The Convention of the American Section of the Theosophical Society at Chicago, Illinois, in September, 1902, at which I had the privilege of being present, was for me the starting-point of a two years’ lecturing tour throughout the United States in the interests of that Section of the Society – a tour patiently and laboriously planned and worked out down to the minutest detail with loving and painstaking care by its late and indefatigable General Secretary, Mr. Alexander Fullerton.

It was determined that before visiting the Branches in the far West I should spend six months in Chicago, delivering a course of twenty-six lectures in Steinway Hall on the Sunday evenings, and speaking at the Branch meetings during the week. This course of lectures was designed to put before the public in broad outline some of the principal teachings of Theosophy, and also to help men to realize something of its scope and comprehensiveness by showing how wonderfully all else is included in it – how it is the mighty truth underlying all systems of religious thought, even those which differ as much on the physical plane as do Buddhism, Christianity and the Ancient Mysteries, and how also it offers the only rational and coherent explanation of the phenomena connected with clairvoyance, telepathy, mesmerism, spiritualism, dreams and apparitions. The titles of the lectures were as follows:

List of Subjects

1902
October 5. Man and His Bodies
October 12. The Necessity of Reincarnation
October 19. The Law of Cause and Effect
October 26 Life After Death – Purgatory
November 2. Life After Death – Heaven
November 9. The Nature of Theosophical Proof
November 16. Telepathy and Mind Cure
November 23. Invisible Helpers
November 30. Clairvoyance – What it is
December 7. Clairvoyance – In Space
December 14. Clairvoyance – In Time
December 21. Clairvoyance – How it is Developed
December 28. Theosophy and Christianity

1903
January 4. Ancient and Modern Buddhism
January 11. Theosophy and Spiritualism
January 18. The Rationale of Apparitions
January 25. Dreams
February 1. The Rationale of Mesmerism
February 8. Magic, White and Black
February 15. Use and Abuse of Psychic Powers
February 22. The Ancient Mysteries
March 1. Vegetarianism and Occultism
March 8. The Birth and Growth of the Soul
March 15. How to Build Character
March 22. Theosophy in Every-day Life
March 29. The Future that awaits us

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTORY

The Other Side of Death. The lecture on Invisible Helpers, the four upon Clairvoyance, and that upon Dreams are fully represented by books of my own already published, and bearing the same titles as the lectures. Nos. 1 to 7 inclusive have also been published in pamphlet form. The remainder appear in this book, with the exception of No. 23, which was practically an epitome of certain chapters from Man Visible and Invisible and The Christian Creed, and dealt briefly with a subject which is fully and ably treated by Mrs. Besant in The Birth and Evolution of the Soul. No. 18 is presentation of its subject largely summarized from Mr. A.P.Sinnett’s book of the same name, to which readers should turn for further particulars.

The course of lectures as a whole offered a popular and necessarily somewhat superficial exposition from the Theosophical standpoint of most of the manifestations of occultism known to the Western world at the present day, and it gave also a few glimpses into the fuller and more perfect manifestations which were current two thousand years ago. It seems to me, therefore, that these lectures may perhaps be of some use to our members, as offering them a starting point for their thought along all these various lines, and it is with that hope that I am putting them before our Society in this form. They appear here almost as they were delivered, except that, now they are all brought together, some repetitions are excised, and a few quotations are given more fully than in the original lecture. I have made no attempt to recast them from the lecture style into the essay style, as that would have needed far more time than can be given during a somewhat arduous tour, and would therefore have indefinitely delayed their appearance in print.

The lecture on The Unseen World was delivered during a previous visit to Chicago, but it is included here because it is to some extent a synthesis of some of those earlier lectures of the series which are fully published elsewhere, and so it serves as a useful introduction to many of those that follow it. The Gospel of Wisdom was delivered in connection with the Convention to which I have previously referred, before the first lecture of this series; but I have placed it at the end, instead of at the beginning, because it seems to fall naturally into place there, and concludes my book with the strong assertion of a fact whose proclamation I believe to be one great part of the mission of Theosophy to the Western world – the mighty truth that all things are working together for the final good of all, that the great Divine Father means us to be happy, and that we shall be so in proportion to our knowledge of His will and our glad co-operation with its action.

CHAPTER II: ANCIENT

THEOSOPHY AND CHRISTIANITY

Many persons who feel themselves attracted towards Theosophy, whose interest is aroused by its reasonableness and by the manner in which it accounts for many things which otherwise seem inexplicable, yet hesitate to take up its study more deeply, lest they should presently find it contradicting the faith in which they have been brought up – lest, as they often put it, it should take away from them their religion. How, if a religion be true, the study of another truth can take it away, is not clear; but, however illogical the fear may be, there is no doubt that it exists. It is nevertheless unwarranted, for Theosophy neither attacks nor opposes any form of religion; on the contrary, it explains and harmonizes all. It holds that all religions alike are attempts to state the same great underlying truths – differing in external form and in nomenclature, because they were delivered by different teachers, at different periods of the world’s history, and to widely different races of men; but always agreeing in fundamentals, and giving identical instruction upon every subject of real importance. We hold in Theosophy that this truth which lies at the back of all these faiths alike is itself within the reach of man, and indeed it is to that very truth that we give the name of Theosophy, or Divine Wisdom, and it is that which we are trying to study.

This, then, is the attitude of Theosophy towards all religions; it does not contradict them, but explains them. Whatever in any of them is unreasonable or obviously untrue it rejects as necessarily unworthy of the Deity and derogatory to Him; whatever is reasonable in each and all of them it takes up and emphasizes, and thus combines all into one harmonious whole. No man need fear that we shall attack his religion, but we may help him to understand it better than he did before. There is nothing in Theosophy which is in any way in opposition to true primitive Christianity, though it may not always be possible to agree with the interpretation put upon that truth by modern dogmatic theology, which is quite another matter.

Most people never apply their reason to their religious beliefs at all; they vaguely hope that it is all right somehow; indeed, many faithful souls consider it wrong to think critically upon any point of faith, for they suppose these things to be greater than human understanding. When people do begin to think, they invariably begin to doubt, because modern theology does not present its doctrines reasonably, and so they soon find that many points are irrational and incomprehensible. Too often they then feel that their whole basis of faith is undermined, and they proceed to doubt everything. To all such souls struggling for light I would recommend the study of Theosophy, for I am convinced that it will save them from the dark abysses of materialism by presenting truth to them in a new light, and giving back to them all that is most beautiful in their faith, but on a new and surer basis of reason and common-sense.

In order that it may be clear to you that there is in reality to opposition between Christianity and Theosophy, let me put before you the basic principles of the latter ; that you may not suppose that I am clothing them in an unusually Christian dress for the purposes of this lecture, I will quote them from a little book which I have recently written for beginners in this study. It is called An Outline of Theosophy, and in it I give three great basic truths, certain corollaries which follow from them, and then the results which in turn proceed from Theosophical belief.

THE THREE GREAT TRUTHS

The three great truths are:-

1. God exists, and He is good.

2. Man is immortal, and his future is one whose glory and splendour have no limit.

3. A divine law of absolute justice rules the world, so that each man is in truth his own judge, the dispenser of glory or gloom to himself, the decreer of his life, his reward, his punishment.

To each of these great truths are attached certain others, subsidiary and explanatory. From the first of them it follows:

1. That, in spite of all appearances, all things are definitely and intelligently moving together for good; that all circumstances, however untoward they may seem, are in reality exactly what are needed; that everything around us tends, not to hinder us, but to help us, if it be only understood.

2. That, since the whole scheme thus tends to man’s benefit, it is clearly his duty to learn to understand it.

3. That when he thus understands it, it is also his duty intelligently to co-operate in this scheme.

From the second great truth it follows:

1. That the true man is a soul, and that this body is only an appanage.

2. That he must therefore regard everything from the standpoint of the soul, and that in every case when an internal struggle takes place he must realize his identity with the higher and not with the lower.

3. That what we commonly call his life is only one day in his true and larger life.

4. That death is a matter of far less importance than is usually supposed, since it is by no means the end of life, but merely the passage from one stage of it to another.

5. That man has an immense evolution behind him, the study of which is most fascinating, interesting and instructive.

6. That he also has a splendid evolution before him, the study of which will be even more fascinating and instructive.

7. That there is an absolute certainty of final attainment for every human soul, no matter how far he may seem to have strayed from the path of evolution.

From the third great truth it follows:

1. That every thought, word or action produces its definite result – not a reward or a punishment imposed from without, but a result inherent in the action itself, definitely connected with it in the relation of cause and effect, these being really but two inseparable parts of one whole.

2. That it is both the duty and interest of man to study the divine law closely, so that he may be able to adapt himself to it and to use it, as we use other great laws of nature.

3. That it is necessary for man to attain perfect control over himself, so that he may guide his life intelligently in accordance with the law.

This is not a Theosophical creed which I am formulating, for these principles are not put forward as articles of faith, but are stated as definite facts, known to be such through personal investigation by many of us, and verifiable by all who are willing to take the trouble to qualify themselves for the study. We are not asking you to accept anything more than we ourselves know to be true. Here and there, it is true, we touch upon matters too high for any direct knowledge that we who are students as yet possess; in such cases, any statements which we make are on the authority of other and older students who know much more than we; but when that is so, we always say so definitely, keep clear the distinction between that which we ourselves know and that which we only believe, even though we believe it on the best possible authority. We simply present the system for your consideration; if it seems to you reasonable, take it and examine it thoroughly, study it and live the life which it recommends. Since that life is a noble one, no harm can come to you from trying such an experiment.

Is There any Contradiction?

These then are the principles of Theosophy; do they in any way contradict those of Christianity? I venture to say that there is nothing in them which is at all in opposition to the true primitive Christianity when it is properly understood, though there may be statements which cannot be reconciled with some of the mistakes of modern popular theology. Let me try to show you how this is so. The principal points in this scheme of ours to which modern orthodoxy would take exception are the implied doctrines of reincarnation and karma – the latter meaning the Divine law of eternal justice under which every man must inevitably bear the consequences of his own misdoings, and no one else can under any circumstances relieve him of his responsibility.

Modern theology attaches immense importance to texts; in fact, it appears to me to be based upon one or two texts almost entirely. It takes these and gives to them a particular interpretation, often in direct opposition to the plain meaning of other texts from the same bible. Of course there are contradictions in the bible, just as there must necessarily be in any book of that size, its various books being written at such widely separated periods of the world’s history, and by people so unequal in knowledge and in civilization. It is impossible that all these statements can be literally true, but we can go back behind them all, and try to find out what the original teacher did lay before his pupils. Since there are many contradictions and many interpretations, it is obviously the duty of a thinking Christian to weigh carefully the different versions of his faith which exist in the world, and decide according to his own reason and common-sense. Every Christian does as a matter of fact decide for himself now; he chooses to be a Roman Catholic, or a member of the Church of England, or a Methodist, or a Salvationist, though each of these sects professes to have the only genuine brand of Christianity, and justifies its claim by quotation of texts. How then does the ordinary layman decide between their rival claims? Either he accepts blindly the faith which his father held, and does not examine at all, or else he does examine, and then he decides by the exercise of his own judgment. If he is already doing that, it would be absurd and inconsistent for him to refuse to examine all texts, instead of basing his belief only upon one or two. If he does impartially examine all texts, he will certainly find many which support Theosophical truths.

How Divergence Arises.

Do not think that you are disloyal to the Founder of Christianity if you admit the existence of different interpretations and the possibility of error in all of them. Divergence always happens of necessity in the growth of every religion. If you think of it impartially, you will see that it must be so. In every one of them there is always first the Teacher himself, putting forth his presentation of the truth with all the force of direct personal knowledge, surrounded by disciples whose enthusiasm is stirred by their contact with him, so that they feel a certainty not inferior to his own. Perhaps some of them under the influence of his magnetism develop the power to see many truths at first-hand for themselves. In time the Teacher leaves them, and the generation of his disciples dies out. The religion is carried on by their followers in turn, and these have usually no direct personal access to the truth, but mould their faith upon the doctrine given by those who preceded them. Presently this doctrine comes to be written down, lest it should be forgotten or distorted, and so a scripture arises. It is not easy so to write that it shall be impossible for man to misunderstand, and thus presently arise various interpretations. Naturally different teachers interpret in various ways, and thus sects come into existence, and bitterness of feeling arises between them. A church grows up – a body of men who consider that they alone hold this new truth, whose direct interest it is to maintain a certain interpretation of it. Presently this new church acquires property, and thus vested interests are established, and considerations entirely foreign to the true religious spirit (and often indeed entirely hostile to it) are inevitably introduced. Then crystallization ensues, and with that we have narrowness, bigotry, worldliness and consequent degradation; and all this not from any especial vice or carelessness on the part of any one concerned, but in the natural course of history.

We may see how this has happened with Hinduism and with Buddhism; if we can only look with an impartial eye, we shall see how it has happened with Christianity also, though I know that many good orthodox people would consider it wicked and atheistic to say so; but surely it cannot be wicked to state what is true as shown in the pages of history. Since this was obviously the case, if we wish to discover and study the true Christianity we must go back to the original doctrines, and see how the teachings were interpreted in the earlier times. If we do this we shall find that the faith taught then was by no means the iron-bound theology of the present day, but a far more spiritual and philosophical religion, corresponding in many points with the truth that lies behind all religions, which we now study under the name of Theosophy.

Reincarnation

As I have said, the principal points is that outline of Theosophy to which exception would be taken by the orthodox theologian are those of reincarnation and of the inevitable and automatic action of Divine justice. Neither of these doctrines is held by the church of the present day, yet I think we shall find a certain amount of evidence that they were not unknown during the earlier periods. Few direct reference to the doctrine of reincarnation are to be found in the scriptures as we now have them, but there are one or two which are unmistakable. There is one clear definite statement by Jesus himself, which of course must settle the question once for all for any one believes in the gospel history and in the inspiration of the scriptures. When he has been speaking of John the Baptist, and enquiring what opinions were generally held about him, he terminates the conversation by the emphatic pronouncement "If ye will receive it, this is Elias which was for to come." (Matthew XI 14)

I am aware that the orthodox theologian thinks that Jesus did not mean what he said in this case, and wishes us to believe that he was endeavouring to explain that Elias had been a type of John the Baptist. But in reply to such a disingenuous plea it will be sufficient to ask what would be the thought of any one who in ordinary life tried to explain away a statement in so clumsy a fashion. Christ knew what was the popular opinion with reference to such matters; he knew that he himself was supposed by the common people to be a reincarnation sometimes of Elijah, sometimes of Jeremiah, and sometimes of one of the other prophets (Mathew xvi, 14); and he was aware that the return of Elijah had been prophesied and that all the common people were in constant expectation of his advent. Consequently in making a direct statement such as this he cannot but have known exactly all his hearers would understand him. "If ye will receive it" – that is to say, if you can believe it – " this man is the very Elijah whom you are expecting." That is an unequivocal statement, and to suppose that when Christ said that he did not mean it, but instead intended to express something vague and symbolical, is to accuse him of wilfully misleading the people by giving to them a direct statement which he must unquestionably have known that they could take only in one way. Either Christ said this or he did not say it; if he did not say it, what becomes of the inspiration of the gospel? If he did say it, then reincarnation is a fact.

Another reference to this doctrine occurs in the story of the man who was born blind, and was brought to Jesus to be cured. The disciples enquired: "Master, who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" (John ix. 2.). This question implies belief in a large proportion of the Theosophical doctrine in the minds of those who asked it. You will note that they clearly hold to the idea of cause and effect and of Divine justice. Here was the case of a man born blind – a terrible affliction, of course, both for the child himself and for his parents. The disciples realized that this must be the result of some sin or folly; and their question is as to whose sin it was that had brought about this deplorable result. Was it that the father had been so wicked that he deserved to have the sorrow of a blind son; or was it that in some previous state of existence the man himself had sinned, and so brought upon himself this pitiable fate? Obviously, if the latter were the true solution the sins which deserved this punishment must have been committed before he was born – that is to say in a previous life; so that in fact both the great pillars of Theosophical teaching to which we have referred are clearly implied in this one question.

The answer of Jesus is noteworthy. We know that on other occasions he was by no means backward in commenting vigorously upon inaccurate doctrine or practice; he spoke strongly on many occasions to the Scribes and Pharisees and others. If therefore reincarnation and the idea of Divine justice were false and foolish beliefs, we should certainly expect to find him taking this opportunity to rebuke his disciples for holding them; yet we notice that he does nothing of the kind.

He accepts their suggestions as matters of course; he does not reprove them in any way, but explains that neither of the hypotheses which they suggest is the true cause of the affliction in this particular case; "neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents; but that the works of God should be made manifest in him."

Years ago an English clergyman wrote a remarkable book called From Death to the Judgment Day, in which he showed that reincarnation was the great secret teaching of the Christian religion, which cleared up all its difficulties and made it into a coherent and rational system. Quite lately a Methodist minister in America has published a book called Birth a New Chance, in which he argues the same question, though along different lines. His theory of rebirth only partially agrees with ours, since he denies that the soul has at present any intelligent existence apart from its successive physical bodies; but it is interesting to find that along such different lines of thought men of various shades of opinion are beginning to see the necessity of this fundamental doctrine.

A paragraph from the former book is worth quoting here, as showing how the idea of reincarnation strikes a thoughtful and unprejudiced orthodox Christian, "Scripture distinctly asserts that we shall be judged and rewarded or condemned, according to our actions committed on this earth. . . therefore, we cannot suppose later conditions to be superior to the conditions under which we now exist, for that would necessitate the advancement of those doomed to eternal punishment to a more glorious life, from which they must ultimately be degraded to everlasting shame; neither can we suppose them to be inferior to those which we now enjoy, for that would degrade the virtuous; nor can we suppose separate states one of advancement for the virtuous, and one of retrogression for the wicked, for that would be to create a hell inhabited by evil creatures doomed to pursue evil before the final judgment; all these suppositions anticipate the final judgment; no authority can be found in scripture to support any of them. It is therefore evident that if there is any active existence for the soul after death, the conditions under which it must exist cannot differ from those under which it exists on earth. Since these conditions cannot differ from our present condition, we are drawn to the inevitable conclusion that they must be the same; that if there be any existence for the soul after death, it must be in a human body on this earth. The conclusion arrived at is that after death the soul goes again through the process of birth, and appears on earth in the body of an infant; that the time between death and the judgment day will be passed in successive lives on earth." The author then undertakes to show "not only that this conclusion is authorized by scripture, but also that all the doctrines of the Christian faith are based on it; that it is the key-note of Christ’s teaching, the reason of our existence on this earth, and the only means by which we can eventually attain salvation." Again he adds; "If this theory be accepted, the belief of the Universalists (that all will eventually be saved) becomes possible." – (From Death to Judgment Day, by Gerald D’Arcy, p.13)

Furthermore, it relieves us of many and great difficulties. Think of the terrible inequality in the world. If we look around us in any great city we shall see some living in luxury and others starving, some who have all kinds of advantages in the way of higher teaching, of art and music and philosophy to develop the moral side of their natures, and others who are living in the midst of criminality, who have practically no chance whatever of moral progress in this incarnation. Take the case of a child who is born in one of the slums of a great city, born in an atmosphere of crime, from a father who is a drunkard and a mother who is a thief. That child from the day of his birth has never seen anything but crime and sin; he has never seen the bright side of life in the least, and he knows nothing at all of any religion. What chance of progress has he that is in any way equal to the chance that we ourselves have had? What is the advantage to that child of all our music, our art, our literature and philosophy? If you could suddenly snatch him out of those surroundings, and put him among us, he would not in the least understand our life, because he has not been brought up to it. His opportunity is assuredly not in any sense equal to ours. If you go outside the pale of civilization you will still find savage races existing in various parts of the world; what of their opportunities? It is not conceivable that those men can develop as fully as we. How is this to be accounted for?

The Three Hypotheses

There are three possible hypotheses – three possible theories of life. First, there is the materialistic hypothesis that there is no scheme of life at all, that we are simply ruled by blind chance; we are born by chance and we die by chance, and when we die that is the end of us. That is not a particularly satisfactory theory, not one which we should desire to accept unless we found ourselves forced to it. But are we so forced? I think not; in fact, all the evidence tells distinctly in the opposite direction. What is the use of all this progress that we see taking place around us if it is not working towards a definite end?

The second hypothesis is that of Divine caprice, the theory that God puts one man here and another there because He chooses to do so, and that, although their opportunities of progress are utterly unequal, their eternal destiny hereafter nevertheless depends in all cases upon their success in achieving a high level of morality. This theory makes no attempt to account for the inequalities in earth-life, and offers precisely the same heavenly reward to all of the small number who are supposed to attain it at all, quite irrespective of the amount of suffering endured here. Some modification of this theory is at present suggested by most of the Occidental forms of religion, though it is by no means the true and original teaching of Christianity.

Certainly it would seem to a thinking man that a God who has put us in a position amid respectable surroundings in which we could not easily go far wrong, and at the same time has put another man in a situation such as we have described, where it is almost impossible for him to do right, can hardly be a just deity. Indeed some of most deeply religious of men have felt themselves sorrowfully forced to admit that either God is not all-powerful, and cannot help the misery and sin which we see in the world about us, or else that He is not all-good, and does not care about the sufferings of His creatures. In Theosophy we hold most firmly that He is both all-loving and all-powerful, and we reconcile this belief with the facts of life around us by means of this doctrine of reincarnation. I know of no other theory through which such reconciliation is possible; and surely the only hypothesis which allows us rationally, and without shutting our eyes to obvious facts, to hold the belief that God is an all-powerful and all-loving Father is at least worthy of careful examination, before we cast it contemptuously aside in order to blazon forth our conviction that He does not possess those qualities. Observe that there is absolutely no other alternative; either reincarnation is true, or the idea of Divine justice is nothing but a dream.

How does orthodoxy deal with so weighty a consideration as this? Usually it scarcely attempts to deal with it at all, but contents itself with vaguely remarking that God’s justice is not as man’s justice. That is probably true; but at least Divine justice must be greater than ours, and not less; it must be an extension of ours, including considerations which are beyond our reach – not something falling so far short of ours as to involve atrocities which even we who are only men would never think of committing.

But what is our third hypothesis? What does the theory of reincarnation suggest to us? That the life of man is a far longer life that we have supposed; that man is a soul and has a body, and that what we have called his life is but one day in the true and greater life of that soul. Man rises in the morning, and learns the lesson of his day, and when he is tired he lies down to sleep; and the next day he comes back again like a child to school, and learns another lesson. The body is nothing but the dress which he puts on when he is ready to go out for the day’s work at school, and lays aside when that day’s work is over in order to enjoy greater freedom during his rest at home. For each day he has a new body, and again and again he revisits earth to learn more and more of these lessons, to acquire new and higher qualities, and so evolution proceeds.

Thus we realize that less evolved souls are simply children in a lower class, and that they are not to be regarded as wicked or backsliding, but only as younger brothers. Think of the child at the kindergarten; he practically plays most of the time. They do not set him at once to the higher schoolwork, because at that stage he could not understand it, and such teaching would be useless and injurious to him. Just the same thing is true with regard to a soul; it could not receive the higher teaching at first. It must begin with the stronger, coarser impacts from without, which reach it in savage life; it must be stirred by those vigorous and insistent shakings before it can learn to respond to the finer vibrations at higher levels which in advanced civilization will afford it such varied opportunities of rapid development. So by slow degrees and through many lives that soul will reach our own lever; but it does not stop there. There have been many men in the world who have stood head and shoulders above their fellows; they show us what we shall be, and they are in themselves a proof of reincarnation, for there is no conceivable single life that could evolve a savage into an Emerson, a Plato or a Shakespeare. If we accept reincarnation we can account rationally for the existence side by side in the world of the criminal and the philosopher – but on no other hypothesis can this be done.

To understand it fully we must take along with it the other great Theosophical doctrine of Karma, the law of cause and effect, and realize that if a man disturbs the equilibrium of Nature it will press back upon him with exactly the same force that he himself employed. It is under this law that he is being reborn; if he finds himself in certain surroundings, it is because he has so acted in a former life as to bring himself under these conditions. He has made his place for himself, and he is receiving not only exactly what he has deserved, but also just such training as it best for his evolution.

This great intrinsic part of the Theosophical doctrine must never be forgotten. Though the man does not bring over with him in his memory the details of his previous life, his soul does bear within it the qualities developed in that life, so that he is precisely what he has made himself, and no effort is ever lost. Thus the whole of the world is one mighty graded course of evolution. When the savage has had as many lives and as much experience as we have had, he will probably stand where we do; for thousands of years ago we stood exactly where he now is. It is simply that he is younger, and we should no more blame him for that than we blame a child of five because he is not yet ten.

Observe also how blessed is the consolation of realizing that we have all eternity before us in which to develop. Christ’s command to his disciples was: "Be ye perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect," but if we face the facts we must admit that we cannot become perfect in one life. Only in this doctrine of many lives is there any possibility that this command can ever be obeyed. But with the infinite opportunity which reincarnation gives us, surely we also shall grow onward and upward, till we reach the level of the saints and sages, the philosophers and the saviours of mankind. But it is only in the knowledge of the wider life that we see this to be possible – nay, not possible only, but certain.

Among the early fathers of the church it will be found that this doctrine was at least to some extent understood. Direct references to it are few, but that may well have been because it was regarded rather as one of the secret teachings than as something to be spoken of openly or in public. As to this secret doctrine I shall have a few words to say presently; but let me for a moment pass on to the consideration of the other great doctrine of Divine justice.

The Law of Cause and Effect

Since these words are frequently upon the lips of the professors of religion, it might perhaps be thought at first sight that we should have no need to vindicate to them our teaching of this law of justice. Yet assuredly a great deal of the religious teaching of the present day distinctly includes a theory that we may escape from the consequence of our actions; indeed modern theology concerns itself principally with a plan for evading Divine justice, which it elects to call "salvation"; and it makes this plan depend entirely upon what a man believes, or rather upon what he says that he believes. The whole theory of "salvation," and indeed the idea that there is anything to be "saved" from, seems to be based upon a misunderstanding of a few texts of scripture. In Theosophy we do not believe in the idea of so-called Divine wrath; we think that to attribute to God our own vices of anger and cruelty is a terrible blasphemy. It may often happen that a man gives way to wrath, yet on reflection he knows that he was wrong in doing so; and it seems to us that to believe the eternal and all-loving Father to be guilty of actions which even we realize to be improper is a terrible degradation of the great divine ideal. It seems to be a relic of primitive savagery and fetish-worship – of the idea that the principal powers in nature are evil demons who require propitiation. In Theosophy our reverence for the Deity is far too great to allow us to accept anything so derogatory to His dignity. Instead of this debasing superstition we have the certainty that God is an omnipotent and all-loving Father, and that His will is directed, not towards our condemnation, but towards our evolution. We hold the theory of steady development and final attainment for all; and we think that the man’s progress depends, not upon what he believes, but upon what he does.

And surely there is much in the Christian scriptures which supports this idea. You may perhaps remember the solemn and earnest warning which St. Paul gave to the Galatians, in the sixth chapter of his Epistle to them – a warning which might well have been written specially for the modern theologian, who propounds the amazing injustice of a vicarious atonement: "Be not deceived; God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Again in writing to the Romans he speaks of "the righteous judgment of God, who will render to every man according to his deeds." Not only does the apostle speak thus, but his Master also teaches the same doctrine. You will remember how in the fifth chapter of the gospel according to St. John he states that "they that have done good shall come forth into the resurrection of life’ – not those who have believed some particular doctrine.

Another striking point is to be found in the description which Christ gives of the last judgment in the twenty-fifth chapter of the gospel according to St. Mathew. Since, according to theological teaching, he is himself to be the judge on this occasion, surely his account of the proceedings must be correct, and his explanation of the basis upon which the decisions will be given must be accurate and conclusive. He describes how all nations shall be brought before the king, and how they shall be divided into two great classes, some on the right hand and some on the left hand, and the reasons for the classification are clearly and distinctly given. From the study of modern theology we should expect that the one great question upon the answer to which all would turn must inevitably be "Have you believed in Christ, or in certain doctrines? or "Have you accepted the teachings of the church?"

The orthodox believer must be surprised to note that neither of these questions seems to enter into the matter at all; not one word is asked by Christ as to what these people have believed, or whether they even now believe in anything whatever. The decision is based not upon belief, but upon action – not upon the doctrines which they have held, but upon what they have done. The only question raised is whether they have fed the hungry, have clothed the naked, have helped the stranger and those who were in sick and in trouble – that is to say whether they have done their duty towards their neighbors in a compassionate and charitable spirit. It is perfectly obvious that according to this account of the Day of Judgment – again remember, it is an account given by the judge himself – a Buddhist, a Hindu, a Muhammadan, a so-called heathen of any type whatever, would have just as good a chance of attaining the eternal life of heaven as the most bigoted Christian sectarian. It would almost seem that the modern theologian does not read his bible at all; or rather it would seem that he has his attention so exclusively fixed upon certain texts, and the deductions which he and his predecessors have drawn from them, that he becomes entirely blind to the plain straightforward signification of many other texts of equal importance.

The Inner Teaching

It may be said, however, that at any rate in the present day these doctrines of reincarnation and of perfect justice are not taught in any of the churches; how is that to be accounted for? We reply that this is because Christianity has forgotten much of its own original teaching – because it is now satisfied with only part, and that a very small part, of what it originally knew. It may be argued that at least the Church possesses the original scriptures, and that the teaching derived from these writing should therefore not have varied. As has been shown, the modern teaching appears to be based exclusively upon certain fragments of these scriptures wrested from their context, and so treated as to contradict many other passages. From these few misapplied texts an insecure edifice of unreasonable doctrine is built, and the original teaching of the early Church is to a great extent neglected.

These very scriptures themselves tell us constantly of something more than is written in them – something more than was ever given to the public. It is the fashion in these days to deny that there could ever have been any esoteric teaching in Christianity; indeed its present professors make a boast of the idea that it contains nothing which cannot be comprehended by the meanest intellect, and laid open in its fullness to the most ignorant. If this boast were founded upon fact, it would be a most serious reproach against Christianity; for it would mean that this religion had nothing to offer to the thinking man. Every great religion has always recognized the fact that it had to deal with many different classes of men, and that it was necessary that it should be able to meet them all at their various levels.

A religion has to provide for large numbers of simple and uneducated people, incapable of comprehending a high system of philosophy or metaphysics; consequently it must have a plain and straightforward scheme of ethical teaching, instructing these people how to live, and clearly and strongly putting before them the fact that according to the nature of their lives here and now will be their happiness or their suffering hereafter. But there will be many to whom this alone is far from satisfactory – whose minds will seek for a great scheme in the Universe, who will enquire how man comes to be what he is, and what is the future that lies before him. The answers to all these questions will inevitably involve much that would be entirely incomprehensible to the simple faith of the unlearned; indeed it may well be that much of this higher teaching would tend only to confuse and to mislead the man who was not yet ready for it.

Furthermore, knowledge is always power; and therefore a thorough acquaintance with these higher facts places in the hands of the student the capacity to do much more than the ignorant can do, either for evil or for good. From this again it follows inevitably that circumspection must be used in setting forth in its fullness this higher teaching; and certain guarantees may well be required by the teachers that those who receive it shall use it only for the good of mankind. In every religion of the world there has always been this higher and, to some extent secret teaching; is it to be supposed that Christianity is the only exception to this rule? If it were so, Christianity would stand self-convicted as an imperfect religion; but the truth is that it is not so, for Christianity also has had its mysteries and its inner teachings, and naturally these inner teachings are precisely the same as those of all the other faiths of the world, since all of them are endeavors to state from different points of view the great Truth which lies behind all of them alike.

References to it.

It is true that this secret teaching appears to be now lost, at any rate as far as what are commonly called Protestant sects are concerned. Yet we cannot but see even in the scriptures which remain to us many hints at the existence of this higher knowledge. What is meant, for example, by Christ’s constant references to the Mysteries of the Kingdom of God, by his frequent statements to his disciples that the full and true interpretation could be given only to them, and that to others he must speak in parable? Again, he uses technical terms connected with the well-known Mystery teaching of antiquity; and it is only by some comprehension of that teaching that we are able in many cases to find a reasonable significance for his utterances.

This question as to the existence of an esoteric side in Christianity is not one of sentiment, but of fact; and it is useless for those who do not wish to believe it to clamour against the plain and obvious meaning of the documents of history. The best way to approach this subject is to see first of all what Christ himself said which bears upon it, then to take the evidence in the writings of his immediate successors, the Apostles, and then to see whether the same idea shows itself in the Church Fathers who followed the Apostles. I think that in all these cases an unprejudiced examination will convince the student that the secret teaching did exist, and was well known to all of them. There were originally many more gospels than the four which now remain to us, and even these four have probably passed through many mutilating hands before they settled down into their present form; yet even in them traces still remain which it would be difficult for the most bigoted to deny.

Jesus himself speaks on several occasions with no uncertain voice. For example, in the fourth chapter of the gospel according to St. Mark you will find the statement:-" And when he was alone they that were about him with the twelve asked of him the parable. And he said unto them, ‘Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the Kingdom of God; but unto them that are without all these things are done in parables." And a few verses further down you will find the statement:- "But without a parable spake he not unto them; and when they were alone he explained all things to his disciples." These words are quoted later by Origen as referring to the secret teaching preserved in the church; for it was always held by the Fathers that such statements contained a triple meaning – first of all the obvious surface meaning, generally cast into the form of some sort of story, so that it might be the more easily remembered; secondly, an intellectual interpretation, such as that which is given to the parable of the sower in the chapter from which I have quoted; and thirdly, a deep mystic and spiritual meaning which was never written down under any circumstances, but was explained orally by the teacher under promises of secrecy.

Again you will note how, in the sixteenth chapter of the gospel according to St. John, Christ tell his disciples "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now." Remember that this was said, according to the story, on the night before his death. When then did he say to his disciples the many things which had still to be revealed to them? Obviously it must have been after his resurrection, during the time when we are told that he remained with his disciples "speaking to them of the things pertaining to the Kingdom of God." No record is given to us in the scriptures of any of these teachings; yet it is impossible to suppose that they would be forgotten. Assuredly they must have been handed on as among the most precious of traditions, not in writing but orally, just as the secret teachings in all religions have been handed on. In one of the great Gnostic gospels, the "Pistis Sophia," we are told that he appeared among his disciples, not for forty days only, but for eleven years after his resurrection; and some hint is given as to the nature of the teachings which he imparted, though much of it is so involved and mystical as to be difficult of comprehension without the key of knowledge which comes with initiation.

The Kingdom of Heaven

This very name of "the Kingdom of God’ or "the Kingdom of Heaven" which is used in the passage just quoted is itself a technical term belonging to the Mysteries, indicating the body of those who are initiated into them. Again and again you will find evidence of this if you will look with unprejudiced eye at the passages in which Jesus himself mentions it. For example, in the thirteenth chapter of the gospel according to St. Luke we read that the question is put to the Christ; "Are there few that be saved? And he said unto them, ‘Strive to enter in at the strait gate; for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in and shall not be able." The ordinary uneducated "Protestant" actually dares to apply this statement to the gate of heaven, and wishes us to believe that a great world-Saviour would teach his people that for many men who earnestly seek to be saved from the horrible invention of eternal damnation, there shall yet be no path to safety. If this could be supposed to be true, the statement would be shocking beyond words, for it would show either that the Deity was incapable of managing the affairs of His universe, or else that the whole scheme was in the hands of a mocking and cruel demon. No such atrocity was asserted by the Christ, or could ever have been put forth by him.

The word "saved" – or rather, as it should be written, "safe" – has a technical meaning which when it is understood makes the passage clear and illuminative. To the Theosophical student there will be no difficulty in its perfect comprehension; he knows that in the course of human evolution a period will eventually be reached when a considerable portion of humanity will for a time drop out of our present scheme, simply because they have not yet developed themselves enough to be able to take advantage of the opportunities which will then be opening before mankind, - because under the conditions then prevailing no incarnations of a sufficient unadvanced type to suit them will be available. The men who thus fall out of the current of progress for the time will presently take up the work again along with another human evolution, and so will have an opportunity of going over again the different stages of the development of which they have failed fully to avail themselves on this occasion. This is in reality a most merciful provision of nature to help along those who for various reasons are backward in their studies in the school of life; and though they lose the place that they have held in this particular evolution, it is only because the evolution has passed beyond them, and it would have been a mere waste of time for them to attempt to stay in it any longer. The man to whom this happens is in the position of a child at school who is hopelessly behind his classmates. To continue to work with them would mean only strain and fatigue and waste of time for him; while to leave that class and to work with the one next below it will not only be easier for him, but will enable him by further practice to learn thoroughly those lessons which so far he has been unable to master.

The ordinary man is by no means as yet above the level at which it might be possible for him thus to have to drop out; but the pupil who has taken the first great initiation –"who has entered upon the stream," as is said in the East – is safe from any danger of such delay; and so he is often spoken of as "the saved," or "the elect." It is in this sense, and this sense only, that we are to understand the use of the world "saved," either here or elsewhere in the scriptures and in the creeds; and when we comprehend this, we shall at once see the force and truth of the remark of the Christ that the gate of initiation is strait and difficult of entry and that there will be many who will strive to reach it for a long time before they are able to attain it.

The Road that leads to Life.

Another passage which confirms this is to be found in the seventh chapter of the gospel according to St. Mathew, in which Christ once more advises his disciples, "Enter ye in at the strait gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat; because strait is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." Here again the occult student has no difficulty in recognizing a familiar imagery. He knows well how narrow and difficult is the way which leads to that "eternal life" which means the avoidance of the necessity of birth and death – that is to say, of the descent into incarnation. He knows too how broad and comparatively easy is the slow line of progress adopted by the ordinary man which leads him to death and to birth many thousands of times before it conducts him to a permanent residence upon higher levels. It is indeed true that "many there be who walk" in this longer but smoother road; and there are at present but few among humanity who find the shorter but steeper path of initiation. Read in this, its obvious sense, the statement is true and comprehensible; but if we are to take it in the sense that the "strait gate" leads to heaven, and that only few are able to enter there, it is not only a barbarous misrepresentation of the facts, but it is in flat contradiction to other texts in which the heaven-world is clearly intended.

When the biblical scribe is really attempting to picture the heaven-world we find that he speaks of "a great multitude which no man could number, of all nations and kindreds and peoples and tongues, who stood before the throne and before the Lamb clothed with white robes and with palms in their hands." Initiated writers have always known the grand truth that there is no possibility of final destruction, but the certainty of eventual success for all, because that is God’s will for them. In this sense, as referring to their ultimate destiny, there is no feeble hope that a few may be saved, but the magnificent certainty that none can by any possibility be lost.

It is indeed difficult to understand how modern orthodoxy can speak of Christ as the Saviour of the world, and yet in the same breath assert that he does not save it, that he does not succeed in save one in ten thousand of its inhabitants, and has to yield all the rest to the devil! Would such a proportion be considered successful if we were speaking of any kind of human effort? Such a doctrine is in reality blasphemy, and every honest Christian should at once cast it out from his stock of religious ideas. We bring a grander gospel, and we preach a nobler creed than that.

Truly Christ is the Saviour of the world, for each man is saved by the Christ within himself – that Christ in us which is indeed the hope of glory, as the scriptures have said, for without that Divine spark within us how could it ever be possible for us to reunite ourselves with the Divine? Therefore we know that every man will one day realize his own divinity, and so will rise to "the treasure of the stature of the fullness of Christ"; we know that this evolution will succeed and not fail – that it will be a grand and glorious success, and that every soul in it shall eventually attain its goal.

The Difficulties of the Rich

Yet another instance in which only this explanation can make the biblical story rational is to be found in the nineteenth chapter of the gospel according to St. Mathew. It will be remembered that on a certain occasion a young man came to Christ and asked him how he might win eternal life – meaning of course, as I have said before, the liberation from the necessity of repeated birth and death. Christ meets him with the usual reply, which would have been given by any of the great teachers: "Keep the commandments." But the young man proceeds to explain that he has already kept all these exoteric commandments all his life, and wishes to know what more he can do to expedite his progress. Christ in his answer to him employs one of the well-known technical terms of the Essene community in which he himself had been trained, for he says to him, "If thou wilt be perfect, sell all that thou hast and give to the poor, and come and follow me." To be "perfect" means to attain a certain level of initiation, to belong to a certain class within that kingdom of heaven; and the remark of the Christ simply repeats the universal teaching of the Eastern sages, that poverty and obedience are necessary for those who would enter among the ranks of the higher initiates.

The young man finds a difficulty here, not yet feeling prepared to give up his worldly possessions, and then the Christ proceeds to moralize upon the difficulty which stands in the way of the rich man when he attempts to enter upon the higher stages of this path. He even uses an exceedingly strong simile, "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of God." If this be taken as it is ordinarily explained by theology it is indeed a most ridiculous statement, for it seems to imply that no man who is rich can be good, or can ever attain to a place in heaven. The orthodox profess to understand it in this sense, and yet it seems that even they must see how ridiculous is the supposition; for we do not observe that the vast majority of them make haste to get rid of riches and become poor in order to qualify for this entry into heaven. But when we understand that the Kingdom of Heaven means the brotherhood of the initiated, we instantly comprehend that the inevitable preoccupation and trouble connected with the due administration of great wealth is a serious obstacle in the way of the candidate for the shorter and steeper path, and we realize fully then the wisdom of the advice given by the great teacher, "Sell all that thou hast and give to the poor, and come and follow me."

Another passage indicating the same knowledge of technical terms on the part of the Christ occurs in the seventh chapter of the gospel according to St. Matthew where he utters that remarkable verse, "Give not that which is holy to the dogs; neither cast ye your pearls before swine." In the present day we would consider such epithets when applied to human beings as rude and improper; but it must be remembered once more that these were simply technical terms indicating those who stood outside or beneath a certain level. The ordinary theologian must find considerable difficulty in explaining to himself the use of such language by the Christ; but when we understand the real nature of these terms the words become at once explicable.

St. Paul the Initiate.

When we turn from the words of Jesus himself to those of St. Paul we shall find that his writings also are permeated with occult teaching, with references to the Mysteries which lie behind the outer teaching, and with the technical terms which are well known in connection with them. Any one who will take the trouble to read the second and third chapters of the First Epistle to the Corinthians will see clearly that this is so when once his attention has been drawn to the real interpretation of the words. Once more he refers to the degree of perfection, and to the instruction which can be given only to those who have attained that degree; he says: "We speak wisdom among them that are perfect." And again, "We speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, the hidden wisdom which God ordained before the world began, which none of the princes of this world know." This last statement itself should be enough to prove to any fair-minded student the existence of the inner teaching of the Church, since it would be obviously and flagrantly false if it were made of any of the ordinary Christian doctrine such as appears in the scriptures; for that was undoubtedly within the reach of the princes of this world then just as now. Sometimes people have tried to refer these remarks as to mysteries to the holy communion, which was celebrated only in the presence of those who were members of the church. Yet it is evident that that could not be the meaning in this case, because further examination of this same epistle will show that the Corinthians to whom St. Paul was writing were already full members of the church and were in the habit of celebrating the Eucharist. Yet in spite of this he speaks to them as babes in Christ, and says that he can give them only the milk of the earlier teaching. Obviously, therefore, this mystery unknown to all was not the celebration of the holy communion. Indeed, much of the language which the apostle himself uses could scarcely be applied in this sense, for he speaks again and again of "The deep things of God, which the Holy Ghost teaches; the hidden wisdom, and the wisdom of God in a mystery." Many other technical terms he employs, as, for example, when he speaks of himself as a master-builder and a steward of the mysteries of God.

Another passage which shows this is to be found in the third chapter of his epistle to the Phillippians, in which he describes himself as "striving if by any means he might attain unto the resurrection of the dead." What can this resurrection have been to which he, the great apostle, found it necessary to strive in order that he might attain? Clearly it could not be what is ordinarily understood by that term, for the rising again from the dead at the last day is to happen to all people, good and bad alike; there could be no necessity to make any effort in order to gain that. What he is striving to attain is undoubtedly that initiation to which we have already referred – the initiation which liberates a man from life and death alike, which raises him above the necessity of further incarnation upon earth. We shall notice that a few verses later on he urges "as many as be perfect" to strive as he is striving; he does not give this advice to the ordinary member of the church, because he knows that for him this is not yet possible.

Many other quotations bearing a similar interpretation might be given from the writings of St.Paul; but let us pass on now to those who are called the Fathers of the Church – the writers who immediately followed the apostolic period. We shall find that they know well what St. Paul meant when he spoke so frequently of the Mysteries, for they themselves often use exactly the same terms in referring to them. For example, one of the earliest and greatest of them, St. Clement of Alexandria, borrows verbatim from a Neo-Pythagorean document a whole sentence to the effect that "It is not lawful to reveal to profane persons the Mysteries of the Word." This last term is the translation of the Greek "Logos," and in this sentence he inserts that word in the place of the Eleusinian goddesses who are mentioned in the original document.

The Three Stages of the Church

In these days the church considers it her highest glory that she has produced the saint, and she points to the roll of her saints as a proof of the truth and the result of her teaching. Yet in these early days this, which now seems the final goal of her effort, was only an introduction to it. Then she had three great order or degrees, through which her children had to pass; and these were called respectively Purification, Illumination, and Perfection. Now she devotes herself solely to producing good men, and she points to the saint as her crowning glory and achievement; but in those days when she had made a man a saint her work with him was only just beginning, for then only was he fitted for the training and the teaching which she could give him then, but cannot now, because she has forgotten her ancient knowledge. Her Purification led the man to saintship; her Illumination then gave him the knowledge which was taught in the Mysteries, and this led him up towards the condition of Perfection and of unity with the Divine. Now she contents herself with the preliminary Purification, and has no Illumination to give.

St. Clement of Alexandria

Read what St. Clement says on this subject, as quoted in The Christian Platonists of Alexandria by Dr. C. Bigg, p.62. "Purity is only a negative state, valuable chiefly as the condition of insight. He who has been purified in baptism and then initiated into the little Mysteries (has acquired, that is to say, the habits of self-control and reflection), becomes ripe for the greater Mysteries, for Epopteia or Gnosis, the scientific knowledge of God." This latter is a startling claim to make from the modern orthodox point of view; I imagine that few preachers at the present day would claim to have the scientific knowledge of God, or even to know in the least what such an expression meant. Yet there it stands in the writing of one of the earliest and greatest of the Church Fathers. We have only to examine the Theosophical teaching to see exactly what he meant, to understand (so far as the intellect of man can at present understand) what is meant by the doctrine of the Trinity, of the incarnation of Christ, and his dwelling within the heart of man. The scientific knowledge of God is still within the reach of the earnest and reverent student; it is no mere form of words, but a glowing and definite fact.

How highly St. Clement valued this transcendent knowledge may be seen by another quotation from his writing given in Christian Mysticism, by W. R. Inge, page 86. "Knowledge, " says Clement, "is more than faith, Faith is a summary knowledge of urgent truths, suitable for people who are in a hurry; but knowledge is scientific faith. If the Gnostic (the philosophical Christian) had to choose between the knowledge of God and eternal salvation, and it were possible to separate two things so inseparably connected, he would choose without the slightest hesitation the knowledge of God." That surely is a sufficiently clear statement. Evidently St. Clement thought that faith was only for those who had not time to go into the study of the definite science themselves; they had to be content with accepting its magnificent truths on faith, just as is the case with ourselves with regard to any of the physical-plane sciences of the present day. If each man had a life of leisure, no doubt he could take up chemistry or astronomy and study it at first-hand for himself; if he has no time to do this, he thankfully accepts the conclusions at which those arrive who have studied it. When we come to this great science of life which is called religion, such acceptance of the result of the investigation of others is spoken of as faith; but assuredly, as St. Clement says, direct knowledge is infinitely better.

The idea that man is capable of attaining this perfection, or deification as it is often called in the writings of the Fathers, would probably be considered sacrilegious by many of our modern theological writers, yet it was clearly held by the early Fathers, and they knew its attainment to be a possibility. Professor Harnack remarks that "deification was the idea of salvation taught in the Mysteries"; and again "after Theophilus, Irenaeus, Hippolytus, and Origen, the idea of deification is found in all the Fathers of the ancient church, and that in a primary position. We have it in Athanasius, the Cappadocians, Apollinarius, Ephraem Syrus, Epiphanius, and others, as also in Cyril, Sophronius, and later Greek and Russian theologians."

What Origen Says

The most celebrated pupil of St. Clement was the far-famed Origen – perhaps the most brilliant and learned of all the Ecclesiastical Fathers. He also asserts the existence of the secret teaching of the Church, for in his celebrated controversy with Celsus he states definitely that the system of exoteric and esoteric teaching which was in general use among philosophers was also adopted in Christianity. He also speaks plainly with regard to the difference between the ignorant faith of the undeveloped multitude and the higher and reasonable faith which is founded upon definite knowledge. He draws a distinction between "the popular irrational faith" which leads to what he calls "somatic Christianity" (that is to say, the merely physical form of the religion) and the "spiritual Christianity" offered by the Gnosis or wisdom. He makes perfectly clear that by "somatic Christianity" he means that faith which is based on the gospel history. Of a teaching founded upon this historical narrative he says "what better method could be devised to assist the masses?" In Mr. Inge’s book mentioned above (p.89) he is quoted as teaching that "the Gnostic or sage no longer needs the crucified Christ. The eternal or spiritual gospel which is his possession shows clearly all things concerning the Son of God himself, both the Mysteries shown by his words and the things of which his acts were the symbols. It is not that Origen denies or doubts the truth of the gospel history, but he feels that events which happened only once can be of no importance, and regards the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus as only one manifestation of a universal law, which was really enacted, not in this fleeting world of shadows, but in the eternal counsels of the Most High. He considers that those who are thoroughly convinced of the universal truths revealed by the incarnation and the atonement need trouble themselves no more about their particular manifestations in time."

Here then we see distinct and repeated references to the hidden teaching, greater far than anything known to the Church of the present day, and carrying those who study it to a much higher level than is ever now attained by the disciples of orthodoxy. What has become of this magnificent heritage of Christianity? Why was this wonderful wisdom lost, and how can it be regained? Happily it has not been lost. The great Gnostic doctors, who taught it so poetically, were cast out of the church as heretics by the vote of the ignorant majority, who would not include within their scheme of religion anything which was beyond their comprehension, anything which took years of trouble and study to learn. Yet something of the Gnostic teaching has been preserved; the orthodox endeavoured with pious fury to destroy all traces of it, yet here and there a book has been discovered – kept perhaps until these later days among those who are commonly called savages, and yet have proved less savage than the orthodox defenders of the faith.

In that way we are slowly coming to know something of those splendid teachings, and we find them, as the occult student would naturally expect, to be precisely the same truths which Theosophy is now placing once more before the Western world. Those who are interested in the study of this particular side of the doctrine of the wisdom-religion cannot approach it better than through the writings of Mr. G.R.S. Mead of London, the most Scholarly of our Theosophical authors. He has spent many years in a careful study of the strange medley of faiths and opinions which gather round the cradle of Christendom, and his writings show us clearly how this Christian religion arose quite naturally and logically out of the faiths of the period just proceeding its birth. He makes it abundantly evident that this is not a revelation from on high, no new statement of additional fact, but simply a perfectly natural result of what has gone before it. Any one wishing to understand what Christianity really is, what its teaching truly mean, and what is its part in the great life of the world, cannot do better than commence by a thoughtful study of Mr. Mead’s works.

Theosophy Explains

Meantime it needs not even so much study as is involved in that enquiry to convince any open-minded person that Theosophy holds the solution to all the problems connected with the Christian doctrine. Take, for example, the great dogma of the Trinity, which as originally stated seems so incomprehensible and meaningless. Invoke the aid of a Theosophical diagram such as that which is given in the last edition of my own little book upon The Christian Creed, and at once the obscurity will be lit up as by sunlight, and it will be seen that the strange and apparently incomprehensible statements have an obvious meaning which is full of interest and vividly clear. Read, for example, the Athanasian Creed; by the light of the Theosophical diagrams its sentences, hitherto so little comprehended, will be seen to be luminous and crystal clear; so that the very formula which has been cast aside by multitudes as hopelessly unintelligible now stands forth as perhaps the strongest and grandest statement as to the nature and the power of God that has ever been put into words. The so-called damnatory clauses, to which so much exception has been taken, fall into their places and are at once seen to be free from all objection, when once their real meaning has been understood.

There is no other way of rendering a great deal of this older teaching intelligible at all; unless we are prepared to accept the Theosophical explanation of them, we must resign all hope of finding any rational meaning at the back of these great symbols of one of the world faiths. But the Theosophical teaching introduces order into the chaos; it at once enables us to sift out these dogmas which are expressions of universal truth from the accretions with which the uncomprehending theology of the ignorant monks has surrounded them. The same thing is true with many of the other dogmas of the church; not only is the mighty doctrine of the Trinity made clear, but salvation, conversion, regeneration, sanctification – all these are explained, and from the Theosophical standpoint they are no longer mere names with a vague mist of uncertainty surrounding them, but definite and real facts, which are all parts of a coherent system. To understand these the student should read Mrs. Besant’s great book Esoteric Christianity, which will throw a flood of light for him upon much that has been dark before. Best of all, it will show him that Christianity in no way contradicts the other great faiths of the world – that they are all alike efforts to state the same great truth, the truth that lies behind them all – this Divine Wisdom which in modern days we call Theosophy.

To the earnest Christian who has in some way or other been aroused into thinking about the doctrines of the Church, and has therefore naturally been led into doubting them in the form in which they are generally presented, we would strongly recommend the study of the teachings of Theosophy. Many a man who begins to doubt finds himself left without definite basis for any belief, and knows not where to turn for comfort and enlightenment. To such an one our advice would be: "Do not cast aside your religion, but rather try to learn what it really is. Then will be given back to you all that was bright and beautiful and true in the faith of your childhood, but it will be given back to you on a different basis. It will no longer be founded upon authority, whether it be of a book or of a Church; for such belief is always liable to be overthrown if you should find that the book or the Church is not as historically reliable as you had been led to suppose. You will receive back your faith, but founded this time upon the impregnable rock of reason and common-sense, so that the more fully you examine it, the more you will become convinced of its truth and the more you will understand its glory."

The Gospel of Theosophy

In saying this we are speaking not from theory but from experience. To us who have studied Theosophy it has brought all this and more. It has been to us a veritable gospel of good news from on high, which has shown us light where before was darkness, which has made life easier to bear and death easier to face; which has given us, not hope only, but the glorious certainty of future progress. It is for that reason that we put it before you, for that reason that we urge your examination of it. We have no wish to make converts in the ordinary sense of the word. We are not impelled, as is the poor ignorant missionary, by any theory that, unless we can induce our hearers or readers to believe as we do, there will be for them no way of salvation from the horrors of eternal suffering. We know that every one will attain the final goal of humanity, whether he now believes what we tell him or whether he does not. We know that the progress of every man is certain; but he may make his road easy or he may make it difficult. If he goes on in ignorance he is likely to find it hard and painful; if he learns the truth about life and death, about God and man, and the relation between them, he will understand how to travel so as to make the path easy for himself and also (which is much more important) to be able to lend a helping hand to his fellow-travellers who know less than he. This is what you all may do, and what we hope you will do. We who are Theosophists ask no blind faith from you; we simply put this philosophy before you, and ask you to study it, and we believe that if you do so you will find what we have found – rest and peace and help, and the power to be of use in the world. Above all things we would say to you, not only study the Theosophical truth, but try to live the life which Theosophy recommends to you. Now as in the days of old it still remains true that those who do the will of the Father who is in Heaven, they shall know of the doctrine whether it be true; and so to those who doubt our teaching we would say take it up provisionally, take it as a hypothesis, but live the life which it directs, and then you will see for yourselves whether you are the better or the worse for it. Try to realize the unity of the brotherhood which it teaches, and to show the unselfishness which it exacts; and then see for yourself whether this is an improvement upon other modes of living or not. Try the unselfishness and the watchful helpfulness, and see whether here is not an opening into new fields of happiness and usefulness.

We who are studying this know that as yet we are only at the beginning of it; yet we say to you with the utmost confidence: "Come and join us in our study, and to you also will come the peace and the confidence that has come to us, so that through your knowledge of Theosophy your lives will become purer and brighter, and above all things more useful and helpful to your fellowman."

CHAPTER III: THE ANCIENT MYSTERIES

Every nation, every race, every religion has always had its mysteries. But the sense in which we use that word today hardly conveys a fair idea of what it meant in the older time, to which we wish to turn our thoughts this evening. Its true signification is simply that which is hidden; but when we hear of it in connection with religious matters it seems to suggest to us a good deal more than that. We have been brought up along a certain line of religious belief, one of the professions of which is that all of its doctrines lie open to the comprehension of the dullest mind. If this claim were really true, it would be a confession of failure on the part of that religion, for it would mean that it had no teaching to give to the thinking man; but it is not in the least true of primitive Christianity, as I showed in my lecture upon that subject. That had its inner teaching, as is true of every great doctrine, so that it may be useful to all classes of humanity, and not only to one. But the mistaken idea which has been so sedulously impressed upon us leads us to feel a certain distrust for the wiser faiths which meet all needs, and to think of them as unnecessarily hiding part of the truth, or grudging it to the world. In the old days there was no such thought as this; it was recognized that only those who came up to a certain standard of life were fit to receive the higher instruction, and those who wished for it set to work to qualify themselves for it. Now there is a tendency to demand all knowledge without making any effort toward this necessary preparation, and to grumble that it is churlishly held back, because the Great Ones in their wisdom foresee the dangers of placing certain truths before the minds of those who are not ready to grasp them. Knowledge is power, and people must prove their fitness before they will be entrusted with power, for the object of the whole scheme is human evolution, and the interests of evolution would not be served by promiscuous publication of occult truth.

It is generally recognized that it would be foolish to put dynamite into the hands of a child at play, and we have ample evidence around us that such fragments of occult truth as have been allowed to become public have been terribly misused. The fact of the power of thought and will and the possibility of mesmeric influence is now finding wider acceptance, and the immediate result is that we see shoals of advertisements offering, always of course for a consideration, to teach us how to succeed in business by exercising undue pressure of this sort upon our fellowmen, in order that we may gain at their expense. The undeveloped man always misunderstands and misuse the least fragment of higher knowledge. To one who comprehends, there is the greatest solace and the most powerful incentive to right living in the profound truth of our unity with the Divine; yet that very truth has been offered as an excuse for the grossest sensuality by the unevolved among the Vedantins. The history of the great empire of Atlantis is the most impressive of warnings as to the awful consequences of the misapplication of occult knowledge.

The Mysteries of Eleusis

So the existence of the secret teaching is more than justified, and its presence in all the world-religions is explained. But though it may be traced in all, when we speak of the Mysteries our thoughts turn to one or two only – chiefly to the Mysteries of Bacchus and Eleusis in connection with the religion of ancient Greece, and in a lesser degree to those of still more ancient Egypt and Chaldaea. The literature of the subject is scanty, and but little information is to be derived from it. Thomas Taylor’s account is perhaps the best, though even in it there is much inaccuracy. Still, there is also a great deal of intuition displayed in his book – so much that it is difficult not to suppose that he may himself have been directly associated with the schools of the Mysteries in some past incarnation. Iamblichus, himself an initiate, has written upon the subject, but he gives even less information than Taylor – probably because he was more closely bound by promises of secrecy. A French author of the name of Foucart has also recently written on the subject. A chapter in Mr. Mead’s book Orpheus epitomizes all that is known to scholars – a chapter which should be read by every one is interested in this side of the ancient life. Such information as I have to put before you is obtained in a different manner – not by studying the literary fragments which remain unto us, but rather by investigation and by memory. I have before had occasion to mention that certain members of our Society have been engaged in patient examination into the record of past incarnations, in order to study the laws under which rebirth takes place, and the way in which the actions of one life produce their inevitable results in the next. In the course of this research it was found that several of these members had been concerned in these Mysteries, and had been regularly initiated into their studies. Of course such initiations must in no way be confounded with those which separate the Steps of the Path of Holiness, for these latter lie at a much higher level, and all the mysteries were only a preparation for them. Nevertheless, there were definite degrees in the Mysteries, and the man who entered pledged himself to remain silent as to what he saw. Now such a promise remains binding, even though it may have been made two thousand years ago; but those to whom it was given may release the disciple from his vow, and with regard to certain parts of the teaching this has been done. The reason is that the world has now evolved somewhat, and so a further experiment is being made; and much that used to be taught only under pledges of initiation is now published to the world in the Theosophical literature. Much of this information used to be regarded as secret and sacred; and today, though it is no longer secret, it is as sacred as ever. So that though I may not tell you all that the ancient Mysteries of Eleusis offered to the student, I may yet give you an outline of a great deal of it.

The first point which I wish to emphasize is that the charge of indecency so frequently brought against these Mysteries by their enemies had no foundation in fact – at least so far as the flourishing period of the race is concerned. It should never be forgotten that much of our so-called information about the Mysteries comes to us through the unscrupulous and bitterly hostile early Christian writers; and though these writers indignantly deny the suggestion that in their Church they have no mysteries worthy of the name, and claim that theirs are in every way as good and deep and far-reaching as those of their "pagan" opponents, they nevertheless bring the wildest and most abominable accusations against the mortality of those who participate in other rites than theirs.

The Methods of the Monk

Perhaps we hardly realize how entirely we have only one side of all those early controversies, and how absolutely we are in the hands of bitter, unscrupulous sectarians. We had in Europe a dark period, lasting for many centuries, when the savagery of Christianity had stamped out all knowledge, all learning, and almost all art; a period during which no one could even read or write except the priest and monks, so that whatever we have of records of early times, whatever we have of classical literature, comes to us of necessity through their hands, since they alone were able to make the manuscript copies. In these days of universal printing, and of the wide effusion of knowledge, we have little idea of what that meant – of what a power it placed in the hands of these mediaeval monks. A few older manuscripts may be here and there discovered, but the vast majority of all that literature of the ancient times passed through the censorship of the Church at its most bigoted stage.

Another thing that we must realize is that these monks had no conception of what we now mean by literary morality. They were all quite ready to quote to any extent without acknowledgement; they did not see any reason why they should not use good material wherever they found it, and they mentioned whence it was obtained only if they thought that the name of the writer would add to the force of the argument. Often also when they had what they thought a good thing to say, they fathered it on some well-known name in order to secure for it greater attention. In quoting controversially from opponents, they made no attempt to treat the enemy fairly, or to state his case impartially; we know from their own confessions that they cited only what suited their argument of the moment , utilized that of which they thought something edifying could be made, and utterly ignored the rest. Thus we have only most partial accounts of the real opinions of their opponents, and we get about as fair an idea of what they really held or taught, as we should have of Roman Catholic theology if we took the word of the most rabid Protestant as our only guide to its comprehension.

With regard to this matter of the Mysteries we know that there was specially bitter controversy, and the Christian writers never hesitated to take up any weapon which they thought would gain them a point. If there was a popular slander, they eagerly seized upon it and magnified it – perhaps even in their prejudice they really believed it; and in that way they accept and repeat those unfounded charges of indecency against the celebration of the Mysteries. Sometimes in their replies we incidentally gather what popular opinion said of them, and then we begin to see about how much reliance is to be placed on such stories. Rumour held the Christian Church as guilty of the most abominable outrages – the commonest accusation being that at their secret meetings they offered human sacrifices and indulged in cannibalism. The statement that they murdered and devoured children recurs again and again; and it is not difficult to see how it may have arisen. They celebrated their Eucharist with closed doors, and spoke of it as meeting together to partake of the body and blood of the Son of Man; and one can easily see how that statement might be misconstrued by the ignorant, and how unworthy of the attention of the historian are the mere rumours on either side in a theological quarrel!

There is no doubt that in the long period during which the Mysteries flourished the most strenuous discipline was exacted from all candidates, and the utmost purity preserved; but it is probable that in the days of the decadence both of Greece and Rome even the Mysteries shared to some extent in the general degradation, just as, it will be remembered, did the Christian agapae also, which degenerated into the wildest and most reprehensible orgies. The Bacchic Mysteries came to be mere festivities towards the last, when Bacchus or Dionysos was regarded as the god of wine, instead of being recognized as the manifestation of the Logos, from whom came forth all life and strength. The life and strength were indeed sometimes symbolized as wine, or rather as the juice of the grape, and in this way the popular misconception arose. But this was only towards the end of the Empire, when all the true Mysteries had already been withdrawn into the background, and little but the outer shell remained. We must not judge them from their relics at that period, any more than we should judge the great Roman nation by its condition when it had fallen hopelessly into decay. Let us rather see what they were at the zenith of their glory and usefulness.

What the Mysteries Were

As is generally known, there were two divisions, the Greater and the Lesser Mysteries. What is not generally known is that there was always, behind and above these, the true Mystery of the Path, towards which these others led. Occult teaching has always been open for those who were ready to enter; the qualifications exacted have never varied, for they are not arbitrarily imposed, but are essentially necessary to advancement. At the present time the Path and some of its stages, and the qualifications required, are openly described in books and lectures, just as they were long ago in Indian literature; but in Greece and Rome no definite information seems to have been given on these points, and the very existence of the possibility of that advancement was not certainly known even to the initiates of the Greater Mysteries until they were actually fit to receive the mystic summons from within.

But to the Mysteries of which we are speaking large numbers were admitted; indeed, one classical author mentions a gathering of thirty thousand initiates, which, when we consider how small relatively was the population of Greece, shows us that the organization of the Mysteries was by no means so exclusive as we usually suppose. Indeed, our investigations indicate that all seriously disposed and thinking people naturally gravitated towards them as the centre of religious knowledge. Men sometimes wonder how it was possible for great nations like Rome or Greece to remain satisfied with what we commonly call their religion – a chaos of unseemly myths, many of them not even decent, describing so-called gods and goddesses who were distinctly human in their actions and passions, and constantly quarrelling amongst themselves. The truth is that nobody was satisfied with it, and that it never was at all what we mean by a religion, though it was no doubt taken literally by many ignorant people. But all the cultured and thinking men took up the study of one or other of the systems of philosophy, and in many cases they were also initiates of the School of the Mysteries; and it was this higher teaching that really moulded their lives, and took for them the place of what we call religion – unless, indeed, they were frankly agnostic, as are so many cultured men now.

Moreover, it was through the teaching of the Mysteries that men learnt for the first time what the strange myths of the exoteric religion really meant – for originally they had a meaning, and for the Theosophical student it often lies near the surface. In my books on The Other Side of Death I have explained the signification given in the Mysteries to the stories of Tantalus and Sisythus; the myth of Tityus also is obviously symbolical of the result of certain passions in the astral world; while the legend of Persephone or Proserpine is clearly an occult parable of the descent of the soul into matter. Remember how the story tells us that Prosperine was carried away while she was plucking the flower of the narcissus, and at once you have a suggestion of a connection with that other myth. Narcissus is represented to have been a young man of extraordinary beauty who fell in love with his own reflection in a pool of water, and was so attracted by it that he fell in and was drowned, and was afterwards changed by the gods into a beautiful flower. One sees instantly that such a story as this can have no meaning but a symbolical one, and by the light of the philosophical doctrine of the aeons it is one not difficult to interpret. All the cognate systems of thought teach that the soul was not originally immersed in matter, and need not have been so, but for the fact that she was attracted by the image of herself in the lower conditions of matter, so often symbolized by water. Beguiled by this reflection, she identifies herself with the lower personality, and is for the time sunk altogether in matter; yet nevertheless the divine seed remains, and presently she springs up again as a flower. Now realize that it was while Proserpine was stooping to Narcissus that she was seized and carried off by Desire, who is the king of this lower world; and that although she was rescued from complete captivity by the efforts of her mother, yet after that she had to spend her life half in the lower world and half in that above – that is to say, partly in incarnation and partly out of it.

The Lesser Mysteries

This is an example of the way in which these odd and apparently pointless fables were taken up in the Mystery instructions and made luminous and beautiful. The explanations in connection with the astral life were given chiefly in the Lesser Mysteries, which were especially concerned with this side of the subject. The centre of their worship and work was at Agrae, and those who were initiated into them were called Mystae, and wore as their mystical dress a dappled fawn-skin, symbolizing the astral body. The appropriateness of this emblem will be immediately recognized by any clairvoyant, or by a Theosophical student who has examined the plates of my book Man, Visible and Invisible, for he will remember the bands and mottlings which indicate the various passions and emotions, and the rapid flashing changes which are so conspicuous in it. The same idea is expressed by the leopard-skin worn by the Egyptian initiated priest while offering his sacrifice, and the tiger or antelope-skin so often used by Eastern Yogis.

Broadly speaking, the Lesser Mysteries were principally concerned with the astral world, and the Greater Mysteries with the heaven-world. They taught much more than this, of course, but the first and most prominent fact of their instruction was that certain results flowed inevitably from certain actions, and so that the life which a man lived on the physical plane was chiefly important as a preparation for that which it brought in its train. The Lesser Mysteries taught vividly the astral part of these results, illustrating it by showing the most striking object lessons from real life. In the earlier days when the hierophant directing the studies described the effect of some particular vice or crime, he used his occult power to materialize some good example of the fate which his words portrayed – in some cases, it is stated, enabling the sufferer to speak and explain the condition in which he found himself as the outcome of a neglect while on earth of the eternal laws under which the worlds are governed. Sometimes, instead of this, a vivid image of the state of some victim of his own folly would be materialized for the instruction of the neophytes.

In the days of the decadence there remained no hierophant who possessed the power to produce these occult illustrations, and consequently their place was taken by actors dressed to represent the sufferers, or in some cases by ghostly images projected by means of concave mirrors – or even by cleverly executed statuary or mechanical figures. Of course it was perfectly understood by all concerned that these were only representations, and no one was ever deceived into supposing that they were original cases. Some of our ecclesiastical writers, however, failed to realize this, and some of them have spent much time and ingenuity in "exposing" deceptions which never have deceived any one, least of all those who were especially concerned with them. A gentleman named Hippolytus, who seems to have been the Maskelyne and Cook of this period, is especially zealous along these lines, and his accounts of apparatus whereby lights might be mysteriously produced, and his suggestions as to the use of invisible ink, are really quite amusing reading.

We may take it, then, that the principal work of the teachers of the Lesser Mysteries was to inform their pupils thoroughly of the exact result in astral life of physical thought and action. Besides this, however, much instruction was given in cosmogony, and the evolution of man on this earth was fully explained, again with the aid of illustrative scenes and figures, produced at first by materialization, but later imitated in various ways. The directors seem always to have recognized two classes among their pupils, and to have chosen out from them those whom they thought capable of special training in the development of psychic faculties. These received special instruction as to how the astral body can be used as a vehicle, and had definite exercises set for their practice, to develope them in clairvoyance or prevision.

The initiates had a number of proverbs or aphorisms peculiar to themselves, some of which were very characteristic and Theosophical in tone. "Death is life, and life is death," is a saying which will need to interpretation for the student of Theosophy, who comprehends, at least to some extent, how infinitely more real and vivid is life on any other plane than this imprisonment in the flesh. Whosoever pursues realities during life will pursue them after death; whosoever pursues unrealities during this life will pursue them also after death," is also a statement entirely in line with the facts as to post-mortem conditions with which Theosophy so fully acquaints us, and it emphasizes the great truth upon which we so often find it necessary to insist, that death in no way changes the real man, but that his disposition and his mode of thought remain exactly what they were before.

The Greater Mysteries

Turning to the Greater Mysteries, we find that the centre of their celebration was at Eleusis, near Athens. Their initiates were named Epoptai, and their ceremonial garment was no longer a fawn-skin, but a golden fleece – whence, naturally, the whole myth of Jason and his companions. This symbolized the mental body, and the power definitely to function in it. Those who have seen the splendid radiance of all which pertains to that mental plane, who have noticed the innumerable vortices produced by the ceaseless emission and impact of thought-forms, who remember that brilliant yellow is especially the colour which manifests intellectual activity, will acknowledge that this was no inapt representation. In this class, as in the lower one, there were two types – those who could be taught to use the mental body, and to form round it the strong temporary vehicle of astral matter which has sometimes been called the mayavirupa, and the far greater majority who were not yet prepared for this development, but could nevertheless be instructed with regard to the mental plane and the powers and faculties appropriate to it. As in the Lesser Mysteries men learnt the exact result after death of certain actions and modes of life on the physical plane, so in the Greater Mysteries they learnt how causes generated in this lower existence worked out in the heaven-world. In the Lesser the necessity and the method of the control of the desires, passions and emotions was made clear; in the Greater the same teaching was given with regard to the control of mind.

The other side of the Theosophical teaching, that of cosmogenesis and anthropogenesis, was also continued here, and carried to a much greater length. Instead of being instructed only as to the broad outlines of evolution by reincarnation, and the previous races through which man has risen in this world, the initiates now received a description of the whole scheme as we have it now, including the seven great chains and their relation to the solar system as a whole. Their terms were different from ours, but the instruction was in essence the same; where we speak of successive life-waves and outpourings, they spoke of aeons and emanations, but there is no doubt that they were fully in touch with the facts, and that they represented them to their pupils in wonderful visions of cosmic processes and their terrestrial analogies. Just as in the case of the after-death states, their representations were at first produced by occult methods; and later, when these failed them, by mechanical and pictorial means, the results of which were greatly inferior. Illustrations of germ development shown by picture or model, in the same way as we might show some of them by means of a microscope, were employed to teach by the law of correspondences the truth of cosmic evolution. It may possibly be that a misunderstanding of the theatrical representation of some of these processes of reproduction was distorted into an idea of indecency, and so the seed was sown from which sprang later the false and foolish accusations of the ignorant and bigoted Christians.

Some have wondered why so much trouble should be taken to explain complicated processes of past evolution, which after all have no obvious bearing on practical life. One can only say in reply that it is important for man to know something of how he came to be what he is, so that he may the better comprehend the future that lies before him, and see from the method of his progress in the past how best to further it in the lives to come. We may estimate the importance which such teaching bears in the minds of the Great Ones from whom all religions come, from the fact that in every faith in the world, even among those of savages, we always find some traces of an effort to explain the origin of the world and of man, even though often it may be only the wildest and least comprehensible of myths. We have a prominent example of this in the earlier part of the book of Genesis, which gives the account of these transactions which is traditional among the Jews. In the latest communication from the Great Brotherhood which stands behind and directs the affairs of the world, we find once more how prominent a position is assigned to the origin of man and of the system, from the space which is devoted to them in Madame Blavatsky’s monumental work The Secret Doctrine.

The Symbols Employed

Among the many interesting facts connected with the Mysteries was the use in their ceremonies of certain implements or symbolical treasures, the meaning of which perhaps needs some explanation. One of these was the Thyrsus, a rod with a pine-cone at the top; and frequently this rod was said to be hollow, and filled with fire. The same symbolic implement is found in India, where it is usually a seven-jointed bamboo which is employed. When a candidate has been initiated he was often described as one who had been touched with Thyrsus, indicating that this was not a mere emblem, but had also a practical use. It indicated the spinal cord ending in the brain, and the fire enclosed within it was the sacred serpent-fire which in Sanskrit is called kundalini. It was magnetized by the instructor and laid against the back of the candidate in order to awaken the latent force within him. It may probably also have been employed in the production of trance conditions, and it is possible that the fire within it may often have not only animal magnetism, but electricity. The latent force of kundalini is closely connected with occult development and with many kinds of practical magic, but any attempt to awaken or use it without the supervision of a competent teacher is fraught with serious dangers.

Another interesting group of symbols were the playthings of the infant Bacchus, or Dionysos. As I have already said, Dionysos was one of the names applied to the Logos, and the infancy signifies the commencement of this manifestation. In this infancy he is represented as playing, and his toys are a spinning-top, a ball, a mirror and a set of dice. You may think these incomprehensible symbols, but if you could see them you would understand at once, for these playthings are the matter of which the worlds are built. The spinning-top is the atom, always whirling round and round; and atoms are the bricks out of which the edifice of the solar system is constructed. The dice are not of the ordinary type, but are all different, for they are the five Platonic solids – the only regular solids which exist – the tetrahedron, the cube, the octahedron, the dodecahedron and the eikosihedron. These again may be regarded as building material, though in rather a different way. They represent the atoms of the various planes of nature – not that these are the shapes of those atoms, but that they indicate to the student of practical occultism certain fundamental qualities of the atoms, and the direction in which their force can be poured forth. We may make them into a series of seven by adding the point at the lower end and the sphere at the higher, and they then give us a sequence of deep hidden meaning. The ball with which he toys is naturally the earth, and his mirror is the astral matter, which so readily reflects and reverses everything, and is, therefore often symbolized as water, as in the story of Narcissus. It is interesting to note how all these curious and apparently unmeaning points clear up and become luminous as we study and understand them. It is also noteworthy for the Theosophical student that the indication of the earth by a ball shows the acquaintance of the teachers with its sphericity, and that the atom as drawn by Mrs. Besant in The Ancient Wisdom is by no means inaptly represented by a spinning-top.

The Pythagorean School

Many of the ancient schools of Philosophy worked in connection with the Mystery teaching. The Pythagoran seems to have been especially close to the Theosophical ideas of the present day. It divided its students into three degrees, which corresponded almost exactly with those of the early Christians, who called them the stages of Purification, Illumination and Perfection respectively – the last one including what St. Clement calls the scientific knowledge of God. In the Pythagorean scheme the first order was that of the Akoustikoi, or Hearers, who took no part in the discussions or addresses, but kept absolute silence in the meetings for two years, and devoted themselves to listening and learning.

At the end of that time, if otherwise satisfactory, the students were eligible for the second order of the Mathmatikoi. The mathematics which they learnt were not, however, confined to what we now mean by that term. We now study this science as an end in itself, but for them it was only a preparation for something much wider, higher and more practical. Geometry as we now know it was taught outside in ordinary life as a preparation; but inside these great Schools the subject was carried much farther, to the study and comprehension of the fourth dimension, and the laws and properties of higher space. It can only be fully understood it we take it thus as a whole, not in mere fragments, and as an introduction to astral development. It leads a man to understand all the octaves of vibrations, the vast areas of which as yet science knows nothing, the intricate occult relations of numbers, colours and sounds, the various three-dimensional sections of the mighty cone of space, and the true shape of the universe. There is a vast amount to be gained from the study of mathematics by those who know how to take it up in the right way. It helps us to see how the worlds are made, for, as was said of old, "God geometrizes."

The third degree of the Pythagoreans was that of the Physikoi – not physicists in our modern sense of the word, but students of the true inner life, who learnt how to distinguish the Divine Life under all its disguises, and so were able to comprehend the course of its evolution. The life exacted from all these pupils was one of the most exalted purity. In some of the schools it was divided into five stages, which correspond fairly with the five steps of the probationary Path, as described in our own literature.

The Greek Mysteries appear under different names in different places, but what has been said above will apply to all of them. There were the Mysteries of Zeus in Crete, of Hera in Argolis, of Athena in Athens, of Artemis in Arcadia, of Hecate in Aegina, and of Rhea in Phrygia. There was the so-called worship of the Kabeiroi in Egypt, Phoenicia and Greece; there were the interesting Persian Mysteries of Mithra, and those of Isis and Osiris in Egypt.

The Egyptian Mysteries

These last were surrounded by much that is of special interest to us. The well-known Book of the Dead is part of one of their manuals. The chapters which have been gradually collected from various tombs do not give us the whole of that work, but only one section of it, and even that is much corrupted. In its entirety it was intended as a kind of guide to the astral plane, containing a number of instructions for the conduct of the departed in the lower regions of that new world. The mind of the Egyptian seems to have worked along exceedingly formal and orderly lines; he tabulated every conceivable description of entity which a dead man could by any possibility meet, and arranged carefully the special charm or "word of power" which he considered most certain to vanquish the creature if he should prove hostile.

The Egyptian initiations were calculated on the same general plan. The candidate was attired in a white robe, emblematic of the purity which was expected (further symbolized by the preliminary bath, from which was derived the idea of Christian baptism), and brought before a conclave of priest-initiates in a sort of vault or cavern. He was formally tested as to the development of the clairvoyant faculty which he had been previously instructed how to awaken, and for this purpose had to read an inscription upon a brazen shield, of which the blank side was presented to his physical vision. Later he was left alone to keep a kind of vigil. Certain mantrams, or words of power, had been taught to him, which were supposed to be appropriate to control certain classes of entities; so during his vigil various appearances were projected before him, some of a terrifying and some of a seductive nature, so that it might be seen whether his courage and coolness remained perfect. He drove away all these appearances in turn, each by his own special sign or word; but at the end, all these combined bore down upon him at once, and in this final effort he was instructed to use the mightiest word of power (what is called in the East a Raja-Mantram), by which all possible evil could be vanquished. Whether the majority of the Egyptian students knew, as we know, that all these various charms and words were given only to aid and strengthen the will of the man, is not clear; though undoubtedly the higher initiates must have understood this. In truth, courage and purity of intention are all that is necessary, when coupled with the knowledge that had already been given.

Other ceremonies of the Egyptian Mysteries are of interest to us in the Occidental nations, because some of their ritual has curiously been entangled with our religious teachings, and utterly misunderstood and materialized. Even though at these later dates the ritual was shorn of much of its ancient splendour, it was still impressive. At one stage the candidate laid himself upon a curiously hollowed wooden cross, and after certain ceremonies was entranced. His body was then carried down into the vaults underneath the temple or pyramid, while he himself "descended into hades," or the underworld – that is to say, in our modern nomenclature, he passed on to the astral plane. Here he had many experiences, part of his work being to "preach to the spirits in prison"; for he remained in that trance condition for three days and three nights, which typified the three rounds and the intervals between them, during which man was going through the earlier part of his evolution, and descending into matter. Then, after "three days and three nights in the heart of the earth," on the morning of the fourth day "he rose again from the dead" – that is to say, his body was brought back from the vault, and so placed that the rays of the rising sun fell upon his face and he awoke. This symbolizes the awakening of man in the fourth round, and the commencement of his ascent out of matter on the upward arc of evolution.

Then was given to the candidate a glimpse of the buddhic plane, a touch of that higher consciousness which enabled him to feel the underlying unity of all, and so ( Page 75) realize, the divinity in all; and thus "he ascended into heaven." Many other points out of the life of an initiate and the stages through which he passes have been woven into the Christ-story by its authors, but they have been horribly misunderstood and degraded by the ignorant. An endeavour has been made to limit them and materialize them as historical events in the life one man; though the philosophical student realizes that, as Origen has so well put it, "Events which happened only once can be of no importance, and life, death, and resurrection are only a manifestation of a universal law which is really enacted, not in this fleeting world of shadows, but in the eternal counsels of the most High."

In time there came degradation of the Mysteries, and the inner light and life were largely withdrawn from them, yet they did not entirely die. In spite of the Church, all through the darkest times when anyone who was suspected of unorthodoxy was relentlessly persecuted, when it would seem that knowledge was dead, and that anything like intellectual progress was impossible, there were nevertheless certain half-secret societies which carried on something of the tradition and the work. There were the Knights Templar, the Rosicrucians of the Middle Ages, the Knights of Light, the Brothers of Asia, and many another occult body. It is true that in many of these there seems to have been but little knowledge, and even that heavily veiled; yet then, as ever, it remained true that there were always in the background those who knew, so that those who earnestly sought the Truth have always been able to find it.

At the present time their quest is surely easier than it has ever been before. The conditions of the world now are different from any that have previously existed; the invention of printing has made it possible to spread knowledge abroad in a new way, and those who stand behind and direct the destinies of the world have thought it well that a small corner of the veil should be lifted, and that something at least of what has so long been jealously guarded should be put freely and openly before the eyes of men. The world at large has evolved, and so it is hoped that we may be safely trusted with something of additional knowledge; and thus it has come to pass, as Christ said of old, that "many prophets and kings desired to see the things that we see, and have not seen them, and to hear the things which we hear, and have not heard them." All this we in the Theosophical Society are enjoying freely; yet because it is now so freely given we must not ungratefully despise it. All the more should we value and prize this possession which is ours, all the greater is our responsibility for its right use, all the more strenuous should be our effort to make it a part of our very lives, and to aid, in its light, in the evolution of the world. The opportunities now put before us are greater than those of our ancestors; let us see to it that we prove worthy of them. Let us not, as did the men of Atlantis, take advantage of them for selfish and personal gain, but let us take care that as we obtain greater knowledge and greater power it is always directed by greater love, so that we may learn to use it for the development of humanity and for the good of our fellowman.

Note. On the relation that exists between the Platonic solids of the Mysteries and the periodic law of the elements in modern chemistry, see Occult Chemistry by Annie Besant, 1909.

CHAPTER IV: BUDDHISM

It is obviously impossible to put before an audience in a lecture of an hour an adequate presentation of one of the great world-religions which is probably entirely new to many of those who are present. I do not propose therefore to give you the mere formal detail or framework of the subject, which those who wish for it can obtain from any encyclopaedia. My wish is rather to endeavor to put before you something of the life of the religion – less to quote from its books than to tell you how it acts and works as a living force today upon those who hold it as their creed. In connection with the Theosophical Society I have worked for years among the Buddhists of Ceylon and of Burma, and I was myself admitted into the Southern Buddhist Church by its Chief Abbott Hikkaduwe Sumangala. Though I must quote occasionally I will do so as little as possible, but shall try rather to give you my own impression of this great religion.

I must say a few words first as to the life of the Founder of Buddhism; then secondly I will outline its broad principles; and thirdly I will say something of its practical working.

The Life of the Founder

The story of the life of the Founder is one of the most beautiful that has ever been told, but I can give you only a slight sketch of it now. Those who wish to read it, told as it should be told, in glowing melodious poetry, should read The Light of Asia, by Sir Edwin Arnold. Indeed, grandly poetical though it be, there is no statement so beautiful of the principles of this great religion as that which Sir Edwin Arnold has given in his matchless verse, and if it be my privilege to introduce to that book any one who does not know it, assuredly that reader will owe me a debt of gratitude.

Briefly, then, this mighty Founder was the Prince Siddartha Gautama of Kapilavastu, a city about a hundred miles north-east of Benares in India, within forty miles of the lower spurs of the Himalaya mountains. He was the son of Suddhodana, king of the Sakyas, and his wife, Queen Maya. He was born in the year 623 B.C. And his birth is surrounded with many beautiful legends, just as are the births of all the other great teachers. It is related that various portents took place – for example, that a wonderful star appeared, just as was afterward told with regard to the birth of Christ. His father, the king, as was natural for an Indian monarch, had the child’s horoscope cast immediately after his birth; and a remarkable and transcendent destiny was predicted for him. It was foretold that he had before him a great choice, and that the might excel all men of his time along one of two lines, according to his preference. Either he might become a king of much wider

temporal power than his father – an Overlord or Emperor of the whole Indian Peninsula such as has arisen only occasionally in history; or he might abandon all the privileges of his princely birth and become a homeless ascetic, vowed to perpetual poverty and chastity. But if he selected this latter destiny he would be the greatest religious teacher whom the world had ever seen, and the millions who would follow him in this capacity would be more numerous by far than the subjects of any earthly kingdom.

Perhaps we can hardly wonder that King Suddhodana shrank somewhat from the idea of this mendicant life for his firstborn son, and wished rather that his royal line should be perpetuated and elevated. So he endeavoured from the first to direct the Prince’s choice rather along temporal than spiritual lines; and since he knew that the acceptance of the spiritual life would be most likely to be determined by the sight of the woes and sorrows of the world, and the desire to remedy them, he decided (so the story tells us) to keep from the Prince’s sight anything which could suggest these doleful topics. It is said that he resolved that the Prince should know nothing of decay or of death, and should be brought up in the midst of temporal pleasures and taught to devote himself to the glory and power of the royal house. The Prince dwelt in a noble palace encircled by miles of beautiful gardens, in which he was practically a prisoner, although he knew it not. He was surrounded by all that could minister to his delights in every possible way; only the young and the beautiful were allowed to approach him, and any one who was sick or suffering was sedulously kept out of his sight.

So he seems to have passed his early years in this strange, confined and yet delightful world. The boy grew up until he became of marriageable age, when he was betrothed to Yasodhara, daughter of the King Suprabuddha. It seems to have been supposed that this new interest would entirely fill the Prince’s life; and yet it is recorded that all the while at intervals remembrances of other lives would rise within his mind, and some faint presage of a mighty duty unfulfilled would trouble his repose. This uneasiness steadily increased and eventually he seems to have insisted upon passing into the outer world and seeing something of life other than his own.

It is recorded how in this way for the first time he came in contact with old age, with sickness and with death; and, profoundly affected by the sight of these states, so common to us, yet wholly new and unfamiliar to him, he sorrowed greatly over the sad destiny of his fellowmen. Seeing also one day a holy hermit, he was deeply impressed with the serenity and majesty of his appearance, and realized that here at least was one who rose superior to the otherwise universal ills of life. From that period his resolve to live the spiritual life grew stronger and stronger, and though in due course he married Yasodhara, and had one son, Rahula, at last the time came when in his twenty-ninth year he definitely abandoned his princely rank, leaving all his wealth in the hands of his wife and son, and betook himself to the jungle as an ascetic.

This may seem to our modern notions a very strange course to adopt, but it must be remembered that it was the only way to obtain such instruction as he desired. The conditions of life then were so different from our own that it is difficult for us to realize them. There were no printed books, and all the holy men were mendicants and ascetics. A student then had no alternative but to go from teacher to teacher to learn what each had to tell, and to discuss with each the problems of life so as to see what light he could throw on them.

Naturally at this time the Prince, like his father and all other inhabitants of India, belonged to the great Hindu religion; and consequently it was to some of the leading ascetic Brahmans that he went for instruction and guidance in this new life. For six years he passed from one of these teachers to another seeking to learn from them the true solution to the problem of life, and a remedy for the misery of the world, yet never finding fully that which he sought. Their doctrine seems always to have been that only through the most rigid asceticism and the heaviest self-imposed penances could one hope to escape from the sorrow and suffering which were the heritage of all men; and he tried all their systems to the uttermost one after the other, yet ever with an unsatisfied yearning for something greater, truer, and more real beyond. At last such persistent and rigorous asceticism told upon his health, and it is related that one day he fainted from hunger and lay almost at the point of death. He recovered from this, but he realized that though this might certainly be a way out of the world, it was hardly the way in which life could be brought into the world; and he reasoned that to aid his fellow-men he must at least live long enough to find the truth which should set them free. He seems to have taken from the first the most altruistic attitude. For himself he had all that could make life happiest; yet the dumb sorrow of the teeming millions appealed to him so strongly that while that existed unassuaged no happiness was possible for him. It was for them, not for himself, that he sought the way of escape from the misery of physical life. For them, not for himself, he felt the need of a higher life that could be lived by all.

So, finding all the ascetic practices unavailing, he decided instead to try the training of the mind along the lines of the highest meditation; and presently he seated himself beneath the Bodhi tree, determined to attain by the power of his own spirit the knowledge of which he was in search. There he sat in meditation reviewing all these things, studying deeply into the heart and cause of life and endeavouring to raise his consciousness to a higher level. At last by a mighty effort he succeeded, and then he saw unrolled before him the marvellous scheme of evolution and the true destiny of man. Thus he became the Buddha, the enlightened one; and then he turn