and thirst,”—With the twofold desire to become embodied, to become manifested, to taste experience. Here, very likely, as in the teaching of Shvetaketu, thirst is the tasting of experience in the middle world, the world of the Waters, while hunger is the tasting of experience In the physical world, the world of Food, of Earth. The potencies, therefore, were beset with the impulse to taste experience in this twofold way.

    To gain this double experience a form is needed. Three forms are successively tried; the first two are rejected; the third, the human form, accepted: “Toward the bright powers he led up man; they addressed him: Well made, verily. Man verily is well made. He addressed them, Enter according to your abodes.”

    This Man thus led up to the bright powers, is personified humanity, the reflection in the manifested world of the primordial man, immanifest in the Great Deep. The world of the Radiance is, as it were, the Father; the world of the Waters, the Mother; the physical world, with its manifested humanity, the Son.

    Then, in the same order as before, the powers enter the centres of force in man: “Fire, becoming formative-voice, entered his mouth; wind, becoming life-breath, entered his nostrils,” and so with the others. If we were to represent the doctrine of the Upanishad by a visible symbol, it would be something like this: At the top, the unmanifested Self, radiating the three macrocosmic planes or worlds in space; then, in the highest of these three worlds, a face with a mouth, two eyes, two ears, two nostrils; the centres of the heart and the two lower powers being also marked. From these centers the impulses flow downward through the middle world as forces, to the lowest world, where they again come to centers as before, in the upper world. But it is better not to harden these things into too definite forms; it is better rather to grasp them as they really are, as living forces; as seeing, hearing, voice, not as diagrams on paper.

    This second man, humanity,—as the first man is divinity,—was endowed with all the powers, but without a soul. The third stage had been reached; the fourth was now to come. But before the turning-point is reached, the utmost development outward must be accomplished. This is, as far as one can see, the meaning of the long parable of the typical man (personified humanity) trying to grasp food (to reach experience) by each one of the powers successively, and then at last gaining it by the lowest, the power that corresponds to death. Then the formative Self beholding, said: “How may this man exist without me?” If voice be the speaker, if sight be the seer, if hearing be the hearer, who then is the Self?

    This is the exact counterpart of a passage in the Kena Upanishad—”By Whom”: “That which is not spoken by voice, but through which voice speaks; that which beholds not by sight, but by which sight beholds; that which hears not by hearing, but by which hearing is heard—know that to be the Eternal,” the Self.

    Then comes the remarkable passage: “He pierced an opening here, at this junction of the hair (on the crown of the head) and entered. Therefore this is called the opening, this is the door, this is the giver of bliss.” To shed light on this, we must turn back to a passage in the Taittiriya Upanishad, in the first part, the Lotus of the Teaching: “This is the shining ether within the heart,—the inner man; in this is the spirit of the form of mind, immortal, golden; in the division of the palate, where as it were a nipple hangs down, this is the womb of Indra; and where the end of the hair turns round, in the head, in the skull.” The conception is clearly the same in both cases. The “door” by which the Self enters is the same as “the womb of Indra,” the giver of bliss. Just as the other “bright powers” have their dwelling in the eyes, the nostrils, the mouth, so the Self is conceived as having its dwelling, its place of appearing, when manifest in the physical man. And again, as before, Indra is mentioned as a symbol, “for the bright ones are, as it were, pleased with what is hidden.”

    Then comes a definition: the heart, the mind, conscience, apprehension, discernment, perception, knowing, insight, comprehending, thinking, understanding, consciousness, memory, will, resolution, life, desire, power,—all these are names of perceiving consciousness, modes of the Self. “He, verily, through this perceiving consciousness, through the Self, ascending from this world and gaining all desires in the heaven-World, becomes immortal.”

No. I—JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

THE WITNESS. pgs.11-15
Shankara’s ‘Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom.—201-207.

THE MANIFEST AND THE HIDDEN SELF.

BEGINNINGLESS is unwisdom, and all its works are too; but when wisdom is arisen, what belongs to unwisdom, although beginningless—

    Like a dream on waking, perishes, root and all; though beginningless, it is not endless; it is as something that was not before, and now is, this is manifest.

    It is thus seen that, though without a beginning, unwisdom comes to an end, just as something, which before was not, comes into being. Built up in the Self by its being bound by disguise of intellect—

    I s this existence as the separate life, for there is no other than the Self, distinguished by its own nature, but the binding of the Self by the intellect is false, coming from unknowledge.

    This binding is untied by perfect knowledge, not otherwise; the discerning of the oneness of the Eternal and the Self is held by the scripture to be perfect knowledge.

    And this is accomplished by perfectly discerning between Self and not-self; thereafter discernment is to be gained between individual and universal Self.

    Water may be endlessly muddy, but when the mud is gone, the water is clear. As it shines, so shines the Self also, when faults are gone away, it shines forth clear.

    And when unreality ceases to exist in the individual self, it is clear that it returns towards the universal; hence there is to be a rejection of the self-assertion and other characteristics of the individual self.

    Hence this higher Self is not what is called the intellectual veil, because that is changeful, helpless of itself, circumscribed, objective, liable to err; the non-eternal cannot be regarded as eternal.

    The bliss-formed veil is a form containing the reflection of bliss—although it is tainted with darkness; it has the quality of pleasure, the attainment of well wished-for aims; it shines forth in the enjoyment of good works by a righteous man, of its own nature bliss-formed; gaining an excellent form, he enjoys bliss without effort.

    The principal sphere of the bliss-formed veil is in dreamless sleep; in dreaming and waking it is in part manifest when blissful objects are beheld.

    Nor is this bliss-formed veil the higher Self, for it wears a disguise, it is a form of objective nature; it is an effect caused by good acts, accumulated in this changeful form.

    When the five veils are taken away, according to inference and scripture, what remains after they are taken away is the Witness, in a form born of awakening.

    This is the Self, self-shining, distinguished from the five veils; this is the Witness in the three modes of perceiving, without change, without stain. The wise should know it as Being and Bliss, as his own Self.

THE PUPIL SAID:

    When the five veils are thus set aside through their unreality, beyond the non-being of all I see nothing, Master; what then is to be known as anything by him who knows Self and not-self?

THE MASTER SAID:

    Truth has been spoken by thee, wise one; thou art skilled in judgment. Self-assertion and all these changes,—in the Self they have no being. That whereby all is enjoyed, but which is itself not enjoyed, know that to be the Self, the Knower, through thy very subtle intellect.

    Whatever is enjoyed by anyone, of that he is the witness; but of that which is not enjoyed by anyone, it cannot be said that anyone is the witness.

    That is to be self-witness, where anything is enjoyed by itself; therefore the universal Self is witness of itself; no other lesser thing is witness of it.

    In waking, dreaming, dreamlessness, that Self is clearly manifested, appearing through its universal form always as “I,” as the “I” within, uniformly. This is “I” beholding intellect and the rest that partake of varied forms and changes. It is manifest through eternal blissful self-consciousness know that as the Self here in the heart. [220]

    Looking at the reflection of the sun reflected in the water of a jar, he who is deluded thinks it is the sun, thus the reflected consciousness appearing under a disguise is thought by him who is hopelessly deluded to be “I.”

Rejecting jar and water and the sun reflected there all together, the real sun is beheld. So the unchanging One which is reflected in the three modes, self-shining, is perceived by the wise.

    Putting away in thought body and intellect as alike reflections of consciousness, discerning the seer, hid in the secret place, the

Self, the part-less awakening, the universal shining, distinguished alike from what exists and what does not exist; the eternal lord, all-present, very subtle, devoid of within and without, nothing but self; discerning this perfectly, in its own form, a man is sinless, passionless, deathless.

    Sorrow-less, altogether bliss, full of wisdom, fearing nothing at all from anything; there is no other path of freedom from the bondage of the world but knowledge of the reality of his Self, for him who would be free.

    Knowledge that the Eternal is not divided from him is the cause of freedom from the world, whereby the Eternal, the second-less bliss, is gained by the awakened.

    Therefore one should perfectly know that the Eternal and the Self are not divided; for the wise who has become the Eternal does not return again to birth and death.

    The real, wisdom, the endless, the Eternal, pure, supreme, self-perfect, the one essence of eternal bliss, universal, undivided, unbroken,—this he gains.

    This is the real, supreme, second-less, for besides the Self no other is; there is nothing else at all in the condition of perfect awakening to the reality of the supreme being.

    This all, that is perceived as the vari-form world, from unknowledge, this all is the Eternal, when the mind’s confusion is cast away. [230]
   
The pot made of clay is not separate from the clay, for all through it is in its own nature clay; the form of the pot is not separate; whence then the pot? It is mere name, built up of illusion.

    By no one can the form of the pot be seen, separate from the clay; hence the pot is built of delusion, but the real thing is the clay, like the supreme Being.

    All this is always an effect of the real Eternal; it is that alone, nor is there anything else but that. He who says there is, is not free from delusion, like one who talks in his sleep.

    The Eternal verily is this all; thus says the excellent scripture of the Atharva. In accordance with it, all this is the Eternal only, nor is there any separate existence of the attribute apart from the source.

    If this moving world were the real, then had the Self no freedom from limitation, divine authority no worth, the Master Self no truth; these three things the great-souled cannot allow.

    The Master who knows the reality of things declared: I verily am not contained in these things, nor do these creatures stand
in me. If the world be real, then it should be apprehended in dreamless sleep; it is not apprehended there, therefore it is unreal, dreamlike, false. Therefore the world is not separate from the higher Self; what is perceived as separate is false,—the natural potencies and the like; what real existence is there in the attribute? Its support shines forth as with attributes illusively.

    Whatever is delusively perceived by one deluded, is the Eternal; the silver shining is only the pearl shell. The Eternal is perpetually conceived as formed; but what is attributed to the Eternal is a name only.

    Therefore the supreme Eternal is Being, second-less, of the form of pure knowledge, stainless, peaceful, free from beginning or ending, changeless, its own-nature is unbroken bliss. [240]

    Every difference made by world-glamor set aside, eternal, lasting, part-less, measureless, formless, unmanifest, nameless, unfading, a self-shining light that illuminates all that is.

    Where the difference of knower, knowing, known is gone, endless, sure; absolute, part-less, pure consciousness; the wise know this as the supreme reality.

    That can neither be left nor taken, is no object of mind or speech; immeasurable, beginningless, endless, the perfect Eternal, the universal “I.”

 THAT THOU ART.

    The Eternal and the Self, indicated by the two words “that” and “thou,” when clearly understood, according to the Scripture THAT THOU ART,” are one; their oneness is again ascertained.

    This identity of theirs is in their essential, not their verbal meanings, for they are apparently of contradictory character; like the firefly and the sun, the sovereign and the serf, the well and the great waters, he atom and Mount Meru.

    The contradiction between them is built up by their disguises, but this disguise is no real thing at all; the disguise of the Master Self is the world-glamor, the cause of the celestial and other worlds; the disguise of the individual life is the group of five veils,—hear this now:

    These are the two disguises, of the Supreme and the individual life; when they are set aside together, these is no longer the Supreme nor the individual life. The king has his kingdom, the warrior his weapons; when these are put away there is neither warrior nor king.

    According to the Scripture saying, “this is the instruction, the Self is not that, not that,” the twofoldness that was built up sinks away of itself in the Eternal; let the truth of this scripture be grasped through awakening; the putting away of the two disguises must verily be accomplished.

    It is not this, it is not this: because this is built up, it is not the real,—like the serpent seen in the rope, or like a dream; thus putting away every visible thing by wise meditation, the oneness of the two—Self and Eternal—is then to be known.

    Therefore the two are to be well observed in their essential unity. Neither their contradictory character nor their non-contradictory character is all; but the real and essential Being is to be reached, in order to gain the essence in which they are one and undivided. [250]

   
When one says: “This man is Devadatta,” the oneness is here stated by rejecting contradictory qualities. With the great word “THAT THOU ART,” it is the same; what is contradictory between the two is set aside.

    As being essentially pure consciousness, the oneness between the Real and the Self is known by the awakened; and by hundreds of great texts the oneness, the absence of separateness, between the Eternal and the Self is declared.

    That is not the physical; it is the perfect, after the unreal is put aside; like the ether, not to be handled by thought. Hence this matter that is perceived is illusive, therefore set it aside; but what is grasped by its own selfhood,—”that I am the Eternal,”— know that with intelligence purified; know the Self as part-less awakening.

    Every pot and vessel has always clay as its cause, and its material is clay; just like this, this world is engendered by the Real, and has the Real as its Self, the Real is its material altogether. That Real than which there is none higher, THAT THOU ART, the restful, the stainless, second-less Eternal, the supreme.
(To be concluded.)

No. I—JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

AN ANSWER. pgs.15

A QUESTION has been asked about the meaning of the frequent references to the Vedas; whether they have any settled correspondences, as for instance in the second part of the Taittiriya Upanishad, which has been translated under the title: “The Five Veils.” The most general use of the names of Vedas, as symbols, or as indicating correspondences, is that exemplified in the fifth question of the Prashna Upanishad, where the Rig, the Yajur, the Sama are connected with the three measures of the mystic syllable, and thus with the three worlds, or the three modes of being—waking, dreaming, dreamlessness. They are used in the same way to refer to any threefold series: “the Rig, to this world; the Yajur, to the middle world; the Sama, to the world the seers tell of;” and used in another way they are connected with the different members of a fivefold series. Thus, in a fable in the Chhandogya Upanishad, where the sun is said to be divine honey, the sky the beam it hangs from, and the mid-space the honey-comb, the Rig Veda is said to be the flower that contains the honey-streams of the eastern rays; the Yajur Veda is the flower of the southern rays; the Sama Veda the flower of the western rays; the “story and tradition” mentioned in connection with the Atharva Angirasa—the oldest name for the fourth, Atharva, Veda—of the northern rays; and the Eternal, wherewith the “secret instructions” are connected, of the upward rays. It would be out of place to dwell on this fable here, but it will have been seen that the Rig, Yajur, Sama, Atharva Vedas, with the Secret Instructions as fifth, are used as mnemonics for the members of a fivefold series. In the same way the four Vedas, Yajur, Rig, Sama, Atharva-Angirasa, and Instructions as the fifth, are used, in the passage of the Taittiriya Upanishad to which the question referred, to indicate five impulses of mind, which run parallel to the five vital breaths, or the five moral and intellectual qualities, in the vital and intellectual veils respectively What these five impulses of mind are, we are not told in so many words; we are left to work out the correspondences for ourselves. Thus the impulse symbolized by the Secret Instructions corresponds to the upward-life or ether in the vital veil, to union with the Eternal, in the moral or intellectual veil, and to Bliss, in the spiritual veil. In another Upanishad, five impulses of mind are mentioned, thus: intending, imagining, discerning, willing, and aspiring. These would fit in very well as the five characters or impulses of the mind, in the passage we are considering, but the correspondences are not always quite rigidly maintained.
C. J.

No. 2—MARCH-APRIL, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE THREE WORLDS. pg.19
Katha Upanishad, ii, 1,6.

HE WHO knows the first-born of Radiance, born of old of the waters, standing hid in secret, who looked forth through creatures: this is that.

    And the great mother full of divinity, who comes forth through life, standing hid in secret, who was born through creatures: this is that.

    The fire hidden in the fire-sticks—like a germ well concealed by the mother—that fire is day by day to be praised, by men who wake, with the oblations: this is that.

    Whence the sun rises, and whither he goes to setting; that all the bright ones rest in, nor does any go beyond it: this is that.

    What is here, that is there; what is there, that also is here. He goes from death to death who sees a difference between them.
This is to be received by the mind, that there is no difference here. From death to death he goes, who sees a difference.


THE WITNESS.
p.18
Shankaras Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom.— 201-297.
THE MANIFEST AND THE HIDDEN SELF.
(Concluded from p.15)

As dream-built lands and times, objects and knowers of them, are all unreal, just so here in waking is this world; its cause is ignorance of the Self; in as much as all this world, body and organs, vital breath and personality are all unreal, in so much
THOU ART THAT
, the restful, the stainless, second-less Eternal, the supreme.

    Far away from birth and conduct, family and tribe, quite. free from name and form and quality and fault; beyond space and time and objects,—this is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    The supreme, that no word can reach, but that is reached by the eye of awakening, pure of stain, the pure reality of consciousness and mind together,—this is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    Untouched by the six infirmities, reached in the heart of those that seek for union, reached not by the organs, whose being neither intellect nor reason knows,—this is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    Built of error is the world; in That it rests; That rests in itself, different from the existent and the non-existent; part-less, nor bound by causality, is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    Birth and growth, decline and loss, sickness and death it is free from, and unfading; the cause of emanation, preservation, destruction, is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self. [260]

    Where all difference is cast aside, all distinction is cast away, a wave-less ocean, motionless; ever free, with undivided form,— this is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    Being one, though cause of many, the cause of others, with no cause itself; where cause and caused are merged in one, self-being, the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    Free from doubt and change, great, unchanging; where changing and unchanging are merged in one, Supreme; eternal, unfading joy, unstained,—this is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    This shines forth manifold through error, through being the Self under name and form and quality and change; like gold itself unchanging ever,—this is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    This shines out unchanging, higher than the highest, the hidden one essence, whose character is selfhood, reality, consciousness, joy, endless, unfading,—this is the Eternal, THAT THOU ART; become it in the Self.

    Let a man make it his own in the Self,—like a word that is spoken, by reasoning from the known, by thought; this is as devoid of doubt as water in the hand, so certain will its reality become.

    Recognizing this perfectly illumined one, whose reality is altogether pure, as one recognizes the leader of men in the assembled army, and resting on that, always standing firm in one’s own Self, sink all this world that is born, into the Eternal.

    In the soul, in the hidden place, marked neither as what is nor what is not, is the Eternal, true, supreme, second-less. He who through the Self dwells here in the secret place, for him there is no coming forth again to the world of form.

    When the thing is well known even, this beginningless mode of thought, ‘I am the doer and the enjoyer,’ is very powerful; this mode of mind lasting ‘strongly, is the cause of birth and rebirth. A looking backward toward the Self, a dwelling on it, Is to be effortfully gained; freedom here on earth, say the saints, is the thinning away of that mode of thought.

    That thought of ‘I’ and ‘mine’ in the flesh, the eye and the rest, that are not the Self,—this transference from the real to the unreal is to be cast away by the wise man by steadfastness in his own Self. [270]

No. 2—MARCH-APRIL, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE MYSTERIES OF SOUND.   p. 20
Chhandogya Upanishad, 1, I-7.
I It will be advisable to study the Commentary that follows, before reading this translation.

OM: let a man draw near to this imperishable syllable as ‘the up-singing’; for with the syllable OM a man repeats the up-singing. And this is the subsidiary explanation of it:

    Of these beings, Earth is the essence; of Earth, the Waters are the essence; of the waters, Growths are the essence; of growths, Man is the essence; of man, Voice is the essence; of voice, the holy Hymn is the essence; of the holy hymn the mystic Chant is the essence; of the mystic chant, the Up-singing is the essence.

    So this is the most excellent essence of essences, supreme, lasting the whole lifetime of the evolver, the eighth,—this up singing.
Then this is considered: what is the number of the holy hymn? What is the number of the mystic chant? What is the number of the up-singing?

    Voice, verily, is the holy hymn; Life is the mystic chant; OM, the imperishable syllable, is the up-singing. So there is the pair Voice and Life, and holy hymn and mystic chant.

    And this pair, verily, is put forth united in the imperishable syllable OM. And when the pairs come together, then, verily, they gain each other’s desire. He, verily, becomes a gainer of his desires who, knowing this thus draws near to the imperishable syllable as the up-singing.

    And this imperishable syllable is also the form of command, for whenever one commands anything he utters OM; and this command is, verily, mastery. He becomes master of his desires who, knowing this thus draws near to the imperishable syllable as the up-singing.

    Through this the threefold knowledge turns: uttering OM one commands, uttering OM he praises, uttering or he sings the up- song; for the numbering of this imperishable syllable, through greatness, through essence.

    Through this both work, he who knows this thus, and he who knows not. For different are knowledge and non-knowledge; for what a man works through knowledge, faith, and the secret teaching, that verily becomes more full of power; thus, in truth, the subsidiary explanation or expansion of the imperishable syllable.

    The bright powers and the dark powers, verily, where they strove together, were both the offspring of the Lord of being; then, verily, the bright powers uttered the up-singing: Through this let us become masters of this Earth, said they.

    They drew near to the nasal life-breath as the up-singing; but it the dark powers pierced through perishable-ness. Hence through it one smells both, sweet scent and foul odor; for it was pierced through perishable-ness.

    Then they drew near to voice as the up-singing; but it the dark powers pierced through perishable-ness. Hence through it one speaks both, what belongs to the real and what belongs to unrighteousness; for it was pierced through perishable-ness.

    Then they drew near to seeing as the up-singing; but it the dark powers pierced through perishable-ness. Hence one beholds both, what should be seen and what should not be seen; for it was pierced through perishable-ness.

    Then they drew near to hearing as the up-singing; but it the dark powers pierced through perishable-ness. Hence by it one hears both, what should be heard and what should not be heard; for it was pierced through perishable-ness.

    Then they drew near to emotion as the up-singing; but it the dark powers pierced through perishable-ness. Hence by it one intends both, what should be intended and what should not be intended.

    Then this which is the principle Life, this they drew near to as the up-singing. And the dark powers, coming to it, were broken in pieces, like as a clod of earth coming against a rock would be broken in pieces, so they were broken to pieces. And he who desires destruction to one who knows thus, or intends injury against him, he is that clod against the rock.

    For through this higher life one does not discern sweet savor and foul odor; for it is indeed freed from perishable-ness. And whatsoever he eats and drinks through this, through it he protects the inferior lives. To this, verily, he attains, gaining it at the end, entering into it at the end.

    This, in truth, Angiras drew near to as the up-singing; and this Angiras, verily, they think to be the members’ (anga) essence (rasa).
Through this, in truth, Brhaspati drew near to this as the up-singing; and this Brhaspati they think to be the master of voice; for voice is great (brhati) and of it this is the master (pati)

   
Through this, in truth, Ayasya drew near to this as the up-singing; and they think this to be Ayayasya, what comes (aya) from the mouth (asya).

   
Through this, in truth, Baka Dalbhya gained knowledge; he, verily, became the singer of the up-singing for the men of the forest of Naimisha. For them by chanting he gains their desires.

    He becomes a gainer of his desires by chanting, who, knowing this thus, draws near to the imperishable syllable as the up- singing. Thus far concerning the world of self,—the microcosm.

   
Then as to the world of the bright powers,—the macrocosm. That power that glows fervid in the heavens, let a man draw near to that as the up-singing. For uprising that chants the up-singing for beings, uprising it slays the fear of darkness. He becomes a slayer of darkness who knows thus.

    And the binding life is both this and that; both this glowing heat here and that glowing heat there. And this they call the sound, and that the answering sound; therefore let one draw near to this fire here and that fire there as the up-singing.

    Also in truth let one draw near to the distributing-life as the up-singing. For what he breaths forth is the forward-life and what he breaths downward is the downward-life, and the downward-life is the distributing life, and this distributing-life is voice; therefore one speaks of voice as embracing the forward-life and the downward-life.

    But what voice is, that is the hymn; therefore one speaks of the hymn, as embracing the forward-life and the downward-life. But what the hymn is, that is the chant. Therefore he sings the chant as the forward-life and the downward-life. But what the chant is, that is the up-singing. Therefore he chants the up-singing as the forward-life and the downward-life.

    And so whatever other virtue-possessing workings there are, as the engendering of the fire and the going of the sacred fluid and the compelling of the sturdy bow, these he works as the forward-life and the downward-1ife. For this cause let him draw near to the distributing-life as the up-singing.

    Then let him draw near to the syllables of the ‘up-singing’; for this is the ‘up.singing’ the forward-life verily is ‘up’; for through the forward-life he rises up. Voice verily is ‘sing.’, for they call voice song. Food verily is ‘-ing’; for in food, verily, all this is set firm.

    Heaven, verily, is ‘up’; the mid-world is ‘sing-’; the earth is ‘-ing’. The sun, verily, is ‘up’; the breath of wind is ‘sing-’; fire is ‘-ing’; the Sama Veda is ‘up’; the Yajur Veda is ‘sing-’; the Rig Veda is ‘-ing’.

    In the milking, voice is the milk of him who is the milker of voice. Full of food, an eater of food he becomes, who thus knowing draws near the syllables of the up-singing as the up-singing.

    And thus let him draw near to blessing, increase, consummation. By whatever chant he is about to praise, let him have recourse to that chant. In what hymn, to that hymn; belonging to what seer, to that seer; whatever bright power he is about to praise, let him have recourse to that bright power. By whatever song he is about to praise, let him have recourse to that song; by whatever praise he is about to praise, let him have recourse to that praise. Whatever space he is about to praise, let him have recourse to that space. And at the end, approaching the Self, let him praise his desire, thinking on it, unbewildered; whatever he is intent upon, that desire may be fulfilled; with whatever desire he praises, with whatever desire he praises.

    OM: let him draw near to this imperishable syllable as the up-singing; for uttering OM he chants the up-singing. Of this, this is the subsidiary explanation or expansion. The bright powers, verily, fearing Death, entered into the threefold knowledge. They made a covering through the hymns. As they made a covering through them, this is the hymn-ship of the hymns. Them there Death,— as one might clearly behold a fish in the water,—beheld clearly; they, piercing the song, the chant, the sentence, upward from the song, the chant, the sentence, entered into the sound.

    For when one comes to the song, he utters OM besides; thus also with the chant and with the sentence. And the sound, verily, is this imperishable syllable, he, verily enters the imperishable syllable, immortal, fearless. Entering into it, the bright powers become immortal, fearless.

    He who, verily, knowing this thus, sends forth the sound’ of the imperishable syllable, he, verily, enters this imperishable syllable, the sound, immortal, fearless; entering it, he becomes immortal as the bright powers are immortal.

    But, in truth, what the up-singing is, that the forth sounding is; what the forth-sounding is, that the up-singing is. That sun

verily is the up-singing, is the forth praising for sounding OM the sun moves forward.

    ‘This, verily, have I sung; therefrom mine art thou alone’; thus said Kaushitaki to his son; ‘do thou make the rays encircle thee; for thee they shall become abundant.’ Thus much concerning the world of the bright powers.
    
    Then as to the world of self. This, verily, is the chief Life. Let one draw near to it as the up-singing. For this moves forward uttering OM.

   
‘This, verily, have I sung; therefrom mine art thou alone,’— thus said Kaushitaki to his son,—’do thou sing the lives as abundance; for thee they shall become abundant.’ Thus, indeed, what the up-singing is, that the forth sounding is. When the sacrificer is exhausted, verily, a poor up-singing will he give voice to,—a poor up-singing will he give voice to.

    This world, verily, is the song; fire is the chant. The chant is expanded in the song; therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. For the half of the chant is this earth, and half is fire,—its chant.

    The mid-world, verily, is the song; the breath of wind is the chant, the chant is expanded in the song; therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. For half of the chant is the mid-world, and half is the breath of wind,—its chant.

    The heavens, verily, are the song; the sun is the chant. The chant is expanded in the song; therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. For half of the chant is the heavens, and half is the sun,—their chant.

    The moon-houses, verily, are the song; the moon is the chant, the chant is expanded in the song; therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. For half of the chant is the moon-houses, and half is the moon, —their chant.

    And so in the sun the clear shining is the song, the indigo, very dark, is the chant. The chant is expanded in the song, therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. And so the clear shining of the sun is half of the chant, and half is the indigo, very dark,—its chant. And so the spirit who in the inner sun, is seen, gold-colored with gold-colored beard and gold-colored hair, and, down to the nails, all golden. Like flame-colored lotus are his two eyes, and Up-rising is his name; he has risen above all things perishable. He rises above all things perishable who knows thus. Of him, the song and the chant are the two singers; and from him comes the up-singing; hence the singer of the up-singing is his singer. And whatever worlds are beyond that world, them he rules and the desires of the bright powers. Thus far concerning the world of the bright powers.

    Then as to the world of self. Voice, verily, is the song; vital breath is the chant. The chant is expanded in the song, therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. Voice is half of the chant, vital breath is half,—its chant.

    Seeing, verily, is the song, the self is the chant. The chant is expanded in the song, therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. Seeing, verily, is half the chant, self is half,—its chant.

    Hearing, verily, is the song, emotion is the chant. In the song the chant is expanded, therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. Hearing is half of the chant, emotion is half,— thus the chant.

    And so what is the eye’s clear shining, that, verily, is the song; and the indigo, very dark, is the chant. The chant is expanded in the song, therefore the chant expanded in the song is sung. And what is the eye’s clear shining, that is half the chant, and the indigo, very dark, is half,—thus the chant.

    And so the spirit who in the inner eye is seen, this, verily, is the song, this the chant, this the hymn, this the sentence, this the aspiration. And the form of him is as the form of that other, and the two singers of him are the two singers of that other, and his name is the name of that other, and whatsoever worlds are after this world, them he rules, and the desires of men. And they who sing to the lyre here, him verily they sing, thence come wealth and gifts. And so he who, knowing thus, sings the chant, be sings both; through that, verily, whatever worlds there are beyond that, them he gains and the desires of the bright ones. And so through this, whatever worlds are after this, he gains them and the desires of men. So may one, who knows thus, be called a singer of the up-singing. What desire do they gain? it is said. Therefore he, verily, masters the song that fulfils desires who thus knowing sings the chant,—sings the chant.

No. 2—MARCH-APRIL, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE UP-SINGING. pgs. 26-32
Chhandogya Upanishad, I.

IT ALWAYS seemed to us that the editor of the Sacred Books of the East did some wrong to the Upanishads, to his readers,
and to himself, when he chose the preceding passage as the first to be translated in the first volume of his series. For, to the reader unaccustomed to the Upanishads, unacquainted with many rich and wonderful passages in them that throw the clearest light on each other in most unexpected ways,—unfamiliar, in a word, with many things that only long study makes manifest,—a passage like this must appear not only obscure, but irritating, even exasperating. And the passage here translated only amounts to about one-sixth of the whole disquisition on the ‘up-singing,’— all of which we must duly translate, in pursuance of our design of showing the great Upanishads as they really are, though not, perhaps, as they were once, in the days of long ago.

    If we add to the general obscurity and enigmatic character of all this, the fact that the editor of the series we have mentioned has left many words untranslated, and not only untranslated but metamorphosed by a translation incomparably capable of misleading even the elect,—then we can only wonder whether any reader of the Upanishads in that translation ever survived the first hundred pages.

    If the sincerest truth must be told, even the more hardened student, who has read the Upanishads through from cover to cover, in the original Sanskrit, is quite likely to take leave of the discussion of the ‘up-singing’ with an uneasy doubt in his mind whether these passages have any meaning at all, or mean, perhaps, something very profound, and, if the latter alternative be accepted, what precisely that very profound something is.

    The position of things is something after this wise: the Upanishads, as we have them now, are not isolated treatises, but are integral parts of longer works, half myth, half theology, which are assigned to one or other of the four Vedas,—the Rig or Veda of songs, the Sama or Veda of chants, the Vajur or Veda of sacrificial sentences, the Atharva or Veda of magical incantations. Now these longer works,—the Brahmanas, as they are called,— are really great cycles of traditional lore concerning the sacrifices, their meaning, their first institution, their mystic capabilities for milking the gods ‘—to use a chaste expression from the Veda of the songs. And we have the testimony of a Brahman, in a passage in this same Chhandogya Upanishad, that the Brahmans, who, as the sacrificial priests, were especially implicated in these theological matters, might be quite familiar with them all, might know all the songs and verses and chants and sentences by heart, and yet remain as ignorant of the real mysteries, the secrets of life and death, of life after death, and the renewal of life by rebirth, as any outer barbarian. And we generally find that, when a Brahman discovered that he had a soul, and that his soul was not to be satisfied by ‘sacrifices and pious gifts,’ even when he himself was the recipient of the said gifts and ‘eater of the leavings’ of the said sacrifices,—we generally find that the pale Brahman had to go to a Rajput, to one of the red warrior race, to learn the real mysteries.

    And we find it authentically recorded in the Upanishads, that it was in this way that the Brahmans first heard of the teaching of what we call reincarnation, and of the teaching of liberation from rebirth,—the path of the Fathers and the path of the gods,
—and, further, that the Rajput warriors had long been familiar with this teaching, and much else of high import besides.

    So that, if we interpret a mass of evidence, all pointing in one direction, aright, we shall believe that the red Rajput race were the hereditary possessors of the Greater Mysteries, the real secrets of life and death, while the Brahmans were the practicians of the lesser mysteries, of which the type, in the Upanishads, is the aforementioned ‘sacrifices and pious gifts.’

    Now we have good reason to believe that these lesser mysteries were not wholly confined to the slaughter of bulls and goats, though that was a not inconsiderable element of Brahmanical lore, and is so unto this day, as any visitor to the sacrificial shrines in India can testify; but that they included also a series of psychic secrets, such as the kindling of ‘the three fires in the body, in order to awaken psychic sight and hearing, by a process which the Upanishads condemn with sternest denunciation.

    Now this question of psychic secrets and occult arts is not an easy one for anybody to solve satisfactorily, but the truth seems to be something like this: there is a whole range of powers and faculties which properly belong to perfected man,—to man, that is, in whom the physical self, the psychic self, and the spiritual self are all fully developed, each in his own world, under the sovereighty of the divine Self, the inner Sun, the Eternal. And this sovereignty of the divine Self is the certain guarantee that all these powers and faculties shall be used only for impersonal ends, for divine purposes; for as the Self is the Self of all, no one in whom this Self is sovereign can conceivably injure another, for thus Self would injure Self.

    So that just as physical man has his right and lawful powers, psychic man and spiritual man have theirs, and when in the divine Self all these are perfected, the powers of man made perfect are of incomparable might and worth.

    This is a mighty ideal, a splendid goal; and it would seem that there is a highway to reach it: ‘The Self-being pierced the openings outwards; hence one looks outward, not within himself. A wise man with reverted sight looked towards the Self, seeking immortality.’ Or, as we would say, the way is this: A man who feels himself to be at the beginning of the way, who feels the dim, great mystery resting upon him, should rise up in spirit to the highest light within him, and, bringing the rays of that light downwards, should make it rule the whole of his life. When all his life is new-created and energized and ordered by that light, there will still be a highest light within, and this light will have moved upwards,—will be higher than it was at the beginning. So that his work will have to be done again, in the light of this higher shining. Again he must rise up to it in spirit, and again bring the rays of the light down within his life, ruling and ordering all his powers and works. At the beginning, the name of this light is conscience; later on, it is intuition; at the end, it is omniscience, almighty.

    And it would seem that, as a man does this, his psychic and spiritual being are gradually perfected, and he gradually learni to possess the new worlds that open around him. The light that was at first a dim spark within him, becomes at last a shining sea, the light ineffable of the Eternal.

    There is thus a perpetual rising up to the light, and a perpetual working downward, a bringing down of the rays until they rule the man’s life and all his works. And this would seem to be the better way, the way of wisdom and reality.

    But it seems there is another way, of which we have said something before, when speaking of the ‘kindling of the three fires.’ This lower way depends on a suppression of vital energies, or rather their diversion and concentration, until denied their normal outlet, they swell upward and, carrying their force along with them, set certain powers and energies in motion, in an abnormal way. Then ‘the seven flames rise upward’ and powers of psychic seeing and hearing are developed. And we may well believe that there are energies in the outer world which may thereby be subjected and possessed, and powers over them which may be gained. Now along with this suppression of the vital powers, there is often the tendency to borrow the vital powers of others,—of the slaughtered bulls and goats that we have spoken of before. So that whenever we find a ritual of sacrifice, that is, of slaughter, we naturally look askance at the psychic powers which are its concomitants.

    And it is this very element which is so characteristic of the works on theology that the Upanishads are now embedded in; indeed the greatest Upanishad begins, ‘Dawn is the head of the horse fit for sacrifice.’ And some of these sacrifices involved the collection of over six hundred animals of various kinds, which, however, were not slaughtered but released after the ceremony. So that it may be argued that the whole thing was organized for the purpose of instructing the people in zoology; but even if this were so, the sacrifices did undoubtedly involve the slaughter of the animals at the beginning, as they do in many Indian shrines to-day. So that the Upanishads have come down to us in the midst of a mist which is certainly tinged with the colors of the ‘lower way,’ the wisdom from beneath, earthly, sensual, devilish.

    There were undoubtedly other sacrifices, quite blameless in appearance, and their place in the Vedic ritual is very great. Such are the offerings of clarified butter to the Fire-god, and the sacred juice of the moon-plant, or the moon-fluid, to the Lord of the blue sky. Yet one has a lurking suspicion that these sacrifices also, when not mere ineffectual shows, were not quite blameless either;. for the offering of clarified butter in the fire has a strong appearance of being really a symbolical representation of that very suppression and diversion of vital force for psychic ends, which we have spoken of already, the practice which the Upanishads so vehemently condemn. And along with these sacrifices went a whole science of psychic sound and the psychic powers of intoning and incantation, from which, if our conjecture as to its origin is correct, we can hardly expect much good. And the passages in the Upanishads which deal with ‘the up-singing’ have a strong superficial resemblance to this psychic science of sound, whose origin looks to us so doubtful.
The idea of the ‘up-singing’ is this: it refers to a triple sound, or rather a series of three sounds, the first of which has affinity with the lower world, the passional nature; the second belongs to the mid-world, the emotional nature; the third to the higher world, the spiritual and intuitional nature. Now, in chanting or intoning these three sounds, if one begins at the lowest, and intones it in an effectual way, it will rouse the powers of the passional nature; a certain amount of energy thus called forth will be transferred to the emotional nature when the second sound, which answers to the emotional nature, is intoned. Thereafter the accumulated energy, according to theory, is lifted up and made available for spiritual purposes, when the third note is intoned.

    Thus the ‘up singing,’ as the name suggests, is a using of the stimulating power of sound to excite a lower energy and then to bring it upward,—from below upwards, in opposition to the divine and natural way, from above downwards. The ‘lower way’ begins with the passional energy, converts it into an emotional force, and then into a spiritual power, or at least tries to do this. The divine way, which is also the natural one, begins by reaching up to the highest shining of the spiritual nature, and allows this to work purification in the emotional nature; and by the time the emotions are pure, there is singularly little of the passional nature left. Indeed it would seem that the divine way never directly touches the passions at all, but simply allows them to be naturally effaced by the purifying of the imagination and emotion, through the working of the divine shining within. The result of this divine way, when consummated, is not an emaciated, tortured body, but a fine physical being, radiant with the health of this wholesome earth,—a physical being that is the vesture of the perfect psychic and spiritual being within and above, the whole trinity irradiated by the shining of the higher divinity, deathless, fearless.

    But there is much to show that, when the souls of the better Brahmans revolted within them against the ritual of the lower way, and they came to the Rajput seers asking for wisdom, their kingly teachers made available the knowledge the Brahmans already possessed, for the purposes of initiating them in the higher wisdom. And they seem in this way to have used the teaching of the ‘up.singing’ as a symbol for making clear the doctrine of the three worlds,—the earth world, the mid-world, and the heaven-world and especially as these worlds are symbolized, in their separation and union, in the imperishable OM. The significance of this syllable we have treated very fully already, and we need only refer back to previous explanations.

    Then the ‘up-singing’ is used to symbolize another teaching, the teaching of the formation of the worlds. In the ineffable
Eternal there are latent two creative powers, the active, energizing Life, and the passive, formative Voice,—the divine Father and Mother of another Upanishad: ‘and this pair, verily, is put forth united in the imperishable syllable OM,’ that is, in the Eternal; and from the activities of the pair, the manifested worlds arise.

    Then comes the story of the bright powers and the dark powers, whose energies are just these very contrasted qualities of life and form; form being the limitation and hindrance of life. The whole story is a strong and vivid way of saying that the fivefold lower nature of man, up to emotion, is under the sway of two-sidedness; while the spiritual self, the ‘principle Life,’ is above this two-fold alternation of ebb and flow. For ‘emotion intends and doubts,’ but strong soul ‘affirms only,’ ever certainty-souled. ‘For through this principle Life, the higher Self, one does not discern sweet savor and foul odor; for it is indeed freed from perishable-ness; and whatever this higher Self takes into his own being and possesses, through this he guards the lower lives. To this verily he attains, gaining it at the end, entering into it at the end.’

    Then there is much about contrasts and correspondences between the microcosm and the macrocosm, which contains much wisdom. It will become intelligible if we remember that ‘the sun in the heavens’ is the symbol of the higher Self in the divine world; the ‘breath of wind in the mid-space’ is the symbol of the psychic life, in the psychic world; the ‘fire of this earth’ the symbol of the vital energy of the physical life.

    Then the syllables of the name ‘up-singing’ are taken to teach the same correspondences and relations of the three worlds, whether In man or outwardly. Thus: Heaven, verily, is ‘up’; the mid-world is ‘sing-’; this Earth is ‘-ing’.

    Then a pretty expedient is used to illustrate energies and their vestures. It is well known that the verses of the Rig Veda are used as intoned chants in the Sama Veda; and the potency of the chant is said to be expanded or latent in the hymn or song; the mystic force, that is, is latent in the words. This is taken as a symbol, and an excellent one, of the whole subject of energies and their vestures, of, say, the psychic energy in the psychic body, lying latent, expanded, until wisdom comes to energize it into force. Thus ‘the mid-world’—the psychic body—’is the song’; ‘the breath’—the psychic force—’is the chant,’ lying latent. therein until called forth.

    Then there is a splendidly developed series of correspondences between macrocosm and -microcosm, leading up to the spirit of the macrocosm, described as a man, gold-colored, shining, ‘clothed with the sun’; to this corresponds the ‘man, of the color of the sun,’ who rises up immortal from the sacred fire.

    Thus, using and purifying old traditions, in teaching their pupils, the old Rajput seers made harmless through wisdom the teaching of the lower way, superseding it by the way of divinity and perfection, knowing which, a man becomes immortal.
C. J.

No. 3—MAY—JUNE, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE WARRIOR. p. 33

SEERSHIP is of the Self; actor-ship, of the powers. For, as the great King, even without being engaged himself, becomes the warrior, through his army as instrument, simply through sending them, by his command; so the steadfast Spirit, through seeing and other powers, becomes the beholder, the speaker, the willer, and takes on other powers like these, by being near only, by unison, by sending them forth, by a strong attraction, like that of the iron-loving lodestone, strong without exertion.1

1 ‘Sankya Aphorisms of Kapila, Book ii, 29, with the Commentary of Vijnana Acharya.


THE MYSTERIES OF SOUND. p. 34-42
Chhandogya Upanishad, i, 7—ii, 21.

THREE, verily, were skilled in the up-singing Shilaka Shalavatya, Chaikitayana Dalbhya, Pravahana Jaivala. They said: In the up-singing, indeed, are we skilled; let us relate the meaning in the up-singing.
                            Let it be so; said they.
                            So they took their places together. Then Pravahana Jaivala
                            said:
                            Let your honors speak first. I shall listen to the word of you
                            two Brahmans speaking.
                            So Shilaka Shalavatya said to Chaikitayana Dalbhya:
                            Let me question you.
                            Question me; said he.
                            What is the path of the chant? said he.
                            The tone; said he.
                            What is the path of the tone? said he.
                            Vital breath; said he.
                            What is the path of vital breath? said he.
                            Food; said he.
                            What is the path of food? said he.
                            The waters; said he.
                            What is the path of the waters? said he.
                            The other world; said he.
                            What is the path of the other world? said he.
    Let it not lead beyond the heaven world, said he; we shall stop at the heaven world for the chant; for the chant is the praising of the heaven world.

    To him, to Chaikitayana Dalbhya, Shilaka Shalavatya said:

    Not firmly formed, verily, is your chant, Dalbhya; for if anyone were to say now: Your head will fall off !—your head would
fall off.
                            Let me then learn it from your honor; said he.
                            Learn! said he.
                            What is the path of the other world? said he.
                            This world; said he.
                            What is the path of this world? said he.
    Let it not lead beyond the world, the foundation; said he.
We stop at the world, the foundation, for the chant. For the chant is the praise of the world.

    Then Pravahana Jaivala said to him: This chant of yours has its end, indeed, Shalavatya; if anyone were to say now: Your head will fall off!—your head would fall off.

                            Let me then learn it from your honor; said he.
                            Learn! said he.
                            What is the path of this world? said he.

    The shining-ether, said he. For all these beings come forth into being from the shining-ether; to the shining-ether they go to their setting; for the shining-ether is older than these two; the shining-ether is the supreme dwelling-place. This up-singing, in truth, is better than the highest; this is the endless; better than the highest is his, he wins worlds better than the highest, who, thus knowing, draws near to the up-singing that is better than the highest.

    After telling this to Udarashandilya, Atidhanvan Shaunaka said to him: As long as they shall know this, for your offspring, their life in this world will be better than the highest, and so in the other world. So he who, thus knowing, draws near to this, his life in this world becomes better than the highest, and so in the other world.

    When the Kurus were devastated by locusts, Ushasti Chakrayana, with his virgin wife, dwelt destitute in the village of Ibhya. He begged food of Ibhya, who was eating wild beans.
                            To him he said:
    I have no more besides these; and what is here has been set before me.

    Give some of them to me! said he.
    He gave them over to him.

    But I drink not
the liquor, for it would be impure leavings if I were to drink it; said he.
    Are not these also leavings? said he.

    No, for I could not live without eating these; said he. But I can get water when I will.

    He then, after eating, took what was still left to his wife. But she had already begged successfully, so, taking them, she laid them by.

    And he, rising early in the morning, said: If we could get food, we could get wealth; the king there is going to offer a sacrifice, and he would choose me before all the priests.

    His wife said to him: here, my lord, take these wild beans!

    Having, eaten them, he went to that extensive sacrifice. There he went on up to the up-singers who were to chant the opening song. He said to an up-singer:
    Singer of the opening song, whatever bright power follows on the opening song, if you sing the opening song without knowing this bright power, your head will fall off!

    In just the same way he said to the up-singer:
    Up-singer, whatever bright power follows on the up-singing, if you sing the up-singing without knowing this bright power, your head will fall off!

    In just the same way he said to the singer of the response: Singer of the response, whatever bright power follows on the singing of the response, if you sing the response without knowing this bright power, your head will fall off!

    They all, verily, ceased together, and sat there silent.
    Thereupon he who was offering the sacrifice said:
    I desire to know your honor!

    I am Ushasti Chakrayana; said he.

    And he said: I have sought your honor beyond all these sacrifices, but not finding you I chose others. But let your honor be mine for all the sacrifices.

    Be it so; said he. Then let these sing the chant under my direction. But as much wealth as you give to them, so much also give to me.

    Then the singer of the opening song came up to him, saying: Your honor spoke to me saying—Singer of the opening song, whatever bright power follows on the opening song, if you sing the opening song without knowing this bright power, your head will fall off !—What is that bright power?

    Life is that bright power, said he; for all these beings, verily, enter together into Life, and go forth to Life; this is that bright power. And if you had sung the opening song without knowing this bright power your head would have fallen off, as I said.

    Then the up-singer came up to him, saying: Your honor spoke to me, saying—Up-singer, whatever bright power follows on the up-singing, if you sing the up-singing without knowing this bright power your head will fall off !—What is this bright power?

    The sun-power; said he; for all these bright powers sing the sun-power when it is on high; this is the bright power which follows on the up-singing. And if you had sung the up-singing without knowing this bright power your head would have fallen off, as I said.

    Then the singer of the response came up to him: Your honor spoke to me, saying—Singer of the response, whatever bright power follows on the singing of the response, if you sing the response without knowing this bright power your head will fall off!—What is this bright power?

    The world-food; said he; for all these beings live responsive to the world-food. This is the bright power that follows on the singing of the response. And if you had sung the response without knowing this bright power your head would have fallen off, as I said.

    Then, after this, the up-singing of the dogs, Vaka Dalbhya or Glava Maitreya wandered about, studying the teachings. To him a white dog appeared. Other dogs coming up together said to him:
                            Let your honor sing food for us, for we are hungry.
                            He said to them:
                            Come to me here in the morning.

    Then Vaka Dalbhya, whose other name was Glava Maitreya, took them under his protection. Then, as those who, here, about to sing the song after outward purification, wind onwards, holding together, so they wound onwards. Then, coming together, they uttered the sound: hing!

    Hing! Om, let us eat! Om, let us drink! Om, oh bright one, Varuna, lord of the waters, Prajapati, lord of beings, Savitar, lord of
light,
bring food hither! oh lord of food, bring food hither!
                    This world, verily, is the sound—u.
                    The great breath, verily, is the sound—i.
                    The moon is the sound—atha, thus.
                   
The self is the sound—iha, here.
                   
The fire-lord is the sound—î.
                    The sun is the sound—û.
                    The pervading deities are the sounds—âu, o, i.
                    The lord of beings is the sound—hing.
                    The life is the tone.
                    The world-food is the Word, the Splendor.

    The thirteenth division of the chants without derivations, the end, is the sound—hung. In milking for this, the Word gives the milk, which is the milk of the Word. He becomes possessor of the world-food, an eater of the world-food, who knows thus this secret teaching of the chants, who knows this secret teaching.

    The drawing near to the All by the chant, truly, is good. What, truly, is good, that, they say, is the chant; what is not good, that, they say, is not the chant.

    Then they have declared this also: He approached him in song by the chant,—he approached him in song by the good. And, verily, they have also said: He approached him not in song by the chant,—he approached him not in song by the good.

    And so they have also declared: What is good is as the chant for us, it is good for us. And, verily, they have also said: What is not good is not as the chant for us,—it is not good for us.

    He, verily, who, knowing this thus, draws near to the good as the chant, it will constantly happen that the good laws will come near to him and bow down before him.

    Among the worlds, let a man draw near to the chant as fivefold.
                    Earth is the preparatory sound.
                    Fire is the opening song.
                    The Mid-world is the up-singing.
                    The Sun is the response.
                    Heaven is the cessation.

    Thus for the upward. Then for the returning:
                    Heaven is the preparatory sound.
                    The Sun is the opening song.
                    The Mid-world is the up-singing.
                    Fire is the response.
                    Earth is the cessation.
   
    The worlds build for him, both the upward and the returning, who, thus knowing, draws near to the fivefold chant among the worlds.

    In the rain, let a man draw near to the chant as fivefold.
                    The first wind is the preparatory sound.
                    Cloud is born, this is the opening song.
                    Rain falls,—this is the up-singing.
                    It lightens, it thunders,
this is the response.
                    It clears, —this is the cessation.

    It rains for him, it makes rain for him, who, thus knowing, draws near to the fivefold chant in the rain.

    In all waters, let a man draw near to the chant as fivefold.
                    The cloud that floats together is the preparatory sound.
                    What rains, this is the opening song.
                    Those that roll eastward, are the up-singing.
                    Those that roll westward, are the response.
                    The ocean is the cessation.

    He goes not forth among the waters, but becomes lord of the waters, who, thus knowing, draws near to the fivefold chant in all waters.

    In the seasons, let a man draw near to the chant as fivefold.
                    The spring is the preparatory sound.

                    The hot season is the opening song.
                    The rainy season is the up-singing.
                    The autumn is the response.
                    The cold season is the cessation.

    The seasons build for him, he becomes lord of the seasons, who, thus knowing, draws near to the fivefold chant in the seasons.

    Among animals, let a man draw near to the chant as fivefold.
                    Goats are the preparatory sound.
                    Sheep are the opening song.
                    Cows are the up-singing.
                    Horses are the response.
                    Man is the cessation.

    Animals are his, he becomes a lord of animals, who, thus knowing, draws near to the fivefold chant among animals.

    Among the lives, let a man draw near the fivefold chant as better than the highest.
                    The forward-life is the preparatory sound.
                    Formative-voice is the opening song.
                    Sight-power is the up-singing.
                    Hearing-power is the response.
                    Mind is the cessation.

    These are better than the highest. What is better than the highest becomes his, he wins worlds better than the highest, who, thus knowing, draws near to the fivefold chant as better than the highest, in the lives. Thus far for the fivefold division.

    Now for the sevenfold division. Let a man draw near to the chant as sevenfold, in the Word.
                    Whatever, in the Word, is the sound—”hung,” is the preparatory sound.
                    Whatever is “pra” is the opening song, prastava.
                   
Whatever is “a” is the onward movement, adi.
                   
Whatever is “Ut” is the up-singing, udgitha.
                   
Whatever is “prati”is the response, pratihara.
                   
Whatever is “upa” is the return, upadrava.
                   
Whatever is “ni” is the cessation, nidhana.

   
In what is milked, the Word gives the milk for him, which is the milk of the Word; a possessor of food, an eater of food he becomes, who, knowing thus, draws near to the sevenfold chant in the Word.

    And so, verily, let a man draw near to that sun as the sevenfold chant. Through that which is ever the all, the chant comes towards me; towards me, through the completely perfect one. Therein all these beings find their places; thus let a man know.

    What is before the sunrise is the preparatory sound; to this cattle are joined; therefore they utter a preparatory sound, for
they are sharers in the preparatory sound of this chant.

    What is in the first rising of the sun, is the opening song of praise; to this men are joined. Therefore they are desirous of praise, desirous of fame, for they are sharers in the opening song of this chant.

    What is at the time the cattle gather is the onward movement; to this winged ones are joined. Therefore they in the mid-world betaking themselves, unsupported, fly hither and thither. For they are sharers in the onward movement of this chant.

    What is present at midday is the up-singing; to it the bright powers are joined; therefore they are the best of the sons of the
lords of being, for they are sharers in the upsinging of this chant.

    What is above in the former part of the afternoon is the response; to this beings yet unborn are joined; therefore they are held back, and do not descend, for they are sharers in the response of this chant.

    What is above in the latter part of the afternoon, before the sunset, is the return; to it those of the forest are joined; therefore, on seeing a man, they return back to a cave, a place of shelter; for they are sharers in the return of this chant.

    What is in the first sunset is the cessation; to it the fathers are joined; therefore they place the offering of cessation for them,
for they are sharers in the cessation of this chant.

    Thus, indeed, he draws near to the sevenfold sun as the chant.

    So let a man draw near to the sevenfold chant, which is self-commensurate, beyond death.
                    The preparatory sound, hinkara, three syllables.
                    The opening song, prastava, three syllables, equal to it.
                    The onward movement, adi, two syllables.
                    The response, pratihara, four syllables; one from this makes it equal.
                    The up-singing, udgitha, three syllabus.
                    The return, upadrava, four syllables. Here there is equality by threes and threes, and one syllable is left over. The three
syllables are equal.

    The cessation, nidhana, three syllables, equal in number.
    These, verily, these make up twenty-two syllables. Twenty-one gets to the sun, for that sun is twenty-first. By the twenty-second he Wins what is beyond the sun, the paradise where there is no sorrow. Even here he gets the victory of the sun, and there is a victory beyond the victory of the sun for him who, knowing this thus, draws near to the self-commensurate sevenfold chant which is beyond death.

    This is the singing woven through the lives:
                    Mind is the preparatory sound.
                    Voice is the opening song.
                    Sight-power is the up-singing.
                    Hearing-power is the response.
                    Life is the cessation.

    He who knows thus the singing woven through the lives, becomes a lord of life, he lives his full age, he lives brilliantly, and becomes great in his offspring and cattle, great in glory.; let him be great-minded—this is the vow.

    This is the ceremonial chant woven through fire:
                    He turns the fire-stick, this is the preparatory sound.
                    Smoke is generated, this is the opening song.
                    Sparks come, this is the up-singing.
                    Red embers glow, this is the response.
                    It becomes quiescent, this is the cessation.

    He who knows thus the ceremonial chant woven through fire, becomes an eater of food in the brightness of the eternal, lives his full age, lives brilliantly, becomes great in his offspring and cattle, great in glory; let him not spit towards the fire, let him not befoul it, —this is the vow.

                    This is the great chant woven in the sun:
                    When rising, it is the preparatory sound.
                    When risen, it is the opening song.
                    At midday, it is the up-singing.
                    Afternoon is the response.
                    Sunset is the cessation.

    He who thus knows the great chant woven in the sun, radiant, an eater of food he becomes, he lives his full age, lives brilliantly, becomes great in offspring and cattle, great in glory; let him not speak evil of the fervent glowing one—this is the vow.

    This is the greatness of form woven in the rain:
                    Clouds float together, this is the preparatory sound.
                    The storm-cloud is born, this is the opening song.
                    Rain falls, this is the up-singing.
                    It lightens, it thunders, this is the response.
                    It lifts up again, this is the cessation.

    He who thus knows this greatness of form woven in rain, his form becomes great, his form becomes fair, he gathers his cattle together, be lives his full age, he becomes great through offspring and cattle, and great in fame; let him not speak evil of the power that brings rain—this is the vow.

    This is the splendor woven in the seasons:
                    The spring is the preparatory sound.
                    The hot-season is the opening song.
                    The rainy-season is the up-singing.
                    The autumn is the response.
                    The cold-season is the cessation.

    He who thus knows the splendor woven in the seasons, becomes resplendent through offspring and cattle, and brightness of the Eternal, reaches his full age, lives brilliantly, becomes great in offspring and cattle, great in glory. Let him not speak evil of the seasons.

    These are the metres, or zones, woven through the worlds:
                    The earth is the preparatory sound.
                    The mid-world is the opening song.
                    The heaven is the up-singing.
                    The spaces are the response.
                    The ocean is the cessation.

    He who thus knows the metres, or zones, woven through the worlds, becomes lord of the worlds, lives the full age, lives brilliantly, becomes great in offspring and cattle, great in glory; let him not speak evil of cattle—this is the vow.

    This is the offering to be offered among the members:
                    Hair is the preparatory sound.
                    Skin is the opening song.
                    Flesh is the up-singing.
                    Bone is the response.
                    Marrow is the cessation.

    He who thus knows the offering to be offered among the members, becomes lord of the members, his members are not deformed, he reaches the full age, and becomes great in offspring and cattle, great in glory. Let him not eat marrow throughout the year—this is the vow.

    This is the sovereignty woven in the bright powers:
                    Fire is the preparatory sound.
                    Breath is opening sound.
                    Sun is the up-singing.
                    The divisions of the sky are the response.

                    The moon is the cessation.
 
    He who thus knows the sovereignty woven in the bright powers, reaches unison, union, unity with these bright powers, lives the full age, lives brilliantly, becomes great in offspring and cattle, great in glory. Let him not speak evil of the followers of the Eternal,—this is the vow.

    This is the chant that is woven in the All.
                    The threefold wisdom is the preparatory sound.
                    These three worlds are the opening song.
                    Fire, the Breath, the Sun, this is the up-singing.
                    The divisions, the Winged ones, the Rays, this is the response.
                    The Serpents, the Singers, the Fathers, this is the cessation.

    He who thus knows the chant that is woven in the All, becomes the All. And there is the verse that goes thus:
The fivefold three, than these no other is older. He who knows this, knows all. All spaces bring offerings to him. Let a man draw near, saying: I am the All. This is the vow; this the vow.

No. 3—MAY—JUNE, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THREE, FIVE, SEVEN. pgs. 44-47
In Chhandogya Upanishad, , ii.

THE second part of the Mysteries of Sound, from the Chhandogya Upanishad, which we have just translated, fully bears out and strengthens what we have already said about the first part. To begin with, its outward character is so strange as to be almost exasperating, even to the elect; then, further, we cannot, even after we have studied the whole in the light of all similar passages of the Books of Wisdom, perfectly satisfy ourselves as to how much meaning we are to find in these allegories of the fivefold and sevenfold chant, or say quite certainly what that meaning is; or, to put the same thing another way: these particular passages on the chant form the chapters which join this Upanishad to the theological treatise which belongs to the Veda of the chants, the Brahmana of the Chhandogyas; and we cannot say with perfect assurance that they belong to the Upanishad,—in which case we should expect them to mean a great deal,—rather than to the Brahmana,—in which case we should expect them to mean considerably less, to be traditional rather than intuitional, theological rather than theosophical.

    But the truth seems to be that the position of these chapters, as transitional, between the theology of the Brahmana and the theosophy of the Upanishad, is not accidental; but rather the result, as well as the type, of the transition which actually took place in the minds of the pupils, who passed out from the theology of the old priesthood to the deeper wisdom of the warrior-kings, their initiators.

    This very transition is the subject of the story with which this second part of the Mysteries of Sound opens. The three characters in this story are the famous king-sage Pravahana, son of Jivala,—the lord of the Panchala nation,—and two Brahman priests. We shall have much to say, later on, of the kingly sage Pravahana, when we come to the most remarkable narrative in the whole of the Upanishads, wherein is related how this great teacher first disclosed to the Brahmans the twin doctrines of reincarnation and the causality of works, of Karma, and the teaching of liberation from works and from rebirth, which was the head of the threefold wisdom of the warrior race.

    We see Pravahana, in the present story, trying to open the minds of the Brahmans to the reality of the inner worlds, lying behind the outer pictorial worlds; and this effort of his is shown in the form of a debate, of question and answer in which the two Brahman priests, and afterwards the king, engaged.

    The king very courteously, if somewhat ironically, gives precedence in speech to the two priests who are presently to become his pupils; and this precedence they quite unhesitatingly accept, with an assurance quite out of proportion to their wisdom. The talk was of the “up-singing,” something of the theory and teaching of which we have already given; and the question was raised as to what the path, or resting-place, or source, of the mystic chant is.

    The mystic chant is conceived to be a sound or series of sounds, having an inherent force or power, which can be made effectual and active towards other forces and powers, to the production of results which, for the most part, in the aspiration of the Brahmans, referred to very concrete, tangible objects,—the feasts of this world and the next. The theory was that they used the powers of sound, as we use the powers of heat, for practical ends and purposes. Now what is the source or home of this admitted energy in the mystic chant? The tone; replies the priest. The latent sound, that is, or rather its quality and character; the sound being considered to be eternal, as the energy underlying it undoubtedly is. And the source or home of the tone is the voice that utters it. The source and home of the voice is the vital breath, or life, of the priest who sings the chant; this vital breath of his depends on food, that is, on his physical body; food again depends on the waters, the rains, which produce food upon the earth; and, lastly, the rains depend on the sky of heaven,— for there is nothing to show that the heaven-world meant more than the sky for the priest who asked, and the priest who answered the question, in spite of the pious desire of the latter to stop at the heaven-world and not go beyond it. That it meant the sky is clear from the answer of the first querent, that this earth is the home and resting-place of the sky; this shows that we are dealing with a world-concept of outward appearances only, which has nothing at all to do with the hidden wisdom.

    When the knowledge of the two priests has thus come to a speedy end, we are gratified by finding in them a combination rare enough,—willingness to learn, following after convicted ignorance. Then Pravahana tries to expand their narrow teaching to a better and deeper knowledge of the universe. This he does by telling them a little about the invisible radiant world, which he calls the “shining-ether,” or, more literally, the “forth-shining,” â-kâsha, from which all beings come forth, and to which they return again. The “shining-ether” is older than these two, the world and the visible heaven. He wins worlds better than the highest that his priestly pupils knew, who, knowing this hidden, radiant world, draws towards it, by strong aspiration.

    This is only a little bit of the hidden wisdom; the same teacher tells far more of it to another Brahman pupil, later on; but perhaps this little bit, containing the teaching of eternal spirit, source and home of the worlds, was as much as his scholars were then able to understand.

    Then follows another story, which is chiefly interesting for the touches of Indian life it contains; the locusts, the famine, the destitution, the pious though not very wise prince calling the priests together “to sing for rain to relieve the famine” as Shankara suggests. A more important piece of color is the idea that to the different tones or parts of the three voices in the chant were joined or correlated certain “bright powers,” whose activity followed on the singing of the chant. It is interesting that the three priests, while quite ready to chant in order to energize these powers, were equally ready to acknowledge that they knew nothing at all about them. It is also interesting to know that they expected to be well paid for their service. Then comes the mysterious Ushasti with his “virgin wife,” who, if a symbol often used is to be interpreted here also, means a purified inner nature; so that Ushasti is the type of a sage, who will enter the world only for the purpose of dwelling in the world, but remains pure from desire, for this seems to be the meaning of the parable of the beans and the drink.

    The very entertaining story of Ushasti terrifying the three priests is too simple to need a commentary; it only remains to say that the three bright powers he teaches them the meaning of,—Life, Sun, World-food—are three aspects of the same radiant hidden world that Pravahana the king opened to his two priestly pupils.

    Shankara’s Commentary on all this is very interesting, and, some day, we hope to translate it in full. We need only say here that he points out lucidly and truly that the attempt of these three priests to call forth and use the “bright powers” while ignorant of their spiritual meaning, is just one of those practices which make up “the southern path,” the path of darkness, which the pupils of wisdom are so perpetually warned to shun. This remark of Shankara’s, the truth of which we are fully prepared to recognize, has a far wider application. This sacrifice near the village of Ibhya was not exceptional at all, but quite a common and typical occurrence, the ordinary form of the ecclesiastic worship of Vedic India. Therefore Shankara’s condemnation really covers the whole ecclesiastical system, which is the true “southern path,” the path of darkness.

    Then comes the curious episode of the up-singing of the dogs, when the white dog leading, and each dog holding in his mouth, the tail of his predecessor,—as the priests in procession held in their hands the hems of each other’s white robes,— the canine up-singing is raised, “Om, let us eat and drink! Om, may the gods give us food!” This should be framed as a pendant to that other Vedic parable, where the Brahmans at their chants are likened to the green frog and the brown frog croaking round the pond, when the rain softs the mud, and they have their moist delights once more. These little pictures show that the ecclesiastical spirit underwent occasional chastening, which, we cannot doubt, proved of the highest benefit, preventing the loss of many heads, in the manner indicated by Ushasti.

    Nearly the whole of what follows these stories is quite clearly a series of exercises for students in the application of fivefold and sevenfold divisions of principles. As being most familiar, the fivefold and sevenfold division of the chant is taken as the type of a series of principles, just as we might take the seven notes of the musical scale, or the seven colors of the rainbow. And among the sevenfold divisions of the Upanishads we do find, among other series of seven, colors, tones and metals arranged in sevenfold groups.

    Thus we may easily believe that real correspondences under-lie much that is here suggested; as for instance the seasons, which, in one way, correspond with the centuries; so that the beginning of the fourth quarter of the year, as of the century, is the natural period for the initiation of moral and spiritual tendencies dealing with the hidden worlds. But the chief thought kept in view here is that each series of five or seven is in reality, only one true principle, appearing as five or seven; just as the Self appears as the spiritual self, the personal self and the animal self, but is really only one; or as the real world appears as the celestial world, the mid-world, and the physical world, but is one only. For this reason illustrations like the rain, the year and the like are taken as types of divisions into five or seven principles.

No. 3—MAY—JUNE, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

ANCIENT WISDOM. pg. 48
Tao Teh, King, Pt. I, ch,. xxii-xxiv,.

THE partial becomes complete; the crooked, straight; the empty, full; the worn out, new. He whose (desires) are few gets them; he whose (desires) are many goes astray.

    Therefore the sage holds in his embrace the one thing (of humility), and manifests it to all the world. He is free from self-display, and therefore he shines; from self-assertion, and therefore he is distinguished; from self-boasting, and therefore his merit is acknowledged; from self-complacency, and therefore he acquires superiority. It is because he is thus free from striving that therefore no one in the world is able to strive with him.

    That saying of the ancients that “the partial becomes complete” was not vainly spoken:—all real completion is comprehended under it.

    Abstaining from speech marks him who is obeying the spontaneity of his nature. A violent wind does not last for a whole morning; a sudden rain does not last for the whole day. To whom is it that these (two) things are owing? To Heaven and Earth. If Heaven and Earth cannot make such (spasmodic) actings last long, how much less can man!

    Therefore when one is making the Tao his business, those who are also pursuing it, agree with him in it, and those who are making the manifestation of its course their object agree with him in that; while even those who are failing in both these things agree with him where they fail.

    Hence, those with whom he agrees as to the Tao have the happiness of attaining to it; those with whom he agrees as to its manifestation have the happiness of attaining to it; and those with whom he agrees in their failure have also the happiness of attaining (to the Tao). (But) when there is not faith sufficient (on his part), a want of faith (in him.) ensues (on the part of the others).

    He who stands on his tiptoes does not stand firm; he who stretches his legs does not walk (easily). (So), he who displays himself does not shine; he who asserts his own views is not distinguished; he who vaunts himself does not find his merit acknowledged; he who is self-conceited has no superiority allowed to him. Such conditions, viewed from the standpoint of the Tao, are like remnants of food, or a tumor on the body, which all dislike. Hence those who pursue (the course) of the Tao do not adopt and allow them.
—Sacred Books of the East.

No. 4—JULY—AUGUST, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE PRINCE AND THE WOODMAN. p.49

A CERTAIN prince, born under an evil star, was cast out from the city, and fed by a certain woodman. So he came to think: “I am a woodman.” Knowing that he was living there, a certain minister told him: “You are no woodman, but a prince! “ And he, at once putting away the delusion that he was a woodman, takes on his true princely state, saying: “I am a King!

    Thus, indeed, through kindly teaching, the soul learns: “Thou hast, verily, been sent forth by the primal Spirit, manifest only in pure consciousness. Of that Spirit, thou art a part! “ Then putting away the delusion of its material origin, the soul declares: “In that I am a son of the Eternal, I am the Eternal, and none other; nor am I subject to birth and death!” and thus rests on its own nature.—Sankhya Aphorisms. iv, x, Commentary.

No. 4—JULY—AUGUST, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE MYSTERIES OF SOUND. p.50-52
Chhandogya Upanishad: ii, 22-24.

    I SELECT and assign the different notes of the chant.
                The animal note is the up-singing of the Fire-lord.
                The undefined note is the up-singing of the Lord of beings.
                The defined note is the up-singing of the Lunar lord.
                The note that is soft and smooth is the up-singing of the Breath-lord,
                The note that is smooth and strong is the up-singing of the Sky-lord.
                The note like the heron’s cry is the up-singing of the Great lord, the teacher.
                The falling note is the up-singing of the Lord of the great deep.
    All these notes let him practice; but the note of the Lord of the great deep, let him leave.

    Let me sing deathlessness for the bright powers ;—thus let him chant; the offering for the fathers; hope, for men; grass and water, for animals; the heavenly world, for the sacrificer; food, for myself; thus let me sing. Thinking on these things in his mind, let him praise with concentrated thought.
                All vowels are the selves of the Sky-lord.
                All breathings are the selves of the Lord of beings.
                All consonants are the selves of the Lord of death.
                Therefore, if anyone should find fault with him in the vowels, let him say to him: I have taken my refuge in the Sky-lord; he will speak against thee.

    And, if anyone should find fault with him in the breathings, let him say to him: I have taken my refuge in the Lord of beings; he will destroy thee.

    And, if anyone should find fault with him in the consonants, let him say to him: I have taken my refuge in the Lord of death; he will burn thee up.

    All the vowels are to be pronounced sonant and with force, with the words: let me give force to the Sky-lord.

    All the breathings are to be pronounced with a partial contact, with forward breath, with an expanding movement, with the words: let me give self to the Lord of beings.

    All consonants are to be pronounced with a short contact, not prolonged, with the words: let me leave the self of the Lord of death.

    There are three branches of formal duty: sacrifice, study, gifts.

    The first is fervor; the second is service of the Eternal as a pupil, and dwelling in the family of a teacher; the third is perfectly mastering self in the family of the teacher. All these bring holy worlds; he who stands in the Eternal goes to immortality.

    The Lord of beings brooded with fervor over the worlds. From them, thus brooded over with fervor, the triple science flowed forth.

    Over it he brooded with fervor. From it, brooded over with fervor, these syllables flowed forth: Bhur, Bhuvah, S’ var, that is, Earth, Mid-world, Heaven.

    Over these he brooded with fervor. From them, brooded over with fervor, the syllable OM flowed forth. And as by the leaf-stalk all leaves are joined together, so by the syllable OM the whole word is joined together. For the syllable OM is verily this all; the syllable OM is this all.

    Those who have the word of the Eternal say that the early morning oblation belongs to the powers of lights, the midday offering to the powers of the storm, and the third offering to the solar powers and the host of bright ones.

    Where, then, is the place of the sacrificer? He who knows not that, how could he perform works? Knowing thus, let him perform works:

    Before performing the early morning oblation, taking his place by the household fire, and facing the north, he intones the chant to the powers of light:

                Open wide the door of the world; let us behold thee, for power!
    Then he offers the oblation.
        Obeisance to the Lord of fire that dwells in the earth, that dwells in the world;
            find thou a world for me, the sacrificer; this is the world of the sacrificer ; I shall enter it.

    Then the sacrificer, saying:
            Draw back the bolt, at the end of my span of life !
He  rises, and the powers of light draw near to the early morning libation for him.

    Before performing the midday oblation, taking his place by the fire of offerings, and facing the north, he intones the chant to the powers of the storm :
            Open wide the door of the world; let us behold thee, for wide rule !
    Then he offers the oblation.
            Obeisance to the Lord of breath, that dwells in the mid-world,
            that dwells in the world; find thou a world for me, the sacrificer;
            this is the world of the sacrificer; I shall enter it.

    Then the sacrificer, saying:
            Draw back the bolt, at the end of my span of life!

He rises, and the powers of the storm draw near to the midday libation for him.

    Before performing the third libation, taking his place by the fire of oblations, and facing the north, he intones the chant to the powers of the sun and to the hosts of powers:
            Open wide the door of the world; let us be hold thee, for sovereignty !
    Then he offers the libation.
            Obeisance to the lords of the sun and to the hosts of powers, that
dwell in heaven, that dwell in the world; find ye a world for me, the sacrificer;
this is the world of the sacrificer; I shall enter it.

    Then the sacrificer, saying:
        Draw back the bolt at the end of my span of life !
            He rises, and the powers of the sun and the hosts of powers draw near to the third sacrifice for him.

He, verily, knows the measure of the sacrifice, who knows thus, who knows thus.

No. 4—JULY—AUGUST, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE NOTES AND THE CHANT. pgs. 52-55
In Chhandogya Upanishad, ii. 22-24.

WITH a certain feeling of gratitude to past ages and their inheritance, we are able to announce that the passages on the Mysteries of Sound are completed by the present instalment, for the time being, at any rate; so that we shall have an opportunity of going on to
something more satisfactory and tangible.

    It is not that the subject is not interesting, even fascinating; but that the conditions of things are such that we cannot reach really satisfactory and definite opinions. It is quite certain, at least, that portions of the book we are dealing with are avowedly text-books of the greater mysteries and, in our limited way, we can verify that. It is also certain that these text-books, in part at least, formed a connected course of study in a particular school. Again it is certain that the original teachers were Rajput sages ; while most of their pupils, and, in particular their successors from whom we actually received the manuscripts of these works, were men of Brahman caste or race, the descendants of the priesthood of an ancient sacrificial and ceremonial religion, the sacrificial element of which survives, in the same hands, in India to-day. And this sacrificial and ceremonial religion was fully developed, and dominant among the Brahmans, long before the first of them sat at the feet of the Rajput kings to learn the real wisdom of the better way; so that these pupils came to their masters with their minds already full of ritual, their imaginations moulded and colored by their ceremonial. Now we have the strongest reason to believe that a part, and a very important part of this ceremonial consisted of psychic mysteries of the baser sort, such as flourish abundantly in many religions at the present day, while the more innocent pomps of worship look, to say the least of it, extremely like symbolical and dramatic representations of the said psychic mysteries; in other words, the rites of the fire and the moon-fluid may be far less innocent than they look. So that, with pupils whose minds and imaginations were full of these things, the imparting of the hidden wisdom was, at the best, a matter of doubtful result; it might either lead to entire purification, compromise, or degeneration. In the first alternative, the psychic awakening already reached, might be a strong power for good; in the last, it might be a powerful instrument of evil. And this element of uncertainty could only be decided by actual experiment.

    Historically, it appears that the result was rather of the nature of a compromise. The hidden wisdom was preserved and handed down among the new pupils, but the ritual and ceremonial, with their psychic lining, were also preserved. And the work of the great teachers of later times, men like Krishna, Buddha, and Shankara, was largely devoted to an effort to re-establish a true relation between these two elements, as we shall, in due course, show by ample translation from their works.

    If the historical result was largely compromise, the literary result,—the result for the written records,—was this also. Hence we have, in the records, mixed elements; parts which clearly belong to the hidden wisdom, parts which not less clearly belong to the ceremonial ritual, and, lastly, parts the precise character of which is doubtful; they look like echoes of the ritual, yet they also look like symbols of the teaching of wisdom. For, we have had reason to believe, the teachers used the forms and pictures in the minds of their priestly pupils, as vehicles for the new teaching. We may give a striking example of this. In one passage, the re-entry of the soul into life is described; its rest in the spiritual world, its descent thence to the psychic world, and thence, through the gates of birth, to the human world. These stages of descent are being taught to a Brahman, familiar with the religion of rites and ceremonies, yet dissatisfied with it, and ready to give up everything and follow the teaching of the better way. The teaching is in this form. The spiritual world is spoken of as a sacrificial fire, and its powers as the smoke, embers, sparks and flame of the fire. The soul is said to be sacrificed in this fire, and from this sacrifice the “lunar lord “—the psychic self—comes into being. The psychic world, in which the lunar lord dwells, is again spoken of as a fire, with sparks, flame, and the rest; and, sacrificed in this fire, the lunar lord is transformed into “water,” that is, a stage between the psychic body and the embryonic form of human life. In this “water,” Shankara tells us, germinate the seeds of works done in a former birth. By passage through the third sacrificial fire, the physical world, the water becomes “food,” that is physical matter, the actual physical germ of the man who is to be born. All this is plain enough. Here is a part of the “hidden wisdom” expressed in terms of ritual ceremonial, the apparatus of the sacrificial fires and all the rest of it.

    Here arises our difficulty. We cannot tell quite certainly whether such and such a passage, equally descriptive of the old sacrificial ritual, does or does not contain a hidden meaning, and this is particularly the case with the whole series of passages on the Mysteries of Sound. Parts of it are clearly symbolical. Parts are quite doubtful and uncertain. And from this arises the unsatisfactory feeling which makes us glad to have done with it, and to get on firmer ground once more.

    The beginning of the passage just translated is fairly clear. Seven notes, which are evidently the seven notes of the musical scale, are mentioned, and each of them is correlated with a particular divinity, or power, or principle. Further on, we shall come to the same kind of correspondences with metals and colors, in each case, as in the case of the musical notes, seven in number. Now this sort of thing we are fairly able to appreciate, and we can, with a certain amount of confidence, identify the lunar lord, the lords of the sky, of breath, of fire, and the rest, and we shall find the correspondences hold good in other passages.

    But what of “hope for men, grass and water for animals, the heavenly world for the sacrificer, food for myself” ? Is this merely a prayer for wealth, for the well-being of flocks and herds, or is it symbolic? We can hardly tell.

    On the other hand, there is a very definite and profound meaning in the assignment of the elements of speech: vowels, breathings, and consonants, to the regents of the three worlds; and we may come at the meaning of this along the theory of the gradual development of human speech in the earlier races; first a period of vowels, then a period which introduced breathings and semi-vowels, and, lastly, a period which introduced consonants. This same sequence is followed, spontaneously, and by inward impulsion,—or, if it be preferred, heredity,—in the case of every infant learning to speak. The “lord of death” was the first mortal who died, the king of the first race which tasted death,—so says the old legend,—and another legend says that this was the first race whose speech materialized into consonantal sounds.

    Again, this is clearly a description of the values of sounds in incantations,—sentences chanted or musically pronounced, to produce certain effects of vibration; thus: all the vowels are to be pronounced sonant and with force, with the purpose “let me give force to the sky-lord.”

    Then follows a sublimation of the old priestly ritual of sacrifice, study, gifts into the practices of the better way, fervor, service of the Eternal, and self-mastery; a very striking example of the process we have outlined, of teaching new truths through old forms of thought and imagination. And this again is followed by the teaching of the mystic OM as symbol of the three worlds. Lastly, closing the section, we have what seems to be a description of actual elements of the old ritual worship, with its sacrificial fires and incantations, which are marked with a musical notation in the original, with special reference to the pronunciation and prolongation of the vowel-sounds.

    With a very slight permutation of images, we can easily give the whole of this ritual a symbolic sense, referring to certain processes of meditation; but whether it is intended to bear this symbolic sense is just one of those uncertainties which make this whole series of passages so unsatisfactory. We have seen before that the three fires are avowedly used as symbols, but we cannot say conclusively whether they are so here.

No. 4—JULY—AUGUST, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

FINDING THE REAL SELF. pgs. 55-57
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Cress Jewel of Wisdom. 271-300.

BONDAGE THROUGH IMAGINATION.

RECOGNIZING as thine own the hidden Self, the witness of the soul and its activities, perceiving truly “That am I,” destroy the thought of Self in all not Self.

    Give up following after the world, give up following after the body, give up following after the ritual law; make an end of transferring self-hood to these.

    Through a man’s imagination being full of the world, through his imagination being full of the ritual law, through his imagination being full of the body, wisdom, truly, is not born in him.

    For him who seeks freedom from the grasping hand of birth and death, an iron fetter binding his feet, say they who know it, is this potent triad of imaginings ; he who has got free from this enters into freedom.

    The scent of sandalwood that drives all evil odors away comes forth through stirring it with water and the like ; all other odors are driven altogether away.


   
The image of the supreme Self, stained by the dust of imaginings, dwelling inwardly, endless, evil, comes forth pure, by the stirring power of enlightenment as the scent of the sandalwood comes forth clear.

    In the net of imaginings of things not Self, the image of the Self is held back; by resting on the eternal Self, their destruction comes, and the Self shines clear.

    As the mind rests more and more on the Self behind it, it is more and more freed from outward imaginings; when imaginings are put away, and no residue left, he enters and becomes the Self, pure of all bonds.

SELFHOOD TRANSFERRED TO THINGS NOT SELF.

    By resting ever in the Self, the restless mind of him who seeks union is stilled, and all imaginings fade away; therefore make an end of transferring Selfhood to things not Self.

    Darkness is put away through force and substantial being; force, through substantial being; in the pure, substantial being is not put away; therefore, relying on substantial being, make an end of transferring Self-hood to things not Self. [80]

    The body of desire is nourished by all new works begun; steadily thinking on this, and effort-fully holding desire firm, make an end of transferring self hood to things not Self.

    Thinking: “I am not this separate life but the supreme Eternal,” beginning by rejecting all but this, make an end of transferring selfhood to things not Self; it comes from the swift impetus of imaginings.

    Understanding the all-self hood of the Self, by learning, seeking union, entering the Self, make an end of transferring selfhood to things not Self; it comes from the Self’s reflected light in other things.

    Neither in taking nor giving does the sage act at all; therefore by ever resting on the One, make an end of transferring selfhood to things not Self.

    Through sentences like “That thou art” awaking to the oneness of the Eternal and the Self, to confirm the Self in the Eternal, make an end of transferring selfhood to things not Self.

    While there yet lingers a residue undissolved of the thought that this body is the Self, carefully seeking union with the Self, make an end of transferring selfhood to things not Self.

    As long as the thought of separate life and the world shines, dreamlike even, so long incessantly, O wise one, make an end of transferring selfhood to things not Self.

    The body of desire, born of father and mother of impure elements, made up of fleshly things impure, is to be abandoned as one abandons an impure man afar; gain thy end by becoming the Eternal.

THE REAL IN THINGS UNREAL.

As the space in a jar in universal space, so the Self is to be merged without division in the Self supreme; rest thou ever thus, O sage. [290.]

   
Through the separate self gaining the Self, self-shining as a resting-place, let all outward things from a world-system to a lump of clay be abandoned, like a vessel of impure water.

    Raising the thought of “I” from the body to the Self that is Consciousness, Being, Bliss, and lodging it there, leave form, and become pure for ever.

    Knowing that “I am that Eternal’’ wherein this world is reflected, like a city in a mirror, thou shalt perfectly gain thy end.
What is of real nature, self-formed, original consciousness, second-less bliss, formless, act-less,—entering that, let a man put off this false body of desires, worn by the Self as a player puts on a costume.

    For the Self, all that is seen is but mirage; it lasts but for a moment, we see, and know it is not “I”; how could “I know all” be said of the personal self that changes every moment?

    The real “ I “ is witness of the personal self and its powers ; as its being is perceived always, even in dreamless sleep. The scripture says the Self is unborn, everlasting; this is the hidden Self, distinguished neither as what exists nor what has no existence.

    The beholder of every change in things that change, can be the unchanging alone ; in the mind’s desires, in dreams, in dreamless sleep the insubstantial nature of things that change is clearly perceived again and again.

    Therefore put away the false self-hood of this fleshly body, for the false self-hood of the body is built up by thought; knowing the Self as thine own, unhurt by the three times, undivided illumination, enter into peace.

    Put away the false selfhood of family and race and name, of form and rank, for these dwell in this body; put away the actor-hood and other powers of the body of form; become the Self whose self is part-less joy.

    Other bonds of man are seen, causes of birth and death, but the root and first form of them is selfishness. [300.]

No. 4—JULY—AUGUST, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE POWER OF MIND-IMAGES. p.58 -64
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom.—301-380.

As long as the Self is in bondage to the false personal self of evil, so long is there not even a possibility of freedom, for these two are contraries.

    But when free from the grasp of selfish personality, he reaches his real nature; Bliss and Being shine forth by their own light, like the full moon, free from blackness.

    But he who in the body thinks “this am I,” a delusion built up by the mind through darkness; when this delusion is destroyed for him without remainder, there arises for him the realization of Self as the Eternal, free from all bondage.

    The treasure of the bliss of the Eternal is guarded by the terrible serpent of personality, very powerful, enveloping the Self; with three fierce heads,—the three nature-powers; cutting off these three heads with the great sword of discernment, guided by the divine teachings, and destroying the serpent, the wise man may enter into that joy-bringing treasure.

    So long as there is even a trace of the taint of poison in the body, how can there be freedom from sickness? In just the same way, there is no freedom for him who seeks union, while selfishness endures.

    When the false self ceases utterly, and the motions of the mind caused by it come to an end, then, by discerning the hidden Self, the real truth that “I am that” is found.

    Give up at once the thought of “I”in the action of the selfish personality, in the changeful self, which is but a reflection of the real Self, destroying rest in the Self; from falsely attributing reality to which are incurred birth and death and old age, fruitful in sorrow, the pilgrimage of the soul; but reality belongs to the hidden Self, whose form is consciousness, whose body is bliss; whose nature is ever one, the conscious Self, the Master, whose form is Bliss, whose glory is unspeakable; there is no cause of the soul’s pilgrimage but the attribution of the reality of this to the selfish personality.

    Therefore this selfish personality, the enemy of the Self; like a thorn in the throat of the eater, being cut away by the great sword of knowledge, thou shalt enjoy the bliss of the Self’s sovereignty, according to thy desire.

    Therefore bringing to an end the activity of the selfish personality, all passion being laid aside when the supreme object is gained, rest silent, enjoying the bliss of the Self, in the Eternal, through the perfect Self, from all doubt free. [310.]

   
Mighty selfishness, even though cut down root and all, if brought to life again even for a moment, in thought, causes a hundred dissipations of energy, as a cloud shaken by the wind in the rainy seasons, pours forth its floods.

    After seizing the enemy, selfishness, no respite at all is to be given to it, by thoughts of sensual objects. Just this is the cause of its coming to life again, as water is of the lime tree that had withered away.

    The desirer is constituted by the bodily self; how can the cause of desire be different? Hence the motion of enticement to sensual objects is the cause of world-bondage, through attachment to what is other than Self.

    From increase of action, it is seen that the seed of bondage is energized; when action is destroyed, the seed is destroyed. Hence let him check sensual action.

    From the growth of mind-images comes the action; from action the mind-image grows; hence the man’s pilgrimage ceases not.
To cut the bonds of the world’s pilgrimage, both must be burned away by the ascetic. And the growth of mind-images comes from these two,—imagining and external action.

    Growing from these two, it brings forth the pilgrimage of the soul. The way of destroying these three in every mode of consciousness, should be constantly sought.

    By looking on all as the Eternal, everywhere, in every way, and by strengthening the mind-image of real being, this triad comes to melt away.

    In the destruction of actions will arise the, destruction of imaginings, and from this the dispersal of mind-images. The thorough dispersal of mind-images is freedom; this is called freedom even in life.

    When the mind-image of the real grows up, in the dispersal of the mind’s alarms, and the mind-image of the selfish personality melts away, as even thick darkness is quickly melted away before the light of the sun. [320.]

   
The action of the greatest darkness, the snare of unreality, is no longer seen when the lord of day is arisen ; so in the shining of the essence of second-less bliss, no bond exists nor scent of sorrow.

    Transcending every visible object of sense, fixing the mind on pure being, the totality of bliss, with right intentness within and without, pass the time while the bonds of action last.

    Wavering in reliance on the Eternal must never be allowed; wavering is death,—thus said the son of the Evolver.


   
There is no other danger for him who knows, but this wavering as to the Self’s real nature. Thence arises delusion, and thence selfish personality; thence comes bondage, and therefrom sorrow.

    Through beholding sensual objects, forgetfulness bewilders a wise man even, as a woman her favorite lover.

    As sedge pushed back does not remain even for a moment, just in the same way does the world-glamour close over a wise man, who looks away from the Real.

    If the imagination falling even a little from its aim, towards outward objects, it falls on and on, through unsteadiness, like a player’s fallen on a row of steps.

    If the thought enters into sensual objects, it becomes intent on their qualities; from this intentness immediately arises desire, and, from desire, every action of man.

    Hence than this wavering there is no worse death, for one who has gained discernment, who has beheld the Eternal in spiritual concentration. By right intentness he at once gains success; be thou intent on the Self, with all carefulness.
Then comes loss of knowledge of one’s real being, and he who has lost it falls; and destruction of him who thus falls is seen, but not restoration [330.]

   
Let him put away the willful motions of the mind, the cause of every evil act; he who has unity in life, has unity after his body is gone. The scripture of sentences says that he who beholds difference has fear.

    Whenever even a wise man beholds difference in the endless Eternal, though only as much as an atom, what he beholds through wavering becomes a fear to him through its difference.

    All scripture, tradition and logic disregarding, whoever makes the thought of self in visible things, falls upon sorrow after sorrow; thus disregarding, he is like a thief in darkness.

    He whose delight is attachment to the real, freed, he gains the greatness of the Self, eternal; but he who delights in attachment to the false, perishes; this is seen in the case of the thief and him who is no thief.

    The ascetic, who has put away the cause of bondage,—attachment to the unreal,—stands in the vision of the Self, saying, “this Self am I’’; this resting in the Eternal, brings joy by experiencing it, and takes away the supreme sorrow that we feel, whose cause is unwisdom.

    Attachment to the outward brings as its fruit the perpetual increase of evil mind-images. Knowing this and putting away outward things by discernment, let him place his attachment in the Self forever.

    When the outward is checked, there is restfulness from emotion when emotion is at rest, there is vision of the supreme Self. When the Self is seen, the bondage of the world is destroyed; the checking of the outward is the path of freedom.

    Who, being learned, discerning between real and unreal, knowing the teaching of the scripture, and beholding the supreme object with understanding, would place his reliance on the unreal, even though longing to be free,—like a child, compassing his own destruction.

    There is no freedom for him who is full of attachment to the body and its like; for him who is free, there is no wish for the body and its like; the dreamer is not awake, he who is awake dreams not; for these things are the opposites of each other.

    Knowing the Self as within and without, in things stable and moving,—discerning this through the Self, through its comprehending all things,—putting off every disguise, and recognizing no division, standing firm through the perfect Self—such a one is free. [340.]

   
Through the All-self comes the cause of freedom from bondage; than the being of the All-self there is no other cause; and this arises when there is no grasping after the outer ; he gains the being of the All self by perpetually resting on the Self.

    How should cessation of grasping after the outer not fail for him who, through the bodily self remains with mind attached to enjoyment of outward objects, and thus engages in action. It can only be effort-fully accomplished by those who have renounced the sensual aims of all acts and rites, who are perfected in resting on the eternal Self, who know reality, who long for reality and bliss in the Self.

    The scripture that speaks of “ him who is at peace, controlled,” teaches the ecstasy of the ascetic, whose work is the study of wisdom, to the end of gaining the All-self.

    The destruction of personality which has risen up in power cannot be done at once, even by the learned, except those who are immovably fixed in the ecstasy which no doubt can assail, for the mind-images are of endless rebirth.

    Binding a man with the delusion of belief in his personality, through the power that veils, the power that propels casts him forth, through its potencies.

    The victory over this compelling power cannot be accomplished, until the power that veils has come to cessation with residue. The power that veils is, through the force of its own nature, destroyed, when the seer is discerned from what is seen, as milk is distinguished from water.

    Perfect discernment, born of clear awakening, arises free from doubt, and pure of all bondage, where there is no propelling power towards delusive objects, once the division is made between the real natures of the seer and what is seen; he cuts the bonds of delusion that glamour makes, and, after that, there is no more pilgrimage for the free.


   
The flame of discernment of the oneness of the higher and the lower, burns up the forest of unwisdom utterly. What seed of the soul’s pilgrimage can there be for him who has gained being in which there is no duality?

    And the cessation of the veiling power arises from perfect knowledge; the destruction of false knowledge is the cessation of the pain engendered by the propelling power.

    The triple error is understood by knowing the real nature of the rope; therefore the reality of things is to be known by the wise to the end of freedom from bondage. [350]

    As iron from union with fire, so, from union with the real, thought expands as material things; hence the triple effect of this, seen in delusion, dream, desire, is but a mirage.

    Thence come all changing forms in nature beginning with personality and ending with the body, and all sensual objects; these are unreal, because subject to change every moment; but the Self never changes.

    Consciousness, eternal, non-dual, part-less, uniform, witness of intellect and the rest, different from existent and non-existent ; its real meaning is the idea of “I”; a union of being and bliss,—this is the higher Self.

    He who thus understands, discerning the real from the unreal, ascertaining reality by his own awakened vision, knowing his own Self as part-less awakening, freed from these things reaches peace in the Self.

    Then melts the heart’s knot of unwisdom without residue, when, through the ecstasy in which there is no doubt, arises the vision of the non-dual Self.

    Through the mind’s fault are built the thoughts of thou and I and this, in the supreme Self which is non-dual, and beyond which there is nothing; but when ecstasy is reached, all his doubts melt away through apprehension of the real.

    Peaceful, controlled, possessing the supreme cessation, perfect in endurance, entering into lasting ecstasy, the ascetic makes the being of the All-self his own; thereby burning up perfectly the doubts that are born of the darkness of unwisdom, he dwells in bliss in the form of the Eternal, without deed or doubt.

    They who rest on the Self that is consciousness, who have put away the outward, the imaginations of the ear and senses, and selfish personality, they, verily, are free from the bonds and snares of the world, but not they who only meditate on what others have seen.

    The Self is divided by the division of its disguises; when the disguises are removed, the Self is lonely and pure; hence let the wise man work for the removal of the disguises by resting in the ecstasy that is free from doubt.


   
Attracted by the Self the man goes to the being of the Self by resting on it alone; the grub, thinking on the bee, builds up the nature of the bee. [360.]

    The grub, throwing off attachment to other forms, and thinking intently on the bee, takes on the nature of the bee; even thus he who seeks for union, thinking intently on the reality of the supreme Self, perfectly enters that Self, resting on it alone.

    Very subtle, as it were, is the reality of the supreme Self, nor can it be reached by gross vision; by the exceedingly subtle state of ecstasy it is to be known by those who are worthy, whose minds are altogether pure.

    As gold purified in the furnace, rids itself of dross and reaches the quality of its own self, so the mind ridding itself of the dross of subtance, force and darkness, through meditation, enters into reality.

    When purified by the power of uninterrupted intentness, the mind is thus melted in the Eternal, then ecstasy is purified of all doubt, and of itself enjoys the essence of second-less bliss.

    Through this ecstasy comes destruction of the knot of accumulated mind-images, destruction of all works; within and without, for ever and altogether, the form of the Self becomes manifest, without any effort at all.

    Let him know that thinking is a hundred times better than scripture; that concentration, thinking the matter out, is a hundred thousand times better than thinking; that ecstasy free from doubt is endlessly better than concentration.

    Through unwavering ecstasy is clearly understood the reality of the Eternal, fixed and sure. This cannot be when other thoughts are confused with it, by the motions of the mind.

    Therefore with powers of sense controlled enter in ecstasy into the hidden Self, with mind at peace perpetually; destroy the darkness made by beginningless unwisdom, through the clear view of the oneness of the real.

    The first door of union is the checking of voice, the cessation of grasping, freedom from expectation and longing, the character bent ever on the one end.

    A centering of the mind on the one end, is the cause of the cessation of sensuality; control is the cause that puts an end to imaginings; by peace, the mind-image of the personality is melted away; from this arises unshaken enjoyment of the essence of bliss in the Eternal for ever, for him who seeks union; therefore the checking of the imagination is ever to be practiced effort-fully, O ascetic [370.]

   
Hold voice in the self, hold the self in intellect, hold intellect in the witness of intellect, and, merging the witness in the perfect Self, enjoy supreme peace.

    The seeker for union shares the nature of each disguise,—body, vital breath, sense, mind, intellect,—when his thoughts are fixed on that disguise.

    When he ceases from this sharing, the ascetic reaches perfect cessation and happiness, and is plunged in the essence of Being and Bliss.

    Renouncing inwardly, renouncing outwardly,—this is possible only for him who is free from passion; and he who is free from passion renounces all attachment within and without, through the longing for freedom.

    Outward attachment arises through sensual objects; inward attachment, through personality. Only he who, resting in the Eternal, is free from passion, is able to give them up. Freedom from passion and awakening are the wings of the spirit. O wise man, understand these two wings For without them you cannot rise to the crown of the tree of life.

    Soul-vision belongs to him who is free from passion; steady inspiration belongs to the soul-seer. Freedom from bondage belongs to the reality of inspiration; enjoyment of perpetual bliss belongs to the Self that is free.

    I see no engenderer of happiness greater than freedom from passion for him who is self-controlled ; if very pure inspiration of the Self be joined to it, he enters into the sovereignty of self-dominion. This is the door of young freedom everlasting. There do thou ever fix thy consciousness on the real self, in all ways free from attachment to what is other than this, for the sake of the better way.

    Cut off all hope in sensual objects which are like poison, the cause of death; abandon all fancies of birth and family and social state ; put all ritual actions far away; renounce the illusion of self-dwelling in the body, centre the consciousness on the Self. Thou art the seer, thou art the stainless, thou art in truth the supreme, second-less Eternal.

    Firmly fixing the mind on the goal, the Eternal, keeping the outward senses in their own place, with form unmoved, heedless of the body’s state, entering into the oneness of Self and Eternal by assimilating the Self and rising above all differences, for ever drink the essence of the bliss of the Eternal in the Self. What profit is there in other things that give no joy? [380.]


No. 5—SEPTEMBER—OCTOBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

THE SOUL AND THE SELF. p.1

THE oneness of the soul with the Self is already a fact, and not a thing that requires a further effort to bring about; and therefore the recognition of the truth of the text “That thou Art” is sufficient to put an end to the personality of the soul, in the same way as the recognition of the piece of rope is sufficient to abolish the snake that fictitiously represents itself in place of the piece of rope. No sooner is the personality of the soul denied than the whole empirical habitual order of life disappears with it, to make up which the lower and plural manifestation of the Self falsely presents itself.—Shankara, on the Vedanta Sutras.

HONEY FOR THE GODS. pgs.2-4
Chhandogya Upanishad. iii, I-II.

THAT sun is honey for the bright powers; the heaven is the curved support of it; the mid-world is the comb; the beams are the young.

    The rays of it that are eastward are the eastern honey-channels; the hymns are the honey-makers the Veda of the hymns is the blossom; the nectars are the waters.

    And these, verily, the hymns brooded over the Veda of the hymns. From it, brooded over fervently, glory, radiance, power, valor, food and essence were brought forth. This oozed out; this spread itself round the sun; and it is this that is the sun’s red form.

    Likewise the rays of it that are southward are the southward honey-channels; the sentences are the honey-makers; the Veda of the sentences is the blossom ; the nectars are the waters.

    And these, verily, the sentences brooded over the Veda of the sentences. From it, brooded over fervently, glory, radiance, power, valor, food and essence were brought forth. This oozed out; this spread itself round the sun; and it is this that is the sun’s clear form.

    And so the rays of it that are westward are the westward honey-channels; the chants are the honey-maker. the Veda of the chants is the blossom; the nectars are the waters.

    And these, verily, the chants brooded over the Veda of the chants. From it, brooded over fervently, glory, radiance, power, valor, food and essence were brought forth. This oozed out; this spread itself round the sun; and it is this that is the sun’s dark form.

    And so the rays of it that are northward are the northward honey-channels; the formulas are the honey-makers; the histories and traditions are the blossom; the nectars are the waters.

    And these, verily, the formulas brooded over the histories and traditions; wherefrom, brooded over fervently, glory, radiance, power, valor, food and essence were brought forth. This oozed out; this spread itself round the sun; and it is this that is the sun’s very dark form.

    And so the rays of it that are upward are the upward honey-channels; the secret instructions are the honey-makers; the Eternal is the blossom; the nectars are the waters.

    And these, verily, the secret instructions brooded over the Eternal. From it, brooded over fervently, glory, radiance, power, valor, food and essence were brought forth. This oozed out; this spread itself round the sun; and it is this that throbs, as it were, in the heart of the sun. They, these secret instructions, are the essence of essences; for the Vedas are the essences, and these are the essence of them; and they, these secret instructions, are the nectar of nectars; for the Vedas are nectars, and these are the nectar of them.

    And this first nectar, the powers of the earth live on, with the Fire-lord as their leader. These bright powers do not indeed eat nor drink, but beholding the nectar they are satisfied. This form, verily, they gather together into, and from this form they rise again.

    He who knows this nectar thus, becoming one of the powers of the earth with the Fire-lord as leader, beholding this nectar, is satisfied. He who enters into this form and again rises up from this form, as long as the sun shall rise in the east and go to its setting in the west, so long shall be enjoy lordship and sovereignty among the powers of the metals.

    And this second nectar, the powers of the breaths live on, with the Sky-lord as their leader. These bright powers do not indeed eat nor drink, but beholding the nectar they are satisfied. This form, verily, they gather together into, and from this form they rise again.

    He who knows this nectar thus, becoming one of the powers of the breaths with the Sky-lord as leader, beholding this nectar, is satisfied. He who enters into this form and again rises up from this form, as long as the sun shall rise in the east and set in the west, twice as long shall it rise in the south and set in the north; so long shall he enjoy lordship and sovereignty among the powers of the breaths.

    And this third nectar the powers of light live on, with the Lord of the deep as their leader. These bright powers do not indeed eat nor drink, but beholding the nectar they are satisfied. This form, verily, they gather together into, and from this form they rise again.

    He who knows this nectar thus, becoming one of the powers of light with the Lord of the deep as leader, beholding this nectar, is satisfied. He who enters into this form and again rises up from this form, as long as the sun shall rise in the south and set in the north, twice as long shall it rise in the west and set in the east; so long shall he enjoy lordship and sovereignty among the sons of the great mother.

    And the fourth nectar the powers of the air live on, with the lunar Lord as their leader. These bright powers do not indeed eat nor drink, but beholding this nectar they are satisfied. This form, verily, they gather together into, and from this form they rise again.

    He who knows this nectar thus, becoming one of the powers of the air, with the lunar Lord as leader, beholding this nectar, is satisfied. He enters into this form and again rises up from this form; as long as the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, twice as long shall it rise in the north and set in the south; so long shall he enjoy lordship and sovereignty among the powers of the air.

    And the fifth nectar the powers called the perfect live on, with the Evolver as their leader. These bright powers do not indeed eat nor drink, but beholding this nectar they are satisfied. This form, verily, they gather together into, and from this form they rise again.

    He who knows this nectar thus, becoming one of the powers called the perfect, with the Evolver as leader, beholding this nectar, is satisfied. He enters into this form, and again rises up from this form; as long as the sun shall rise in the north and set in the south, twice as long shall it rise above and set below; so long shall he enjoy lordship and sovereignty among the powers called the perfect.

    Then after that rising above, it shall rise no more nor set any more, but shall stand alone in the centre.
    And there is this verse:

    Nor, verily, is there any setting of the sun nor rising forever. May the bright powers be my witness that by this truth I may not fail to gain the Eternal.

    For him it rises not nor sets, but it is day, once for all, for him who thus knows this hidden wisdom of the Eternal.

    This is the teaching that the Evolver taught to the Lord of beings; the Lord of beings taught it to primeval man; primeval man taught it to the descendants. This teaching of the Eternal the father declared to his eldest son, to Uddalaka the son of Aruna. This teaching of the Eternal let the father teach to his eldest son, or to a fully qualified pupil, but by no means to any other, even if he should give him this whole earth encircled by the waters, or even more than this, or even more than this.


No. 5—SEPTEMBER—OCTOBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

THE VESTURES OF THE SUN. pgs. 5-8
In Chhandogya Upanishad, iii, I-II.

HAPPILY, we are done with the Mysteries of Sound, not the least of the mysteries concerning which is—whether they contain any mystery at all. The new chapter of the Upanishad, beginning with “the sun, honey for the gods,” lands us once more on familiar ground. We recognize the perfectly definite type of teaching by allegory which runs through the Secret Instructions from beginning to end. There is one thing to be noted about the form of this teaching. In our day, we are under the dominion of the discursive reason, the most self-assertive and yet the least effectual of all the powers of the soul. Our discursive reason stands on guard in the ante-room and will let no truths pass into the chamber of the affirming soul without challenging it. One would think—indeed most people have come to think—that the discursive reason is really the knower and master of knowledge, so successfully does this intruder arrogate rights which really belong to quite another, the affirming soul, or intuitive will. This usurpation by discursive reason breeds such a temper in us that we must take all our teaching in the form of argument or proof; not remembering that most arguments live to be out argued; most proofs to be disproved; not remembering also that the validity of argument and proof can never be demonstrated without argument, that is, can never be established independently. Hence all our books which are supposed to contain the most modern truth, appeal almost wholly to discursive reason, they are full of sentences hard and unlovely, without trace of heart or beauty, like the discursive reason itself.

    But the teaching of the old books of hidden wisdom give us truth in quite another way, they are full of form and colors; they give us a picture full of life for the imagination to hold and brood over ; they teach in parables of such perfect form as to remain unbroken and undiminished in the memory of the ages, where an argument would be wholly out of fashion in a hundred years.

    Such a parable is this teaching of “the honey of the gods.’’ Our discursive reason, with its pretty affectation of preciseness, would speak of the macrocosm as an accumulation of vital entities or some such resonant phrase; the books of wisdom call it a cluster of celestial bees. Then again, we would use the numbers to determine the grade and development of life ; they use the great Vedas, whose order was in everyone’s mind, and they supplement this with a classification of colors. We would speak of the fifth plane of manifestation, counting from above; they say rather the ruddy vesture of the sun. We would speak of the initial point of evolution, instead they give us the heavenly east, rosy with the dawn. It cannot be denied that the advantage, in beauty as well as endurance, is all on the side of the old books. Images like the dawn and the honey-makers and the sun will always be fresh and vivid, while it becomes almost impossible to identify the phrases of discursive reason, once they are out of date. This is the pitfall our theologies have fallen into. If they had held to the parables, they would have escaped it.

    To come back to the parable; it is really double, and suggests a development in understanding by a simple transition in imagery. There is first this ‘picture: the blue dome or sphere of the sky, with the radiant sun in mid-heaven, at the summit of the blue dome, then mid-world, the world of all the powers of the soul, suspended, as it were, within the blue sphere beneath the golden sun. In this mid-world the celestial energies are at work, as the bees in the hive; the mid-world is the field of the great world-battle, where the powers tend upwards towards the celestial, downwards towards the earthly, with its type, the red fire of earth. Then, within the sphere of the sky, we are to figure five groups of rays, radiating from the sun, eastwards, southwards, westwards, northwards, and upwards, somewhat like a five-pointed star, with the fifth point upwards, if we were to render this image in a diagram of forms and colors.

    Having gone so far, the teaching passes through a transition. The form of the diagram gives place to another, which we may fitly describe as the imagery of the vestures of the sun. The sun, here, as elsewhere, seems to mean three things: first, the natural sun in the sky; secondly the “little world of man,” and, lastly, the spiritual sun, the great world, the macrocosm. First, the natural sun; though here we need not press the point, too far. There is, first and outermost, the red vesture of the sun, the chromosphere, as it is called nowadays; the garment of red incandescent gas which is seen fringing the sun when the great body of solar light is obscured in eclipse. Then follows, within and covered by this red vesture, the white and shining garment of the sun, the photo-sphere as we call it, from which comes the great body of sunlight. Within this, the dark garment of the sun; when the bright shining photosphere is torn, it is seen here and there as dark sun-spots, with yet darker centres. It is quite well known that the old Chaldeans watched and recorded these dark rents in the sun’s bright vesture, and we cannot doubt that they were as well known to the sages of the Upanishads, whom we hold for many reasons to have been the Chaldeans’ kin. The spots have, quite clearly defined, a darker centre, which is doubtless the “very dark” vesture of the sun seen through them, as they themselves are seen through the white vesture of light. Lastly, the heart of the sun, which “throbs in the centre,” from whose regular pulsation in systole and diastole arises the quite regular variations in the sun spots, the sun’s magnetism and power, with answering changes in the magnetism and climatic and vital conditions of the earth.

    This very clear teaching as to the sun, which is only introduced incidentally in the last half-sentence of each paragraph of the complete parable, is not all that we are told of solar life. These vestures of the sun are not mere dead garments of matter, for in truth there is no dead matter in the universe; they are rather hosts of powers, in ascending grades, whose names we have translated as: the powers of earth, the powers of the breath, the powers of light, the powers of air, and the powers called perfect; each host has its own leader, and the lives of these hosts make up the vestures and vital energies of the sun.

    As in every true parable, this imagery applies to many things. It is true of the sun; it is true also of the world of man. Man also, like the sun, wears many vestures. Here the vestures spoken of are the psychic bodies, not so much viewed as they are in any man at one time, but rather such as they successively become, as the man reaches wider and loftier development. There is first the ruddy psychic vesture of the pupil, the purified seeker after wisdom and power; then the white and luminous vesture “of the color of the sun” of the sage who has reached full illumination; then above these, vestures not manifest, dark with exceeding brightness, of the just men made perfect, who have passed to the other side. Lastly, the great heart universal, that throbs in the centre. It will be seen that here is no question of the physical body. It is replaced by the fire-lord, the vital fire which is the life within the body by which the body is upheld; of which, indeed, the body is only the image made outwardly apparent. What is said as to those who know these nectars, who wear these vestures, becoming one with each grade of powers in turn, refers, if we understand it aright, to the teaching that the advancing soul, as it goes onward on the path, becomes possessed not merely of a group of abstract truths,—mere formulas of the universe,—but rather of vital powers, energies, living forces. This, we think, is the lordship and sovereignty among the powers of the breath, or the powers of the great deep, which is promised to him who gains the knowledge of each successive vesture; and the knowledge of these vestures can only be gained in one way,—by wearing them.

    There is only one thing more to be touched on in this parable: the curious sentences about the sun rising now in one, now in another quarter of the sky, and the length of the period he rises in each. This again seems to bear manifold meanings. First, we have the traditions of old that the actual rising and setting of the sun has changed within man’s memory; if this be alluded to, we may raise the question of the length of the period during which each point of rising and setting endured, and we may, along this path, come upon the traces of some great cyclic law. Or again we may take these sentences as figures of the superior endurance and excellence of each vesture over that which precedes it; of each world over the world directly beneath it in the chain of globes. The commentator follows this view, taking these “vestures of the sun “ to be the various worlds of works, or paradises; the time of their endurance being the measure of the efficacy of their energies, when compared to the energies of the outermost world. So that the energies of the first paradise, the world next above, or within this, would have twice the efficacy of this world’s powers; and so on with the others.

    That we are here dealing with a cycle of successive illuminations or initiations is evident from the closing sentences of the parable. Of him who has entered into, and risen up from, each vesture in succession, it is said that his sun, rising above, shall rise no more nor set any more, but shall stand alone in the centre; for him it rises not nor sets, but is day once for all, for him who thus knows this hidden wisdom of the Eternal.

    This sun is indeed the Eternal, the supreme self the spiritual shining which has illumined every vesture and at last has filled the whole sky, shining overhead, to endure everlastingly. When that perfect shining has come, there is no more rising nor setting, no birth nor death, nor do those who have seen that day go out any more from the light. We are still further assured of the profound significance of this parable by the origin which is assigned to it at the close. It is part of that primeval wisdom which the great powers guiding evolution disclosed to the first man, from whom it has been handed down regularly in descent, from teacher to worthy pupil.
We have simply outlined three of the meanings which this parable visibly bears; but this does not by any means exhaust its significance, nor have we said nearly all that might be said of the meanings already traced. It is a part of the virtue of these old mystery teachings, that they are quite inexhaustible; every advance in enlightment gives us a new insight into their meanings. What new insights we shall gain, not only into this pictured type of the world, but into the world thus typified, before we have gained sovereignty and lordship among the powers called the perfect, we can as yet but dimly guess.

No. 5—SEPTEMBER—OCTOBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

FREE EVEN IN LIFE. pgs. 9-13
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom, 381—440.

CEASING to feed the imagination on things not Self, full of darkness, causing sorrow, bend the imagination on the Self, whose form is bliss, the cause of freedom.

    This is the self luminous, witness of all, ever shining through the veil of the soul; making the one aim this Self, that is the contrary of all things unreal, realize it by identification with its part-less nature.

    Naming this from its undivided being, its freedom from all other tendency, let him know it clearly from being of the own nature of Self.

    Firmly realizing self-hood in that, abandoning self-hood in the selfish personality, stand towards it as a disinterested onlooker stands towards the fragments of a broken vase.

    Entering the purified inner organ into the witness whose nature is the Self, who is pure awakening, leading upward step by step to unmoving firmness, let him then gain vision of perfection.

    Let him gain vision of the Self, freed from all disguises built up by ignorance of the Self,—body, senses, vitality, emotion, personality—the Self whose nature is part-less and perfect like universal ether.

    The ether, freed from its hundred disguises,—water-pots, jars, corn-measures and the like—is one and not divided, thus also the pure supreme, freed from personality, is one.

    All disguises beginning with the Evolver and ending with a log are mirage only; therefore let him behold his own. perfect Self, standing in the Self’s oneness.

    Whatever by error is built up as different from that, is in reality that only, not different from that. When the error is destroyed, the reality of the snake that was seen shines forth as the rope; thus the own-nature of all is the Self.

    The Evolver is the Self, the Pervader is the Self, the Sky-lord is the Self, the Destroyer is the Self; all this universe is the Self; there is
nothing but the Self. [390.]

    Inward is the Self, outward also is the Self; the Self is to the east, the Self is also to the west. The Self is to the south, the Self is also to the north. The Self is above, the Self is beneath.

    Just as wave and foam, eddy and bubble are in their own nature water; so, from the body to the personality, all is consciousness, the pure essence of consciousness.

    Being verily is all this world, that is known of voice and mind, there is nothing else than Being, standing on nature’s other shore. Are cup and water-pot and jar anything but earth? He who is deluded by the wine of glamour speaks of “thou “ and “I.”

    “When by repeated effort nought remains but this,” the scripture says, declaring absence of duality, to put an end to false transference of reality.

    Like the ether, free from darkness, free from wavering, free from limits, free from motion, free from change ; having neither a within nor a without, having no other than it, having no second, is the Self, the supreme Eternal; what else is there to be known.

    What more is there to be said? The Eternal, the Life, the Self is seen here under many forms; all in this world is the Eternal, the second-less Eternal, the scripture says “I am the Eternal,’’ knowing this clearly, those whose minds are awakened, who have abandoned the outward, becoming the Eternal, dwell in the Self, which is extending consciousness and bliss. This, verily, is sure.

    Kill out desire that springs up through thought of self in the body formed of darkness, then violent passion in the formal body woven of the breath. Knowing the Self whose fame is sung in the hymns, who is eternal and formed of bliss, stand in the being of the Eternal.

    As long as the son of man enjoys this body of death, he is impure; from the enemies arises the weariness that dwells in birth and death and sickness. When he knows the pure Self of benign form, immovable, then he is free from these ;_thus says the scripture too.

    When all delusive qualities attributed to the Self are put away, the Self is the supreme eternal, perfect, second-less, changeless.
When the activity of the imagination comes to rest in the higher Self, the Eternal that wavers not, then no more wavering is seen, and vain words only remain. [400.]

    The belief in this world is built up of unreality. In the one substance, changeless, formless, undifferentiated, what separateness can exist?

    In the one substance, in which no difference of seer, seeing, seen, exists, which is changeless, formless, undifferentiated, what separateness can exist?

    In the one substance, like the world-ocean full to overflowing, changeless, formless, undifferentiated, whence can separateness come?

    Where the cause of delusion melts away, like darkness in light, in the second-less, supreme reality, undifferentiated, what separateness can there be?

    In the supreme reality, the very Self of oneness, how could any word of difference dwell? By whom is difference perceived in purely blissful dreamlessness?

    For this world no longer is, whether past, present, or to come, after awakening to the supreme reality, in the real Self, the Eternal, from all wavering free. The snake seen in the rope ‘exists not, nor even a drop of water in the desert mirage, where the deer thirsts.

    This duality is mere glamour, for the supreme reality is not two fold; thus the scripture says, and it is directly experienced in dreamlessness.

    By the learned it has been perceived that the thing attributed has no existence apart from the substance, as in the case of the serpent and the rope. The distinction comes to life through delusion.

    This distinction has its root in imagining; when imagining ceases it s no more. Therefore bring imagining to rest in the higher Self whose form is concealed.

    In soul vision the wise man perceives in his heart a certain wide-extending awakening, whose form is pure bliss, incomparable, the other shore, for ever free, where is no desire, limitless as the ether, part-less, from wavering free, the perfect Eternal. [410.]

   
In soul-vision the wise man perceives in his heart the reality free from growth and change, whose being is beyond perception, the essence of equalness, unequalled, immeasurable, perfectly taught by the words of inspiration, eternal, praised by us.

    In soul-vision the wise man perceives in his heart the unfading, undying reality, which by its own being can know no setting, like the shimmering water of the ocean, bearing no name, where quality and change have sunk to rest, eternal, peaceful, one.

    Through intending the inner mind to it, gain vision of the Self in its own form, the part-less sovereignty. Sever thy bonds that are stained with the stain of life, and effortfully make thy manhood fruitful.

    Standing in the Self, realize the Self in being, the Self from every disguise set free, Being, Consciousness, Bliss, the second-less; thus shalt thou build no more for going forth.

    The mighty soul no more regards this body, cast aside like a corpse, seen to be but the shadow of the man, come into being as his reflection, through his entering into the result of his works.

    Drawing near to the eternal, stainless awakening, whose nature is bliss, put very far away this disguise whose nature is inert and foul; nor let it be remembered again at all, for the remembrance of what has been cast forth builds for disdain.

    Burning this up with its root in the flame of the real Self, the unwavering Eternal, the wise man stands excellent as the Self, through the Self which is eternal, pure, awakening bliss.

    The body is strung on the thread of works already done, and is impure as the blood of slaughtered kine; whether it goes forward or stands, the knower of reality regards it not again, for his life is dissolved in the Eternal, the Self of bliss.

    Knowing the part-less bliss, the Self, as his own self, with what desire or from what cause could the knower of reality cherish the body?

    Of the perfect adept this is the fruit, of the seeker for union, free even in life,—to taste without and within the essence of being and bliss in the Self. [420.)

    The fruit of cleanness is awakening, the fruit of awakening quiescence; from realizing the bliss of the Self comes peace, this fruit, verily, quiescence bears.

    When the latter of these is absent, the former is fruitless. The supreme end is the incomparable enjoyment of the Self’s bliss.
The famed fruit of wisdom is not to tremble before manifest misfortune. The various works that were done in the season of delusion, worthy of all blame,—how could a man design to do them after discernment has been gained?

    Let the fruit of wisdom be cessation from unreality, a continuation therein is the fruit of unwisdom;—this is clearly seen. If there be not this difference between him who knows and him who know not, as in the presence of the mirage to the thirsty deer, where is the manifest fruit of wisdom?

    If the heart’s knot of unwisdom be destroyed without remainder, how could sensual things cause continuance in unreality, in him who has no desire ?

    When mind-images arise not in the presence of sensual things, this is the limit of purity ; when the personal idea does not arise, this is the limit of illumination. When life-activity that has been dissolved does not arise again, this is the limit of quiescence.

    He whose thought is free from outward objects, through standing ever in the nature of the Eternal, who is as lightly concerned with the enjoyment of sensual things followed by others as a sleeping child, looking on this world as a land beheld in dream, when consciousness comes back, enjoying the fruit of endless holy deeds, he is rich and worthy of honor in the world.

    This sage, standing firm in wisdom, reaches Being and Bliss, he is changeless, free from all acts, for his Self is dissolved in the Eternal.

    Being that is plunged in the oneness of the Eternal and the Self made pure, that wavers not and is pure consciousness alone, is called wisdom.

    They say he stands firm in wisdom, in whom this wisdom steadfastly dwells. He in whom wisdom is firmly established, who enjoys unbroken bliss, by whom the manifested world is almost unheeded, is called free even in life. [430]

    He who with thought dissolved is yet awake, though free from the bondage of waking life, whose illumination is free from impure mind-images, he, verily, is called free even in life.

    He who perceives that his soul’s pilgrimage is ended, who is free from disunion even while possessing division, whose imagination is free from imaginings, he, verily, is called free even in life.

    He who even while this body exists, regards it as a shadow, who has no sense of personality or possessions,—these are the marks of him who is free in life.

    Whose mind lingers not over the past, nor goes out after the future, when perfect equanimity is gained, this is the mark of him who is free even in life.

    In this world, whose very nature is full of differences, where quality and defect are distinguished, to regard all things everywhere as the same, this is the mark of him who is free even in life.

    Accepting wished and unwished objects with equanimity in the Self, and changing not in either event, is the mark of him who is free even in life.

    When the sage’s imagination is fixed on tasting the essence of the bliss of the Eternal, so that he distinguishes not between what is within and without, this is the mark of him who is free even in life.

    Who is free from thought of “I” and “my,” in body and senses and their works, who stands in equanimity, bears the mark of one who is free even in life.

    He who has discerned the Eternal in the Self, through the power of sacred books, who is free from the bondage of the world, bears the mark of one who is free even in life.

    Who identifies himself with the body and senses, or separates himself in thought from what is other than these, bears the mark of one who is free even in life. [440.]

No. 5—SEPTEMBER—OCTOBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

DHAMMAPADA. p.13-15
Chapter I.
THE TWIN VERSES.

ALL that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage.

    All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.


   
“He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me,’ ‘—in those who harbor such thoughts hatred will never cease.
    “He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me,”—in those who do not harbor such thoughts hatred will cease.

    For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time: hatred ceases by love, this is an old rule.
    The world does not know that we must all come to an end here ;— but those who know it, their quarrels cease at once.

    He who lives looking for pleasures only, his senses uncontrolled, immoderate in his food, idle, and weak, Mâra (the tempter) will certainly overthrow him, as the wind throws down a weak tree.

    He who lives without looking for pleasures, his senses well controlled, moderate in his food, faithful and strong, him Mãra will certainly not over throw, any more than the wind throws down a rocky mountain.

    He who wishes to put on the yellow dress without having cleansed himself from sin, who disregards also temperance and truth, is unworthy of the yellow dress.

    But he who has cleansed himself from sin, is well grounded in all virtues, and regards also temperance and truth, he is indeed worthy of the yellow dress.

    They who imagine truth in untruth, and see untruth in truth, never arrive at truth, but follow vain desires.
    They who know truth in truth, and untruth in untruth, arrive at truth, and follow true desires.

    As rain breaks through an ill-thatched house, passion will break through an reflecting mind.
    As rain does not break through a well-thatched house, passion will not break through a well reflecting mind.
 

    The evil-doer mourns in this world, and he mourns in the next; he mourns in both. He mourns and suffers when he sees the evil of his own work.

    The virtuous man delights in this world, and he delights in the next; He delights in both. He delights and rejoices when he sees the purity of his own work.

    The evil-doer suffers in this world, and he suffers in the next; he suffers in both. He suffers when he thinks of the evil he has done; he suffers more when going on the evil path.

    The virtuous man is happy in this world, and he is happy in the next; he is happy in both. He is happy when he thinks of the good he has done; he is still more happy when going on the good path.

    The thoughtless man, even if he can recite a large portion (of the law), but is not a doer of it, has no share in the priesthood, but is like a cowherd counting the cows of others.

    The follower of the law, even if he can recite only a small portion (of the law), but, having forsaken passion and hatred and foolishness, possesses true knowledge and serenity of mind, he, caring for nothing in this world or that to come, has indeed a share in the priesthood.
 

Chapter II.
ON EARNESTNESS EARNESTNESS p.15

EARNESTNESS is the path of immortality (Nirvana), thoughtlessness the path of death. Those who are in earnest do not die, those who
are thoughtless are as if dead already.

    Those who are advanced in earnestness, having understood this clearly, delight in earnestness, and rejoice in the knowledge of the Ariyas (the elect).

    These wise people, meditative, steady, always possessed of strong powers, attain to Nirvana, the highest happiness.

    If an earnest person has roused himself, if he is not forgetful, if his deeds are pure, if he acts with consideration, if he restrains himself, and lives according to law,—then his glory will increase.

    By rousing himself, by earnestness, by restraint and control, the wise man may make for himself an island which no flood can overwhelm.

    Fools follow after vanity, men of evil wisdom. The wise man keeps earnestness as his best jewel.
    Follow not after vanity, nor after the enjoyment of love and lust He who is earnest and meditative, obtains ample joy.

    When the learned man drives away vanity by earnestness, he, the wise, climbing the terraced heights of wisdom, looks down upon the fools, serene he looks upon the toiling crowd, as one that stands on a mountain looks down upon them that stand upon the plain.

    Earnest among the thoughtless, awake among the sleepers, the wise man advances like a racer, leaving behind the hack.

    By earnestness did Maghavan (Indra) rise to the lordship of the gods. People praise earnestness; thoughtlessness is always blamed.
A Bhikshu (mendicant) who delights in earnestness, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, moves about like fire, burning all his fetters, small or large.

    A Bhikshu (mendicant) who delights in reflection, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, cannot fall away (from his perfect state)—he is close upon Nirvana.—(Sacred Books a/the East, vol. x.)

No. 5—SEPTEMBER—OCTOBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR

THE SONGS OF THE MASTER. p.16

IN the Bhagavad Gita, first translated and best known of all the Sacred Books of the East, there is much of profound value for all readers; and, besides this readily recognized worth, there is much of high historical and literary interest, which is very often passed over; there are, in every chapter, two or three verses which, if fully understood, would open up doors to the antiquities of India, in many departments of philosophy, religion, tradition. These things make up the atmosphere of the book. Seen without this atmosphere, the Bhagavad Gita has still a high and universal value; but seen with its atmosphere, its interest is doubled.

    We hope to take up these passages we have spoken of, one by one; to show how they open doors into the world of long ago; and to make visible what may be seen through these doors. To begin with the title. It has been paraphrased in a dozen different ways, but every time one characteristic fact has been forgotten. In the original, the title is quite certainly in the plural, not the singular, pointing to the tradition that it contains a collection of Krishna’s teachings which, for artistic completeness, have been grouped together in a single work. Here is the complete title, according to the Indian tradition: The Blest Songs of the Master, the Secret Teachings, the Science of the Eternal, the Scripture of Union, the Conversation between Lord Krishna and Arjuna. Now it seems to us, and we shall in due course try to show why, that each of these titles, taken in reverse order, marks a stage in the growth of the book, which began as a record of the Conversation of Krishna the teacher with Arjuna, and ended as a perfect allegory of the mysteries. We shall point to the passages which show the lines of division between the various layers of the completed work and thus, after other passages already referred to, as of special interest, have been commented on, it will be found that a rich atmosphere surrounds the whole series of the Songs, and that, when this atmosphere is understood, the whole work will gain greatly in value and interest.

 

No. 6—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE GREAT DEEP. p. 1
Vayu Purana, vi,I-7.

FOR the Waters were in the beginning, when fire had perished from the face of the world; and all things, fixed and moving, and all
that is between them, had melted together.

    Nor cou1d anything be perceived then, in that lonely ocean. Then the divine Evolver, thousand-eyed, with a thousand resting places;
    The thousand-headed Spirit, in color golden, above all powers of sense; the Evolver, bearing the name of Lord of the waters, slept there on the deep.

    Then, through the strong power of Being within him, awakening, he looked forth over the empty world, after a night that had lasted for a thousand ages.

    And the Evolver, becoming the great Breath, moved there on the waters; hither and thither like a firefly, at night, in the season of the rains.


KING NALA’S RIVALS. p.2
Mahabharata, iii, vi, .53,5.

WHEN a fair time had come, and a lucky day and hour, King Bhima called the lords of the earth to the choosing. Hearing it, the
lords of the world, all afflicted with love, swiftly assembled, longing for Damayanti. The Kings of men entered the arena, bright with golden pillars and majestic archway, as mighty lions go forth to the mountains. There the compellers of the earth were seated on their several seats, wearing well-scented garlands all, and circlets of polished gems. There were seen strong arms like bars of iron, and men, smooth-skinned, like serpents ; lustering locks very beautiful, well-formed noses, eyes and brows. The faces of the Kings shone like the stars of heaven.

    That august assemblage of Kings, full of tigers among men, as the underworld is full of serpents, or the mountain cave of tigers, radiant Damayanti approached, entering the arena. The eyes and hearts of the Kings were stricken by her sovereign beauty. The sight of those great-souled, falling on her limbs, was fixed there, nor moved, of them beholding.

    Then, when the names of the Kings had been announced, the daughter of Bhima beheld five men of equal form and stature; and, gazing at them, as they stood, all alike in feature, the Vidarbhan princess, doubted, not recognizing Nala the King. For whichever of them she looked at, she thought that he was King Nala; and the lady, thinking and wondering in her heart, “How shall I know which of them are gods? How shall I recognize Nala the King?” thinking thus in herself, the princess of Vidarbha, greatly troubled, called back to memory the signs of the gods, as she had heard them. “The signs of the gods, that I heard from the old men, I see not at all, in any of these who are standing here on the ground.”

    She, pondering much, and again deliberating, thought that the time had come to appeal to the gods. Paying them reverence with voice and heart, with hands joined suppliant, and trembling, she spoke: “Hearing the voice of the swans, the King of Nishadha was chosen by me for lord,—by my truth in this, may the gods reveal him to me! In heart and word I have been faithful to him,—by my truth in this, may the immortals reveal him to me! The King of Nishadha was chosen my master by the gods,—by my truth in this, may the gods reveal him to me I This vow was taken by me, winning King Nala,—by my truth in this, may the gods reveal him to me! May the Kings of the spheres, the mighty lords, take their own forms, that I may know Nala the King of men!”

    Hearing Damayanti’s troubled pray, and seeing her firm and perfect faith and love for Nala, her pure heart and soul, and her devoted love for Nala, the gods did as she had said, ssuming their powers and proper forms.

    She beheld all the immortals, sweat-less, steady-eyed, their garlands fresh, nor dust stained, standing, yet touching not the ground. But the King of Nishadha with a shadow, his garland faded, stained with dust and sweat, standing on the ground, revealed by his moving eyelids. And gazing at them, the gods and King Nala, the daughter of Bhima, faithful, chose the Nishadhas’ King; and with dark eyes downcast touched the border of his robe, and set her splendid garland on his shoulders.

    Thus she, fairest of women, chose him for her lord, and immediately a murmur of praise broke forth from the lords men. And the gods and the sages, wondering, broke forth in words of honor, praising Nala the King of men. And the King of men, the son of Virasena, spoke comfortable words to Damayanti the slender-waisted, rejoicing inwardly in his heart: “As thou, lovely one, lovest a man, though gods are present, therefore know that I shall cherish thee, ever delighting in thy words. And as long as life shall keep me in this body, O thou of sweetest smile, so long shall I be thine; this truth I declare to thee.”

    Thus with joined, hands rejoicing Damayanti with his words, they two, full of joy in each other, seeing the gods with Agni as their leader, heartily took refuge in the gods. And when Bhima’s daughter had chosen the King of Nishadha, all the lords, of the spheres, mighty in their brightness, heartily rejoicing, bestowed eight gifts upon Nala: To see him visibly in the sacrifice, and a bright and excellent path; these were the gifts of Indra, of Shachi’s lord, in his gladness. And Agni gave his own presence, wherever the King of Nishadha should desire it, and that consumer of sacrifice made all the spheres luminous for him, with his own brightness. Yama gave him the essence of food, and firm steadfastness in the good law. And the Lord of the waters granted to him the waters, wherever he should desire them. Thus each gave him a twin gift, and garlands rich in excellent fragrance. And after giving him their gifts, the gods departed to the triple heavens.

    And the lords of the earth, when they had thus taken part in the marriage of the King and Damayanti, full of wonder and exaltation, returned as they had come. And when the Kings were gone, great-hearted Bhima, full of joy, fulfilled the marriage-rite for Damayanti and Nala; and the King of Nishadha, dwelling there as long as was his pleasure, went forth to his own city, chiefest among. men, with the good will of Bhima.

    And, gaining thus the pearl of women, that prince famous in song, dwelt with her in happiness, as India with his consort Shachi. The King was beyond measure exultant, radiant like the rayed sun. And the King showed great love to his people, guarding them well with equal sway. And he offered the sacrifice of universal sovereignty, that had been offered of old by Vayati the son of Nahusha. And many other oblations and gifts he offered also, in his wisdom. And many a time among the woods and groves, very beautiful, Nala wandered with Damayanti, like to one of the immortals.

No. 6—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE LEGENDS OF THE BARDS. p.4-6

I HAVE translated the story of King Nala’ s rivals, not for any esoteric or spiritual meaning it may possibly contain, nor in any way for the purposes of moralizing, but simply because it is an admirable piece of poetry, an image of life full of dignity and beauty. Yet we may use this story to point a moral in quite another way. It is an example, and an excellent one, of the element of bardic tradition which fills so large a place in the literature of ancient India. These songs of the bards were recited at the courts of the princes and kings, for their pleasure and delight, just as the poems of Homer were, when they were originally composed; and, in very many cases, the subjects of these recitations were chosen from the family traditions of the prince in whose presence they were chanted or sung; and this is the cause of the element of delicate and courtly flattery almost always present with them. For what could be more flattering to a prince than to say, that he was chosen by the loveliest of women, even when the four great gods were his rivals? What could be more flattering to the princess than to say that these great gods became suitors for her hand, and only relinquished their suit from admiration of her constancy and truth? Again, what could be more delicate than the suggestion that Nala’s misfortunes were brought upon him, not by his own infatuation, but by the direct interference of a malignant demon,—as the story goes on to tell.

    This story of Nala, at its first recitation, must have owed the largest part of its interest to the fact that it touched on traditions still fresh in the memories of its hearers, and was recited before the immediate descendants of the hero and heroine, if not, indeed, as is very possible, in the presence of Nala and Damayanti themselves, in the fair autumn of their life, after all their misfortunes were safely past. It must be extremely ancient, as far as its subject and original composition are concerned, for the gods are those of the most ancient Vedic period, and there is no allusion at all to the later deities who afterwards eclipsed the old Vedic immortals, in the minds of the people. But, as in ancient Ireland, the songs of the bards were subject to continual revision, by the substitution of more easily understood words and phrases, when the old words, becoming obsolete and time-worn, were dropping out of use. At the same time, though, the bards adhered very strictly to the form, structure, and color of the old traditions, so that it may very easily be
that we have the story of Nala’s rivals to-day in the very same form, though not in the same words, that Nala himself first heard, in the evening of his life.

    There are numbers of these old songs of the Rajput Kings, of their courtly dignity and valor; so much so that the praise and honor of the princes contained therein, and the generous estimation of the princely race, did not pass uncensured by the ambition of the Brahmans; with the result that almost every one of these songs has a Brahmanical postscript, to the effect that, though the Rajput hero was a very fine man, a friend of his, a pious Brahman, was a much finer; and that much of the fortune of the kingly hero was, due to the fact that he made costly birthday gifts and New-Year’s gifts and sacrificial gifts to his friend the Brahman,—with
the transparent moral: “go and do likewise.’

    The Mahabharata, as it has come down to us, has over and over again suffered from these didactic interpolations in honor of the Brahmans, and part of the burden of their song invariably is, that it is time to take up the collection. Thus, in the present tale, we find it added, as a proof of Nala’s magnificence, that he offered many sacrifices, and gave many gifts; and the word used for the latter is invariably to be understood as “gifts to Brahmans.” Again, we are informed that Damayanti was bestowed on her loving parents, because they hospitably entreated a certain peregrinating Brahman, and gave him great feasts. Thus the Brahmanical editors and revisers of the bardic songs sought to lead the princes along the good way.

    But, it is needless to add, whatever is of real poetic worth in these songs we owe to the bards and not to the Brahmans or, even more, perhaps to the princes who set the example of knightly courtesy and valor, which is the theme of the bardic recitations. In just the same way, we find that whatever is of highest value in the philosophic systems of India owes its origin to the princely teachers whose wisdom is enshrined in the Upanishads, while the doctrinal and theological part, which has far less human interest, is the handiwork of Brahman elaborators.

    In the Bhagavad-gita, for instance, the earliest chapters, as Krishna himself tells us, embody the mystic traditions of the kingly sages, while sections towards the end, such as the classification of the four castes, the three kinds of gifts, and so on are as clearly the work the Brahman editors. The genius of these editors, it will be seen, was in no sense creative. The Brahmans did not create any of India's greatness whether in poetry or philosophy. Their tendency was essentially for order, beginning with the hierarchic structure of their own caste, and the arrangement of class-relation but also effecting an orderly grouping and preservation of the old Indian works. Their formal and dogmatic instinct, which we may see to have done great harm to India in many ways, yet brought with them this compensation, that it made them good librarians and tenacious preservers of texts.

No. 6—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

HEART, WILL, LIFE. p.6-9
Chhandogya Upanishad: iii, 12-16.

THE divine Song, verily, is all their being, whatsoever there is; and the Word is the divine Song. The Word, verily, enounces and guards all being.

    And the divine Song, verily, is this world, for in it all this being firmly rests, and goes not out beyond it.
    And what this world is, is this body here, in man; for in it all the life-breaths firmly rest, and go not out beyond it.
    And what is this body here, in man, that is the heart, in the inner man; for in it all the life-breaths firmly rest, and go not out beyond it.

    This is the divine Song, with its four degrees and its six parts, and it has been declared thus by the Vedic hymn:

    So far is the greatness of it, and mightier than this is the spirit;
    One degree of it is all beings, three degrees of it are immortal in the heavens.

    And what is called the Eternal, is the outward shining-ether, outside man; and what the outward shining-ether outside man is, that the shining-ether here in the inner man Is.
    And what the shining-ether here in the inner man is, that verily is the shining-ether in the inner heart.

    Thus this is perfect and passes not away; he who knows this gains perfect happiness, that passes not away.

    Of it, verily, of the heart, there are five channels for the bright powers :

    There is the eastern channel; it is the forward-breath; it is the power of seeing; it is the sun. Therefore this should be reverently approached as radiance, as the world-food. Radiant, an eater of the world-food, he becomes, who knows thus.

    And so there is the southern channel; it is the distributing-breath; it is hearing; it is the moon. Therefore it should be reverently approached as happiness and fame. Happy and famous he becomes, who knows thus.

    And so there is the western channel; it is the downward-breath it is voice; it is fire. Therefore it should be reverently approached as divine lustre and the world-food. Full of divine lustre, and an eater of the world-food he becomes, who knows thus.

    And so there is the northern channel; it is the uniting-breath; it is mind; it is the storm god. Therefore it should be reverently approached as glory and praise. Full of glory and praise he becomes, who knows thus.

    And so there is the upward channel; it is the upward-breath; it is the great breath; it is the shining-ether. Therefore it should be reverently approached as brightness and as the mighty one. Full of brightness and mighty he becomes, who knows thus.

    These are the five spirits of the Eternal ; the keepers of the gates of the heaven-world. He who knows, verily, these five spirits of the Eternal, the keepers of the gates of the heaven-world, in his family is born a hero; he reaches the heaven-world, who knows these five spirits of the Eternal, the keepers of the gates of heaven.

    And the Light that shines there, beyond the heavens, at the back of the world, at the back of all, in the best and most excellent worlds, is the same as the light that shines in the inner man.

    And the sight of it is this: where he knows by feeling the fiery power here, within the body. And the hearing of it is this: where, stopping both ears, he yet hears it like a murmuring, like the crackling of a burning fire. Therefore it should be reverently approached as seen and as heard. A seer and hearer he becomes, who knows thus,—’who knows thus.

    All this, verily, is the Eternal. It should be reverently approached, in silence, as breathing and living in him.
    Verily man is formed of Will; according as a man’s will is, in this world, according to that is his being, on going forth hence. Let him perform his will.

    Of the form of mind, with a body of vital-breath, of the nature of light, intending toward the real, of the being of the shining-ether, doing all things, desiring all things, smelling all things, tasting all things, embracing all that is, silent, untroubled :—this is my Self in the inmost heart; smaller than a grain of rice, or a grain of barley, or a grain of mustard-seed, or a grain of millet, or the kernel of a grain of millet; this is my Self in the inmost heart; older than the earth, older than the mid-world, greater than heaven, greater than all these worlds. Doing all things, desiring all things, smelling all things, tasting all things, embracing all that is, silent, untroubled. This is my Self in the inmost heart, this is the Eternal. Going forth hence, I shall enter into its being. He who has possessed this, doubts no more.
    Thus, of old, spoke Shandilya, Shandilya.

    There is an egg-like sphere encompassing the etherial world; that root of the world grows not old. The spaces are its channels, heaven is its upper concave. This sphere is the treasury of the world, wherein all this world is stored.

    The eastern space of it is called the sacrificial vessel; the southern space is called the enduring; the western space is called the queen; of these the great Breath is the child. He who knows that Breath as the -child of the spaces, mourns not with the mourning for children. I, verily, know that breath as the child of the spaces, and mourn not with the mourning for children.

    I enter the most excellent sphere, by that, by that, by that. I enter life, by that, by that, by that. I enter the terrestrial world, by that, by that, by that. I enter the etherial world by that, by that, by that. I enter the celestial world by that, by that, by that.

    So as I said: “I enter life,” thus life, verily, is all being, whatsoever there is. As life, I have gained being.
    And as I said: “I enter the terrestrial world,’’ thus I enter the earth, I enter the air, I enter the sky; thus I said.
    And as I said: “I enter the etherial world,’’ thus I enter fire, I enter the breath, I enter the sun; thus I said.
    And as I said: “I enter the celestial world,” thus I enter the Rig Veda, I enter the Yajur Veda, I enter the Sama Veda. Thus I said; thus I said.

    Man, verily, is a sacrifice. His first four and twenty years are the early morning oblation. The metre of the divine Song has four and twenty syllables; therefore this early morning oblation belongs to the divine Song.

    The powers of earth are correlated to it; the vital breaths are the powers of earth, because they penetrate all this world.
Therefore if, in this period, he should be afflicted, let him say: may the vital breaths, the powers of earth, prolong this my early morning oblation until the midday oblation. May I not be cut off as a sacrifice in the midst of the powers of earth, the vital breaths. It passes, and he becomes whole.

    And the next forty-four years are the midday oblation. The metre of the hymns has forty-four syllables, therefore this midday oblation belongs to the metre of the hymns. The powers of the breaths are correlated with it, the vital breaths are the powers of the breaths, because they move all this world.

    Therefore if in this period he should be afflicted, let him say: may the vital breaths, the powers of the breaths, prolong this my midday oblation until the third oblation. May I not be cut off as a sacrifice in the midst of the breaths, the powers of the breaths. It passes, and he becomes whole.

    And the next forty-eight years are the third oblation. The second metre of the hymns has forty-eight syllables, therefore this third oblation belongs to it. The powers of light are correlated with it, the vital breaths are the powers of light, because they encompass all this world.

    Therefore if in this period, he should be afflicted, let him say: may the vital breaths, the powers of light, prolong this my third oblation until the full end of my time; may I not be cut off in the midst of the vital breaths as a sacrifice. It passes, and he becomes whole.

    Knowing this of old, Mahidasa, grandson of Itara, and saying: “Why dost thou afflict me, since I will not therefore go forth from the body,” lived, verily, sixteen hundred years. He lives, verily, sixteen hundred years, who thus knows.

No. 6—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE TEACHINGS OF THE SEERS. pgs. 9-12
In Chhandogya Upanishad: iii, 12-16.

By a curious coincidence, in which there was no element of intention whatever, the opening verses of the section of the Upanishads, here translated, carry with them a marked suggestion of the beginning of the Fourth Gospel; while the verses from the Vayu Purana translated first, are equally reminiscent of the opening lines of Genesis.

    Here we read “in the beginning, all things fixed and moving had melted together, and the spirit slept on the great deep,’’ just as in the other teaching, where “the earth was without form, and void; and the spirit brooded over the waters.” Here also, the brooding spirit is pictured with a wonderfully vivid and poetic touch, “the great Breath moved on the waters, to and fro, like a firefly at night, in the season of the rains.”


   
In the same way, we are reminded of those eminently gnostic verses: ‘ In the beginning was the Word,” and what follows by the sentence ‘ The divine Song, verily, is all this being and the Word is the divine Song.”

    It will hardly be necessary to say that we are dealing, here, with a vivid and striking picture of the doctrine of the emanation of worlds from the unmanifest Eternal. The divine Song is the famous verse, of four short lines, which we translated some time ago:

                                        OM! earth! mid-world! heaven!
                                        That Sun’s most excellent
                                        Brightness divine, let us meditate on,
                                        Which enlightens our souls.

    And the four-lined verse is chosen because it very fitly represents the four steps, or grades of being, which are generally enumerated thus: waking, dreaming, dreamlessness, and the fourth, which is ineffable.

    Therefore the “divine Song” represents the fourfold world, as is suggested by its own words: earth, mid world, heaven, the divine Sun. And it further suggests that the manifesting of the worlds depends on rhythmical harmony of vibration, like the singing of a chant.

    Then comes the teaching, so often repeated, that the little world of man, the microcosm, is built in perfect harmony with the great world of Nature, the macrocosm. So we are told that what the world is,—a four fold being,—that also the body of a man is. We may understand this fourfold nature of man and his body in more ways than one; first, corresponding to earth, mid-world, and heaven, there are the forces of passion emotion, and soul; with the spirit which includes them all, the Self, corresponding to the fourth world, the ineffable. Then again, there are the physical self, the psychic self, the spiritual self and the divine Self, likewise corresponding with the fourfold world. Of this fourfold self it is said:

    One degree of it is all manifested being; three degrees are immortal in the heavens.

    The three hidden degrees are the divine, the spiritual, and the psychic selves, though only the two former, or in the most rigid sense, the first, can strictly be said to be immortal.

    Again, we are taught that the world outside man, the world of the inner man, and the world of the inmost man, who is called, very strikingly the inmost heart, are not in reality different, but are all only modes of the Eternal, and therefore, in the last analysis, are all but the One. It will be seen That this teaching of the fourfold world of Nature, and the fourfold world of man that corresponds to it, really embrace the whole universe, though, of course, only in briefest outline. And it is characteristic of what we are now translating,  that almost every section is complete in itself, and is not closely connected with what goes before, or what follows; so that we evidently have here a series of brief and weighty teachings handed down in the schools of different masters, two of whom are mentioned by name, in the closing verses of two sections, particularly connected with them by tradition,—namely, Shandilya and Mahidasa.

    The second section, translated above, develops more fully the teaching as to the inner man, who is still called the heart; as to his powers, and the vital energies within and without him which are correlated to these powers.

    It will be easily understood that the sun and the sight referred to are primarily the spirit and the spiritual intuition; though, as all things are bound together in the universe, the natural sun and physical sight, correspond to the same powers on their own plane. The powers called “hearing” and “the moon” are, in the same way, the mind of the psychical self, and the psychical world, in their primary meaning.; and, as before, they have also their natural correspondences. In like fashion, “fire” and “voice” are the habitual symbols of the fire of physical life, and the creative, or formative power which is the most extreme manifestation of physical life; the creative energy which, being, primarily, the reflection of the creative word of divinity, becomes, when abused, the darkest shadow of humanity.

    Following the same symbolism, the “storm-god” and the “great Breath” again represent the psychic and spirit worlds, this time taken from below upwards, on the returning tide of involution, after the outward evolution or emanation has been completed.
At the same time, we have bound up together with this the correspondences of the vital breaths, the actual powers of the physical life of the body, and, with them, the physical powers of sense.

    Then follows the striking image: these five powers, in whatever world they are manifested, are the five spirits of the Eternal, the five keepers of the gates of heaven. In no other books do we get this striking note of the highest spirituality, even in the midst of detailed lists of psychical or physical powers; in no other books are we perpetually reminded of the immediate presence of the eternal spirit in all things, in every manifestation, on whatever plane. For the light that shines there, beyond the heavens, at the back of the world, at the back of all things, is the same as the light that shines in the heart of man.

    The “fiery power, within the body,” and “the sounds that are heard even where the ears are closed,” have to do with certain states and forces in the psychic life and its development, which must be experienced to be understood.


   
A new fragment of teaching is reached by the words: All this, verily, is the Eternal; it should be reverently approached in silence as breathing and living in the Eternal. This fragment, which tradition ascribes to the teacher Shandilya, anticipates in a remarkable way the thought that is the heart and soul of Schopenhauer’s philosophy; the thought that the most real, indeed the only real, power in us, is the Will. Then the word-picture of the inner self, of the form of mind, of the nature of light, of the being of the shining ether, doing all things, desiring all things, knowing all things.

    In the section of teaching that follows, we come to the world likened to an egg, as the symbol of life developing from within outwards. It seems that the three spaces, eastern, southern, and western, may best be represented by the three sides of a triangle, from which streams forth the radiance of the great Breath. Then again the doctrine of the thrice threefold world, suggested by the threefold repetitions: By that, by that, by that.

    The last fragment translated suggests the idea of prolonging life by, a knowledge of the powers of the vital breaths.

No. 6—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE THREE KINDS OF WORKS. pgs. 12-14
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom, 441-470.

HE who through wisdom discerns that there is no division between the Eternal and the manifested world, bears the mark of one who is free even in life.

    Whose mind is even, when honored by the good, or persecuted by the wicked, bears the mark of one who is free even in life.

    In whom, all sensuous objects, put forth by the supreme, melt together like the rivers and streams that enter the ocean’s treasure house, making no change at all, since he and they are but the one Being, this sage self-conquered if set free.

    For him who has understood the nature of the Eternal, there is no return to birth and death as of old; if such return there be, then the nature of the Eternal was not known.

    If they say he returns to birth and death through the rush of old imaginings, this is not true; for, from the knowledge of oneness, imaginings lose all their power.

    As the most lustful man ceases from desire before his mother; so, when the Eternal is known, the wise cease from desire, through fullness of bliss.

    The scripture says that, even for him who profoundly meditates there is a going after outward things of sense, on account of Works already entered on.

    As long as there is the taste of pain and pleasure, so long are there Works already entered on; the fruits come from the acts that went before; without these acts where would the fruits be?

    From the knowledge that I am the Eternal, the accumulated Works, heaped up even through hundreds of myriads of ages, melt away like the work of dream, on awaking.

    Whatever one does while dreaming, however good or bad it seems, what effect has it on him, on awaking to send him either to hell or heaven? [450]

   
On knowing the Self, unattached, enthroned like the dome of heaven, the man is no longer stained at all by Works to come.

    As the ether enclosed in the jar is not stained by the smell of the wine, so the Self encompassed by its vestures, is not stained by any quality of theirs.

    Works that have been entered on, before wisdom’s sunrise, are not destroyed by wisdom, until they have reached their fruition; like an arrow aimed and sent forth at the mark.

    The arrow discharged by the thought that there was a tiger, does not stop when it is seen to be a cow, but pierces the mark through its exceeding swiftness.

    Verily, Works entered on are the most formidable to the wise, they disappear only through being experienced. But Works accumulated and Works to come both melt away in the fire of perfect wisdom.

    When they have beheld the oneness of the Self and the Eternal, and stand ever firm in the power of that knowledge, for them those three kinds of Works exist no longer; for them there is only the Eternal, free from every change.

    When the saint rests in the Self, through understanding that the Self is other than its vestures, that the Self is the pure Eternal ; then the myth of the reality of Works entered on no longer holds him, just as the myth of union with things of dream no longer holds him who has awakened.

    For he who is awake no longer keeps the sense of “I and mine and that,” for his looking-glass body and the world that belongs to it; but comes to himself merely through waking.

    Neither a desire for pursuing mythical objects, nor any grasping after even a world full of them, is seen in him who has awakened. But if the pursuit of mirages goes on, then it is seen for certain that the man has not wakened from sleep.

    Thus dwelling in the supreme Eternal, through the real Self, he stands and beholds naught else. Like the memory of an object looked on in dream, so is it, for the wise, with eating or the other acts of life.

    The body is built up through Works; the Works entered upon make for the building up of various forms; but the Self is not built up through works. [460]

    “Unborn, eternal, immemorial,” says the Scripture, whose words are not in vain; of him who rests in that Self, what building up of Works entered on can there be?

    Works entered upon flourish then, when the Self is identified with the body; but the identifying of Self with body brings no joy, therefore let Works entered upon be renounced.

    Even the building up of a body through Works entered on is a mirage; whence can come the reality of a mere reflected image? whence can come the birth of an unreality?

    Whence can come the death of what has not even been born? Whence can come the entering on of what does not even exist ?—if there be a melting away of the effects of unwisdom, root and all, through the power of wisdom.

    How does this body stand? In the case of him who takes inert things to be real, Works entered on are supported by the sight of outward things thus says the scripture yet it does not teach the reality of the body and the like, to the wise.

    One, verily, is the Eternal, without a second. There is no difference at all. Altogether perfect, without beginning or end, measureless and without change.

    The home of Being, the home of Consciousness, the home of Bliss enduring, changeless; one, verily, without a second, is the Eternal. There is no difference at all.

    Full of the pure essence of the unmanifested, endless, at the crown of all; one, verily, without a second, is the Eternal; there is no difference at all.

    That can neither be put away, nor sought after; that can neither be taken nor approached,—O verily, without a second, is the Eternal; there is no difference at all.

    Without qualities, without parts, subtle, without wavering, without stain; one, verily, without a second, is the Eternal; there is no difference at all. [470]

 No. 6—NOVEMBER—DECEMBER, 1896.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE SONGS OF THE MASTER. pgs. 15-16
II.

ONE of the most natural questions, which it occurs to every one to ask, on making the acquaintance of the Bhagavad Gita, is, where it comes from. The answer which one generally finds, in the introductions to our translations, is, that it is “an episode of the Mahabharata,” and sometimes we are further told that it is found in the Bhishma Parva. Now let us see what that answer means. Everybody knows that the Mahabharata is a huge epic poem, extending to something over two hundred thousand lines, and most people know that hardly more than a tenth of this vast bulk is concerned with the actual story of the Pandus and Kurus. The rest is made up of traditions, legends, sermons, and all kinds of picturesque details, dragged in without any particular reference to the actual course of the narrative, just as there are all kinds of diversions and episodes in the Arabian Nights. The story of Nala and Damayanti, for instance, is told to furnish a moral on the evils of gambling, and we have a brief narration of the wanderings of Rama and Sita, introduced on an equally slight pretext.

    The whole great cycle of legends is divided into eighteen Parvas, or books; and the sixth of these, as being chiefly concerned with the death of Bhishma, is called the Bhishma Parva. This Bhishma was the uncle of the two brothers Dhritarashtra and Pandu ; the former of whom was the father of the Kurus, the latter, the father of the Pandus. So that one may say that Bhishma was grand uncle to both sets of rival princes. There is an element of doubt about all these relationships, because princes were in the habit of coming somewhat irregularly into the world, and, when their ostensible parents were not to be revealed, they were discovered to be the children of various gods and goddesses. Princesses who happened to have sons born before their marriages, invariably accredited their parentage to the gods, or, sometimes, to celebrated saints. Finally, the mother of the Pandus was Krishna’s aunt; and thus the great teacher became involved in the fortunes of the war.

    The story of the intrigues that led up to the war is too long to tell suffice it to say that Bhishma was to lead the Kurus, against Arjuna and the four other Pandus and their allies, including Krishna. The narrative of the battle, or rather, the series of battles that made up the great war, is told in rather an artificial way, though it was originally based on bardic traditions, of which we have already said something. Dhritarasthra, the father of the Kurus, was blind, and so took no part in the war, but stayed at home in his palace. His servant Sanjaya had received the gift of unlimited vision, and was thus able to watch the development of the battle and to record the conversations of the combatants, down to the most minute details, without leaving the side of the blind master.

    In this way, he relates at very great length the first few days’ fighting, and the death of Bhishma. When Dhritarashtra hears that Bhishma has fallen, he exclaims, with tragic sorrow: “My heart must be of stone, for it breaks not on hearing of the death of Bhishma! “ It is here that is recorded a wonderful astronomical occurrence which is relied on as fixing the date of the war: “The seven large planets, as they appeared in the firmament, all looked blazing like fire.” This conjunction of the five planets, the sun and moon, took place, it is calculated, just five thousand years ago. It is worth noting that, before his death, or rather, before receiving his mortal wound, he exclaims: “To die of sickness at home is a sin for a Kobaltriya. The death he meets in battle is his duty forever.” A sentiment like this is the motive of Krishna’s sermon to Arjuna, which we know under the title of the Bhagavad Gita. It is led up to in this way: After hearing of Bhishma’s death, Dhritarashtra asks his long- sighted servant Sanjaya which of the warriors first advanced to the battle? whose hearts were full of confidence? whose were overtaken by fear? Sanjaya replies, that both armies advanced full of courage, and begins to describe the movements of the charioteers, their banners and armor. Then Dhritarashtra asks the question which now forms the first two lines of the Bhagavad Gita, and Sanjaya replies.

    Thus it will be seen that the beginning of the Bhagavad Gita, at any rate, flows quite naturally from the preceding events, and the first chapter, with its martial pictures, is exactly in the spirit of much that has gone before. In the same way, after the eighteen chapters which make up the Bhagavad Gita are ended, the story goes on unbroken, and we are told that, when Arjuna, reassured by Krishna, once more took up his bow, the Pandus and their allies broke out in cries of exaltation, and blew a note of defiance on their sea-born conches. “And drums were beaten, and horns were blown, and the uproar was great.”

    Thus the story of Krishna’s discourse to Arjuna was evidently, in the beginning, an organic part of the whole legend; what portions of the whole ,teaching have evidently been added, we shall have to consider, later on.


No. 7  JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

“VITA BREVIS.” p. 1
Hitopadesha, iv, 68-83.

WHITHER are gone the great lords of the earth, with their might of chariots and armies? The earth, that witnessed their departure, stands even to-day.

    Moment by moment, this body wastes away unperceived; like a jar of unbaked clay set in water, it falls to pieces, and is dissolved.
Unlasting are youth and beauty, life and piled-up wealth, kingly state and the presence of friends; the wise man errs not as to these.

    As log of driftwood meets log in the mighty ocean, and after meeting they separate again; thus are the meetings of all beings.


NALA AND THE GODS. pgs. 2-3
Mahabharata, xii, vi, 5, 6-7.

AND when the king of the Nishadhas had been chosen by the daughter of Bhima, the lords of the worlds in their brightness departing beheld Dwapara approaching, with Kali. Thereupon Indra, slayer of Bala and Vritra addressed Kali:
    Tell me, Kali, whither art thou going with Dwapara accompanying thee?

    And Kali answered Indra:
    To the self-choosing of Damayanti, and there shall I choose her, for my heart has gone out to her.

    Then Indra said to him, laughing:
    The self-choosing is ended ! Chosen by her was Nala the King, as her lord,—even in the presence of us.

    And thus addressed by Indra, Kali, full of anger, calling all the gods to witness, spoke then this word:
    That she took a son of man for her husband, even from amid gods,—for this let there be for her justly a heavy enduring of punishment.

    When this was thus spoken by Kali, the heaven-dwellers made answer:
    Even with our consent, by Damayanti was Nala chosen; and what woman would not follow King Nala, in whom all virtues dwell, who knows every law, and walks faithfully in all things, who has read the Vedas four, and all the histories as well; in whose house the gods are ever delighted with offerings, according to the law; who hurts no living thing wantonly; who speaks truth, ever constant to his word; in whom are righteousness and firmness, gentle charity and fervid will, purity, self-restraint, control, set ever firm in this tiger of men ; in this human ruler, equal to a lord of the worlds.

    Whoever, Kali, would desire to curse Nala, being such as this, he, deluded, would curse himself and of himself destroy himself. Whoever, Kali, would desire to curse Nala, having virtues like these, he would sink in a horrid hell, a wide, impassable abyss.

    Speaking thus to Kali and Dwapara, the gods went heavenwards. And when the gods were gone, Kali spoke to Dwapara thus:

    I cannot contain my wrath, Dwapara! I shall dwell near Nala, until I cast him forth from his kingdom. He shall not enjoy the daughter of Bhima! Do thou also enter into the dice, deigning to lend me thy aid!

    Kali, thus making alliance with Dwapara, came thereupon thither, where the King of the Nishadhas dwelt. And ever desiring to gain power over him, he dwelt long time among the Nishadhas. And in the twelfth year of his dwelling, Kali saw an opportunity against Nala. For the King, having incurred a stain, purified not himself until the evening. And he thereby gained power over Nala; and going to Pushkara, he spoke thus to Pushkara:
    —Come, play against Nala, O worthy one, and thou shalt conquer Nala, at play with the dice, by my aid. Gain thou the Nishadhas for thy kingdom, conquering Nala the King!

    And thus addressed by Kali, Pushkara came to where Nala was; and Kali also, becoming the highest throw, as a bull among cows, came to the side of Pushkara. And Pushkara, slayer of the heroes of the foe, seating himself beside Nala the hero: Let us two play ! —thus spoke his brother—for the highest throw !—thus said he, once and again.

    And the King, high-souled, did not endure him challenging; when Damayanti the princess of the Vidarbhas was looking on, he thought the time was fair for play. Then Nala, overruled by Kali, lost there at play well colored gold, a yoke of chariot horses, and vestures. And him, maddened with the madness of dice, not one of his lovers was able to stop, when that subduer of the foe was playing. Then the dwellers in the city all, with spokesmen, came to look on their King, seeking to stop him in his folly; and his charioteer, drawing near secretly, announced it to Damayanti, saying:

    —Here are the folk of this city, lady, standing at the door, full of concern. Let it be announced to the King of the Nishadhas: All thy subjects are standing there, no longer able to bear the downfall of their King, eager to see justice for him.

    Thereon she, with voice full of tears, and oppressed with grief, spoke to the King of the Nishadhas, the daughter of Bhima, her heart stricken sore with sorrow.

    —King, the people, the men of the city, stand at the door, seeking to see thee; they are here with spokesmen all, full of loyalty for their King. Do thou deign to see them.

    Thus, verily, she spoke, once and again. But her, of the beautiful eyelids, lamenting in this wise, the King overruled by Kali answered not at all. Thereon those spokesmen, and the dwellers in the city, grief stricken, and shame-faced, went to their houses, saying: It is not he! Then that play lasted thus for many months, and Nala always lost.


No. 7  JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

AN OLD LEGEND. pgs. 4-5
Chhandogya Upanishad, iv, 1-2.

JANASHRUTI, the grandson of Janashruta, was full of faith, a giver of many gifts, bestowing much cooked food. He caused many houses of refuge to be built, saying: Everywhere shall they eat food of mine.

    And swans flew by at night, and swan spoke thus to swan:
—Dim-eyed one, dim eyed one, the fire of Janashruti is as bright as day; go not near it ! be not burned by it !

    And the other spoke again to him:
    —Who is this, in truth, of whom thou speakest, as though he were Raikva of the chariot? As to him who has won with the highest throw of the dice, the lesser throws go as well, so to Raikva goes all that people do well, and it is thus also with whoever knows what Raikva knows.

    And Janashtuti, the grandson of Janashruta overheard this; and, on rising, said verily, to his charioteer:
    O warrior thou speakest of Raikva of the chariot

    —Who is this Raikva of the chariot?
    —As to him who has won with the highest throw of the dice, the lesser throws go as well, so to Raikva go all that people do well; and it is thus also with whoever knows what Raikva knows.

    And the charioteer, after seeking, returned, saying: I have not found him. And he said to him:

    —Where one, who knows the Eternal, is to be sought, go thou thither to seek him.
    And he came upon him, sitting beneath his chariot, and he addressed him, saying:

    —O worthy one, art thou Raikva of the chariot?
    And he replied, saying:
        I, verily, am he.
    And the charioteer, returned, saying I have found him.

And Janashruti, the grandson of Janashruta, taking six hundred cows, an ornament of gold, and a chariot drawn by mules, came to where he was, and addressed him:

    —Raikva! here are six hundred cows, an ornament of gold, and a chariot drawn by mules! O worthy one, instruct me in the divinity whom thou approachest!

    But the other spoke again to him:

    —For a golden necklet am I to teach thee, slave! let it remain thine, and the cows as well!

    Once again Janashruti, the grandson of Janashruta, taking a thousand cows, an ornament of gold, a chariot drawn by mules, and his daughter, came to where he was, and addressed him:

    —Raikva, here are a thousand cows, here is an ornament of gold, here is a chariot drawn by mules, here is a wife for thee, and the place in which thou art sitting is also thine. O, worthy one, initiate me into the teaching!

    And Raikva, raising the face of the maiden up to his own, spoke:
    —I accept these gifts, slave! by this face thou makest me speak.

    And the place is called Raikvaparna, in the Mahavrsha country, where he dwelt.

    The Great Breath, verily, is the storehouse. For when the fire burns out, it enters into the Breath; when the sun goes to his setting, he enters into the Breath ; when the moon goes to setting, it enters into the Breath; when the waters dry up, they enter into the Breath ; for the Breath verily enwraps them all. Thus far as to the world-powers.

    Then as to the powers within one’s self. The Life, verily, is the store-house. For when he sinks to sleep, voice, verily, enters into the Life, seeing enters into the Life, hearing enters into the Life, emotion enters into the Life ; for the Life, verily, enwraps them all. Thus there as these two store-houses: the Breath, among the world-powers; the Life, among the lives.


No. 7  JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

RAIKVA OF THE CHARIOT. pgs. 6-7
In Chhandogya Upanishad, IV, 1-2.

EMBEDDED in the records of the ancient Mysteries, as the fossil in the marble, we find many an old legend and story, which has come down to us without comment or note, without author’s or narrator’s name, without mark of time or place of birth. At one time these legends may have been, and almost certainly must have been, definite and complete records connected with great historic events, or personages, whose destinies were linked with the story of the Mysteries, and their development. Then, later, as the lives of great men, and the history of stirring and epoch-making events for the most part bear a secondary, symbolic meaning, these narratives, shorn of a large part of the circumstance and detail that clothed them at first may have been preserved as parables, as vivid figures and images of this or that aspect of life, and the events narrated may have been moulded and altered, to conform them to an ideal, universal type.

    Lastly, these stories were in many cases preserved, simply because they had already been preserved so long already; their sheer antiquity was deemed a warrant of their special value, and they came down the ages, in a gathering mist of obscurity, often seeking in vain an interpreter who should unravel their long hidden meaning.

    One of these strange and antique stories is that of Raikva and Janashruti the grandson. It bears no author’s name, and the sole local indication rather darkens than lightens counsel, as the place called Raikvaparna unto this day is no longer known on the face of the visible earth, and the whole allusion to it gives the story the appearance of having been invented, like many another, to account for a name whose origin had been forgotten.

    However, there the story is, at the head of a chapter, in what is avowedly and uncontestably a manual for students seeking initiation into the Mysteries; there it is, and we must draw from it such pleasure and profit as we can, before passing on to what follows. To begin with, what—ever may have been the wondrous wisdom of Raikva, in virtue of which all the good that men did, accrued to him, as to him who has cast the highest throw at dice all lesser throws accrue, whatever may have been that secret doctrine, in proud possession of which he disdainfully refused the gift of six hundred cows, the golden necklet, and even the chariot drawn by mules, the hidden lore which only the fair face of Janashruti’s daughter persuaded him to reveal, we are destined to remain in ignorance of it. For the sentences which immediately follow the consent of Raikva to unveil his teaching, do not contain that teaching or explain to us what it was; and indeed these sentences, which we have translated, have quite evidently nothing to do with Raikva at all, or with his wisdom, or with Janashruti’s daughter, or the chariot drawn by mules. They might just as well appear in another chapter, or in any other part of the Upanishads whatsoever. Now there are many of these fragmentary teachings thus sifted through the more connected matter of the Upanishads, and whoever feels an irresistible curiosity and longing to know, is at liberty to search and seek among them, if haply he may find some such teaching as may seem to belong more rightfully to Raikva, after taking into due consideration all circumstances of time and place, the character of teacher and pupil, the bribe offered for the lesson, what the charioteer said, and finally, the evidence of the swans.

    If we turn to the symbolic aspects of the story, and those views of it which make for edification, we may find a mystical meaning in the rejected offering of cattle, like that of the father of Nachiketas, and the deficiency supplied in that case by the offering of a son; in this, by the offering of a daughter. We may find a further hidden sense in the number of the herds; in the fact that the teacher was seemingly a man of no account and little honor; even, if some manuscripts are to be followed, very abject and forlorn in outward seeming. Yet after all, the truth will probably be that the story was preserved because it was very old.

 

No. 7  JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE TALE OF A TIGER. pgs.7-8-9
The Book of Good Counsel. Hitopadesha, i.

TOLD BY THE PIGEON KING.

ONCE on a time, as I passed through the Southern Forest, I beheld An old Tiger who had taken a bath, covering his paw with grass, on the lake shore speaks:

    “Hail! Wayfarers, hail! Let this golden bracelet be accepted! Thereupon one Wayfarer, led on by greed, spoke thus:

    “This also befalls through heaven’s grace; yet,—in times of doubt as to one’s aim, it is not right to hurry. For it is written:
                            Even the wished from the unwished receiving,
                            The end and outcome is not ever fair;
                            When there is poison craftily admixed,
                            Even the heavenly nectar makes for Death.

    Yet in every gaining of wealth, there is cause for doubt. As it is written :
                            Till he o’ercomes his doubts, no man attains to wealth.
                            O’ercoming doubt, he may attain;—if he survives.
                                                                                                       [Mahabharata Adi, cxl, 73.]
                           
“Thus far, I consider the matter.” He says aloud:
                            “Where is the bracelet?”
                            The Tiger, pushing his paw forward, shows it.
    The Wayfarer said:
                            “How can I have confidence in thee?”
    The Tiger spoke:
    “Now I, even I, practice ablutions and am a giver; I am old, and have lost my nails and teeth; how am I not a sure ground for confidence? As it is written :
                            Sacrifice, study, penances gifts,
                            Truth, firmness, patience, lack of lust:
                            This is the Way long handed down,—
                            The Noble Eightfold Path of Right.
                            The first four Virtues of the Path,
                            The Hypocrite may practice too
                            The last four Virtues ever dwell
                            In the Magnanimous alone.
                                                                                        [Mahabharata Udyoga, xxxv, 56-7.]

   
“And mine is such a freedom from greed, that I am willing to give a golden bracelet, that is even now in my paw, to anyone at all! All the same, that popular saying, to wit: ‘Tiger eats Man,’ is hard to overcome. As it is written:
                            The World, that ever follows where it’s led,
                            May take as its instructor in right life
                            A dame of weakest reputation,—Or
                            Even a Twice-born who has killed a cow!

    “For I too have read the holy Books of Law. Listen!
                            As thou dost love the Life of thine own Self,
                            All other Beings love their own Lives too;
                            By Self-similitude, the perfect Wise
                            Show to all Being pity equally.

    “And again:
                            Ever in all refusing or all giving
                            In pleasures pain; in what he loves or hates

                                By Self-similitude, a man should act
                                And follow thus the perfect Rule of Right.
                                                                                         [Mahabharata, 13, 5572.]
   
“And yet another:
                            Oh son of Kunti! succour well the Poor!
                            Give not thy Wealth to one already Rich!
                            They that are Sick, alone need healing herbs;
                            What use are healing herbs to him in Health?

    “And another:
                            What Gift is given, thinking ‘one should give,’
                            To one who cannot render it again,
                            At the right place and time, to the right man,
                            Such is a gift of Goodness; this they know.
                                                                                             [Bhagavad Gita, xvii, 20.]

   
“Therefore after bathing here in the lake, accept this golden bracelet.’’

    Thereupon, as he enters into the lake to bathe, so sinking down in the deep mud, he is unable to escape.
    “I will come and lift thee up
    —Thus declaring, and by little and by little approaching, held by that Tiger in his paw, he meditated:
                            Tis not enough to say: he reads the holy Law
                            And studies well the Vedas, if his Heart is bad;
                            His evil nature ever will come out at last,
                            As surely as, by nature, milk of cows is sweet.
    ‘‘ For:

                            Whose senses and whose heart are uncontrolled,
                            Is like the bathing of an elephant;
                            And like adornments to an ugly face,
                            A useless load is Wisdom without works.

    “This was not well done by me, that I placed confidence in one whose very Self is Murder. As it is written:
                            Of every one, the inborn Nature shews,
                            On trial, and not other Qualities.
                            Ever outstripping other Qualities,
                            The inborn Nature triumphs at their head.”

    Thus meditating, verily, he, by that Tiger was slain and consumed.

 

No. 7  JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.


MASTER AND PUPIL. pgs. 10-13
Shankara’s Vivekachudamani: The Crest Jewel of Wisdom, 471-520.

THE TEACHER SPEAKS:

THAT, whose nature no man can define; where is no pasturage for mind or word; one, verily, without second, is the Eternal; there is no difference at all.

    The fulness of Being, self-perfect, pure, awakened, unlike aught here one, verily, without second, is the Eternal; there is no difference at all! They who have cast away passion, who have cast away sensual delights, peaceful, well-ruled, the sages, the mighty, knowing reality in the supreme consummation, have gained the highest joy in union with the Self.

    Thou worthy one also, seeking this higher reality of the Self, whose whole nature is the fulness of bliss, washing away the delusions thine own mind has built up, be free, gaining thy end, perfectly awakened.

    Through Soul-vision, through the Self utterly unshaken, behold the Self’s reality, by the clear eye of awakening ; if the word of the scripture is perfectly perceived without wavering, then doubt arises no more.

    On gaining freedom from the bonds bound by unwisdom as to the Self; in the gaining of that Self whose nature is truth, knowledge, bliss; the holy books, reason, and the word of the guide are one’s evidences;. an evidence too is the realizing of the Self, inwardly attained.

    Freedom from bondage and joy, health of thought and happiness, are to be known by one’s self; the knowing of others is but inference.

    As the teachers, who have reached the further shore, and the teachings tell, let a man cross over through that enlightenment which comes through the will of the higher Self.

    Knowing the Self through one’s own realization, as one’s own part-less Self and being perfected, let him stand firm in the unwavering Self.

    This is the last and final word of the teaching : The Eternal is the individual life and the whole world; rest in the part-less One is freedom, in the Eternal, the second-less; and this too the scriptures shew. [480]

    Through the word of the Guide, and the evidence of the teaching, understanding the highest Being, through union with the Self he reached. perfect peace, intent on the Self, so that nothing could disturb him any more, resting altogether in the Self.

    Then after intending his mind for a while on the supreme Eternal rising again from the highest bliss he spoke this word:

THE PUPIL SPEAKS:

    Entangling thought has fallen away, its activity has dissolved, through mastery of the Self’s oneness with the Eternal; I know not this, nor anything that is not this; for what is it? how great is it? joy is its further shore.

    This cannot be spoken by voice, nor thought by mind; I taste the glory of the ocean of the Supreme Eternal, filled full of the ambrosial bliss of the Self. My mind, enjoying delight, like a watercourse, that had dried up, when the multitude of waters come, is full of happiness, even from the slightest portion of the honey-sweet bliss of the Self.

    Whither has this world of sorrow gone? what has taken it away? whither has it dissolved? Now I see that it no longer is,—a mighty
wonder!

    What is there for me to reject? what to choose? what else exists? Where is there difference in the mighty ocean of the Eternal, full of the nectar of part-less bliss?

    I see not, nor hear, nor know aught of this world; for I bear the mark of the Self, whose form is being and bliss.

    Honor, honor to thee, my Guide, mighty-souled to thee, who art free from sensuous bondage, who art most excellent, whose own nature is the essence of bliss of the second-less Everlasting, whose words are ever a mighty, shoreless ocean of pity.

    As one who was wearied with the heat, bathing himself and refreshed, in the enveloping light of the rayed moon, thus I have in a moment gained the part-less excellent bliss, the imperishable word, the Self.

    Rich am I, I have done what was to be done, freed am I from the grasp of the sorrowing world. My own being is everlasting bliss, I am filled full, through the favor of the Self. [490]

    Unbound am I, formless am I, without distinction am I, no longer able to be broken; in perfect peace am I, and endless; I am stainless, immemorial.

    I am neither the doer nor enjoyer; mine are neither change or act. I am in nature pure awakening. I am the lonely One, august for ever.

    I am apart from the personal self that sees, hears, speaks, acts, and enjoys; everlasting, innermost, without act ; the limitless, unbound, perfect Self awakened.

    I am neither this nor that; I am even he who illumines both, the supreme, the pure; for me is neither inner nor outer, for I am the perfect, second-less Eternal.

    The unequalled, beginningless reality is far from the thought of I and thou, of this and that; I am the one essence of everlasting bliss, the real, the second-less Eternal.  

   
I am the Creator, I am he who makes an end of hell, he who makes an end of all things old; I am the Spirit, I am the Lord; I am part-less awakening, the endless witness; for me there is no longer any Lord, no longer I nor mine.

    For I, verily, consist in all beings, enveloping them within and without, through the Self that knows; I myself am at once the enjoyer and all that is to be enjoyed,—What was seen before as separate,—through identity with it.

    In me, the ocean of part-less Bliss, world-waves rise manifold, and fall again, through the storm-winds of glamour’s magic.
In me, the material and other worlds are built up by glamour, through swift vibrations; just as in Time which has neither part nor division, are built up the world-periods, the years, the seasons, months, and days.

    Nor does the Self, on which the worlds are built, become stained by them, even through the deluded who are stained by many sins; just as even a mighty flood of mirage waters wets not the salt desert earth. [500]

    Like the ether, I spread throughout the world; like the sun, I am marked by my shining; like the hills, I am everlasting and unmoved; I am like an ocean without shores.

    I am not bound by the body, as the clear sky is not bound by clouds; whence then should the characters of waking, dreaming, dreamlessness, belong to me?

    The veil comes, and, verily, departs again; it alone performs works and enjoys them. It alone wastes away and dies, while I stand like a mighty mountain, forever unmoved.

    Neither forth-going nor return belong to me, whose form is ever one, without division. He who is the one Self, without fissure or separation, perfect like the ether,—how can he strive or act?

    How should righteousness or sin belong to me, who possess not the powers of sense, who am above emotion, above form and change, who experience ever part-less bliss; for the scripture teaches that in the Self is neither righteousness nor sin.

    What is touched by his shadow, whether heat or cold, or foul or fair, touches not at all the man, who is other than his shadow.
The natures of things beheld touch not the beholder, who is apart from them, sitting above unchanged, as the character of the house affects not the lamp.

    Like the sun which witnesses the act, like the tongued flame that leads the conflagration, like the rope that holds what is raised; thus am I, standing on the summit, the conscious Self.

    I am neither the actor, nor the causer of acts; I am neither he who enjoys, nor he who brings enjoyment; I am neither the seer, nor he who gives sight; I am the unequalled Self, self-luminous.

    When the disguise moves, just as the foolish-minded attribute to the sun the dancing of its reflection on the water, so one thinks: I am the doer, the enjoyer; I, also, am slain. [510]

    Let this inert body move on the waters or on dry land ; I am not thereby stained by their natures, as the ether is not stained by the nature of a jar.

    Acting, enjoying, baseness or madness, inertness or bondage or unloosing are the changes of the mind, and belong not really to the Self, the supreme Eternal, the pure, the second-less.

    Let Nature suffer changes ten times, a hundred, a thousand times; what have I to do with these commotions? For the lowering clouds touch not the sky.

    From the unmanifest, down to grossest things, all this world encountered is a mere reflection only. Like the ether, subtle, without begin. fling or end, is the second-less Eternal; and what that is, I am.

    All-embracing, illumining all things; under all forms all-present, yet outside all ;everlasting, pure, unmoved, unchanging, is the second-less Eternal ; and what that is, I am.

    Where the differences made by glamour have sunk to final setting, of hidden nature, perceived in secret, the Real, Wisdom, Bliss, and formed of bliss, is the second-less Eternal; and what that is, I am.

    Without act am I, without change, without division, without form; without wavering am I, everlasting am I, resting on nought else, and second-less.

    I am altogether the Self I am the All; I transcend all; there is none but me. I am pure, part-less awakening; I too am unbroken bliss.
This sovereignty, self-rule, and mighty power, through the goodness of thy pity, power, and might, has been gained by me, my guide, great souled; honor, honor to thee, and yet again honor.

    In that great dream that glamour makes, in that forest of birth and age and death, I wander wearying; daily stricken by the heat, and haunted by the tiger of selfishness; thou hast saved me, my guide, by waking me out of sleep. [520]

 

No. 7  JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE SONGS OF THE MASTER. pgs. 14 -16
III.

VERY much has been written, well and wisely, concerning the inner meaning of the Master’s Songs, and the life of the warrior of the chariot, his mystic bow, and his divine companion. Yet it would seem that our first understanding should be that almost every event and instruction in these songs, and in the vaster cycle of verses where they find a place, is the echo and record of some actual occurrence, which happened among the sons of men, as wars and rumors of war happen today. We find some difficulty in gaining a true and vigorous grasp of these old happenings, since even what is most actual and earthly among them is always wrapped about in myth, as with a half-transparent veil, which gives us elusive glimpses, that confuse rather than reveal.

    But these allegories are not very, difficult to understand and unravel, and we cannot do better than illustrate this than by recounting some of the stories that are told of Arjuna, beginning with his miraculous birth. His mother, as we know, was Kunti, the wife of good King Pandu; but we are told that Arjuna and his brothers were sons of immortals, the father of Arjuna being Indra, king of the gods. Here is a myth to interpret, and the interpretation seems to be this: the “father” seems to be an old veil for a former birth; the “mother” for the “works accumulated” which give the new birth its form. Thus one of the just men made perfect who returns to the world is born miraculously of a “virgin mother,’’ and a “celestial father’’ ; pure of works, that is, and from a past birth that had already reached divinity. This myth, then, of Arjuna’s sire being Indra, would mean that Arjuna had already been a king, a potent soul, born to sway the destinies of others. Here is the prophecy of Arjnna’s future greatness :

    “As soon as the child was born, a voice bodiless, loud and deep as the thunder-clouds, filling the heavens, spoke clearly to Kunti, so that all who were in the dwelling heard it: ‘ O Kunti; this son of thine will be equal in might to the War God, in valor to the great Transformer. Unconquerable as Indra himself, he will spread thy fame throughout the earth. As the god, the Pervader brought great joy to the All-Mother, so shall this son bring great joy to thee. Subduing the peoples of the south, the Kurus and many kings, he will uphold the greatness of the line of Kuru. This mighty hero, overcoming all the weaker kings of the land, and his brothers with him, will offer three great offerings. First of all men of valor, he will gain far-reaching fame. His heroism will gain the praise of the Transformer, the god of gods, who will give him a mighty celestial weapon. This thy son, mighty in arms, will slay also those dark powers whom they call the enemies of the gods. Weapons from heaven will he receive, and potent among men, restore the fallen glory of his race.’

    Thus the prophecy. It has been well fulfilled, for the name of Arjuna, long famous in his own land, has now been carried into the ends of the earth, five thousand years after the Mighty War of the sons of Bharata. He witnessed, and bore a mighty part in, such convulsions, wars, and race-renewals, as, perhaps, we are destined also to see, as the great time-circle brings in its revenges. From the ashes of the great war a new era arose, an era darkened by evil ambition in spiritual places. It may well be that now, in the fulness of time, that dark ambition to enslave the souls of men shall be cast down and overthrown. And with the name of Arjuna, known in every land, may once more be restored, after conflict and strife, the fallen glories of our race.

    At the teaching of the youth, it is recorded that “ in skill, and strength of arms, and perseverance, Arjuna surpassed all who learned with him. And the teacher of war, seeing that his pupil was greatly devoted to arms, summoned the cook, and thus secretly commanded him:

    ‘Never give Arjuna his food in the dark, nor let him know that I had ordered this! ‘ But after certain days, when Arjuna was eating, the wind rose fiercely, and the lamp was blown out. But Arjuna, undaunted, went on eating, in the darkness. And thereupon, noting this, and be thinking himself, the strong-armed son of Pandu set himself to practice with the bow, even in the night. And the teacher of warriors, hearing the twanging of his bowstring in the darkness, came to him, and folding him in his arms, spoke thus to him:

    ‘Verily, I shall teach thee that—whereby there shall not be a bowman like unto thee, throughout the earth.’ Thereafter, the teacher of the warriors began to instruct Arjuna in the art of fighting on horseback, or mounted on an elephant, or in a chariot, or on foot. And the mighty warrior also taught Arjuna to fight with the mace, the sword, the lance, the spear, and the javelin. And he also
taught him to fight with many weapons, and to meet many in the fight at once. And hearing the fame of his knowledge, kings and princes gathered together to the teacher of the warriors.

    Many other stories are told of Arjuna; of how a dark-skinned prince of the people of the hills shot better than he, and how the teacher, jealous for Arjuna’s honor, very treacherously persuaded the hill-man to cut off his right thumb, so that he should shoot no more; of how Arjuna excelled all the other pupils in shooting at a vulture on a tree, because the other pupils saw the vulture, the tree and the teacher, while Arjuna saw the vulture only, and of the vulture the head alone, and thou wholly intent on his aim, surpassed the others; of how his skill with the bow saved his warrior-teacher, who, bathing in the Ganges, had been seized by a crocodile. And they tell how, at a mighty contest of the princes, when the ladies of the court had assembled in the seats round the arena, decked with much gold and pearls, after songs and music had made all hearts glad, Arjuna entered in golden armor, his quiver full of arrows, shining like a cloud lit up at sunset. And Kunti, seeing the glory of her son, was moved to tears at the sight of him. And Arjuna, now in the chariot, now on the ground, shot well and skillfully, striking the swiftly moving iron boar, and sending thrice seven arrows into the hollow of a horn, swinging freely from a rope. And from these lesser conflicts grew in the end such jealousy and hate as afterwards rent the kingdom in two, and kindled the flame of the War of the sons of Bharata.


No. 7  JANUARY—FEBRUARY, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
FIFTH YEAR.

THE DREAM OF RAVAN. p.16
A MYSTERY.

MANY conjectures have been offered as to the source and authorship of this curious and wonderful book, which appeared in the first instance, some fifty years ago. It will probably be of the greatest interest to examine it somewhat closely, and to state, at length, the conclusion we are led to. To this end we hope to exhibit comparisons between the rendering of this work, and the Sanskrit text of Valuniki’ s poem, in order to show how far, and in what manner, the author has followed the Indian originals, and in this way to disengage the subjective from the literary element. We shall incidentally see whether the internal evidence may be induced to give us certain clues as to the personality of the author, and at the same time, we shall make enquiries, at the place of original publication, as to whether the name of the author has been preserved, and can be recorded. Whatever we learn, will be set forth here, in due course. Our present conjecture is, that this mystery is the work of a native in Ireland, long a resident in Western India, and a diligent student of Sanskrit there.
CHARLES JOHNSTON.

 

No. 8—MARCH--APRIL, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
SIXTH YEAR.

BAPTISM.
p. 17

THE Self, son of Bharata, is a river whose fords are righteousness, whose waters are truth, whose banks are conduct, whose waves are compassion; let thy baptism be in the Self son of Pandu, for not by water is the inner Self washed clean.

    Every attachment is to be given up by the Self; but if thou art not able to give it up, then let thy attachment be with the good, for attachment to the good is healing.

    Every desire is to be abandoned by the Self, but if thou art not able to abandon it, then let thy desire be towards freedom, for this is the healing of desire.


THE SORROWS OF DAMAYANTI. p.18 -19
Mahabharata, iii, vi, , viii-ix.

THEREON Damayanti, seeing King Nala, ruler of men, thus distraught, his thoughts wrapped up in the play, herself not distraught though full of fear and sorrow, thought long and much on what should be done for the King. Fearing his fault, yet longing to do his pleasure, and seeing him robbed of all his wealth, the daughter of Bhima spoke thus to Vrihatsenâ her nurse and much honored servant, whom she loved as a friend full of all good qualities, and very wise in speech.

    “Vrihatsen, go, summon the council, as by Nala’s command; go, see what treasure is gone, and how much wealth is still left untouched.”

    Thereon the ministers all, recognizing it as Nala’s command, and saying “let it be even as our destiny,” speaking thus, approached King Nala. And all the subjects came again a second time, and the daughter of Bhima announced them, but he heeded not.

And Damayanti, seeing that her husband heeded not her speech, again, entered her chamber, utterly cast down and put to shame.
But learning that the dice were ever adverse to Nala, and that Nala was losing all that he possessed, she again spoke thus to her nurse:
“Vrihatsenâ, go again to Varshneya, as by the command of Nala; bring the charioteer hither, for a great work is to be done.”
Then Vrihatsenâ, hearing this word of Damayanti’ s, had Varshneya brought, by men swift to carry out commands. Thereon Bhima’s daughter, engaging Varshneya with gentle words, spoke to him, knowing well the time and place for speech, and seeing that the time had come.

    “Thou knowest well that the King has ever placed fullest trust in thee; it is right, therefore, that thou shouldst aid him, in time of difficulty. For as ever more and more Nala is conquered by Pushkara, so ever more and more the rage grows on him for the game. And as the dice ever fall favorable to Pushkara, so Nala’ s adverse fortune with the dice is in equal measure seen. And as he hears not the voice of those that love him, even his own people, so even he heeds not my voice, utterly led astray. I appeal to thee for help, charioteer; accomplish, therefore, this word of mine. For my soul is not clear, and he may even perish thus. Yoke then Nala’s well loved, mind-swift horses, and taking our two children, go to the city Kundina. And leaving the two little ones among my kindred, and the chariot and these horses, either dwell there, if thou wilt, or go whithersoever it may please thee.”


   
And Nala’s charioteer Varshneya, hearing this word of Damayanti’s, at first declared it all to the council of Nala without omission; and when they had assembled and determined, then, with their consent he took the children and set them on the chariot, and carried them to the Vidarbhas. And the charioteer, leaving there the horses and the chariot, and the girl Indrasena and the boy Indrasena, announced the matter to King Bhima, grieving and sorrowing for King Nala. Then wandering forth, he went to the city Ayodhya, to King Ritaparna, and dwelt there full of sorrow. And there he entered the King’s service, as his charioteer.

    And after Varshneya was gone, as Nala went on playing, his kingdom was won from him by Pushkara, and whatever wealth he had, besides. And Pushkara spoke, mocking, to Nala, when he had won his kingdom.

    “Let us continue our game; what stake has thou still to play for? Verily Damayanti is left, and all else is lost. Let us then play for Damayanti as the stake, if it seems well to thee.”

    And thus addressed by Pushkara, Nala’s heart was torn by grief, and he replied not at all. But looking steadily at Pushkara, Nala, full of bitter sorrow, putting off from him his robes and all his splendid ornaments, kept for himself one garment only, the King who made the sorrow of his lovers to increase.

    Then the King went forth, leaving behind him his great happiness; and Damayanti also wearing one robe only followed after him as he went. And so with her Nala dwelt three nights beyond the gates. But Pushkara, now a mighty King, made a proclamation throughout the city, “whoever shall stand by Nala, shall meet with death by my command.”

    And through that word of Pushkara’s, and through his hatred, the men of the city could not befriend Nala; but he dwelt there without the city, worthy of friendship, but befriended by none; three nights he dwelt there, tasting water only, and when hunger afflicted him, gathering fruits and roots. Then he who had been a king departed, and Damayanti followed after him.


No. 8—MARCH--APRIL, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
SIXTH YEAR.

TEACHERS OTHER THAN HUMAN. pgs.19-22
Chhandogya Upanishad, iv, 4, 9.

SATYAKAMA the son of Jabala addressed his mother Jabala thus:
    —I am going to dwell with a teacher, in the service of the Eternal. Of what tribe am I?

    She, verily, spoke to him thus:
—I know not, dear, of what tribe thou art. For while I was going about much, and serving many, I received thee, in the time of my youth. Therefore I know not of what tribe thou art. But thou art Satyakama by name, and my name is Jabala; therefore thou mayest call thyself Satyakama, son of Jabala.

    He came to Haridrumat’s son, of the Gotamas, and said:
—I would dwell with thee as master, in service of the Eternal; let me come to thee as master.

    He said to him:
—Of what tribe art thou, beloved?

    And he answered him:
—I know not this, master, of what tribe I am. I asked my mother, but she answered me: While I was going about much, and serving many, in the season of my youth I received thee, so I know not of what tribe thou art. But my name is Jabala, and thy name is Satyakama.
    So I am Satyakama son of Jabala, master.

    And he replied to him:
—No one who is not full of the Eternal is worthy to speak out, thus. Bring thou the fuel, and I will initiate thee, for thou didst not depart from the truth.

    Then initiating him, he committed to him four hundred lean and ill-favored cattle, saying to him:
—Have these in thy care, beloved!

    And he, receiving them, said:
—I will not return until they number a thousand.
    And saying this, he remained for a series of years.
    And when they had reached the thousand, the leader of the herd addressed him, saying:
Satyakama!

    And Satyakama replied:
    —Speak!

    And he continued:
    —We have reached the thousand; lead us back to the family of the teacher. And let me declare to thee one step of the Eternal.
    —Let it be declared, sir! Said he.

    And he spoke to him:
    —The eastern space is a part; the western space is a part; the southern space is a part; the northern space is a part. This, verily, beloved, is a step of the Eternal, made up of four parts, and the name of it is the Manifest. And he who, knowing this thus, approaches this step of the Eternal with its four parts, as the Manifest, he becomes manifest in this world; he conquers manifest worlds, who, knowing this thus approaches this step of the Eternal as the Manifest. The Fire will teach thee the next step.


   
And, guarding the cattle on the next day, where they were at evening, there making a fire and penning the cattle, he put fuel on the fire, and sat down beside it, facing it.

    The fire spoke to him, saying:
    —Satyakama!

    And he replied, saying
    —Speak!

    —Let me tell thee a step of the Eternal.
    —Let it be told to me! Said he.

    The fire said to him:
    The earth is a part; the midworld is a part; the heaven is a part; the great deep is a part ; this, verily, beloved, is a step of the Eternal, made up of four parts, and the name of it is, the Unending.

    He who, knowing this thus, approaches this fourfold step of the Eternal, as the Unending, he becomes unending in this world; he conquers unending worlds, who, knowing this thus, approaches this fourfold step of the Eternal as the Unending. The swan will teach thee the next step.

    And guarding the cattle on the next day, where they were at evening, there making a fire and penning the cattle, he put fuel on the fire, and sat down beside it, facing it.

    And a swan, descending, and drawing near to him addressed him, saying:
    Satyakama!

    And he replied, saying:
    —Speak!
    —Let me tell thee a step of the Eternal.
    —Let it be told to me! Said he.

    The swan said to him:
    —Fire is a part; the sun is a part; the moon is a part; the lightning is a part ; this, verily, beloved; is a step of the Eternal, made up of four parts, and the name of it is, the Luminous.

    He who, knowing this thus, approaches this fourfold step of the Eternal as the Luminous, becomes luminous in this world; he conquers luminous worlds, who, knowing this thus, approaches this fourfold step of the Eternal as the Luminous. The bird of the ocean will teach thee the next step.

    And guarding the cattle on the next day, where they were at evening, there making a fire and penning the cattle, he put fuel on the fire, and sat down beside it, facing it.

    And a bird of the ocean descending, and drawing near to him, addressed him, saying:
    —Satyakama!


    And he replied, saying:
    —Speak!
    —Let me tell thee a step of the Eternal.
    —Let it be told to me, worthy one! Said he.

    The bird of the ocean said to him;
    —Life is a part; seeing is a part; hearing is a part; mind is a part; this, verily, beloved, is a step of the Eternal, made up of four parts, and the name of it is, the Possessor of the Treasure.

    He who, knowing this thus, approaches this fourfold step of the Eternal as the Possessor of the Treasure, becomes a possessor of the treasure in this world; he conquers worlds possessing the treasure, who, knowing this thus, approaches this fourfold step of the Eternal, as Possessor of the Treasure.

    He returned to the home of the teacher. The teacher addressed him, saying:
    —Satyakama!

    He replied, saying:
    —Speak, Master!
    —Thou shinest, beloved, like one who knows the Eternal; who has initiated thee into the teaching?

    And he replied:
    Other than mortals have initiated me. But let my teacher also speak according to my desire. For the teaching is learned from a teacher; this he gains as most excellent.

    Then he told him the same teaching. He left nothing untold; he left nothing, verily, untold.


No. 8—MARCH--APRIL, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
SIXTH YEAR.

SATYAKAMA SON OF JABALA. pgs. 22-26
“Inquire of the earth, the air, and the water, of the secrets they hold for you.”

HERE is a story of the utmost value, showing not only the best teaching of the books of Hidden Wisdom, but further admirably illustrating the manner in which the ancient mysteries are taught, and, lastly, pointing out the way in which we may follow in the same path, and master the same immemorial wisdom.

    The story is, throughout, a consistent allegory, conforming to the laws of universal symbolism. Satyakama, the fatherless, is the type of every soul in its last rebirth; already free from the tyranny of works, his former birth having left no seed for further bondage; he is no longer one of a chain or tribe of successive embodied personalities. Thus he is born of a virgin mother, of a mother alone, without a father. Thus the birth of all souls who have reached the threshold of wisdom, who have no more work in the world, but the attainment of liberation, and the conquest of the world, is symbolized by universal tradition, they are without human fathers, they are Sons of the Eternal.

    Satyakama, the tribe-less son of the Eternal, goes to the teacher, though destined to be taught by teachers other than human. This teacher is the type of intellect and measured thought, of the soul’s individual and human destiny, enclosed within the intellect’s limits.

    To Satyakama are entrusted four hundred cattle lean and ill-favored, which he is to guard and watch over, until they become a thousand. It will be remembered that, in the story of Raikva of the Chariot, a thousand cattle also formed the acceptable gift ; and that, in the legend of Nachiketas, lean and ill-favored kine were the insufficient offering, lacking the virtue to win the worlds of the gods. It will become clear at once that the lean and ill-favored cattle are the type and symbol of the powers and knowledge of unregenerate man, which must grow, and increase, and gain their perfect force and number, before the man is ready to become regenerate.

    In the philosphical systems of later times, when symbol and image gave place to logical and reasoned phrase, appealing now to the halting process of the mind, and no longer to direct intuition and imaginative power, the thousand cattle are spoken of as the ten qualifications, made up of six graces and four attainments, which must be fully gained, before any true progress is possible.
Here, it is said that the four hundred lean and ill-favored kine must become a thousand, well tended and well fed, before the pupil is entitled to approach the Master. The older symbol is far more living and vivid; for we must always remember that graces and attainments, and all works like these, are also symbols, shadows of realities; but shadows cast by the discursive reason, and no longer the potent images of free imagination.

    Imagination, which is a form of will, deals far more directly with life than does discursive reason; though we, unaccustomed to touch life directly through our wills, have persuaded ourselves to believe that the decrees of discursive reason are in some way more absolute; that life is a matter to be decided by reason, while, in reality, it is a problem to be solved by will; reason’s whole function is to balance and adjust the more positive and active will; to aid, as a servant, but never to rule as a master. We are in the habit of translating the things of will and imagination,—which are the direct powers of life itself,—into terms of discursive reason, and thinking that the will is the enigma, of which reason offers the solution. In very truth, discursive reason and its works are an endless enigma, which reason itself can never unravel, and which can and must be solved by will alone. Hence parables and images, which speak to the will through the imagination, are far nearer to real truth than the interpretations of the same parables in terms of discursive reason, in spite of our habitual prejudice in favor of the latter. It is therefore a confession that we are in a lower mood of mind, when we require parables to be interpreted for us; and it is a mark of the true records of the mysteries that they offer us parables and symbols, instead of giving us intellectual solutions which, in the nature of things, are lower and less true than the symbols they pretend to solve.

    This very truth, it would seem, is symbolized by the teachers of Satyakama. After learning from the “teachers other than human,” and gaining the light, so that his face shone as one who knows the Eternal, he returned to the human teacher, who repeated to him what he had already learned. Thus illumination comes first; after which it is the duty of discursive reason to adjust and equilibrate; to coordinate the result of enlightenment to the activities of outward life. For reason has no initiative, and can of itself bring no light; can of itself put us into possession of no substantial realities or living powers; these must come through the will, and only after reality and power are grasped, does the adjusting and coordinating work of reason begin. Reason can never create; it can only arrange and set in order.

    To turn, then, to the teachers of Satyakama, the instructors other than human. We must remember that the thousand cattle, are the perfectly developed and completed powers which bring the soul to the threshold of regeneration; which fit him, while still in the world, to conquer the world and pass beyond the world.

    It is clear, therefore, that these powers can not in themselves bring regeneration, nor give a picture and understanding of the great Beyond, though they can point the way thither, when the lesson is to be carried on by higher powers.

    The leader of the herd,—the head and front of the powers of man, still in personal life, but preparing to pass beyond it,—teaches, therefore, that the universe is made up of the four spaces, spoken of as eastern, western, southern, northern; or, as we should say, the perfected intellect, by itself, gives a picture of the universe as made up of four planes, each of which is imagined in the likeness of the visible plane we know, bound by space and time, though with other characters and colors. And so long as we are limited to the view of the intellect, even of the intellect perfected, we shall not be able to dissociate from the spiritual worlds these shadows of Space and Time which so thoroughly enthral us here. Thus far, the teaching of the leader of the herd, closed with the words: The Fire will teach thee the next step.


   
With admirable felicity, the allegory continues. Satyakama tends the cattle and watches over them, relinquishing none of the powers already gained and perfected. And where they have come to at “evening,”—at the end of that period of life and teaching, of that first cycle of knowledge,—he secures them against loss or harm, and kindles the fire which is to teach him further. Then sitting close to the fire, facing it, intent on the fire alone, he awaits its teaching.

    The Fire is the symbol of that world,—call it what you will, astral or psychic,—which lies immediately within this world of ours; or, to speak more truly, it is the world which we begin to realize, when the grossest and crudest illusions of matter begin to burst before us and melt away. This world, is in no sense created or revealed by the intellect, or powers of habitual life, however perfected; therefore the “leader of the herd” can teach nothing of character or being. It must be borne in upon consciousness from without; the Fire must speak first.

    Then arises a new understanding of the Universe; it is no longer grasped as four spaces or planes; it is understood as four limitless, infinite. worlds, spoken of here as the earth, mid-world, heaven and the great deep. At this point, the illusion of space begins to fade, and we enter deeper into realities. Again the Fire, taking us through this stage of understanding, brings us to the threshold of the next: The swan will teach thee the next step.

    Satyakama, whose name, “the seeker after the Real,” strikes the keynote of the soul’s aspiration, once more secures his cattle at evening, and sits down, in the gloom, before the fire, facing its light shining in the darkness. Then, through the gloom, the swan descends to him from the upper air; the new life of the white-winged Self of the ether comes to him from the serene world above, and carries on the teaching.

    Again, a new Universe is unfolded; a fresh treasure is revealed, of the incomparable riches of the Eternal. For it is part of the grand generosity of things that every step in advance is rewarded by the gift of a new world, in plenary possession. The Universe,—first conceived as four spaces, four planes; then as four unending worlds,—is now seen as the shining treasure of four luminous powers: fire, sun, moon, and lightning. We have come to understand all things as radiant outbursts of the infinite Will. We have conquered luminous worlds.

    One more lesson remains to be learned: that these radiances blossoming forth into the infinite, from the everlasting Will are the powers, not of another, but of the Self; that the Universe is the Self, awful in its divinity. This lesson is taught by the bird of the ocean; the winged dweller in the great deep, who is, indeed, no other than that self whom we truly are. The four steps of the Universe, which we had partly learned as outward worlds and powers before, are now taught as Life, Seeing, Hearing, Mind.

    Each of these is but a mode of the Self; whether as outward experience in the manifest world, outward perceiving in the mid-world, inward perceiving in the heavenly world, or inward consciousness,—perceived, perceiving and perceiver become one, in the supreme world of the mighty deep. Nothing is, but the Self, and these worlds are its powers, its radiances, its luminous breaths.

    Learning this thus, Satyakama returned to the dwelling of his mortal teacher. And the teacher addressed him : Thou shinest, beloved, like one who knows the Eternal! The mind recognizes, and joyfully admits, the light of the soul; and completes the work of learning, by keeping the newly gained powers in perfect balance, coordinated with outward life.


No. 8—MARCH--APRIL, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
SIXTH YEAR.

CONCERNING THREE BRAHMANS. pgs.26-28
The Book of Good Council: Hitopadesha, iv.
I.

IN the city of Devikota, there is a Brahman, Vedasharma by name. In the season of the equinox, he received a vessel of rice. Thereupon, taking it, and going to a potter’s shop full of pots and pans, and resting there in a quiet corner, he fell to meditating:

    “If I were to sell this vessel of rice, and get ten cowries, then with them I could buy water-pots and vessels here, and sell them again, and then doing this many times, with the increase of wealth gained thereby, again buying grain-jars and the like, and at last gaining a hundred thousand, I will thereupon marry four wives. And then, amongst those wives, whichever is the youngest and prettiest will be my special favorite. And when my other wives, their jealousy being enkindled, straightway make trouble, then very wroth I will correct the other wives after this fashion, with a club!

    Thinking thus, he threw his club. And his own rice-vessel was ground by it to powder, and many pots were broken. Thereupon when this was perceived by the potter who arrived suddenly on account of the sound of the breaking pottery, that Brahman was by him reviled, and cast forth without the shop.

II.

    In the forest of Gautama, a sacrifice was prepared. A certain Brahman, having bought a goat from another village, and setting it on his shoulder, was going homeward, when he was perceived by a triad of knaves. Then those knaves having considered the matter, waited for the Brahman, having taking up positions, at intervals along the road, under the shadow of three trees.

    The Brahman, approaching, was addressed by one of the knaves: Ho! Brahman! Why is this dog being carried by thee on thy shoulder?

    The twice-born says: This is no dog; this is a goat for sacrifice.

    After this, he was again addressed by the second, who had taken up his position a mile or two further on, and who spoke to him to the same effect. Hearing him, the Brahman, setting the goat upon the ground, and examining it repeatedly, and once more putting it on his shoulder, went forward, his mind wavering like a swing.

    Following upon this, hearing the like speech of the third knave, the aberration of his mind becoming fixed, abandoning the goat, and performing his ablutions, he went home.

    The goat, being led away by the knaves, was consumed.

III.

    In Ujjayini, there is a Brahman, Madhava by name. To him his wife bore a child. And she, his wife, leaving the Brahman to take care of the child, went out to the bathing place. Immediately after this, the Brahman received a summons to perform the funeral rites of ancestors for the King. Learning this, the Brahman, impelled by the poverty in which he had been born, thought as follows:

    If I go not speedily, then some other will there seize upon these funeral rites. For it is said :
                                                                    Of what should be taken or given,
                                                                    Or of some work to be done,
                                                                    If it be not accomplished quickly,
                                                                    Time drinks all its virtue up.
    But there is no one to guard my offspring; what am I to do? Let it be thus. Leaving this mongoose, whom I have for years cherished as a son of my own, to guard my offspring, I go.

    Thus doing, he went. Then a black snake which had approached close to the boy was slain by the mongoose, and eaten. Thereafter seeing the Brahman approaching, the mongoose, his mouth and feet smeared with blood, hurriedly going to meet him, licked the Brahman’s feet. Then the Brahman, seeing the condition of the mongoose, and thinking:

   
My son has been eaten by it; slew it. Thereupon the Brahman, going in and looking, saw the boy asleep and the serpent slain.

NOTE.

    These stories are given to reveal sides of Oriental life and thought which do not appear in the philosophic books. Many similar stories are connected, by tradition, with former births of Buddha. Some of these, we shall shortly translate.


No. 8—MARCH--APRIL, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
SIXTH YEAR.

THE PERFECT SAGE. pgs. 28-30
Shankara’s Vivekachudamai: The Crest-Jewel of Wisdom, 521-550.

THE PUPIL SPEAKS.

HONOR to that one Being, wherever it is; honor to the Light which shines through the form of all that is; and to thee king of teachers

    Beholding him thus paying honor,—a pupil full of worth, full of the joy of soul-vision, awakened to reality,—that king of instructors, rejoicing in his heart, that mighty souled one, addressed to him this final word:

THE TEACHER SPEAKS.

    This world is the offspring of the Eternal’s thought; thus, verily, the Eternal is the Real in all things. Behold it thus by the vision of the higher Self, with mind full of peace, in every mode of being. A certain Being, apart from form, is seen everywhere, of those who have eyes to see. Therefore knowers of the Eternal understand that whatever is other than this, is but the sport and workmanship of intellect.

    Who, being wise, and tasting that essence of supreme bliss, would delight any more in things of emptiness? Who desires to look on a painted moon, when the moon, the giver of delight, is shining?

    For through enjoyment of unreal things, there is no contentment at all, nor any getting rid of pain. Therefore contented by enjoying the essence of second-less bliss, stand thou rejoicing, resting on the Self that is true Being.

    Therefore beholding thyself everywhere, and considering thyself as second-less, let the time go by for thee, mighty minded one, rejoicing in the bliss that is thine own.

    And wavering doubt in the Self of part-less awakening which wavers not, is but of fancy’s building; therefore through the Self which is formed of second-less bliss, entering into lasting peace, adore in silence.


   
In the silence is the highest peace, because wavering is the intellect’s unreal work; there the knowers of the Eternal, mighty-souled, enjoy unbroken happiness of part-less bliss, recognizing the Self as the Eternal.

    There is no higher cause of joy than silence where no mind-pictures dwell; it belongs to him who has understood the Self’s own being; who is full of the essence of the bliss of the Self.

    Whether walking or standing, sitting or lying down, or wherever he may be, let the sage dwell according to his will, the wise man finding joy ever within himself.  [530.]

   
No distinctions of place or time, position or space are to be regarded as bringing release from bondage, for the mighty-souled, who has perfectly attained to reality. Of what avail are the rites of religion for one who has attained to wisdom?

    What religious rite will help one to know a jar, without having perceived it? But where there is direct perception, the object is perfectly understood.

    So when there is direct perception, the Self shines forth clearly, without regard to place or time or rites of purification.

    The direct knowledge, that “I am Devadatta,” depends on nothing else; and it is precisely thus with the knowledge that “I am the Eternal,” in the case of the knower of the Eternal.

    How could the not Self, the mere chaff of unreality, be the illuminer of that through the radiance of which the whole world shines, as through the sun?

    How can the scriptures or laws or traditions, or even all beings, illumine that by which alone they gain their worth?

    This Self, self-illumined, is of unending power, immeasurable, the direct knowledge of all; knowing this, the knower of the Eternal, freed from bondage, most excellent, gains the victory.

    Things of sense neither distress nor elate him beyond measure, nor is he attached to, or repelled by them; in the Self he ever joys, the Self is his rejoicing; altogether contented by the essence of uninterrupted bliss.

    As a child, who is free from hunger and bodily pain, finds delight in play, so the wise man rejoices, free from the sorrow of “I” and “mine.”

    His food is what is freely offered, eaten without anxiety or sense of poverty; his drink is the pure water of the streams; he moves where fancy leads him, unconstrained; he sleeps by the river-bank, or in the wood; for his vesture is one that grows not old or worn; his home is space; his couch, the world; he moves in paths where the beaten road is ended ; the wise man, delighting in the supreme Eternal. [540.]

   
Dwelling in this body as a mere temporary halting-place, he meets the things of sense just as they come, like a child subject to another’s will thus lives the knower of the Self, who shows no outward sign, nor is attached to external things.

    Whether clothed in space alone, or wearing other vestures, or clothed in skins, or in a vesture of thought; like one in trance, or like a child, or like a shade, he walks the earth.

    Withdrawing desire from the things of desire, ever contented in the Self, the sage stands firm through the Self alone.
Now as a fool, now a wise man; now as a great and wealthy king; now a wanderer, now a sage; now dwelling like a serpent, solitary; now full of honor; now rejected and unknown; thus the sage walks, ever rejoicing in perfect bliss.

    Though without wealth, contented ever; ever rejoicing, though without sensuous enjoyments; though not like others, yet ever seeming as the rest.

    Ever active, though acting not at all; though tasting no experience, yet experiencing all; bodiless, though possessing a body; though limited, yet penetrating all.

    This knower of the Eternal, ever bodiless, things pleasant or painful touch not at all, nor things fair or foul.

    For pleasure and pain, things fair and foul, are for him who is bound by the vestures, who believes them real; but for him whose bonds are broken, for the sage whose Self is real Being, what fruit is fair, or what is foul?

    Just as in an eclipse of the sun, people say, “the sun is darkened,” though the sun indeed is not darkened, and they speak ignorantly, knowing not the truth of things.

    Thus verily they behold the most excellent knower of Brahma as though bound to a body, while he is in truth freed for ever from the body, and they are deluded by the mere seeming of the body. [550]


No. 8—MARCH--APRIL, 1897.
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA.
ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT PAPER
SIXTH YEAR.

THE DREAM OF RAVAN. pgs. 30-32

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE DREAM.

IN fulfilling the promise to devote a series of studies to this wonderful book, we shall begin at the end, at the interpretation of the dream, before turning to the dream itself. Our justification for beginning at the end is this: So long as we are dealing with symbols, it is impossible for us to tell exactly how much they mean to the user of them, especially if he has found them ready to hand in the ancient books. One may repeat the parable of the hidden treasure, with perfect fidelity and truth; one may even add to it a wealth of imaginative detail, in perfect harmony with the original thought, and yet have no true idea of the parable’s meaning; it is only when the interpretation of the parable is approached that we see the measure of insight revealed.

    Therefore, before speaking of the parable of Ravan, we shall consider the interpretation of the dream. The interpretation is not wholly furnished by the author himself; indeed it would be nearer the truth to say that, for its form, and even for much of its expression, he is in debted to a work we are all familiar with, and which was translated for the first time in these pages—Tattva Bodhi, or the Awakening to Reality. This debt is here fully acknowledged; but we may say, for the author, what he could hardly say for himself: that his understanding of Shankara’s thought, and of Tattva Bodha in particular, exhibits a robust individuality and masculine vigor which one is quite unused to look for, in the works of western scholars. The anonymous author of the Dream
of Ravan has, as he admits, drawn upon the Tattva Bodha for the outline of his interpretation; but, in so doing, he makes it abundantly manifest that he has not only thoroughly mastered its thought intellectually, but has further realized it in experience and intuition. In following Shankara’s analysis, he by no means surrenders his individuality, but rather enriches the work he is studying by his own original force and imaginative power. Take, for instance, this definition of the three vestures “Man is represented as a prismatic trinity, veiling, and looked through by, a primordial unity of light. Gross outward body; subtle—internal body, or soul; a being, neither body nor soul, but absolute self-forgetfulness, called the cause-body, because it is the original sin of ignorance of his true nature which precipitates him from the spirit into the life condition. These three bodies, existing in the waking, dreaming, sleeping states, are all known, witnessed, and watched, by the spirit which standeth behind and apart from them, in the unwinking vigilance
of ecstacy, or spirit waking.”

    This is almost a word for word translation of Shankara, but at the same time a rendering of the utmost vigor and force, such as no mere student of the teacher’s words could compass, without being at the same time master of the teacher’s thoughts. The last phrase, the unwinking vigilance of ecstasy, is clearly a translation of the words of another treatise of Shankara’s, which I have translated “unwavering soul-vision.”

    We may note, further, that what is said of the cause-body, or causal body, as we more generally render it, seizes the very heart of one of the most difficult passages in Shankara’ s work, because it is a passage which embodies a most difficult thought. It is this: the causal body, the vesture of the highest self finite thought can conceive, a vesture above time and space, and therefore eternal and all-present, and thus fulfilling our ideal of immortal divinity, yet owes its very being to delusion, to ignorance, to unreality. For the causal body is the root and cause of individuality, of separation from the supreme Self and from all other individual selves. Therefore, when we have reached the causal body, and identified ourselves fully with the causal self, thus gaining immortality above time and space, our work is far from ended; rather, it is only just begun. For, though we have rid ourselves of two illusions, a third illusion, root of the other two, still remains, ready to give quick birth to them again, and to plunge us once more in the ocean of birth and death. For the causal self, for all its immortality and divinity, yet believes itself to be a separate individuality, apart from others, apart from the Eternal. It is the facet of the diamond, not the diamond itself.

    It has yet to overcome the heresy of separateness, to learn that nothing is, but the Eternal. Our ideal is, therefore, not an isolated being, however potent and magnificent, radiant as the gods, but also limited like the gods; our ideal is that ancient and immemorial Spirit, which wells up in beneficence within the heart, which made all things and gave them them joy; or, more truly, which is all things and the bliss of all things. So, on that last and highest threshold, the same dread presence of the selfless spirit must well up within the heart of the causal self, calling it back from the last vesture of limitation, into the deeps of the limit-less divine.

    Then only comes the end of the way, where the soul goes forth on paths that mortals never tread, entering into the secret places of the Eternal, whose heart is never-ending joy.

    No wisdom, and no knowledge can supply the place of that present spirit in the heart, the selfless Self for which we must give up ourselves and all the world, to gain them thereby for the first time truly, for that selfless Self is ourselves and all the world, and nothing is, but That.

    Or, in the words of the Interpretation of the Dream: “Being culminating to Consciousness; conscious Thought returning and entering into Being with an eternal Joy. Being worketh eternally in the depths, but knoweth not itself. Thought, generated in the eternal centre, giveth forth the Great Utterance, and calleth out, I am the Eternal. Being becometh then revealed unto itself in Thought, and between Thought and Being an eternal Joy ariseth.”