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Searchable Full Text of
The Ancient Wisdom by Annie Besant
The
Secret Doctrine by H P Blavatsky
The Ancient Wisdom
by
Annie Besant
(1847 - 1933)
Published in 1897
Annie
Besant was active in Theosophical circles and a collaborator with
Archbishop
C. W. Leadbeater.
THE
UNITY UNDERLYING ALL RELIGIONS
Right
thought is necessary to right conduct, right understanding to right
living,
and the Divine Wisdom – whether called by its ancient Sanskrit name of
Brahma
Vidya, or its modern Greek name of Theosophia, Theosophy – comes to the
world
as at once an adequate philosophy and an all-embracing religion and ethic.
It
was once said of the Christian Scriptures by a devotee that they contained
shallows
in which a child could wade and depths in which a giant must swim. A
similar
statement might be made of Theosophy, for some of its teachings are so
simple
and so practical that any person of average intelligence can understand
and
follow them, while others are so lofty, so profound, that the ablest strains
his
intellect to contain them and sinks exhausted in the effort.
In
the present volume an attempt will be made to place Theosophy before the
reader
simply and clearly, in a way which shall convey its general principles
and
truths as forming a coherent conception of the universe, and shall give such
detail
as is necessary for the understanding of their relations to each other.
An
elementary textbook cannot pretend to give the fullness of knowledge that may
be
obtained from abstruser works, but it should leave the student with clear
fundamental
ideas on his subject, with much indeed to add by future study but
with
little to unlearn. Into the outline given by such a book the student should
be
able to paint the details of further research.
It
is admitted on all hands that a survey of the great religions of the world
shows
that they hold in common many religious, ethical, and philosophical ideas.
But
while the fact is universally granted, the explanation of the fact is a
matter
of dispute.
Some
allege that religions have grown up on the soil of human ignorance tilled
by
the imagination, and have been gradually elaborated from crude forms of
animism
and fetishism; their likenesses are referred to universal natural
phenomena
imperfectly observed and fancifully explained, solar and star worship
being
the universal key for one school, phallic worship the equally universal
key
for another ; fear, desire, ignorance, and wonder led the savage to
personify
the powers of nature, and priests played upon his terrors and his
hopes,
his misty fancies, and his bewildered questionings ; myths became
scriptures
and symbols facts, and their basis was universal the likeness of the
products
was inevitable. Thus speak the doctors of "Comparative Mythology,"
and
plain
people are silenced but not convinced under the rain of proofs ; they
cannot
deny the likenesses, but they dimly feel: Are all man’s dearest hopes and
lofty
imaginings nothing more than the outcome of savage fancies and of groping
ignorance?
Have the great leaders of the race, the martyrs and heroes of
humanity,
lived, wrought, suffered and died deluded, for the mere
personifications
of astronomical facts and for the draped obscenities of
barbarians?
The
second explanation of the common property in the religions of the world
asserts
the existence of an original teaching in the custody of a Brotherhood of
greatspiritual
Teachers, who – Themselves the outcome of past cycles of
evolution
– acted as the instructors and guides of the child-humanity of our
planet,
imparting to its races and nations in turn the fundamental truths of
religion
in the form most adapted to the idiosyncrasies of the recipients.
According
to this view, the Founders of the great religions are members of the
one
Brotherhood, and were aided in Their mission by many other members, lower in
degree
than Themselves, Initiates and disciples of various grades, eminent in
spiritual
insight, in philosophical knowledge, or in purity of ethical wisdom.
These
guided the infant nations, gave them their polity, enacted their laws,
ruled
them as kings, taught them as philosophers, guided them as priests ; all
the
nations of antiquity looked back to such mighty men, demigods, and heroes,
and
they left their traces in literature, in architecture, in legislation.
That
such men lived it seems difficult to deny in the face of universal
tradition,
of still existing Scriptures, and of prehistoric remains for the most
part
now in ruins, to say nothing of other testimony which the ignorant would
reject.
The sacred books of the East are the best evidence for the greatness of
their
authors, for who in later days or in modern times can even approach the
spiritual
sublimity of their religious thought, the intellectual splendour of
their
philosophy, the breadth and purity of their ethic? And when we find that
these
books contain teachings about God, man, and the universe identical in
substance
under much variety of outer appearance, it does not seem unreasonable
to
refer to them to a central primary body of doctrine. To that body we give the
name
Divine Wisdom, in its Greek form: THEOSOPHY.
As
the origin and basis of all religions, it cannot be the antagonist of any: it
is
indeed their purifier, revealing the valuable inner meaning of much that has
become
mischievous in its external presentation by the perverseness of ignorance
and
the accretions of superstition ; but it recognises and defends itself in
each,
and seeks in each to unveil its hidden wisdom. No man in becoming a
Theosophist
need cease to be a Christian, a Buddhist, a Hindu ; he will but
acquire
a deeper insight into his own faith, a firmer hold on its spiritual
truths,
a broader understanding of its sacred teachings. As Theosophy of old
gave
birth to religions, so in modern times does it justify and defend them. It
is
the rock whence all of them were hewn, the hole of the pit whence all were
dug.
It justifies at the bar of intellectual criticism the deepest longings and
emotions
of the human heart: it verifies our hopes for man ; it gives us back
ennobled
our faith in God.
The
truth of this statement becomes more and more apparent as we study the
various
world-Scriptures, and but a few selections from the wealth of material
available
will be sufficient to establish the fact, and to guide the student in
his
search for further verification. The main spiritual verities of religion may
be
summarised thus:
One eternal, infinite, incognisable real
Existence.
From THAT the manifested God, unfolding from
unity to duality to trinity.
From the manifested Trinity many spiritual
Intelligences, guiding cosmic
order.
Man a reflection of the manifested God and
therefore a trinity fundamentally,
his inner and real Self being eternal, one
with the Self of the universe.
His evolution by repeated incarnations, into
which he is drawn by desire, and
from which he is set free by knowledge and
sacrifice, becoming divine in
potency as he had ever been divine in
latency.
Turanians,
the fourth subdivision of the great Fourth Race, the race which
inhabited
the lost continent of Atlantis, and spread its offshoots over the
world.
The Mongolians, the last subdivision of that same race, later reinforced
its
population, so that in
the
settlement of the Fifth, or Aryan race in
or
Classic of Purity, we have a fragment of an ancient scripture of singular
beauty,
breathing out the spirit of restfulness and peace so characteristic of
the
"original teaching." Mr. Legge says in the introductory note to his
translation
[ The Sacred Books of the East] that the treatise –
"Is
attributed to Ko Yüan (or Hsüan), a Taoist of the Wü dynasty (A.D. 222-227),
who
is fabled to have attained to the state of an Immortal, and is generally so
denominated.
He is represented as a worker of miracles ; as addicted to
intemperance,
and very eccentric in his ways. When shipwrecked on one occasion,
he
emerged from beneath the water with his clothes unwet, and walked freely on
the
surface. Finally he ascended to the sky in bright day. All these accounts
may
safely be put down as the figments of later time."
Such
stories are repeatedly told of Initiates of various degrees, and are by no
means
necessarily "figments," but we are more interested in Ko Yüan’s own
account
of the book.
"When
I obtained the true Tao, I recited this Ching [book] ten thousand times.
It
is what the Spirits of heaven practise and had not been communicated to
scholars
of this lower world. I got if from the Divine Ruler of the
;
he received it from the Divine Ruler of the
the
Royal-mother of the West.
Now
the "Divine Ruler of the
who
ruled the Toltec empire in Atlantis, and its use suggests that the Classic
of
Purity was brought thence to
Toltecs.
The idea is strengthened by the contents of the brief treatise, which
deals
with Tao – literally "the Way’ – the name by which the One Reality is
indicated
in the ancient Turanian and Mongolian religion. We read:
"The
Great Tao has no bodily form, but It produced and nourishes heaven and
earth.
The Great Tao has no passions, but It causes the sun and the moon to
revolve
as they do. The Great Tao has no name, but It effects the growth and
maintenance
of all things. (i,1)
This
is the manifested God as unity, but duality supervenes:
Now
the Tao (shows itself in two forms), the Pure and the Turbid, and has (two
conditions
of) Motion and Rest, Heaven is pure and earth is turbid ; heaven
moves
and the earth is at rest . The masculine is pure and the feminine is
turbid
; the masculine moves and the feminine is still. The radical (Purity)
descended,
and the (turbid) issue flowed abroad, and thus all things were
produced
(I, 2).
This
passage is particularly interesting from the allusion to the active and
receptive
sides of Nature, the distinction between Spirit, the generator, and
Matter,
the nourisher, so familiar in later writings.
In
the Tao Te Ching the teaching as to the Unmanifested and the Manifested comes
out
very plainly.
"The
Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging Tao. The name
that
can be named is not the enduring and unchanging name. Having no name, it is
the
Originator of heaven and earth, having a name, it is the Mother of all
things…Under
these two aspects it is really the same ; but as development takes
place
it receives the different names. Together we call them the Mystery (i,
1,2,4).
"
Students
of the Kabalah will be reminded of one of the Divine Names, "the
Concealed
Mystery." Again:
"There
was something undefined and complete, coming into existence before heaven
and
earth. How still it was and formless, standing alone and undergoing no
change,
reaching everywhere and in no danger (of being exhausted). It may be
regarded
as the Mother of all things. I do not know its name, and I give it the
designation
of the Tao. Making an effort to give it a name, I call it the Great.
Great,
it passes on ( in constant flow). Passing on, it becomes remote. Having
become
remote, it returns (xxv, 1-3). "
Very
interesting it is to see here the idea of the forthgoing and the returning
of
the One Life, so familiar to us in the Hindu Literature. Familiar seems the
verse:
"All
things under heaven sprang from It as existent (and named) ; that existence
sprang
from It as non-existent (and not named) (xl,2)".
That
a Universe might become, the Unmanifest must give forth the One from whom
duality
and trinity proceed:
"The
Tao produced One ; One produced Two ; Two produced Three ; Three produced
all
things. All things leave behind them the Obscurity (out of which they have
come),
and go forward to embrace the Brightness (into which they have emerged),
while
they are harmonised by the Breath of vacancy (xlii, 1)."
"Breath
of Space" would be a happier translation. Since all is produced from It,
It
exists in all:
"All
pervading is the Great Tao. It may be found on the left hand and on the
right
…It clothes all things as with a garment, and makes no assumption of being
their
lord ; - It may be named in the smallest things. All things return (to
their
root and disappear), and do not know that it is It which presides over
their
doing so – It may be named in the greatest things (xxxiv, 1, 2 )."
Chwang-ze
(fourth century BC) in his presentation of the ancient teachings,
refers
to the spiritual Intelligences coming from the Tao:
"It
has Its root and ground (of existence) in Itself. Before there were heaven
and
earth, from of old, there It was securely existing. From It came the
mysterious
existence of spirits, from It the mysterious existence of God (Bk.
vi,
Pt. I, Sec. vi, 7)."
A
number of the names of these Intelligences follow, but such beings are so well
known
to play a great part in the Chinese religion that we need not multiply
quotations
about them.
Man
is regarded as a trinity, Taoism, says Mr. Legge, recognising in him the
spirit,
the mind, and the body. This division comes out clearly in the /Classic
of
Purity, in the teaching that man must get rid of desire to reach union with
the
One:
Now
the spirit of man loves purity, but his mind disturbs it. The mind of man
loves
stillness, but his desires draw it away. If he could always send his
desires
away, his mind of itself would be still. Let his mind be made clean, and
his
spirit of itself becomes pure ….The reason why men are not able to attain to
this
is because their minds have not been cleansed, and their desires have not
been
sent away. If one is able to send the desires away, when he then looks at
his
mind it is no longer his: when he looks out at his body it is no longer his
;
and when he looks farther off at external things, they are things which he has
nothing
to do with ..(i, 3, 4).
Then,
after giving the stages of indrawing to "the condition of perfect
stillness,"
it is asked:
"In
that condition of rest independently of place, how can any desire arise? And
when
no desire any longer arises there is the true stillness and rest. That true
(stillness)
becomes (a) constant quality, and responds to external things
(without
error) ; yea, that true and constant quality holds possession of the
nature.
In such constant response and constant stillness there is constant
purity
and rest. He who has this absolute purity enters gradually into the
(inspiration
of the ) True Tao (i, 5)."
The
supplied words "inspiration of" rather cloud than elucidate the
meaning, for
entering
into the Tao is congruous with the whole idea and with other
Scriptures.
On
putting away of desire is laid much stress in Taoism ; a commentator on the
Classic
of Purity remarks that understanding the Tao depends on absolute purity,
and
The
acquiring the Absolute Purity depends entirely on the putting away of
Desire,
which is the urgent practical lesson of the Treatise.
The
Tao Teh Ching says:
Always
without desire we must be found,
If
its deep mystery we would sound;
But
if desire always within us be,
Its
outer fringe is all that we shall see.( i, 3)
Reincarnation
does not seem to be so distinctly taught as might have been
expected,
although passages are found which imply that the main idea was taken
for
granted and that the entity was considered as ranging through animal as well
as
human births. Thus we have from Chwang-ze the quaint and wise story of a
dying
man, to whom his friend said:
"Great
indeed is the Creator! What will He now make you to become? Where will He
take
you to? Will he make you the liver of a rat or the arm of an insect? Szelai
replied,
"Wherever a parent tells a son to go, east, west, south or north, he
simply
follows the command …Here now is a great founder, casting his metal. If
the
metal were to leap up (in the pot) and say, ‘I must be made into a (sword
like
the ) Moysh,’ the great founder would be sure to regard it as uncanny. So
again,
when a form is being fashioned in the mould of the womb, if it were to
say,
‘I must become a man, I must become a man,’ the Creator would be sure to
regard
it as uncanny. When we once understand that heaven and earth are a great
melting
pot and the Creator a great founder, where can we to go to that shall
not
be right for us? We are born as from a quiet sleep and we die to a calm
awaking"
(Bk. vi, Pt. I, Sec. vi).
Turning
to the Fifth, the Aryan Race, we have the same teachings embodied in the
oldest
and greatest Aryan religion – the Brahmanical. The eternal Existence is
proclaimed
in the Chhandogyopanishad as "One only, without a second," and it is
written:
It
willed, I shall multiply for the sake of the universe (vi, ii, 1, 3).
The
Supreme Logos, Brahman, is threefold – Being, Consciousness, Bliss, and it
is
said:
From
This arise life, mind and all the senses, ether, air, fire , water, earth
the
support of all ( Mundakopanishad, ii,3).
No
grander descriptions of Deity can be found anywhere than in the Hindu
Scriptures,
but they are becoming so familiar that brief quotation will suffice.
Let
the following serve as specimens of their wealth of gems:
"Manifest,
near, moving in the secret place, the great abode, herein rests all
that
moves, breathes, and shuts the eyes. Know That as to be worshipped, being
and
non-being, the best, beyond the knowledge of all creatures. Luminous,
subtler
than the subtle, in which the worlds and their denizens are infixed.
That,
this imperishable Brahman ; That, also life and voice and mind…In the
golden
highest sheath is spotless, partless Brahman ; That the pure Light of
lights,
known by the knowers of the Self…That deathless Brahman is before,
Brahman
behind, Brahman to the right and to the left, below, above, pervading ;
this
Brahman truly is the all. This is the best ( Mundakopanishad , II,ii,
1,2,9,11).
Beyond
the universe, Brahman, the supreme, the great, hidden in all beings
according
to their bodies, the one Breath of the whole universe, the Lord, whom
knowing
(men) become immortal. I know that mighty Spirit, the shining sun beyond
darkness…
I know Him the unfading, the ancient, the Soul of all, omnipresent by
His
nature, whom the Brahman-knowers call unborn, whom they call eternal
(Shvetashvataropanishad,
iii. 7,8,21).
When
there is no darkness, no day nor night, no being nor non-being (there is)
Shiva
even alone ; That the indestructible, That is to be worshipped by Savriti,
from
That came forth the ancient wisdom. Not above nor below, nor in the midst,
can
He be comprehended. Nor is there any similitude for Him whose name is
infinite
glory. Not with the sight is established His form, none may by the eye
behold
Him ; they who know Him by the heart and by the mind, dwelling in the
heart,
become immortal (Ibid., iv, 18-20).
That
man in his inner Self is one with the Self of the universe – "I am
That" –
is
an idea that so thoroughly pervades all Hindu thought that man is often
referred
to as the "divine town of Brahman," [ Mundakopanishad ] the
"town of
nine
gates," [ Shvetâshvataropanishad, iii,14. ] God dwelling in the cavity of
the
heart.[ Ibid., Ii]
"In
one manner is to be seen (the Being) which cannot be proved, which is
eternal,
without spot, higher than the ether, unborn, the great eternal
Soul…This
great unborn Soul is the same which abides as the intelligent (soul)
in
all living creatures, the same which abides as ether in the heart ; [ The
"ether
in the heart" is a mystical phrase used to indicate the One, who is said
to
dwell therein.] - in him it sleeps; it is the Subduer of all, the Ruler of
all,
the sovereign Lord of all ; it does not become greater by good works nor
less
by evil work. It is the Ruler of all, the sovereign Lord of all beings, the
Preserver
of all beings, the Bridge, the Upholder of the worlds, so that they
fall
not to ruin ( Brihadaranyakopanishad, IV, iv, 20,22, Trs. Dr. E. Röer.)
When
God is regarded as the evolver of the universe, the threefold character
comes
out very clearly as Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma or again as Vishnu sleeping
under
the waters, the Lotus springing from Him, and in the Lotus Brahma. Man is
likewise
threefold, and in the Mândûkyopanishad the self is described as
conditioned
by the physical body, the subtle body, and the mental body, and then
rising
out of all into the One "without duality." From the Trimurti
(Trinity)
come
many Gods, connected with the administration of the universe, as to whom it
is
said in the Brihadaranyakopanishad.
"Adore
Him, ye Gods, after whom the year by rolling days is completed, the Light
of
lights, as the Immortal Life (IV, iv, 16)."
It
is hardly necessary to mention the presence in Brâhmanism of the teaching of
reincarnation,
since its whole philosophy of life turns on this pilgrimage of
the
Soul through many births and deaths, and not a book could be taken up in
which
this truth is not taken for granted. By desires man is bound to this wheel
of
change, and therefore by knowledge, devotion, and the destruction of desires,
man
must set himself free. When the Soul knows God it is liberated. ( Shvetash,
I,
8.) The intellect purified by knowledge beholds Him. ( Mund., III, I,8 .)
Knowledge
joined to devotion finds the abode of Brahman. ( Mund., III, ii,4).
Whoever
knows Brahman, becomes Brahman. ( Mund., III, ii,9 ) When desires cease
the
mortal becomes immortal and obtains Brahman. ( Kathop., vi, 14).
Buddhism,
as it exists in its northern form, is quite at one with the most
ancient
faiths, but in the southern form it seems to have let slip the idea of
the
Logoic Trinity as of the One Existence from which They came forth. The LOGOS
in
His triple manifestation is: the First LOGOS, Amitâbha, the Boundless Light ;
the
Second, Avalokiteshvara, or Padmapani (Chenresi) ; the Third, Manjusri –
"the
representative of creative wisdom, corresponding to Brahmâ." ( Eitel’s
Sanskrit
Chinese Dictionary, sub voce. ) Chinese Buddhism apparently does not
contain
the idea of a primordial Existence, beyond the LOGOS, but Nepalese
Buddhism
postulates Âdi-Buddha, from Whom Amitâbha arises. Padmapâni is said by
Eitel
to be the representative of compassionate Providence and to correspond
partly
with Shiva, but as the aspect of the Buddhist Trinity that sends forth
incarnations
He appears rather to represent the same idea as Vishnu, to whom He
is
allied by bearing the Lotus (fire and water, or Spirit and Matter as the
primary
constituents of the universe).
Reincarnation
and Karma are so much the fundamentals of Buddhism that it is
hardly
worth while to insist on them save to note the way of liberation, and to
remark
that as the Lord Buddha was a Hindu preaching to Hindus, Brâhmanical
doctrines
are taken for granted constantly in His teaching, as matters of
course.
He was a purifier and a reformer, not an iconoclast, and struck at the
accretions
due to ignorance, not at fundamental truths belonging to the Ancient
Wisdom.
"Those
beings who walk in the way of the law that has been well taught, reach
the
other shore of the great sea of birth and death, that is difficult to
cross."
(Udanavarga, xxix. 37).
Desire
binds man, and must be gotten rid of:
"It
is hard for one who is held by the fetters of desire to free himself of
them,
says the Blessed One. The steadfast, who care not for the happiness of
desires,
cast them off and do soon depart (to Nirvana)….Mankind has no lasting
desires:
they are impermanent in them who experience them ; free yourselves then
from
what cannot last, and abide not in the sojourn of death ( Ibid., Ii, 6, 8).
He
who has destroyed desires for (worldly )goods, sinfulness, the bonds of the
eye
of the flesh, who has torn up desire by the very root, he, I declare, is a
Brahmana
(Ibid., xxxiii, 68)."
And
a Brâhmana is a man "having his last body," (Udânavarga, xxxiii, 41)
and is
defined
as one.
"Who,
knowing his former abodes (existences) perceives heaven and hell, the
Muni,
who has found the way to put an end to birth". (ibid., xxxiii,55).
In
the exoteric Hebrew Scriptures, the idea of a Trinity does not come out
strongly,
though duality is apparent, and the God spoken of is obviously the
LOGOS,
not the One Unmanifest:
"I
am the Lord and there is none else. I form the light and create darkness; I
make
peace and create evil ; I am the Lord that doeth all these things." (Is.,
xlvii,
7)
Philo,
however, has the doctrine of the LOGOS very clearly, and it is found in
the
Fourth Gospel:
"In
the beginning was the Word [Logos] and the Word was with God and the Word
was
God….All things were made by Him, and without Him was not anything made that
was
made. (St. John i, 1, 3).
In
the Kabalah the doctrine of the One, the Three, the Seven, and then the many,
is
plainly taught:
The
Ancient of the Ancients, the Unknown of the Unknown, has a form, yet also
has
not any form. It has a form through which the universe is maintained. It
also
has not any form, as It cannot be comprehended. When It first took this
form
[Kether, the Crown, the First Logos] It permitted to proceed from It nine
brilliant
Lights [Wisdom and the Voice, forming with Kether the Triad, and then
the
seven lower Sephiroth] …It is the Ancient of the Ancients, the Mystery of
the
Mysteries, the Unknown of the Unknown.
It
has a form which appertains to It, since It appears (through it) to us, as
the
Ancient Man above all as the Ancient of the Ancients, and as that which
there
is the Most Unknown among the Unknown. But under that form by which It
makes
Itself known, It however still remains the Unknown (Issac Myer’s Qabbalah,
from
the Zohar, pp. 274-275).
Myer
points out that the "form" is "not ‘the Ancient of the Ancients,’
who is
the
Ain Soph.
Again:
"Three
Lights are in the Holy Upper which Unite as One ; and they are the basis
of
the Thorah, and this opens the door to all….Come, see! the mystery of the
word.
These are three degrees and each exists by itself, and yet all are One and
are
knotted in One, nor are they separated one from another….Three come out from
One,
One exists in Three, it is the force between Two, Two nourishes One. One
nourishes
many sides, thus All is One. (ibid., 373, 375,376).
Needless
to say that the Hebrews held the doctrine of many Gods – "Who is like
unto
Thee, O Lord, among the Gods?" –and of multitudes of subordinate
ministrants,
the "Sons of God," the "Angels of the Lord," the "Ten
Angelic
Hosts."(Exodus,
xv,ii.)
Of
the commencement of the universe the Zohar teaches:
In
the beginning was the Will of the King, prior to any existence which came
into
being through emanation from this Will. It sketched and engraved the forms
of
all things that were to be manifested from concealment into view, in the
supreme
and dazzling light of the Quadrant [the Sacred Tetractys] (Myer’s
Quabbalah,
pp. 194-95).
Nothing
can exist in which the Deity is not immanent, and with regard to
Reincarnation
it is taught that the Soul is present in the divine Idea ere
coming
to earth ; if the Soul remained quite pure during its trial it escaped
rebirth,
but this seems to have been only a theoretical possibility, and it is
said:
All
souls are subject to revolution (metempsychosis, a’leen o’gilgoolah), but
men
do not know the ways of the Holy One: blessed be It! they are ignorant of
the
way they have been judged in all time, and before they came into this world
and
when they have quitted it (ibid., p. 198).
Traces
of this belief occur both in the Hebrew and Christian exoteric
Scriptures,
as in the belief that Elijah would return, and later that he had
returned
in John the Baptist.
Turning
to glance at Egypt, we find there from hoariest antiquity its famous
Trinity,
Ra, Osiris-Isis as the dual Second LOGOS, and Horus. The great hymn to
Amun-Ra
will be remembered:
The
Gods bow before Thy Majesty by exalting the Souls of That which produceth
them….and
say to Thee: Peace to all emanations from the unconscious father of
the
conscious Fathers of the Gods…..Thou Producer of beings, we adore the Souls
which
emanate from Thee. Thou begettest us, O Thou Unknown, and we greet Thee in
worshipping
each God-Soul which descendeth from Thee and liveth in us (quoted in
Secret
Doctrine iii, 485, 1893 ed.; v, 463, Adyar Ed.).
The
"conscious Fathers of the Gods" are the LOGOI, the "unconscious
Father" is
the
One Existence, unconscious not as being less but as being infinitely more
than
what we call consciousness, a limited thing.
In
the fragments of the Book of the Dead we can study the conceptions of the
reincarnating
of the human Soul, of its pilgrimage towards and its ultimate
union
with the LOGOS. The famous papyrus of "the scribe Ani, triumphant in
peace,"
is full of touches that remind the reader of the Scriptures of other
faiths
; his journey through the underworld, his expectation of re-entering his
body
(the form taken by reincarnation among the Egyptians), his identification
with
the LOGOS:
Saith
Osiris Ani: I am the great One, son of the great One ; I am Fire, the son
of
Fire …I have knit together my bones, I have made myself whole and sound ; I
have
become young once more ; I am Osiris the Lord of eternity (xliii, 1, 4 ).
In
Pierret’s recension of The Book of the Dead we find the striking passage:
I
am the being of mysterious names who prepares for himself dwellings for
millions
of years (p. 22). Heart, that comest to me from my mother, my heart
necessary
to my existence on earth …Heart, that comest to me from my mother,
heart
that is necessary for me for my transformation (pp. 113-114).
In
Zoroastrianism we find the conception of the One Existence, imaged as
Boundless
Space, whence arises the LOGOS, the creator Aûharmazd:
Supreme
in omniscience and goodness, and unrivalled in splendor: the region of
light
is the place of Aûharmazd (The Bundahis, Sacred Books of the East, v, 3,
4;
v, 2).
To
him in the Yasna, the chief liturgy of the Zarathustrians, homage is first
paid:
I
announce and I (will) complete (my Yasna [worship] to Ahura Mazda, the
creator,
the radiant and glorious, the greatest and the best, the most beautiful
(?)
(to our conceptions), the most firm, the wisest, and the one of all whose
body
is most perfect, who attains his ends the most infallibly, because of His
righteous
order, to Him who disposes our minds aright, who sends His
joy-creating
grace afar ; who made us and has fashioned us, and who has
nourished
and protected us, who is the most bounteous Spirit (Sacred Books of
the
East, xxxi, pp. 195,196).
The
worshipper then pays homage to the Ameshaspends and other Gods, but the
supreme
manifested God, the LOGOS, is not here presented as triune. As with the
Hebrews,
there was a tendency in the exoteric faith to lose sight of this
fundamental
truth. Fortunately we can trace the primitive teaching, though it
disappeared
in later times from the popular belief. Dr. Haug, in his Essays on
the
Parsis (translated by Dr. West and forming vol. v of Trubner’s Oriental
Series)
states that Ahuramazda – Aûharmazd or Hârmazd – is the Supreme Being,
and
that from him were produced –
Two
primeval causes, which, though different were united and produced the world
of
material things as well as that of the spirit (p. 303).
These
were called twins and are everywhere present, in Ahuramazda as well as in
man.
One produces reality, the other non-reality, and it is these who in later
Zoroastrianism
became the opposing Spirits of good and evil. In the earlier
teachings
they evidently formed the Second Logos, duality being his
characteristic
mark.
The
"good" and "bad" are merely Light and Darkness, Spirit and
Matter, the
fundamental
"twins" of the Universe, the Two from the One.
Criticising
the later idea, Dr. Haug says:
Such
is the original Zoroastrian notion of the two creative Spirits, who form
only
two parts of the Divine being. But in the course of time this doctrine of
the
great founder was changed and corrupted, in consequence of misunderstandings
and
false interpretations. Spentômainyush [ the "good spirit"] was taken
as a
name
of Ahuramazda Himself, and then of course Angrômainyush [ the "evil
spirit"]
by becoming entirely separated from Ahuramazda ; was regarded as the
constant
adversary of Ahuramazda: thus the Dualism of God and Devil arose (p.
205).
Dr.
Haug’s view seems to be supported by the Gâtha Ahunavaiti, given with other
Gâthas
by "the archangels" to Zoroaster or Zarathustra:
In
the beginning there was a pair of twins, two spirits, each of a peculiar
activity
; these are the good and the base …And these two spirits united created
the
first (the material things) ; one the reality, the other the non-reality
…And
to succor this life (to increase it) Armaiti came with wealth, the good and
true
mind ; she, the everlasting one, created the material world….All perfect
things
are garnered up in the splendid residence of the Good Mind, the Wise and
the
Righteous, who are known as the best beings (Yas., xxx, 3,4,7,10; Dr. Haug’s
translation,
pp.149-151).
Here
the three LOGOI are seen, Ahuramazda the first, the supreme Life ; in and
from
him the "twins," the Second LOGOS ; then Armaiti the Mind, the
Creator of
the
Universe, the Third LOGOS. ( Armaiti was a first Wisdom and the Goddess of
Wisdom,
Later as the creator, She became identified with the earth, and was
worshipped
as the Goddess of Earth). Later Mithra appears, and in the exoteric
faith
clouds the primitive truth to some extent ; of him it is said:
Whom
Ahura Mazda has established to maintain and look over all this moving world
;
who, never sleeping, wakefully guards the creation of Mazda (Mihir Yast,
xxvii,
103: Sacred Books of the East, xviii).
He
was a subordinate God, the Light of Heaven, as Varuna was the Heaven itself,
one
of the great ruling Intelligences. The highest of these ruling Intelligences
were
the six Ameshaspends, headed by the Good Thought of Ahuramazda, Vohûman –
Who
have charge of the whole material creation (Sacred Books of the East,v. p.
10
note).
Reincarnation
does not seem to be taught in the books which, so far, have been
translated,
and the belief is not current among modern Parsis. But we do find
the
idea of the Spirit in man as a spark that is to become a flame and to be
reunited
to the Supreme Fire, and this must imply a development for which
rebirth
is a necessity. Nor will Zoroastrianism ever be understood until we
recover
the Chaldean Oracles and allied writings, for there is its real root.
Travelling
westward to Greece, we meet with the Orphic system, described with
such
abundant learning by G.R.S.Mead in his work Orpheus. The Ineffable
Thrice-unknown
Darkness was the name given to the One Existence.
According
to the theology of Orpheus, all things originate from an immense
principle,
to which through the imbecility and poverty of human conception we
give
a name, though it is perfectly ineffable, and in the reverential language
of
the Egyptians in a thrice unknown darkness in contemplation of which all
knowledge
is refunded into ignorance (Thomas Taylor, quoted in Orpheus, ).
From
this the "Primordial Triad," Universal Good, Universal Soul,
Universal
Mind,
again the Logoic Trinity. Of this Mr. Mead writes:
The
first Triad, which is manifestable to intellect, is but a reflection of, or
substitute
for the Unmanifestable, and its hypostases are: (a) the Good, which
is
super-essential; (b) Soul (the World Soul), which is a self-motive essence;
and
(c) Intellect (or the Mind), which is an impartible, immovable essence
(ibid.,
p. 94).
After
this, a series of ever-descending Triads, showing the characteristics of
the
first in diminishing splendor until man is reached, who –
Has
in him potentially the sum and substance of the universe…"The race of men
and
gods is one (Pindar, who was a Pythagorean, quoted by Clemens, Strom.,
v.709)…Thus
man was called the microcosm or little world, to distinguish him
from
the universe or great world (ibid., p. 271).
He
has the Nous, or real mind, the Logos or rational part, the Alogos or
irrational
part, the two latter again forming a Triad, and thus presenting the
more
elaborate septenary division. The man was also regarded as having three
vehicles,
the physical and subtle bodies and the luciform body or augoeides,
that:
Is
the "causal body," or karmic vesture of the soul, in which its
destiny, or
rather
all the seeds of past causation are stored. This is the
"thread-soul," as
it
is sometimes called, the "body" that passes over from one incarnation
to
another
(ibid., p. 284).
As
to reincarnation:
Together
with all the adherents of the Mysteries in every land the Orphics
believed
in reincarnation (ibid., p. 292).
To
this Mr. Mead brings abundant testimony, and he shows that it was taught by
Plato,
Empedocles, Pythagoras, and others. Only by virtue could men escape from
the
life-wheel.
Taylor
in his notes to the Select Works of Plotinus, quotes from Damascius as to
the
teachings of Plato on the One beyond the One, the Unmanifest Existence:
Perhaps
indeed, Plato leads us ineffably through the one as a medium to the
ineffable
beyond the one which is now the subject of discussion ; and this by an
ablation
of the one in the same manner as he leads to the one by an ablation of
other
things…That which is beyond the one is to be honoured in the most perfect
silence…The
one indeed wills to be by itself, but with no other ; but the
unknown
beyond the one is perfectly ineffable, which we acknowledge we neither
know,
nor are ignorant of, but which has about itself super-ignorance. Hence by
proximity
to this the one itself is darkened ; for being near to the immense
principle,
if it be lawful so to speak, it remains as it were in the adytum of
the
truly mystic silence…The first is above the one and all things, being more
simple
than either of these (pp.341-343).
The
Pythagorean, Platonic, and Neo-Platonic schools have so many points of
contact
with Hindu and Buddhist thought that their issue from the one fountain
is
obvious. R. Garbe, in his work, Die Samkhya Philosophie (iii,pp.85-105)
presents
many of these points, and his statement may be summarised as follows:
The
most striking is the resemblance – or more correctly the identity – of the
doctrine
of the One and Only in the Upanishads and the Eleatic school.
Xenophanes’
teaching of the unity of God and the Kosmos and of the
changelessness
of the One, and even more that of Parmenides, who held that
reality
is ascribable only to the One unborn, indestructible and omnipresent,
while
all that is manifold and subject to change is but an appearance, and
further
that Being and Thinking are the same – these doctrines are completely
identical
with the essential contents of the Upanishads and of the Vedântic
philosophy
which springs from them. But even earlier still the view of Thales,
that
all that exists has sprung from Water, is curiously like the VaidiK
doctrine
that the Universe arose from the waters. Later on Anaximander assumed
as
the basis (????) of all things an eternal, infinite, and indefinite
Substance,
from which all definite substances proceed and into which they return
–
an assumption identical with that which lies at the root of the Sankhya, viz.,
the
Prakrti from which the whole material side of the universe evolved.
And
his famous saying p??ta ´?eî (panta rhei) expresses the characteristic view
of
the Sânkhya that all things are ever changing under the ceaseless activity of
the
three gunas. Empedocles again taught theories of transmigration and
evolution
practically the same as those of the Sânkhyas, while his theory that
nothing
can come into being which does not already exist is even more closely
identical
with a characteristically Sânkhyan doctrine.
Both
Anaxagoras and Democritus also present several points of close agreement,
especially
the latter’s view as to the nature and position of the Gods, and the
same
applies, notably in some curious matters of detail, to Epicurus. But it is,
however,
in the teachings of Pythagoras that we find the closest and most
frequent
identities of teachings and argumentation, explained as due to
Pythagoras
himself having visited India and learned his philosophy there, as
tradition
asserts. In later centuries we find some peculiarly Sânkhyan and
Buddhist
ideas playing a prominent part in Gnostic thought. The following
quotation
from Lassen, cited by Garbe on p. 97, shows this very clearly:
Buddhism
in general distinguishes clearly between Spirit and Light, and does not
regard
the latter as immaterial ; but a view of Light is found among them which
is
closely related to that of the Gnostics. According to this, Light is the
manifestation
of Spirit in matter ; the intelligence thus clothed in Light comes
into
relation with matter, in which the Light can be lessened and at last quite
obscured,
in which case the Intelligence falls finally into complete
unconsciousness.
Of
the highest Intelligence it is maintained that it is neither Light nor
Not-Light,
neither Darkness nor Not-Darkness, since all those expressions denote
relations
of the Intelligence to the Light, which indeed in the beginning was
free
from these connections, but later on encloses the Intelligence and mediates
its
connection with matter. It follows from this that the Buddhist view ascribes
to
the highest Intelligence the power to produce light from itself, and that in
this
respect also there is an agreement between Buddhism and Gnosticism.
Garbe
here points out that, as regards the features alluded to, the agreement
between
Gnosticism and Sânkhya is very much closer than that with Buddhism ; for
while
these views as to the relations between Light and Spirit pertain to the
later
phases of Buddhism, and are not at all fundamental to, or characteristic
of
it as such, the Sânkhya teaches clearly and precisely that Spirit is Light.
Later
still the influence of the Sânkhya thought is very plainly evident in the
Neo-Platonic
writers ; while the doctrine of the LOGOS or Word, though not of
Sânkhyan
origin, shows even in its details that it has been derived from India,
where
the conception of Vach, the Divine Word, plays so prominent a part in the
Brâhmanical
system.
Coming
to the Christian religion, contemporaneous with the Gnostic and
Neo-Platonic
systems, we shall find no difficulty in tracing most of the same
fundamental
teachings with which we have now become so familiar. The threefold
LOGOS
appears as the Trinity ; the First LOGOS, the fount of all life being the
Father
; the dual-natured Second LOGOS the Son, God-man ; the Third, the
creative
Mind, the Holy Ghost, whose brooding over the waters of chaos brought
forth
the worlds. Then comes "the seven Spirits of God" [Rev. iv. 5.] and
the
hosts
archangels and angels. Of the One Existence from which all comes and into
which
all returns, but little is hinted, the Nature that by searching cannot be
found
out ; but the great doctors of the Church Catholic always posit the
unfathomable
Deity, incomprehensible, infinite, and therefore necessarily but
One
and partless.
Man
is made in the "image of God," [Gen. I, 26-27] and is consequently
triple in
his
nature – Spirit and Soul and body, [1-Thess. V, 23] he is a "habitation of
God,"
[Eph. Ii, 22] the "temple of God," [ I Cor.,iii,16] the "temple
of the
Holy
Ghost," [ I Cor., vi, 19] – phrases that exactly echo the Hindu teaching.
The
doctrine of reincarnation is rather taken for granted in the New Testament
than
distinctly taught ; thus Jesus speaking of John the Baptist, declares that
he
is Elias "which was for to come." [ Matt. xi., 14] referring to the
words of
Malachi,
" I will send you Elijah the prophet", [ Mal., Iv, 5] and again, when
asked
as to Elijah coming before the Messiah, He answered that "Elias is come
already
and they knew him not." [ Matt. xvii, 12 ].So again we find the
disciples
taking reincarnation for granted in asking whether blindness from
birth
was a punishment for a man’s sin and Jesus in answer not rejecting the
possibility
of ante-natal sin, but only excluding it as causing the blindness in
the
special instance. [John, ix, 1-13 ] The remarkable phrase applied to "him
that
overcometh" in Rev. iii, 12, - that he shall be "a pillar in the
temple of
my
God, and he shall go no more out", has been taken as signifying escape
from
rebirth.
From the writings of some of the Christian Fathers a good case may be
made
our for a current belief in reincarnation ; some argue that only the
pre-existence
of the Soul is taught, but this view does not seem to me supported
by
the evidence.
The
unity of moral teaching is not less striking, than the unity of the
conceptions
of the universe and of the experiences of those who rose out of the
prison
of the body into the freedom of the higher spheres. It is clear that this
body
of primeval teaching was in the hands of definite custodians, who had
schools
in which they taught, disciples who studied their doctrines. The
identity
of these schools and of their discipline stands out plainly when we
study
the moral teaching, the demands made on the pupils, and the mental and
spiritual
states to which they were raised. A caustic division is made in the
Tao
Teh Ching of the types of scholars:
Scholars
of the highest class when they hear about the Tao, earnestly carry it
into
practice. Scholars of the middle class, when they have hears about it, seem
now
to keep it and now to lose it. Scholars of the lowest class, when they have
heard
about it, laugh greatly at it (Sacred Books of the East, xxxix, op. Cit.,
xli,
1).
In
the same book we read:
The
sage puts his own person last, and yet it is found in the foremost place; he
treats
his person as if it were foreign to him, and yet that person is
preserved.
It is not because he has no personal and private ends that therefore
such
ends are realised? (vii,2) – He is free from self-display, and therefore he
shines;
from self-assertion, and therefore he is distinguished ; from
self-boasting,
and therefore his merit is acknowledged, from self-complacency,
and
therefore he acquires superiority. It is because he is thus free from
striving
that therefore no one in the world is able to strive with him (xxii,
2).
There is no guilt greater than to sanction ambition ; no calamity greater
than
to be discontented with one’s lot ; no fault greater than the wish to be
getting
(xlvi,2). To those who are good (to me) I am good ; and to those who are
not
good (to me) I am also good ; and thus all get to be good. To those who are
sincere
(with me) I am sincere; and to those who are not sincere (with me) I am
also
sincere ; and thus (all) get to be sincere (xlix, 1). He who has in himself
abundantly
the attributes (of the Tâo ) is like an infant. Poisonous insects
will
not sting him ; fierce beasts will not seize him ; birds of prey will not
strike
him – ( lv, 1), I have three precious things which I prize and hold fast.
The
first is gentleness ; the second is economy ; the third is shrinking from
taking
precedence of others …Gentleness is sure to be victorious, even in
battle,
and firmly to maintain its ground. Heaven will save its possessor, by
his
(very) gentleness protecting him (lxvii,2,4).
Among
the Hindus there were selected scholars deemed worthy of special
instruction
to whom the Guru imparted the secret teachings, while the general
rules
of right living may be gathered from Manu’s Ordinances, the Upanishads,
the
Mahâbhârata and many other treatises:
Let
him say what is true, let him say what is pleasing, let him utter no
disagreeable
truth, and let him utter no agreeable falsehood ; that is the
eternal
law (Manu, iv, 138). Giving no pain to any creature, let him slowly
accumulate
spiritual merit (iv, 238). For that twice-born man, by whom not the
smallest
danger even is caused to created beings, there will be no danger from
any
(quarter) after he is freed from his body (vi, 40). Let him patiently bear
hard
words, let him not insult anybody, and let him not become anybody’s enemy
for
the sake of this (perishable) body. Against an angry man let him not in
return
show anger, let him bless when he is cursed (vi, 47-48). Freed from
passion,
fear and anger, thinking on Me, taking refuge in Me, purified in the
fire
of Wisdom, many have entered My Being (Bhagavad Gitâ , iv, 10). Supreme joy
is
for the Yogi whose Manas is peaceful, whose passion-nature is calmed, who is
sinless
and of the nature of Brahman (iv, 27). He who beareth no ill-will to any
being,
friendly and compassionate, without attachment and egoism, balanced in
pleasure
and pain, and forgiving, ever content, harmonious, with the self
controlled,
resolute, with Manas and Buddhi dedicated to Me – he, My devotee, is
dear
to Me (xii,13,14)
If
we turn to the Buddha, we find Him with His Arhats, to whom His secret
teachings
were given ; while published we have:
The
wise man through earnestness, virtue, and purity makes himself an island
which
no flood can submerge (Udânavarga, iv, 5 ). The wise man in this world
holds
fast to faith and wisdom, these are his greatest treasures ; he cast aside
all
other riches, (x 9). He who bears ill-will to those who bear ill-will can
never
become pure ; but he who feels no ill-will pacifies those who hate ; as
hatred
brings misery to mankind, the sage knows no hatred (xiii, 12). Overcome
anger
by not being angered ; overcome evil by good ; overcome avarice by
liberality
; overcome falsehoods by truth (xx,18).
The
Zoroastrian is taught to praise Ahuramazda, and then:
What
is fairest, what is pure, what immortal, what brilliant, all that is good.
The
good spirit we honor, the good kingdom we honor, and the good law, and the
good
wisdom (Yasna, xxxvii). May there come to this dwelling contentment,
blessing,
guilelessness, and wisdom of the pure (Yasna, lix). Purity is the best
good.
Happiness, happiness is to him ; namely, to the best pure in purity
(Ashem-vohu).
All good thoughts, words, and works are done with knowledge. All
evil
thoughts, words, and works are not done with knowledge (Mispa Kumata). (
Selected
from the Avesta in Ancient Iranian and Zoroastrian Morals, by
Dhunjibhoy
Jamsetji Medhora).
The
Hebrew had his "schools of the prophets" and his Kabbalah, and in the
exoteric
books we find the accepted moral teachings:
Who
shall ascend into the hill of the Lord and who shall stand in His holy
place?
He that hath clean hands and a pure heart ; who hath not lifted up his
soul
unto vanity, not sworn deceitfully (Ps. xxiv,3,4). What doth the Lord
require
of thee but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy
God?
(Micah,vi,8). The lip of truth shall be established for ever ; but a lying
tongue
is but for a moment (Prov. xii, 19). Is not this the fast that I have
chosen?
to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let
the
oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke? Is it not to deal thy bread
to
the hungry and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy home? when
thou
seest the naked that thou cover him, and that thou hide not thyself from
thine
own flesh? (Isa. lviii,6,7).
The
Christian teacher had His secret instructions for His disciples, (Matt.
xiii,
10-17) – and He bade them:
Give
not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before
swine
(Matt. vii, 6).
For
public teaching we may refer to the beatitudes in the Sermon on the Mount
and
to such doctrines as:
I
say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them
that
hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute
you….Be
ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect
(Matt.
v, 44-48). He that findeth his life shall lose it ; and he that loseth
his
life for my sake shall find it (x,39). Whoever shall humble himself as this
little
child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven (xviii, 4). The
fruit
of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness,
faith,
meekness, temperance ; against such there is no law (Gal., v, 22-23). Let
us
love one another ; for love is of God ; and everyone that loveth is born of
God
and knoweth God ( I John iv, 7 ).
The
school of the Pythagoras and those of the Neo-Platonists kept up the
tradition
for Greece, and we know that Pythagoras gained some of his learning in
India,
while Plato studied, and was initiated in the schools of Egypt. More
precise
information has been published of the Grecian schools than of others ;
the
Pythagorean had pledged disciples as well as an outer discipline, the inner
circle
passing through three degrees during five years of probation. (For
details
see G.R.S. Mead’s Orpheus, p. 263 et. Seq.). The outer discipline he
describes
as follows:
We
must first give ourselves up entirely to God. When a man prays he should
never
ask for any particular benefit, fully convinced that that will be given
which
is right and proper, and according to the wisdom of God and not the
subject
of our own selfish desires (Diod. Sic. ix, 41). By virtue alone does man
arrive
at blessedness, and this is the exclusive privilege of a rational being
(Hippodamus,
De Felicitate, ii, Orelli, Opusc. Græcor. Sent. et Moral., Ii,
284).
In himself, of his own nature, man is neither good nor happy, but he may
become
so by the teaching of the true doctrine (µa??s??? ?a?? p?????a?
p?t?d?eta?)
– (Hippo, ibid.).
The
most sacred duty is filial piety. "God showers his blessings on him who
honors
and reveres the author of his days," says Pampelus (De Parentibus,
Orelli,
op. Cit., ii, 345). Ingratitude towards one’s parents is the blackest of
all
crimes, writes Perictione ( ibid.,p. 350), who is supposed to have been the
mother
of Plato. The cleanliness and delicacy of all Pythagorean writings were
remarkable
(Œlian, Hist. Var., xiv,19). In all that concerns chastity and
marriage
their principles are of the utmost purity. Everywhere the great teacher
recommends
chastity and temperance ; but at the same time he directs that the
married
should first become parents before living a life of absolute celibacy,
in
order that children might be born under favourable conditions for continuing
the
holy life and succession of the Sacred Science (Iamblichus, Vit. Pythag.,
and
Hierocl., ap. Stob. Serm. xlv, 14). This is exceedingly interesting, for it
is
precisely the same regulation that is laid down in the Mânava Dharma Shâstra,
the
great Indian Code. …Adultery was most sternly condemned (Iamb., ibid.).
Moreover,
the most gentle treatment of the wife by the husband was enjoined, for
had
he not taken her as his companion "before the Gods"? (See Lascaulx.
Zur
Geschichte
der Ehe bei den Griechen, in the Mém. De l’Acad. De Bavière, vii,
107,sq.).
Marriage
was not an animal union, but a spiritual tie. Therefore, in her turn,
the
wife should love her husband even more than herself, and in all things be
devoted
and obedient. It is further interesting to remark that the finest
characters
among women with which ancient Greece presents us were formed in the
school
of Pythagoras, and the same is true of the men.
The
authors of antiquity are agreed that this discipline had succeeded in
producing
the highest examples not only of the purest chastity and sentiment,
but
also a simplicity of manners, a delicacy, and a taste for serious pursuits
which
was unparalleled. This is admitted even by Christian writers (See Justin,
xx,
4)…Among the members of the school the idea of justice directed all their
acts,
while they observed the strictest tolerance and compassion in their mutual
relationships.
For justice is the principle of all virtue, as Polus, (ap. Stob.,
Serm.,
viii, ed. Schow, p. 232) teaches ; "’tis justice which maintains peace
and
balance in the soul ; she is the mother of good order in all communities,
makes
concord between husband and wife, love between master and servant.’ The
word
of a Pythagorean: was also his bond. And finally a man should live so as to
be
ever ready for death ( Hippolytus, Philos., vi). (ibid., p. 263-267).
The
treatment of the virtues in the Neo-Platonic schools is interesting, and the
distinction
is clearly made between morality and spiritual development, or as
Plotinus
put it, "The endeavour is not to be without sin, but to be of God."
(Select
Works of Plotinus, trans. Thomas Taylor, ed., 1895, p. 11).The lowest
stage
was becoming without sin by acquiring the "political virtues" which
made a
man
perfect in conduct (the physical and ethical being below these), the reason
controlling
and adorning the irrational nature. Above these were the cathartic,
pertaining
to reason alone, and which liberated the Soul from the bonds of
generation
; the theoretic , lifting the Soul into touch with natures superior
to
itself;and the paradigmatic, giving it a knowledge of true being:
Hence
he who energises according to the practical virtues is a worthy man; but
he
who energises according to the cathartic virtues is a demoniacal man, or is
also
a good demon. (A good spiritual intelligence, as the daimon of Socrates).
He
who energises according to the intellectual virtues alone is a God. But he
who
energises according to the paradigmatic virtues is the Father of the Gods.
(Note
on Intellectual Prudence, pp. 325-332).
By
various practices the disciples were taught to escape from the body, and to
rise
into higher regions. As grass is drawn from a sheath, the inner man was to
draw
himself from his bodily casing ( Kathopanishad, vi,17). The "body of
light"
or
"radiant body" of the Hindus is the "luciform body" of the
Neo-Plationists,
and
in this man rises to find the Self:
Not
grasped by the eye, nor by speech, nor by the others senses (lit., Gods),
nor
by austerity, nor by religious rites ; by serene wisdom, by the pure essence
only,
doth one see the partless One in meditation. This subtle Self is to be
known
by the mind in which the fivefold life is sleeping. The mind of all
creatures
is instinct with [these] lives ; in this, purified, manifests the Self
(
Mundakopanishad, III, ii, 8,9).
Then
alone can man enter the region where separation is not, where "the spheres
have
ceased." In G.R.S.Mead’s Introduction to Taylor’s Plotinus, he quotes from
Plotinus
a description of a sphere which is evidently the Turîya of the Hindus:
They
likewise see all things, not those with which generation, but those with
which
essence is present. And they perceive themselves in others. For all things
there,
are diaphanous; and nothing is dark and resisting, but everything is
apparent
to every one internally and throughout. For light everywhere meets with
light
; since everything contains all things in itself and again see all things
in
another. So that all things are everywhere and all is all. Each thing
likewise
is everything. And the splendor there is infinite. For everything there
is
great, since even that which is small is great. The sun too which is there is
all
the stars; and again each star is the sun and all the stars. In each
however,
a different property predominates, but at the same time all things are
visible
in each. Motion likewise there is pure; for the motion is not confounded
by
a mover different from it (p. lxxiii).
A
description which is a failure, because the region is one above describing by
mortal
language, but a description that could only have been written by one
whose
eyes had been opened.
A
whole volume might easily be filled with the similarities between the
religions
of the world, but the above imperfect statement must suffice as a
preface
to the study of Theosophy,
to that which is a fresh and fuller
presentment
to the world of the ancient truths on which it has ever been fed.
all
these similarities point to a single source, and that is the Brotherhood of
the
White Lodge, the Hierarchy of Adepts who watch over and guide the evolution
of
humanity, and who have preserved these truths unimpaired ; from time to time,
as
necessity arose, reasserting them in the ears of men. From other worlds, from
earlier
humanities, They came to help our globe, evolved by a process comparable
to
that now going on with ourselves, and that will be more intelligible when we
have
completed our present study than it may now appear ; and They have afforded
this
help, reinforced by the flower of our own humanity, from the earliest times
until
today.
Still
They teach eager pupils, showing the path and guiding the disciple’s steps
;
still They may be reached by all who seek Them, bearing in their hands the
sacrificial
fuel of love, of devotion, of unselfish longing to know in order to
serve
; still They carry out the ancient discipline, still unveil the ancient
Mysteries.
The two pillars of Their Lodge gateway are Love and Wisdom, and
through
its straight portal can only pass those from whose shoulders has fallen
the
burden of desire and selfishness.
A
heavy task lies before us, and beginning on the physical plane we shall climb
slowly
upwards, but a bird’s eye view of the great sweep of evolution and of its
purpose
may help us, ere we begin our detailed study in the world that surrounds
us.
A LOGOS, ere a system has begun to be, has in His mind the whole, existing
as
idea – all forces, all forms, all that in due process shall emerge into
objective
life. He draws the circle of manifestation within which He wills to
energise,
and circumscribes Himself to be the life of His universe. As we watch
we
see strata appearing of successive densities, till seven vast regions are
apparent,
and in these centres of energy appear whirlpools of matter that
separate
from each other, until when the processes of separation and of
condensation
are over – so far as we are here concerned – we see a central sun,
the
physical symbol of the LOGOS, and seven planetary chains, each chain
consisting
of seven globes.
Narrowing
down our view to the chain of which our globe is one, we see
life-waves
sweep round i, forming the kingdoms of nature, the three elemental,
the
mineral, vegetable, animal, human. Narrowing down our view still further to
our
own globe and its surroundings, we watch human evolution, and see man
developing
self-consciousness by a series of many life-periods ; then centering
on
a single man we trace his growth and see that each life-period has a
threefold
division that each is linked to all life-periods behind it reaping
their
results, and to all life-periods before it sowing their harvests, by a law
that
cannot be broken ; that thus man may climb upwards with each life-period
adding
to his experience, each life-period lifting him higher in purity, in
devotion,
in intellect, in power of usefulness, until at last he stands where
They
stand who are now the Teachers, fit, to pay to his younger brothers the
debt
he owes to Them.
THE
PHYSICAL PLANE
We
have just seen that the source from which a universe proceeds is a manifested
Divine
Being, to whom in the modern form of the Ancient Wisdom the name LOGOS,
or
Word has been given. The name is drawn from Greek Philosophy, but perfectly
expresses
the ancient idea, the Word which emerges from the Silence, the Voice,
the
Sound, by which the worlds come into being. We must now trace the evolution
of
spirit-matter, in order that we may understand something of the nature of the
materials
with which we have to deal on the physical plane, or physical world.
For
it is in the potentialities wrapped up, involved, in the spirit-matter of
the
physical world that lies the possibility of evolution. The whole process is
an
unfolding, self-moved from within and aided by intelligent beings without,
who
can retard or quicken evolution, but cannot transcend the capacities
inherent
in the materials. Some idea of these earliest stages of the world’s
"becoming"
is therefore necessary, although any attempt to go into minute
details
would carry us far beyond the limits of such an elementary treatise as
the
present. A very cursory sketch must suffice.
Coming
forth from the depths of the One Existence, from the ONE beyond all
thought
and all speech, a LOGOS, by imposing on Himself a limit, circumscribing
voluntarily
the range of His own Being, becomes the manifested God, and tracing
the
limiting sphere of His activity thus outlines the area of His universe.
Within
that sphere the universe is born, is evolved, and dies ; it lives, it
moves,
it has its being in Him ; its matter is His emanation ; its forces and
energies
are currents of His Life ; He is immanent in every atom, all-pervading,
all-sustaining,
all-evolving ; He is its source and its end, its cause and its
object,
its centre and circumference ; it is built on Him as its sure
foundation,
it breathes in Him as its encircling space ; He is in everything and
everything
in Him. Thus have the sages of the Ancient Wisdom taught us of the
beginning
of the manifested worlds.
From
the same source we learn of the Self-unfolding of the LOGOS into a
threefold
form ; the First LOGOS, the Root of all being ; from Him the Second,
manifesting
the two aspects of Life and Form, the primal duality, making the two
poles
of nature between which the web of the universe is to be woven –
Life-Form,
Spirit-Matter, Positive-Negative, Active-Receptive, Father-Mother of
the
worlds. Then the Third LOGOS, the Universal Mind, that in which all
archetypically
exists, the source of beings, the fount of fashioning energies,
the
treasure house in which are stored up all the archetypal forms which are to
be
brought forth and elaborated in lower kinds of matter during the evolution of
the
universe. These are the fruits of past universes, brought over as seeds for
the
present.
The
phenomenal spirit and matter of any universe are finite in their extent and
transitory
in their duration, but the roots of spirit and matter are eternal.
The
root of matter (Mulâprakriti ) has been said by a profound writer to be
visible
to the LOGOS as a veil thrown over the One existence, the supreme
Brahman
(Parabrahman) –to use the ancient name.
It
is this "veil" which the LOGOS assumes for the purpose of
manifestation,
using
it for the self-imposed limit which makes activity possible. From this He
elaborates
the matter of His universe, being Himself its informing, guiding, and
controlling
life. ( Hence He is called "The Lord of Mâyâ" in some Eastern
Scriptures,
Mâyâ, or illusion, being the principle of form; form is regarded as
illusory,
from its transitory nature and perpetual transformations, the life
which
expresses itself under the veil of form being the reality).
Of
what occurs on the two higher planes of the universe, the seventh and sixth,
we
can form but the haziest conception. The energy of the LOGOS as whirling
motion
of inconceivable rapidity "digs holes in space" in this root matter,
and
this
vortex of life encased in a film of the root of matter is the primary atom;
these
and their aggregations, spread throughout the universe, form all the
subdivisions
of spirit-matter of the highest or seventh plane. The sixth plane
is
formed by some of the countless myriads of these primary atoms, setting up a
vortex
in the coarsest aggregations of their own plane, and this primary atom
en-walled
with spiral strands of the coarsest combinations of the seventh plane
becomes
the finest unit of spirit-matter, or atom of the sixth plane. These
sixth
plane atoms and their endless combinations form the subdivisions of the
spirit-matter
of the sixth plane.
The
sixth-plane-atom, in its turn, sets up a vortex in the coarsest aggregations
of
its own plane, and, with these coarsest aggregations as a limiting wall,
becomes
the finest unit of spirit-matter, or atom, of the fifth plane. Again,
these
fifth-plane atoms, and their combinations form the subdivisions of the
spirit-matter
of the fifth plane. The process is repeated to form successively
the
spirit-matter of the fourth, the third, the second, and the first planes.
These
are the seven great regions of the universe, so far as their material
constituents
are concerned. A clearer idea of them will be gained by analogy
when
we come to master the modifications of the spirit-matter of our own
physical
world.
(The
student may find the conception clearer if he thinks of the fifth plane
atoms
as Atma ; those of the fourth plane as Atma enveloped in Buddhi-matter ;
those
of the third plane as Atma enveloped in Buddhi and Manas-matter ; those of
the
second plane as Atma enveloped in Buddhi-Manas- and Kama-matter ; those of
the
lowest as Atma enveloped in Buddhi-Manas-Kama and Sthûla-matter. Only the
outermost
is active in each, but the inner are there, though latent, ready to
come
into activity on the upward arc of evolution).
The
world "spirit-matter" is used designedly. At implies the fact that
there is
no
such thing as "dead" matter ; all matter is living, the tiniest
particles are
lives.
Science speaks truly in affirming: "No force without matter, no matter
without
force." They are wedded together in an indissoluble marriage throughout
the
ages of the life of a universe, and none can wrench them apart. Matter is
form,
and there is no form which does not express a life ; spirit is life, and
there
is no life that is not limited by form. Even the LOGOS, the Supreme Lord,
has
during manifestation the universe as His form, and so down to the atom.
This
involution of the life of the LOGOS as the ensouling force in every
particle,
and its successive enwrapping in the spirit-matter of every plane, so
that
the materials of each plane have within them in a hidden, or latent
condition,
all the form and force possibilities of all the planes above them as
well
as those of their own – these two facts make evolution certain and give to
the
very lowest particle the hidden potentialities which will render it fit – as
they
become active powers – to enter into the forms of the highest beings. In
fact,
evolution may be summed up in a phrase: it is latent potentialities
becoming
active powers.
The
second great wave of evolution, the evolution of form, and the third great
wave,
the evolution of self-consciousness, will be dealt with later on. These
three
currents of evolution are distinguishable on our earth in connection with
humanity
; the making of the materials, the building of the house, and the
growing
of the tenant of the house, or, as said above, the evolution of
spirit-matter,
the evolution of form, the evolution of self-consciousness.If the
reader
can grasp and retain this idea, he will find a helpful clue to guide him
through
the labyrinth of facts.
We
can now turn to the detailed examination of the physical plane, that on which
our
world exists and to which our bodies belong.
Examining
the materials belonging to this plane, we are struck by their immense
variety,
the innumerable differences of constitution in the objects around us,
minerals,
vegetables, animals, all differing in their constituents: matter hard
and
soft, transparent and opaque, brittle and ductile, bitter and sweet,
pleasant
and nauseous, coloured and colourless. Out of this confusion three
subdivisions
of matter emerge as a fundamental classification: matter is solid,
liquid,
gaseous. Further examination shows that these solids, liquids and gases
are
made up by combinations of much simpler bodies, called by chemists
"elements,"
and that these elements may exist in a solid, liquid, or gaseous
condition
without changing their respective natures.
Thus
the chemical element oxygen is a constituent of wood, and in combination
with
other elements forms the solid wood fibres ; it exists in the sap with
another
element, yielding a liquid combination as water ; and it exists also in
it
by itself as gas. Under these three conditions it is oxygen. Further , pure
oxygen
can be reduced from a gas to a liquid, and from a liquid to a solid,
remaining
pure oxygen all the time, and so with other elements. We thus obtain
as
three subdivisions, or conditions of matter on the physical plane, solid,
liquid,
gas. Searching further, we find a fourth condition, ether, and a minute
search
reveals that this ether exists in four conditions as well defined as
those
of solid, liquid and gas ; to take oxygen again as an example: as it may
be
reduced from the gaseous condition to the liquid and the solid, so it may be
raised
from the gaseous through four etheric stages the last of which consists
of
the ultimate physical atom, the disintegration of the atom taking matter out
of
the physical plane altogether, and into the next plane above.
In
the annexed plate three gases are shown in the gaseous and four etheric
states
; it will be observed that the structure of the ultimate physical atom is
the
same for all, and that the variety of the "elements" is due to the
variety
of
ways in which these ultimate physical atoms combine. Thus the seventh
subdivision
of physical spirit-matter is composed of homogeneous atoms ; the
sixth
is composed of fairly simple heterogeneous combinations of these, each
combination
behaving as a unit ; the fifth is composed of more complex
combinations,
and the fourth of still more complex ones, but in all cases these
combinations
act as units .
The
third subdivision consists of yet more complicated combinations, regarded by
the
chemist as gaseous atoms or "elements," and on this subdivision many
of the
combinations
have received special names, oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, chlorine,
etc.,
and each newly discovered combination now receives its name ; the second
subdivision
consists of combinations in the liquid condition, whether regarded
as
elements such as bromine, or as combinations such as water or alcohol ; the
first
subdivision is composed of all solids, again whether regarded as elements,
such
as iodine, gold, lead, etc., or as compounds, such as wood, stone, chalk,
and
so on.
The
physical plane may serve the student as a model from which by analogy he may
gain
an idea of the subdivisions of spirit-matter of other planes. When a
Theosophist
speaks of a plane, he means a region throughout which spirit-matter
exists,
all whose combinations are derived from a particular set of atoms; these
atoms,
in turn, are units possessing similar organisations, whose life is the
life
of the LOGOS veiled in fewer or more coverings according to the plane, and
whose
form consists of the solid, or lowest subdivision of matter, of the plane
immediately
above. A plane is thus a division in nature, as well as a
metaphysical
idea.
Thus
far we have been studying the results in our own physical world of the
evolution
of spirit-matter in our division of the first or lowest plane of our
system.
For countless ages the fashioning of materials has been going on, the
current
of the evolution of spirit-matter, and in the materials of our globe we
see
the outcome at the present time. But when we begin to study the inhabitants
of
the physical plane, we come to the evolution of form, ( ) the building of
organisms
out of these materials.
When
the evolution of materials had reached a sufficiently advanced state, the
second
great life-wave from the LOGOS gave the impulse to the evolution of form,
and
He became the organising force (As Âtmâ-Buddhi, indivisible in action, and
therefore
spoken of as the Monad. All forms have Âtmâ-Buddhi as controlling
life.)
- of His Universe, countless hosts of entities, entitled Builders -- (
Some
are lofty spiritual Intelligences, but the name covers even the building
Nature-spirits
The subject is dealt with in Chapter XII ) - taking part in the
building
up of forms out of combinations of spirit-matter. The life of the LOGOS
abiding
in each form is its central, controlling, and directing energy.
This
building of forms on the higher planes cannot here be conveniently studied
in
detail; it may suffice to say that all forms exist as Ideas in the mind of
the
LOGOS, and that in this second life-wave these were thrown outwards as
models
to guide the Builders. On the third and second planes the early
spirit-matter
combinations are designed to give it facility in assuming shapes
organised
to act as units, and gradually to increase its stability when shaped
into
an organism.
This
process went on upon the third and second planes, in what are termed the
three
elemental kingdoms, the combinations of matter formed therein being called
generally
"elemental essence," and this essence being moulded into forms by
aggregations,
the forms enduring for a time and then disintegrating. The
outpoured
life, or Monad, evolved through these kingdoms and reached in due
course
the physical plane, where it began to draw together the ethers and hold
them
in filmy shapes, in which life-currents played and into which the denser
materials
were built, forming the first minerals. In these are beautifully shown
–
as may be seen by reference to any book on crystallurgy – the numerical and
geometrical
lines on which forms are constructed, and from them may be gathered
plentiful
evidence that life is working in all minerals, although much "cribbed,
cabined,
and confined." The fatigue to which metals are subject is another sign
that
they are living things, but it is here enough to say that the occult
doctrine
so regards them, knowing the already-mentioned processes by which life
has
been involved in them.
Great
stability of form having been gained in many of the minerals, the evolving
Monad
elaborated greater plasticity of form in the vegetable kingdom, combining
this
with stability of organisation. These characteristics found a yet more
balanced
expression in the animal world, and reached their culmination of
equilibrium
in man, whose physical body is made up of constituents of most
unstable
equilibrium, thus giving great adaptability, and yet which is held
together
by a combining central force which resists general disintegration even
under
the most varied conditions.
Man’s
physical body has two main divisions: the dense body, made of constituents
from
the three lower levels of the physical plane, solids, liquids, and gases:
and
the etheric double, violet-gray or blue-gray in colour, interpenetrating the
dense
body and composed of materials drawn from the four higher levels. The
general
function of the physical body is to receive contacts from the physical
world,
and send the report of them inwards, to serve as materials from which the
conscious
entity inhabiting the body is to elaborate knowledge. Its etheric
portion
has also the duty of acting as a medium through which the life-currents
poured
out from the sun can be adapted to the uses of the denser particles.
The
sun is the great reservoir of the electrical, magnetic, and vital forces for
our
system, and it pours out abundantly these streams of life-giving energy.
They
are taken in by the etheric doubles of all minerals, vegetables, animals,
and
men, and are by them transmuted into the various life-energies needed by
each
entity. ( When thus appropriated the life is called Prana, and it becomes
the
life-breath of every creature. Prana is but a name for the universal life
while
it is taken in by an entity and is supporting its separated life.)
The
etheric doubles draw in, specialise, and distribute them over their physical
counterparts.
It has been observed that in vigorous health much more of the
life-energies
are transmuted than the physical body requires for its own
support,
and that the surplus is rayed out and is taken up and utilised by the
weaker.
What is technically called the health aura is the part of the etheric
double
that extends a few inches from the whole surface of the body and shows
radiating
lines, like the radii of a sphere, going outwards in all directions.
These
lines droop when vitality is diminished below the point of health, and
resume
their radiating character with renewed vigour. It is this vital energy,
specialised
by the etheric double, which is poured out by the mesmeriser for the
restoration
of the weak and for the cure of disease, although he often mingles
with
it currents of a more rarefied kind. Hence the depletion of vital energy
shown
by the exhaustion of the mesmeriser who prolongs his work to excess.
Man’s
body is fine or coarse in its texture according to the materials drawn
from
the physical plane for its composition. Each subdivision of matter yields
finer
or coarser materials ; compare the bodies of a butcher and of a refined
student
; both have solids in them, but solids of such different qualities.
Further
, we know that a coarse body can be refined, a refined body coarsened.
The
body is constantly changing ; each particle is a life, and the lives come
and
go. They are drawn to a body consonant with themselves, they are repelled
from
one discordant with themselves. All things live in rhythmical vibrations,
all
seek the harmonious and are repelled by dissonance.
A
pure body repels coarse particles because they vibrate at rates discordant
with
its own ; a coarse body attracts them because their vibrations accord with
its
own. Hence if the body changes its rates of vibration, it gradually drives
out
of it the constituents that cannot fall into the new rhythm, and fills up
their
places by drawing in from external nature fresh constituents that are
harmonious.
Nature provides materials vibrating in all possible ways, and each
body
exercises its own selective action.
In
the earlier building of human bodies this selective action was due to the
Monad
of form, but now that man is a self-conscious entity he presides over his
own
building. By his thoughts he strikes the keynote of his music, and sets up
the
rhythms that are the most powerful factors in the continual changes in his
physical
and other bodies. As his knowledge increases he learns how to build up
his
physical body with pure food, and so facilitates the tuning of it. He learns
to
live by the axiom of purification: "Pure food, pure mind, and constant
memory
of
God." As the highest creature living on the physical plane, he is the
vice-regent
of the LOGOS thereon, responsible, so far as his powers extend, for
its
order, peace, and good government ; and this duty he cannot discharge
without
these three requisites.
The
physical body, thus composed of elements drawn from all the subdivisions of
the
physical plane, is fitted to receive and to answer impression from it of
every
kind. Its first contacts will be of the simplest and crudest sorts, and as
the
life within it thrills out in answer to the stimulus from without, throwing
its
molecules into responsive vibrations, there is developed all over the body
the
sense of touch, the recognition of something coming into contact with it. As
specialised
sense-organs are developed to receive special kinds of vibrations,
the
value of the body increases as a future vehicle for a conscious entity on
the
physical plane. The more impressions it can answer to, the more useful does
it
become ; for only those to which it can answer can reach the consciousness.
Even
now there are myriads of vibrations pulsing around us in physical nature
from
the knowledge of which we are shut out because of the inability of our
physical
vehicle to receive and vibrate in accord with them. Unimagined
beauties,
exquisite sounds, delicate subtleties, touch the walls of our prison
house
and pass on unheeded. Not yet is developed the perfect body that shall
thrill
to every pulse in nature as the aeolian harp to the zephyr.
The
vibrations that the body is able to receive, it transmits to physical
centres,
belonging to its highly complicated nervous system. The etheric
vibrations
which accompany all the vibrations of the denser physical
constituents
are similarly received by the etheric double, and transmuted to its
corresponding
centres. Most of the vibrations in the dense matter are changed
into
chemical heat, and other forms of physical energy; the etheric give rise to
magnetic
and electric action, and also pass on the vibrations to the astral
body,
whence, as we shall see later, they reach the mind.
Thus
information about the external world reaches the conscious entity enthroned
in
the body, the Lord of the body, as he is sometimes called. As the channels of
information
develop and are exercised, the conscious entity grows by the
materials
supplied to his thought by them, but so little is man yet developed
that
even the etheric double is not yet sufficiently harmonised to regularly
convey
to the man impressions received by it independently of its denser
comrade,
or to impress them on his brain. Occasionally it succeeds in doing so,
and
then we have the lowest form of clairvoyance, the seeing of the etheric
doubles
of physical objects, and of things that have etheric bodies as their
lowest
vesture.
Man
dwells, as we shall see, in various vehicles, physical, astral, and mental
and
it is important to know and remember that as we are evolving upwards, the
lowest
of the vehicles, the dense physical, is that which consciousness first
controls
and rationalises. The physical brain is the instrument of consciousness
in
waking life on the physical plane, and consciousness works in it – in the
undeveloped
man – more effectively than in any other vehicle. Its potentialities
are
less than those of the subtler vehicles, but its actualities are greater,
and
the man knows himself as " I " in the physical body ere he finds
himself
elsewhere.
Even if he be more highly developed than the average man, he can only
show
as much of himself down here as the physical organism permits, for
consciousness
can manifest on the physical plane only so much as the physical
vehicle
can carry.
The
dense and etheric bodies are not normally separated during earth life; they
normally
function together, as the lower and higher strings of a single
instrument
when a chord is struck, but they also carry on separate though
coordinated
activities. Under conditions of weak health or nervous excitement
the
etheric double may in great part be abnormally extruded from its dense
counterpart
; the latter then becomes very dully conscious , or entranced,
according
to the less or greater amount of the etheric matter extruded.
Anesthetics
drive out the greater part of the etheric double, so that
consciousness
cannot affect or be affected by the dense body, its bridge of
communication
being broken. In the abnormally organised person called mediums,
dislocation
of the etheric and dense bodies easily occurs, and the etheric
double,
when extruded, largely supplies the physical basis for
"materialisations."
In
sleep, when the consciousness leaves the physical vehicle which it uses
during
waking life, the dense and etheric bodies remain together, but in the
physical
dream life they function to some extent independently. Impressions
experienced
during waking life are reproduced by the automatic action of the
body,
and both the physical and etheric brains are filled with disjointed
fragmentary
pictures, the vibrations as it were, jostling each other, and
causing
the most grotesque combinations. Vibrations from outside also affect
both,
and combinations often set up during waking life are easily called into
activity
by currents from the astral world of like nature with themselves. The
purity
or impurity of waking thoughts will largely govern the pictures arising
in
dreams, whether spontaneously set up or induced from without.
At
what is called death, the etheric double is drawn away from its dense
counterpart
by the escaping consciousness ; the magnetic tie existing between
them
during life earth life is snapped asunder, and for some hours the
consciousness
remains enveloped in this etheric garb. In this it sometimes
appears
to those with whom it is closely bound up, as a cloudy figure, very
dully
conscious and speechless – the wraith. It may also be seen, after the
conscious
entity has deserted it, floating over the grave where its dense
counterpart
is buried, slowly disintegrating as time goes on.
When
the time comes for rebirth, the etheric double is built in advance of the
dense
body, the latter exactly following it in its ante-natal development. These
bodies
may be said to trace the limitations within which the conscious entity
will
have to live and work during his life, a subject that will be more fully
explained
in Chapter IX on Karma.
THE
ASTRAL PLANE
The
astral plane is the region of the universe next to the physical, if the word
"next"
may be permitted in such a connection. Life there is more active than on
the
physical plane, and form is more plastic. The spirit-matter of that plane is
more
highly vitalised and finer than any grade of spirit-matter in the physical
world.
For , as we have seen, the ultimate physical atom, the constituent of the
rarest
physical ether, has for its sphere-wall innumerable aggregations of the
coarsest
astral matter. The word "next" is, however, inappropriate, as
suggesting
the idea that the planes of the universe are arranged as concentric
circles,
one ending where the next begins. Rather they are concentric
interpenetrating
spheres, not separated from each other by distance but by
difference
of constitution. As air permeates water, as ether permeates the
densest
solid, so does astral matter permeate all physical. The astral world is
above
us, below us, on every side of us, through us; we live and move in it, but
it
is intangible, invisible, inaudible, imperceptible, because the prison of the
physical
body shuts us away from it, the physical particles being too gross to
be
set in vibration by astral matter.
In
this chapter we shall study the plane in its general aspects, leaving on one
side
for separate consideration those special conditions of life on the astral
plane
surrounding the human entities who are passing through it on their way
from
earth to heaven. ( Devachan, the happy or bright state, is the Theosophical
name
for heaven. Kâmaloka, the place of desire, is the name given to the
conditions
of intermediate life on the astral plane).
The
spirit-matter of the astral plane exists in seven subdivisions, as we have
seen
in the spirit-matter of the physical. There, as here, there are numberless
combinations,
forming the astral solids, liquids, gases, and ethers. But most
material
forms there have a brightness, a translucency, as compared to forms
here,
which have caused the epithet astral, or starry, to be applied to them –
an
epithet which is, on the whole, misleading, but is too firmly established by
use
to be changed. As there are no specific names for the subdivisions of astral
spirit-matter,
we may use the terrestrial designations. The main idea to be
grasped
is that astral objects are combinations of astral matter, as physical
objects
are combinations of physical matter, and that the astral world scenery
much
resembles that of earth in consequence of its being largely made up of the
astral
duplicates of physical objects.
One
peculiarity, however, arrests and confuses the untrained observer; partly
because
of the translucency of astral objects, and partly because of the nature
of
astral vision – consciousness being less hampered by the finer astral matter
than
when encased in the terrestrial – everything is transparent, its back is
visible
as its front, its inside as its outside. Some experience is needed,
therefore,
ere objects are correctly seen, and a person who has developed astral
vision,
but has not yet had much experience in its use, is apt to receive the
most
topsy-turvy impressions and to fall into the most astounding blunders.
Another
striking and at first bewildering characteristic of the astral world is
the
swiftness with which forms – especially when unconnected with any
terrestrial
matrix – change their outlines.
An
astral entity will change his whole appearance with the most startling
rapidity,
for astral matter takes the form under every impulse of thought, the
life
swiftly remoulding the form to give itself new expression. As the great
life-wave
of the evolution of form passed downwards through the astral plane,
and
constituted on that plane the third elemental kingdom, the Monad drew round
itself
combinations of astral matter, giving to these combinations – entitled
elemental
essence – a peculiar vitality and the characteristic of responding to,
and
instantly taking shape under, the impulse of thought vibrations.
This
elemental essence exists in hundreds of varieties on every subdivision of
the
astral plane, as though the air became visible here – as indeed it may seen
in
quivering waves under great heat – and were in constant undulatory motion
with
changing colours like mother-of-pearl.
This
vast atmosphere of elemental essence is ever answering to vibrations caused
by
thoughts, feelings, and desires, and is thrown into commotion by a rush of
any
of these like bubbles in boiling water. ( C.W. Leadbeater, Astral Plane, p.
52).
The duration of the form depends on the strength of the impulse to which it
owes
its birth ; the clearness of its outline depends on the precision of the
thinking,
and the colour depends on the quality – intellectual, devotional,
passional
– of the thought.
The
vague loose thoughts which are so largely produced by undeveloped minds
gather
round themselves loose clouds of elemental essence when they arrive in
the
astral world, and drift about, attracted hither and thither to other clouds
of
similar nature, clinging round the astral bodies of persons whose magnetism
attracts
them – either good or evil – and after a while disintegrating, to again
form
a part of the general atmosphere of elemental essence. While they maintain
a
separate existence they are living entities, with bodies of elemental essence
and
thoughts as the ensouling lives, and they are then called artificial
elementals,
or thought-forms.
Clear,
precise thoughts have each their own definite shapes, with sharp clean
outlines,
and show an endless variety of designs. They are shaped by vibrations
set
up by thought, just as on the physical plane we find figures which are
shaped
by vibrations set up by sound. "Voice-figures" offer a very fair
analogy
for
"thought-figures," for nature, with all her infinite variety, is very
conservative
of principles, and reproduces the same methods of working on plane
after
plane in her realms.
These
clearly defined artificial elementals have a longer and much more active
life
than their cloudy brethren, exercising a far stronger influence on the
astral
bodies (and through them on the minds) of those to whom they are
attracted.
They set up in them vibrations similar to their own, and thus
thoughts
spread from mind to mind without terrestrial expression. More than
this:
they can be directed by the thinker towards any person he desires to
reach,
their potency depending on the strength of his will and the intensity of
his
mental power.
Among
average people the artificial elementals created by feeling or desire are
more
vigorous and more definite than those created by thought. Thus an outburst
of
anger will cause a very definitely outlined and powerful flash of red, and
sustained
anger will make a dangerous elemental, red in colour, and pointed,
barbed,
or otherwise qualified to injure. Love, according to its quality, will
set
up forms more or less beautiful in colour and design, all shades of crimson
to
the most exquisite and soft hues of rose, like the palest blushes of sunset
or
the dawn, clouds of tenderly strong protective shapes. Many a Mother’s loving
prayers
go to hover round her son as angel-forms, turning aside from him evil
influences
that perchance his own thoughts are attracting.
It
is characteristic of these artificial elementals, when they are directed by
the
will towards any particular person, that they are animated by the one
impulse
of carrying out the will of their creator. A protective elemental will
hover
round its object, seeking any opportunity of warding off evil or
attracting
good – not consciously, but by a blind impulse, as finding there the
line
of least resistance.
So,
also, an elemental ensouled by a malignant thought will hover round its
victim
seeking opportunity to injure. But neither the one nor the other can make
any
impression unless there be in the astral body of the object something skin
to
themselves, something that can answer accordingly to their vibrations, and
thus
enable them to attach themselves. If there be nothing in him of matter
cognate
to their own, then by a law of their nature they rebound from him along
the
path they pursued in going to him – the magnetic trace they have left – and
rush
to their creator with a force proportionate to that of their projection.
Thus
a thought of deadly hatred, failing to strike the object at which it was
darted,
has been known to slay its sender, while good thoughts sent to the
unworthy
return as blessings to him that poured them forth.
A
very slight understanding of the astral world will thus act as a most powerful
stimulus
to right thinking, and will render heavy the sense of responsibility in
regard
to the thoughts and feelings, and desires that we let loose into this
astral
realm. Ravening beasts of prey, rending and devouring, are too many of
the
thoughts with which men people the astral plane. But they err from
ignorance,
they know not what they do. One of the objects of theosophical
teaching,
partly lifting up the veil of the unseen world, is to give men a
sounder
basis for conduct, a more rational appreciation of the causes of which
the
effects only are seen in the terrestrial world.
A
few of its doctrines are more important in their ethical bearing than this of
the
creation and direction of thought-forms, or artificial elementals, for
through
it man learns that his mind does not concern himself alone, that his
thoughts
do not affect himself alone, but that he is ever sending out angels and
devils
into the world of men, for whose creation he is responsible, and for
whose
influences he is held accountable. Let men, then, know the law, and guide
their
thoughts thereby.
If,
instead of taking artificial elementals separately, we take them in the
mass,
it is easy to realise the tremendous effect they have in producing
national
and race feelings, and thus in biasing and prejudicing the mind. We all
grow
up surrounded by an atmosphere crowded with elementals embodying certain
ideas
; national prejudices, national ways of looking at all questions, national
types
of feelings and thoughts, all these play on us from our birth, aye, and
before.
We see everything through this atmosphere, every thought is more or less
refracted
by it, and our own astral bodies are vibrating in accord with it.
Hence
the same idea will look quite different to the Hindu, an Englishman, a
Spaniard,
and a Russian ; some conceptions easy to the one will be almost
impossible
to the other, customs instinctively attractive to the one are
instinctively
odious to the other. We are all dominated by our national
atmosphere,
i.e., by that portion of the astral world immediately surrounding
us.
The
thoughts of others, cast much in the same mould, play upon us and call out
from
us synchronous vibrations ; they intensify the points in which we accord
with
our surroundings and flatten away the differences, and this ceaseless
action
upon us through the astral body impresses on us the national half-mark
and
traces channels for mental energies into which they readily flow. Sleeping
and
waking , these currents play upon us, and our very unconsciousness of their
action
makes it the more effective. As most people are receptive rather than
initiative
in their nature, they act almost as automatic reproducers of the
thoughts
which reach them, and thus the national atmosphere is continually
intensified.
When
a person is beginning to be sensitive to astral influences, he will
occasionally
find himself suddenly overpowered or assailed by a quite
inexplicable
and seemingly irrational dread, which swoops upon him with even
paralysing
force. Fight against it as he may, he yet feels it, and perhaps
resents
it. Probably there are few who have not experienced this fear to some
extent,
the uneasy dread of an invisible something, the feeling of a presence,
of
"not being alone." This arises partly from a certain hostility which
animates
the
natural elemental world against the human, on account of the various
destructive
agencies devised by mankind on the physical plane and reacting on
the
astral, but is also largely due to the presence of so many artificial
elementals
of an unfriendly kind, bred by human minds.
Thoughts
of hatred, jealousy, revenge, bitterness, suspicion, discontent, go out
by
millions crowding the astral plane with artificial elementals whose whole
life
is made of these feelings. How much also is there of vague distrust and
suspicion
poured out by the ignorant against all whose ways and appearance are
alien
and unfamiliar. The blind distrust of all foreigners, the surly contempt,
extending
in many districts even towards inhabitants of another country – these
things
also contribute evil influences to the astral world. There being so much
of
these things among us, we create a blindly hostile army on the astral plane,
and
this is answered in our own astral bodies by a feeling of dread, set up by
the
antagonistic vibrations that are sensed, but not understood.
Outside
the class of artificial elementals, the astral world is thickly
populated,
even excluding, as we do for the present, all the human entities who
have
lost their physical bodies by death. There are great hosts of natural
elementals,
or nature-spirits, divided into five main classes –the elementals of
the
ether, the fire, the air, the water, and the earth ; the last four groups
have
been termed, in mediaeval occultism, the Salamanders, Sylphs, Undines, and
Gnomes
(needless to say there are two other classes, completing the seven, not
concerning
us here, as they are still unmanifested).
These
are the true elementals, or creatures of the elements, earth, water, air,
fire
and ether, and they are severally concerned in the carrying on of the
activities
connected with their own element ; they are the channels through
which
work the divine energies in these several fields, the living expressions
of
the law in each. At the head of each division is a great Being, the captain
of
the mighty host, (Called a Deva, or God, by the Hindus. The student may like
to
have the Sanskrit names of the five Gods of the manifested elements ; Indra,
lord
of the Akâsha, or ether of space ; Agni, lord of fire ; Pavana, lord of
air,
Varuna, lord of water ; Kshiti, lord of the earth). the directing and
guiding
intelligence of the whole department of nature which is administered and
energised
by the class of elementals under his control.
Thus
Agni the fire-God, is a great spiritual entity concerned with the
manifestation
of fire on all planes of the universe, and carries on his
administration
through the host of the fire-elementals. By understanding the
nature
of these, or knowing the methods of their control, the so-called miracles
of
magical feats are worked, which from time to time are recorded in the public
press,
whether they are avowedly the results of magical arts, or are done by the
aid
of "spirits" – as in the case of the late Mr. Home, who could
unconcernedly
pick
a red-hot coal out of a blazing fire with his fingers and hold it in his
hand
unhurt. Levitation (the suspension of a heavy body in the air without
visible
support) and walking on the water have been done by the aid respectively
of
the elementals of the air and the water, although another method is more
often
employed.
As
the elements enter into the human body, one or another predominating
according
to the nature of the person, each human being has relations with these
elementals,
the most friendly to him being those whose element is preponderant
in
him. The effects of this fact are often noted, and are popularly ascribed to
"luck".
A person has " a lucky hand" in making plants grow, in lighting
fires,
in
finding underground water, etc. Nature is ever jostling us with her occult
forces,
but we are slow to take her hints. Tradition sometimes hides a truth in
a
proverb or a fable, but we have grown beyond all such
"superstitions."
We
find also on the astral plane, nature-spirits – less accurately termed
elementals
– who are concerned with the building of forms in the mineral,
vegetable,
animal, and human kingdoms. There are nature-spirits who build up
minerals,
who guide the vital energies in plants, and who molecule by molecule
form
the bodies of the animal kingdom ; they are concerned with the making of
the
astral bodies of minerals, plants, and animals, as well as with that of the
physical.
These
are the fairies and elves of legends, the "little people" who play so
large
a part in the folk lore of every nation, the charming irresponsible
children
of nature, whom science had coldly relegated to the nursery, but who
will
be replaced in their own grade of natural order by the wiser scientists of
a
later day. Only poets and occultists believe in them just now, poets by the
intuition
of their genius, occultists by the vision of their trained inner
senses.
The multitude laugh at both, most of all at the occultists ; but it
matter
not – wisdom shall be justified of her children.
The
play of the life-currents in the etheric doubles of the forms in the
mineral,
vegetable, and animal kingdoms, awoke out of latency the astral matter
involved
in the structure of their atomic and molecular constituents. It began
to
thrill in a very limited way in the minerals, and the Monad of form,
exercising
his organising power, drew in materials from the astral world, and
these
were built by the nature-spirits into a loosely constituted mass, the
mineral
astral body.
In
the vegetable world the astral bodies are a little more organised, and their
special
characteristic of "feeling" begins to appear. Dull and diffused
sensations
of well-being and discomfort are observable in most plants as the
results
of the increasing activity of the astral body. They dimly enjoy the air,
the
rain, and the sunshine, and gropingly seek them, while they shrink from
noxious
conditions. Some seek the light and some seek the darkness ; they answer
to
stimuli, and adapt themselves to external conditions, some showing plainly a
sense
of touch. In the animal kingdom the astral body is more developed,
reaching
in the higher members of that kingdom a sufficiently definite
organisation
to cohere for some time after the death of the physical body, and
to
lead an independent existence on the astral plane.
The
nature-spirits concerned with the building of the animal and human astral
bodies
have been given the special name of desire-elementals, (Kâmadevas, they
are
called "desire-gods") because they are strongly animated by desires
of all
kinds,
and constantly build themselves into the astral bodies of animals and
men.
They
also use the varieties of elemental essence similar to that of which their
own
bodies are composed to construct the astral bodies of animals, those bodies
thus
acquiring, as interwoven parts, the centres of sensation and of the various
passional
activities. These centres are stimulated into functioning by impulses
received
by the dense physical organs, and transmitted by the etheric physical
organs
to the astral body.
Not
until the astral centre is reached does the animal feel pleasure or pain. A
stone
may be struck, but it will feel no pain ; it has dense and etheric
physical
molecules, but its astral body is unorganised ; the animal feels pain
from
a blow because he possesses the astral centres of sensation, and the
desire-elementals
have woven into him their own nature.
As
a new consideration enters into the work of these elementals with the human
astral
body, we will finish our survey of the inhabitants of the astral plane
ere
studying this more complicated astral form.
The
desire-bodies, (Kâmarûpa is the technical name for the astral body, from
Kâma,
desire, and rûpa, form) or astral bodies, of animals are found, as has
just
been stated, to lead an independent though fleeting existence on the astral
plane
after death has destroyed their physical counterparts. In "civilised"
countries
these animal astral bodies add much to the general feeling of
hostility
which was spoken of above, for the organised butchery of animals in
slaughterhouses
and by sport sends millions of these annually into the astral
world,
full of horror, terror, and shrinking from men.
The
comparatively few creatures that are allowed to die in peace and quietness
are
lost in the vast hordes of the murdered, and from the currents set up by
these
there rain down influences from the astral world on the human and animal
races
which drive them yet further apart and engender "instinctive"
distrust and
fear
on the one side and lust of inflicting cruelty on the other.
These
feelings have been much intensified of late years by the coldly devised
methods
of the scientific torture called vivisection, the unmentionable
barbarities
of which have introduced new horrors into the astral world by their
reaction
on the culprits, (See Chapter III, on "Kâmaloka .") as well as having
increased
the gulf between man and his "poor relations".
Apart
from what we may call the normal population of the astral world, there are
passing
travellers in it, led there by their work, whom we cannot leave entirely
without
mention. Some of these come from our own terrestrial world, while others
are
visitors from loftier regions.
Of
the former, many are Initiates of various grades, some belonging to the Great
White
Lodge – the Himâlayan or Tibetan Brotherhood, as it is often called (It is
to
some members of this Lodge that the Theosophical Society owes its inception)
–
while others are members of different occult lodges throughout the world,
ranging
from white through shades of grey to black. ( Occultists who are
unselfish
and wholly devoted to the carrying out of the Divine Will, or who are
aiming
to attain these virtues, are called "white". Those who are selfish
and
are
working against the Divine purpose in the universe are called
"black."
Expanding
selflessness, love and devotion are the marks of the one class:
contracting
selfishness, hatred, and harsh arrogance are the sign of the other.
Between
these are the classes whose motives are mixed, and who have not yet
realised
that they must evolve towards the One Self or towards separated selves
;
these I have called grey. Their members gradually drift into, or deliberately
join,
one of the two great groups with clearly marked aims).
All
these are men living in physical bodies, who have learned to leave the
physical
encasement at will, and to function in full consciousness in the astral
body.
They are of all grades of knowledge and virtue, beneficent and maleficent,
strong
and weak, gentle and ferocieous. There are also many younger aspirants,
still
uninitiated, who are learning to use the astral vehicle, and who are
employed
in works of benevolence or malevolence according to the path they are
seeking
to tread.
After
these, we have psychics of varying degrees of development, some fairly
alert,
others dreamy and confused, wandering about while their physical bodies
are
asleep or entranced. Unconscious of their external surroundings, wrapped in
their
own thoughts, drawn as it were within their astral shell, are millions of
drifting
astral bodies inhabited by conscious entities, whose physical frames
are
sunk in sleep.
As
we shall see presently, the consciousness in its astral vehicle escapes when
the
body sinks into sleep, and passes on to the astral plane ; but it is not
conscious
of its surroundings until the astral body is sufficiently developed to
function
independently of the physical.
Occasionally
is seen on this plane a disciple (A Chelâ, the accepted pupil of an
Adept),
who has passed through death and is awaiting an almost immediate
reincarnation
under the direction of his Master. He is, of course, in the
enjoyment
of full consciousness, and is working like other disciples who have
merely
slipped off their bodies in sleep. A certain stage (See chapter XI, on
"Man’s
Ascent") – a disciple is allowed to reincarnate very quickly after death,
and
under these circumstances he has to await on the astral plane a suitable
opportunity
for rebirth.
Passing
through the astral plane also are the human beings who are on their way
to
reincarnation ; they will again be mentioned later on (See chapter VII, on
"Reincarnation".)
and they concern themselves in no way with the general life of
the
astral world. The desire-elementals, however, who have affinity with them
from
their past passional and sensational activities, gather round them,
assisting
in the building of the new astral body for the coming earth-life.
We
must now turn to the consideration of the human astral body during the period
of
existence in this world, and study its nature and constitution as well as its
relations
with the astral realm. We will take the astral body of (a) an
undeveloped
man, (b) an average man, and (c) a spiritually developed man.
(a)
An undeveloped man’s astral body is a cloudy, loosely organised, vaguely
outlined
mass of astral spirit-matter, containing materials – both astral matter
and
elemental essence – drawn from all the subdivisions of the astral plane, but
with
a predominance of substances from the lower, so that it is dense and coarse
in
texture, fit to respond to all the stimuli connected with the passions and
appetites.
The colours caused by the rates of vibration are dull, muddy, and
dusky
– brown, dull reds, dirty greens, are predominant hues. There is no play
of
light or quickly changing flashing of colours through this astral body, but
the
various passions show themselves as heavy surges, or, when violent, as
flashes
; thus sexual passion will send a wave of muddy crimson, rage a flash of
lurid
red.
The
astral body is larger than the physical, extending round it in all
directions
ten to twelve inches in such a case as we are considering. The
centres
of the organs of sense are definitely marked, and are active when worked
on
from without ; but in quiescence the life-streams are sluggish, and the
astral
body, stimulated neither from the physical nor mental worlds, is drowsy
and
indifferent. ( the student will recognise here the predominance of the
tâmasic
guna, the quality of darkness or inertness in nature.)
It
is a constant characteristic of the undeveloped state that activity is
prompted
from without rather from the inner consciousness . A stone to be moved
must
be pushed ; a plant moves under the attractions of light and moisture ; an
animal
becomes active when stirred by hunger: a poorly developed man needs to be
prompted
in similar ways. Not till the mind is partly grown does it begin to
initiate
action. The centres of higher activities, ( The seven Chakras, or
wheels,
so named from the whirling appearance they present, like wheels of
living
fire when in activity.) related to the independent functioning of the
astral
senses, are scarcely visible. A man at this stage requires for his
evolution
violent sensations of every kind, to arouse the nature and stimulate
it
into activity. Heavy blows from the outer world, both of pleasure and pain,
are
wanted to awaken and spur to action.
The
more numerous and violent the sensations, the more he can be made to feel,
the
better for his growth. At this stage quality matters little, quantity and
vigour
are the main requisites. The beginnings of this man’s morality will be in
his
passions ; a slight impulse of unselfishness in his relations to wife and
child
or friend, will be the first step upwards, by causing vibrations in the
finer
matter of his astral body and attracting into it more elemental essence of
an
appropriate kind. The astral body is constantly changing its materials under
this
play of the passions, appetites, desires, and emotions.
All
good ones strengthen the finer parts of the body, shake out some of the
coarser
constituents, draw into it the subtler materials, and attract round it
elementals
of a beneficent kind who aid in the renovating process. All evil ones
have
diametrically opposite effects, strengthening the coarser, expelling the
finer,
drawing in more of the former, and attracting elementals who help in the
deteriorating
process.
The
man’s moral and intellectual powers are so embryonic in the case we are
considering
that most of the building and changing of his astral body may be
said
to be done for him rather than by him. It depends more on his external
circumstances
than on his own will, for, as just said, it is characteristic of a
low
stage of development that a man is moved from without and through the body
much
more than from within and by the mind. It is a sign of considerable advance
when
a man begins to be moved by the will, by his own energy, self-determined,
instead
of being moved by desire, i.e., by a response to an external attraction
or
repulsion.
In
sleep the astral body, enveloping the consciousness, slips out of the
physical
vehicle, leaving the dense and etheric bodies to slumber. At this
stage,
however, the consciousness is not awake in the astral body, lacking the
strong
contacts that spur it while in the physical frame, and the only things
that
affect the astral body may be elementals of the coarser kinds, that may set
up
therein vibrations which are reflected to the etheric and dense brains, and
induce
dreams of animal pleasures. The astral body floats just over the
physical,
held by its strong attraction, and cannot go far away from it.
(b)
In the average moral and intellectual man the astral body shows an immense
advance
on that just described. It is larger in size, its materials are more
balanced
in quality, the presence of the rarer kinds giving a certain luminous
quality
to the whole, while the expression of the higher emotions sends playing
through
it beautiful ripples of colour. Its outline is clear and definite,
instead
of vague and shifting, as in the former case, and it assumes the
likeness
of its owner. It is obviously becoming a vehicle for the inner man,
with
good definite organisation and stability, a body fit and ready to function,
and
able to maintain itself, apart from the physical. While retaining great
plasticity,
it yet has a normal form, to which it continuously recurs when any
pressure
is removed that may have caused it to change its outline.
Its
activity is constant, and hence it is in perpetual vibration, showing
endless
varieties of changing hues ; also the "wheels" are clearly visible
though
not yet functioning ( Here the student will note the predominance of the
râjasic
guna, the quality of activity in nature.) It responds quickly to all the
contacts
coming to it through the physical body, and is stirred by the
influences
rained on it from the conscious entity within, memory and imagination
stimulating
it to action, and causing it to become the prompter of the body to
activity
instead of only being moved by it.
Its
purification proceeds along the same lines as in the former case – the
expulsion
of lower constituents by setting up vibrations antagonistic to them
and
the drawing in of finer materials in their place. But now the increased
moral
intellectual development of the man puts the building almost entirely
under
his own control, for he is no longer driven here and there by stimuli from
external
nature, but reasons, judges, and resists or yields as he thinks well.
By
the exercise of well-directed thought he can rapidly affect the astral body,
and
hence its improvement can proceed apace. Nor is it necessary that he should
understand
the modus operandi in order to bring about the effect, any more than
that
a man should understand the laws of light in order to see.
In
sleep, this well-developed astral body slips, as usual, from its physical
encasement,
but is by no means held captive by it, as in the former case. It
roams
about in the astral world, drifted hither and thither by the astral
currents,
while the consciousness within it, not yet able to direct its
movements,
is awake, engaged in the enjoyment of its own mental images and
mental
activities, and able also to receive impressions through its astral
covering,
and to change them into mental pictures. In this way a man may gain
knowledge
when out of the body, and may subsequently impress it on the brain as
a
vivid dream or vision, or without this link of memory it may filter through
into
the brain-consciousness.
(c)
The astral body of a spiritually developed man is composed of the finest
particles
of each subdivision of astral matter, the higher kinds largely
predominating
in amount. It is therefore a beautiful object in luminosity and
colour,
hues not known on earth showing themselves under the impulses thrown
into
it by the purified mind. The wheels of fire are now seen to deserve their
names,
and their whirling motion denotes the activity of the higher senses. Such
a
body is, in the full sense of the words, a vehicle of consciousness, for in
the
course of evolution it has been vivified in every organ and brought under
the
complete control of its owner.
When
in it he leaves the physical body there is no break in consciousness ; he
merely
shakes off his heavier vesture, and finds himself unencumbered by its
weight.
He can move anywhere within the astral sphere with immense rapidity, and
is
no longer bound by the narrow terrestrial conditions. His body answers to his
will,
reflects and obeys his thought. His opportunities for serving humanity are
thus
enormously increased, and his powers are directed by his virtue and his
beneficence.
The absence of gross particles in his astral body renders it
incapable
of responding to the promptings of lower objects of desire, and they
turn
away from him as beyond their attraction. The whole body vibrates only in
answer
to the higher emotions, his love has grown into devotion, his energy is
curbed
by patience.
Gentle,
calm, serene, full of power, but with no trace of restlessness, such a
man
"all the Siddhis stand ready to serve." (Here the sâttvic guna, the
quality
of
bliss and purity in nature, is predominant. Siddhis are superphysical
powers.)
The
astral body forms the bridge over the gulf which separates consciousness
from
the physical brain. Impacts received by the sense organs and transmitted,
as
we have seen, to the dense and etheric centres, pass thence to the
corresponding
astral centres ; here they are worked on by the elemental essence
and
are transmuted into feelings , and are then presented to the inner man as
objects
of consciousness, the astral vibrations awakening corresponding
vibrations
in the materials of the mental body. (See chapter IV, on "The Mental
Plane.")
By
these successive gradations in fineness of spirit-matter the heavy impacts of
terrestrial
objects can be transmitted to the conscious entity ; and, in turn,
the
vibrations set up by his thoughts can pass along the same bridge to the
physical
brain and there induce physical vibrations corresponding to the mental.
This
is the regular normal way in which consciousness receives impressions from
without,
and in turn sends impressions outwards. By this constant passage of
vibrations
to and fro the astral body is chiefly developed ; the current plays
upon
it from within and from without, it evolves its organisation, and subserves
its
general growth.
By
this it becomes larger, finer in texture, more definitely outlined, and more
organised
interiorly. Trained thus to respond to consciousness, it gradually
becomes
fit to function as its separate vehicle, and to transmit to it clearly
the
vibrations received directly from the astral world. Most readers will have
had
some little experience of impressions coming into consciousness from
without,
that do not arise from any physical impact, and that are very quickly
verified
by some external occurrence.
These
are frequently impressions that reach the astral body directly, and are
transmitted
by it to the consciousness, and such impressions are often of the
nature
of previsions which very quickly prove themselves to be true. When the
man
is far progressed, though the stage varies much according to other
circumstances,
links are set up between the physical and the astral, the astral
and
mental, so that consciousness works unbrokenly from one state to the other,
memory
having in it none of the lapses which in the ordinary man interpose a
period
of unconsciousness in passing from one plane to another. The man can then
also
freely exercise the astral senses while the consciousness is working in the
physical
body, so that these enlarged avenues of knowledge become an appanage of
his
waking consciousness. Objects which were before matters of faith becomes
matters
of knowledge, and he can personally verify the accuracy of much of the
Theosophical
teaching as to the lower regions of the invisible world.
When
man is analysed into "principles," i.e., into modes of manifesting
life,
his
four lower principles, termed the "lower Quaternary," are said to
function
on
the astral and physical planes. The fourth principle is Kâma, desire, and it
is
the life manifesting in the astral body and conditioned by it ; it is
characterised
by the attribute of feeling, whether in the rudimentary form of
sensation,
or in the complex form of emotion, or in any of the grades that lie
between.
This is summed up as desire, that which is attracted or repelled by
objects,
according as they give pleasure or pain to the personal self.
The
third principle is Prâna, the life specialised for the support of the
physical
organism. The second principle is the etheric double, and the first is
the
dense body. These three function on the physical plane. In H.P.Blavatsky’s
later
classifications she removed both Prâna and the dense physical body from
the
rank of principles, Prâna as being universal life, and the dense physical
body
as being the mere counterpart of the etheric, and made of constantly
changing
materials built into the etheric matrix. Taking this view, we have the
grand
philosophic conception of the One Life, the One Self, manifesting as man,
and
presenting varying and transitory differences according to the conditions
imposed
on it by the bodies which it vivifies; itself remaining the same in the
centre,
but showing different aspects when looked at from outside, according to
the
kinds of matter in one body or another.
In
the physical body it is Prâna, energising, controlling, co-ordinating. In the
astral
body it is Kâma, feeling, enjoying, suffering. We shall find it in yet
other
aspects, as we pass to higher planes, but the fundamental idea is the same
throughout,
and it is another of those root-ideas of Theosophy, which firmly
grasped,
serve as guiding clues in this most tangled world.
KÂMALOKA
KÂMALOKA,
literally the place or habitat of desire, is, as has already been
intimated,
a part of the astral plane, not divided from it as a distinct
locality,
but separated off by the conditions of consciousness of the entities
belonging
to it. (The Hindus call this state Pretaloka, the habitat of Pretas. A
Preta
is a human being who has lost his physical body, but is still encumbered
with
the vesture of his animal nature. He cannot carry this on with him, and
until
it is disintegrated he is kept imprisoned by it.)
These
are human beings who have lost their physical bodies by the stroke of
death,
and have to undergo certain purifying changes before they can pass on to
the
happy and peaceful life which belongs to the man proper, to the human soul.
(The
soul is the human intellect, the link between the Divine Spirit in man and
his
lower personality. It is the Ego, the individual, the " I ", which
develops
by
evolution. In Theosophical parlance, it is Manas, the Thinker. The mind is
the
energy of this, working within the limitations of the physical brain, or the
astral
and mental bodies).
This
region represents and includes the conditions described as existing in the
various
hells, purgatories, and intermediate states, one or other of which is
alleged
by all the great religions to be the temporary dwelling-place of man
after
he leaves the body and before he reaches "heaven." It does not
include any
place
of eternal torture, the endless hell still believed in by some narrow
religionists
being only a nightmare dream of ignorance, hate and fear. But it
does
include conditions of suffering, temporary and purificatory in their
nature,
the working out of causes set going in his earth-life by the man who
experiences
them. These are as natural and inevitable as any effects caused in
this
world by wrongdoing, for we live in a world of law and every seed must grow
up
after its own kind. Death makes no sort of difference in a man’s moral and
mental
nature, and the change of state caused by passing from one world to
another
takes away his physical body, but leaves the man as he was.
The
Kâmalokic condition is found on each subdivision of the astral plane, so
that
we may speak of it as having seven regions, calling them the first, second,
third,
up to the seventh, beginning from the lowest and counting upwards. (Often
these
regions are reckoned the other way, taking the first as the highest and
the
seventh as the lowest. It does not matter from which end we count ; and I am
reckoning
upwards to keep them in accord with the planes and principles.).
We
have already seen that materials from each subdivision of the astral plane
enter
into the composition of the astral body, and it is a peculiar
rearrangement
of these materials, to be explained in a moment, which separates
the
people dwelling in one region from those dwelling in another, although those
in
the same region are able to intercommunicate. The regions, being each a
subdivision
of the astral plane, differ in density, and the density of the
external
form of the Kâmalokic entity determines the region to which he is
limited
; these differences of matter are the barriers that prevent passage from
one
region to another ; the people dwelling in one can no more come into touch
with
people dwelling in another than a deep-sea fish can hold a conversation
with
an eagle – the medium necessary to the life of the one would be destructive
to
the life of the other.
When
the physical body is struck down by death, the etheric body, carrying Prâna
with
it and accompanied by the remaining principles – that is, the whole man,
except
the dense body – withdraws from the "tabernacle of flesh," as the
outer
body
is appropriately called. All the outgoing life-energies draw themselves
inwards,
and are "gathered up by Prâna," their departure being manifested by
the
dullness
that creeps over the physical organs of the senses.
They
are there, uninjured, physically complete, ready to act as they have always
been
; but the "inner Ruler," is going, he who through them saw, heard,
felt,
smelt,
tasted, and by themselves they are mere aggregations of matter, living
indeed
but without power of perceptive action. Slowly the lord of the body draws
himself
away, enwrapped in the violet-grey etheric body, and absorbed in the
contemplation
of the panorama of his past life, which in the death hour rolls
before
him, complete in every detail.
In
that life-picture are all the events of his life, small and great ; he sees
his
ambitions with their success or frustration, his efforts, his triumphs, his
failures,
his loves, his hatreds ; the predominant tendency of the whole comes
clearly
out, the ruling thought of the life asserts itself, and stamps itself
deeply
into the soul, marking the region in which the chief part of his
post-mortem
existence will be spent.
Solemn
the moment when the man stands face to face with his life, and from the
lips
of his past hears the presage of his future. For a brief space he sees
himself
as he is, recognises the purpose of life, knows that the Law is strong
and
just and good. Then the magnetic tie breaks between the dense and etheric
bodies,
the comrades of a lifetime are disjoined, and – save in exceptional
cases
– the man sinks into peaceful unconsciousness.
Quietness
and devotion should mark the conduct of all who are gathered round a
dying
body, in order that a solemn silence may leave uninterrupted this review
of
the past by the departing man. Clamorous weeping, loud lamentations, can but
jar
and disturb the concentrated attention of the soul, and to break with the
grief
of a personal loss into the stillness which aids and soothes him, is at
once
selfish and impertinent. Religion has wisely commanded prayers for the
dying,
for these preserve calm and stimulate unselfish aspirations directed to
his
helping, and these, like all loving thoughts, protect and shield.
Some
hours after death – generally not more than thirty-six, it is said – the
man
draws himself out of the etheric body, leaving it in turn as a senseless
corpse,
and the latter, remaining near its dense counterpart, shares its fate.
If
the dense body be buried, the etheric double floats over the grave, slowly
disintegrating,
and the unpleasant feelings many experience in a churchyard are
largely
due to the presence of these decaying etheric corpses. If the body is
burned,
the etheric double breaks up quickly, having lost its nidus, its
physical
centre of attraction, and this is one among many reasons why cremation
is
preferable to burial, as a way of disposing of corpses.
The
withdrawal of the man from the etheric double is accompanied by the
withdrawal
from it of Prâna, which thereupon returns to the great reservoir of
life
universal, while the man, ready now to pass into Kâmaloka, undergoes a
rearrangement
of his astral body, fitting it for submission to the purificatory
changes
which are necessary for the freeing of the man himself. (These changes
result
in the formation of what is called by Hindus the Yâtanâ, or the suffering
body,
or in the case of very wicked men, in whose astral bodies there is a
preponderance
of the coarser matter, the Dhruvam, or strong body).
During
earth life the various kinds of astral matter intermingle in the
formation
of the body, as do the solids, liquids, gases, and ethers in the
physical.
The change in the arrangement of the astral body after death consists
in
the separation of these materials, according to their respective densities,
into
a series of concentric shells – the finest within, the densest without –
each
shell being made of the materials drawn from one subdivision only of the
astral
plane. The astral body thus becomes a set of seven superimposed layers,
or
a seven-shelled encasement of astral matter, in which the man may not inaptly
be
said to be imprisoned, as only the breaking of these can set him free. Now
will
be seen the immense importance of the purification of the astral body
during
earth-life; the man is retained in each subdivision of Kâmaloka so long
as
the shell of matter pertaining to that subdivision is not sufficiently
disintegrated
to allow of his escape into the next.
Moreover,
the extent to which his consciousness has worked in each kind of
matter
determines whether he will be awake and conscious in any given region, or
will
pass though it in unconsciousness, "wrapped" in rosy dreams,"
and merely
detained
during the time necessary for the process of mechanical disintegration.
A
spiritually advanced man, who has so purified his astral body that its
constituents
are drawn only from the finest grade of each division of astral
matter,
merely passes through Kâmaloka without delay, the astral body
disintegrating
with extreme swiftness, and he goes on to whatever may be his
bourne,
according to the point he has reached in evolution. A less developed
man,
but one whose life has been pure and temperate and who has sat loosely on
the
things of the earth, will wing a less rapid flight through Kâmaloka, but
will
dream peacefully, unconscious of his surroundings, as his mental body
disentangles
itself from the astral shells, one after the other, to awaken only
when
he reaches the heavenly places.
Others,
less developed still, will awaken after passing out of the lower
regions,
becoming conscious in the division which is connected with the active
working
of the consciousness during the earth-life, for this will be aroused on
receiving
familiar impacts, although these be received now directly through the
astral
body, without the help of the physical. Those who have lived in the
animal
passions will awake in their appropriate region, each man literally going
"to
his own place."
The
case of men struck suddenly out of physical life by accident, suicide,
murder,
or sudden death in any form, differs from those of persons who pass away
by
failure of the life-energies through disease or old age. If they are pure and
spiritually
minded they are specially guarded, and sleep out happily the term of
their
natural life. But in other cases they remain conscious – often entangled
in
the final scene of earth-life for a time, and unaware that they have lost the
physical
body – held in whatever region they are related to by the outermost
layer
of the astral body: their normal Kâmalokic life does not begin until the
natural
web of earth-life is out-spun, and they are vividly conscious of both
their
astral and physical surroundings.
One
man who had committed an assassination and had been executed for his crime
was
said, by one of H.P.Blavatsky’s Teachers, to be living through the scenes of
the
murder and the subsequent events over and over again in Kâmaloka, ever
repeating
his diabolical act and going through the terrors of his arrest and
execution.
A
suicide will repeat automatically the feelings of despair and fear which
preceded
his self-murder, and go through the act and the death-struggle time
after
time with ghastly persistence. A woman who perished in the flames in a
wild
condition of terror and with frantic efforts to escape, created such a
whirls
of passions that, five days afterwards, she was still struggling
desperately,
fancying herself still in the fire and wildly repulsing all efforts
to
soothe her: while another woman who, with her baby on her breast, went down
beneath
the whirl of waters in a raging storm, with her heart calm and full of
love,
slept peacefully on the other side of death, dreaming of husband and
children
in happy lifelike visions.
In
more ordinary cases, death by accident is still a disadvantage, brought on a
person
by some serious fault, (Not necessarily a fault committed in the present
life.
The law of cause and effect will be explained in Chapter IX,
"Karma"), for
the
possession of full consciousness in the lower Kâmalokic regions, which are
closely
related to the earth, is attended by many inconveniences and perils. The
man
is full of all the plans and interests that made up his life, and is
conscious
of the presence of people and things connected with them.
He
is almost irresistibly impelled by his longings to try and influence the
affairs
to which his passions and feelings still cling, and is bound to the
earth
while he has lost all his accustomed organs of activity ; his only hope of
peace
lies in resolutely turning away from earth and fixing his mind on higher
things,
but comparatively few are strong enough to make this effort, even with
the
help always offered them by workers on the astral plane, whose sphere of
duty
lies in helping and guiding those who have left his world. (These workers
are
disciples of some of the great Teachers who guide and help humanity, and
they
are employed in this special duty of succouring souls in need of such
assistance.)
Too
often such sufferers impatient in their helpless inactivity, seek the
assistance
of sensitives, with whom they can communicate and so mix themselves
up
once more in terrestrial affairs ; they sometimes seek even to obsess
convenient
mediums and thus to utilise the bodies of others for their own
purposes,
so incurring many responsibilities in the future. Not without occult
reason
have English churchmen been taught to pray: "From battle, murder, and
from
sudden death, Good Lord, deliver us."
We
may now consider the divisions of Kâmaloka one by one, and so gain some idea
of
the conditions which the man has made for himself in the intermediate state
by
the desires which he has cultivated during physical life ; it being kept in
mind
that the amount of vitality in any given "shell" – and therefore his
imprisonment
in that shell – depends on the amount of energy thrown during
earth-life
into the kind of matter of which that shell consists.
If
the lowest passions have been active, the coarsest matter will be strongly
vitalised
and its amount will also be relatively large. This principle rules
through
all Kâmalokic regions, so that a man during earth-life can judge very
fairly
as to the future for himself that he is preparing immediately on the
other
side of death.
The
first or lowest, division is the one that contains the conditions described
in
so many Hindu and Buddhist Scriptures under the name of "hells" of
various
kinds.
It must be understood that a man, in passing into one of these states, is
not
getting rid of the passions and vile desires that have led him thither ;
these
remain, as part of his character, lying latent in the mind in a germinal
state,
to be thrown outwards again to form his passional nature when he is
returning
to birth in the physical world. (See chapter VII, on
"Reincarnation").
His
presence in the lowest region of Kâmaloka is due to the existence in his
kâmic
body of matter belonging to that region, and he is held prisoner there
until
the greater part of that matter has dropped away, until the shell composed
of
it is sufficiently disintegrated to allow the man to come into contact with
the
region next above.
The
atmosphere of this place is gloomy, heavy, dreary, depressing to an
inconceivable
extent. It seems to reek with all the influences most inimical to
good,
as in truth it does, being caused by the persons whose evil passions have
led
them to this dreary place. All the desires and feelings at which we shudder,
find
here the materials for their expression ; it is, in fact, the lowest slum,
with
all the horrors veiled from physical sight parading their naked
hideousness.
Its repulsiveness is much increased by the fact that in the astral
world
character expresses itself in form, and the man who is full of evil
passions
looks the whole of them ; bestial appetites shape the astral body into
bestial
forms, and repulsively human animal shapes are the appropriate clothing
of
brutalised human souls.
No
man can be a hypocrite in the astral world, and cloak foul thoughts with a
veil
of virtuous seeming ; whatever a man is that he appears to be in outward
form
and semblance, radiant in beauty if his mind be noble, repulsive in
hideousness
if his nature be foul. It will readily be understood, then, how such
Teachers
as the Buddha – to whose unerring vision all worlds lay open – should
describe
what was seen in these hells in vivid language of terrible imagery,
that
seems incredible to modern readers only because people forget that, once
escaped
from the heavy and unplastic matter of the physical world, all souls
appear
in their proper likenesses and look just what they are . Even in this
world
a degraded and besotted ruffian moulds his face into most repellent aspect
;
what then can be expected when the plastic astral matter takes shape with
every
impulse of his criminal desires, but that such a man should wear a
horrifying
form, taking on changing elements of hideousness?
For
it must be remembered that the population – if that word may be allowed – of
this
lowest region consists of the very scum of humanity, murderers, ruffians,
violent
criminals of all types, drunkards, profligates, the vilest of mankind.
None
is here, with consciousness awake to its surroundings, save those guilty of
brutal
crimes, or of deliberate persistent cruelty, or possessed by some vile
appetite.
The only persons who may be of a better general type, and yet for a
while
be held here, are suicides, men who have sought by self-murder to escape
from
the earthly penalties of crimes they had committed, and who have but
worsened
their position by the exchange. Not all suicides, be it understood ,
for
self-murder is committed from many motives, but only such as are led up to
by
crime and are then committed in order to avoid the consequences.
Save
for the gloomy surroundings and the loathsomeness of a man’s associates,
every
man here is the immediate creator of his own miseries. Unchanged, except
for
the loss of the bodily veil, men here show out their passions in all their
native
hideousness, their naked brutality ; full of fierce unsatiated appetites,
seething
with revenge, hatred, longings after physical indulgences which the
loss
of physical organs incapacitates them for enjoying, they roam, raging and
ravening,
through this gloomy region, crowding round all foul resorts on earth,
round
brothels and gin-palaces, stimulating their occupants to deeds of shame
and
violence, seeking opportunities to obsess them, and so to drive them into
worse
excesses.
The
sickening atmosphere felt round such places comes largely from these
earthbound
astral entities, reeking with foul passions and unclean desires.
Mediums
– unless of very pure and noble character – are special objects of
attack,
and too often the weaker ones, weakened still further by the passive
yielding
of their bodies for the temporary habitation of other excarnate souls
are
obsessed by these creatures, and are driven into intemperance or madness.
Executed
murderers, furious with terror and passionate revengeful hatred, acting
over
again, as we have said, their crime and recreating mentally its terrible
results,
surround themselves with an atmosphere of savage thought-forms, and,
attracted
to any one harbouring revengeful and violent designs, they egg him on
into
the actual commission of the deed over which he broods. Sometimes a man may
be
seen constantly followed by his murdered victim, never able to escape from
his
haunting presence, which hunts him with a dull persistency , try he ever so
eagerly
to escape. The murdered person, unless himself of a very base type, is
wrapped
in unconsciousness, and this very unconsciousness seems to add a new
horror
to its mechanical pursuit.
Here
also is the hell of the vivisector, for cruelty draws into the astral body
the
coarsest materials and the most repulsive combinations of the astral matter,
and
he lives amid the crowding forms of his mutilated victims – moaning,
quivering,
howling (they are vivified, not by the animal souls but by elemental
life)
pulsing with hatred to the tormentor – rehearsing his worst experiments
with
automatic regularity, conscious of all the horror, and yet imperiously
impelled
to the self-torment by the habit set up during earth-life.
It
is well once again, to remember, ere quitting this dreary region, that we
have
no arbitrary punishments inflicted from outside, but only the inevitable
working
out of the causes set going by each person. During physical life they
yielded
to the vilest impulses and drew into, built into, their astral bodies
the
materials which alone could vibrate in answer to those impulses ; this
self-built
body becomes the prison house of the soul, and must fall into ruins
ere
the soul can escape from it.
As
inevitably as a drunkard must live in his repulsive soddened physical body
here,
so must he live in his equally repulsive astral body there. The harvest
sown
is reaped after its kind. Such is the law in all the worlds, and it may not
be
escaped. Nor indeed is the astral body there more revolting and horrible than
it
was when the man was living upon earth and made the atmosphere around him
fetid
with his astral emanations. But people on earth do not generally recognise
its
ugliness, being astrally blind.
Further,
we may cheer ourselves in contemplating these unhappy brothers of ours
by
remembering that their sufferings are but temporary, and are giving a
much-needed
lesson in the life of the soul. By the tremendous pressure of
nature’s
disregarded laws they are learning the existence of those laws, and the
misery
that accrues from ignoring them in life and conduct. The lesson they
would
not learn during earth-life, whirled away on the torrent of lusts and
desires,
is pressed on them here, and will be pressed on them in their
succeeding
lives, until the evils are eradicated and the man has risen into a
better
life. Nature’s lessons are sharp, but in the long run they are merciful,
for
they lead to the evolution of the soul and guide it to the winning of its
immortality.
Let
us pass to a more cheerful region. The second division of the astral world
may
be said to be the astral double of the physical, for the astral bodies of
all
things and of many people are largely composed of the matter belonging to
this
division of the astral plane, and it is therefore more closely in touch
with
the physical world than any other part of the astral. The great majority of
people
make some stay here, and a very large proportion of these are consciously
awake
in it. These latter are folk whose interests were bound up in the trivial
and
petty objects of life, who set their hearts on trifles, as well as those who
allowed
their lower natures to rule them, and who died with the appetites still
active
and desirous of physical enjoyment.
Having
largely sent their life outwards in these directions, thus building their
astral
bodies largely of the materials that responded very readily to material
impacts,
they are held by these bodies in the neighbourhood of their physical
attractions.
They are mostly dissatisfied, uneasy, restless, with more or less
suffering
according to the vigour of the wishes they cannot gratify ; some even
undergo
positive pain from this cause, and are long delayed ere these earthly
longings
are exhausted.
Many
unnecessarily lengthen their stay by seeking to communicate with the earth,
in
whose interests they are entangled, by means of mediums, who allow them to
use
their physical bodies for this purpose, thus supplying the loss of their
own.
From them comes most of the mere twaddle with which every one is familiar
who
has had experience of public spiritualistic séances, the gossip and trite
morality
of the petty lodging-house and small shop – feminine, for the most
part.
As these earth bound souls are generally of small intelligence, their
communications
are of no more interest- (to those already convinced of the
existence
of the soul after death) –than was their conversation when they were
in
the body, and – just as on earth – they are positive in proportion to their
ignorance,
representing the whole astral world as identical with their own very
limited
area. There as here:
They
think the rustic cackle of their burgh
The
murmur of the world.
It
is from this region that people who have died with some anxiety on their
minds
will sometimes seek to communicate with their friends in order to arrange
the
earthly matter that troubles them ; if they cannot succeed in showing
themselves,
or in impressing their wishes by a dream on some friend, they will
often
cause much annoyance by knockings and other noises directly intended to
draw
attention or caused unconsciously by their restless efforts. It is a
charity
in such cases for some competent person to communicate with the
distressed
entity and learn his wishes, as he may thus be freed from the anxiety
which
prevents him from passing onwards. Souls, while in this region, may also
very
easily have their attention drawn to the earth, even although they would
not
spontaneously have turned back to it, and this disservice is too often done
to
them by the passionate grief and craving for their beloved presence by
friends
left behind on earth.
The
thought-forms set up by these longings throng round them, and oftentimes
arouse
them if they are peacefully sleeping, or violently draw their thoughts to
earth
if they are already conscious. It is especially in the former case that
this
unwitting selfishness on the part of friends on earth does mischief to
their
dear ones that they would themselves be the first to regret ; and it may
that
the knowledge of the unnecessary suffering thus caused to those who have
passed
through death may, with some, strengthen the binding force of the
religious
precepts which enjoin submission to the divine law and the checking of
excessive
and rebellious grief.
The
third and fourth regions of the Kâmalokic world differ but little from the
second,
and might also be described as etherialised copies of it, the fourth
being
more refined than the third, but the general characteristics of the three
subdivisions
being very similar. Souls of somewhat more progressed types are
found
there, and although they are held there by the encasement built by the
activity
of their earthly interests, their attention is for the most part
directed
onwards rather than backwards, and, if they are not forcibly recalled
to
the concerns of earth-life, they will pass on without very much delay.
Still,
they are susceptible to earthly stimuli, and the weakening interest in
terrestrial
affairs may be reawakened by cries from below. Large numbers of
educated
and thoughtful people, who were chiefly occupied with worldly affairs
during
their physical lives, are conscious in these regions, and may be induced
to
communicate through mediums, and, more rarely, seek such communication
themselves.
Their statements are naturally of a higher type than those spoken of
as
coming from the second division, but are not marked by any characteristics
that
render them more valuable than similar statements made by persons still in
the
body. Spiritual illumination does not come from Kâmaloka.
The
fifth subdivision of Kâmaloka offers many new characteristics. It presents a
distinctly
luminous and radiant appearance, eminently attractive to those
accustomed
only to the dull hues of the earth, and justifying the epithet
astral,
starry, given to the whole plane. Here are situated all the materialised
heavens
which play so large a part in popular religions all the world over.
The
happy hunting grounds of the Red Indian, the Valhalla of the Norsemen, the
houri-filled
paradise of the Muslim, the golden jewelled-gated New Jerusalem of
the
Christian, the lyceum-filled heaven of the materialistic reformer, all have
their
places here. Men and women who clung desperately to every "letter that
killeth"
have here the literal satisfaction of their cravings, unconsciously
creating
in astral matter by their powers of imagination, fed on the mere husks
of
the world’s Scriptures, the cloud-built palaces whereof they dreamed.
The
crudest religious beliefs find here their temporary cloud-land realisation,
and
literalists of every faith, who were filled with selfish longings for their
own
salvation in the most materialistic of heavens, here find an appropriate,
and
to them enjoyable, home, surrounded by the very conditions in which they
believed.
The religious and philanthropic busybodies, who cared more to carry
out
their own fads and impose their own ways on their neighbours than to work
unselfishly
for the increase of human virtue and happiness, are here much to the
fore,
carrying on reformatories, refuges, schools, to their own great
satisfaction,
and much delighted are they still to push an astral finger into an
earthly
pie with the help of a subservient medium whom they patronise with lofty
condescension.
They
build astral churches and schools and houses, reproducing the materialistic
heavens
they coveted ; and though to keener vision their erections are
imperfect,
even pathetically grotesque, they find them all-sufficing. People of
the
same religions flock together and co-operate with each other in various
ways,
so that communities are formed, differing as widely from each other as do
similar
communities on earth.
When
they are attracted to the earth they seek, for the most part, people of
their
own faith and country, chiefly by natural affinity, doubtless, but also
because
barriers of language still exist in Kâmaloka ; as may be noticed
occasionally
in messages received in spiritualistic circles. Souls from this
region
often take the most vivid interest in attempts to establish communication
between
this and the next world, and the "spirit guides" of average mediums
come,
for the most part, from this and from the region next above. They are
generally
aware that there are many possibilities of higher life before them,
and
that they will, sooner or later, pass away into worlds whence communication
with
this earth will not be possible.
The
sixth Kâmalokic region resembles the fifth, but is far more refined, and is
largely
inhabited by souls of a more advanced type, wearing out the astral
vesture
in which much of their mental energies had worked while they were in the
physical
body. Their delay is here due to the large part played by selfishness
in
their artistic and intellectual life, and to the prostitution of their
talents
to the gratification of the desire-nature in a refined and delicate way.
Their
surroundings are the best that are found in Kâmaloka, as their creative
thoughts
fashion the luminous materials of their temporary home into fair
landscapes
and rippling oceans, snow-clad mountains and fertile plains, scenes
that
are of fairy-like beauty compared with even the most exquisite that earth
can
show. Religionists also are found here, of a slightly more progressed kind
than
those in the division immediately below, and with more definite views of
their
own limitations. They look forward more clearly to passing out of their
present
sphere, and reaching a higher state.
The
seventh, the highest, subdivision of Kâmaloka, is occupied almost entirely
by
intellectual men and women who were either pronouncedly materialistic while
on
earth, or who are so wedded to the ways in which knowledge is gained by the
lower
mind in the physical body that they continue its pursuit in the old ways,
though
with enlarged faculties. One recalls Charles Lamb’s dislike of the idea
that
in heaven knowledge would have to be gained "by some awkward process of
intuition"
instead of through his beloved books. Many a student lives for long
years,
sometimes for centuries – according to H.P.Blavatsky – literally in the
astral
library, conning eagerly all books that deal with his favourite subject,
and
perfectly contented with his lot.
Men
who have been keenly set on some line of intellectual investigation, and
have
thrown off the physical body, with their thirst for knowledge unslaked,
pursue
their object still with unwearied persistence, fettered by their clinging
to
the physical modes of study. Often such men are still sceptical as to the
higher
possibilities that lie before them, and shrink from the prospect of what
is
practically a second death – the sinking into unconsciousness ere the soul is
born
into the higher life of heaven. Politicians, statesmen, men of science,
dwell
for a while in this region, slowly disentangling themselves from the
astral
body, still held to the lower life by their keen and vivid interest in
the
movements in which they have played so large a part, and in the effort to
work
out astrally some of the schemes from which Death snatched them ere yet
they
had reached fruition.
To
all, however, sooner or later – save to that small minority who during
earth-life
never felt one touch of unselfish love, of intellectual aspiration,
of
recognition of something or some one higher than themselves – there comes a
time
when the bonds of the astral body are finally shaken off, while the soul
sinks
into brief unconsciousness of its surroundings, like the unconsciousness
that
follows the dropping off of the physical body, to be awakened by a sense of
bliss,
intense, immense, fathomless, undreamed of, the bliss of the
heaven-world,
of the world to which by its own nature it belongs.
Low
and vile may have been many of its passions, trivial and sordid many of its
longings,
but it had gleams of a higher nature, broken lights now and then from
a
purer region, and these must ripen as seeds to the time of their harvest, and
however
poor and few must yield their fair return. The man passes on to reap
this
harvest, and to eat and assimilate its fruit. (See Chapter V, on Devachan).
The
astral corpse, as it is sometimes called, or the "shell" of the
departed
entity,
consists of the fragments of the seven concentric shells before
described,
held together by the remaining magnetism of the soul. Each shell in
turn
has disintegrated, until the point is reached when mere scattered fragments
of
it remain ; these cling by magnetic attraction to the remaining shells, and
when
one after another has been reduced to this condition, until the seventh or
innermost
is reached and itself disintegrates, the man himself escapes, leaving
behind
him these remains.
The
shell drifts about vaguely in the kâmalokic world, automatically and feebly
repeating
its accustomed vibrations, and as the remaining magnetism gradually
disperses,
it falls into a more and more decayed condition, and finally
disintegrates
completely, restoring its materials to the general mass of astral
matter,
exactly as does the physical body to the physical world.
This
shell drifts wherever the astral currents may carry it, and may be
vitalised,
if not too far gone, by the magnetism of embodied souls on earth, and
so
restored to some amount of activity. It will suck up magnetism as a sponge
sucks
up water, and will then take on an illusory appearance of vitality,
repeating
more vigorously and vibration to which it was accustomed ; these are
often
set up by the stimulus of thoughts common to the departed soul and friends
and
relations on earth, and such a vitalised shell may play quite respectably
the
part of a communicating intelligence; it is however, distinguishable – apart
from
the use of astral vision – by its automatic repetitions of familiar
thoughts,
and by the total absence of all originality and of any traces of
knowledge
not possessed during physical life.
Just
as souls may be delayed in their progress by foolish and inconsiderate
friends,
so may they be aided in it by wise and well-directed efforts. Hence all
religions,
which retain any traces of the occult wisdom of their Founders,
enjoin
the use of "prayers for the dead." These prayers with their
accompanying
ceremonies
are more or less useful according to the knowledge, the love, and the
willpower
by which they were ensouled.
They
rest on that universal truth of vibration by which the universe is built,
modified,
and maintained. Vibrations are set up by the uttered sounds, arranging
astral
matter into definite forms, ensouled by the thought enshrined in the
words.
These are directed towards the Kâmalokic entity, and, striking against
the
astral body, hasten its disintegration. With the decay of occult knowledge
these
ceremonies have become less and less potent, until their usefulness has
almost
reached a vanishing point.
Nevertheless
they are still sometimes performed by a man of knowledge, and then
exert
their rightful influence. Moreover, every one can help his beloved
departed
by sending to them thoughts of love and peace and longing for their
swift
progress through the Kâmalokic world and their liberation from astral
fetters.
No one should leave his "dead" to go on a lonely way, unattended by
loving
hosts of these guardian angel thought-forms, helping them forward with
joy.
THE
MENTAL PLANE
The
mental plane, as its name implies, is that which belongs to consciousness
working
as thought ; not of the mind as it works through the brain, but as it
works
in its own world, unencumbered with physical spirit-matter. This world is
the
world of the real man. The word "man" comes from the Sanskrit root
"man" and
this
is the root of the Sanskrit verb "to think," so that man means
thinker; he
is
named by his most characteristic attribute, intelligence.
In
English the word "mind" has to stand for the intellectual
consciousness
itself,
and also for the effects produced on the physical brain by the vibration
of
that consciousness ; but we have now to conceive of the intellectual
consciousness
as an entity, an individual – a being, the vibrations of whose
life
are thoughts, thoughts which are images, not words.
This
individual is Manas, or the Thinker ; (Derived from Manas is the technical
name,
the mânasic plane. Englished as "mental." We might call it the plane
of
the
mind proper, to distinguish its activities from those of the mind working in
the
flesh.) –he is the Self, clothed in the matter, and working within the
conditions,
of the higher subdivisions of the mental plane. He reveals his
presence
on the physical plane by the vibrations he sets up in the brain and
nervous
system ; these respond to the thrills of his life by sympathetic
vibrations,
but in consequence of the coarseness of their material they can
reproduce
only a small section of his vibrations and even that very imperfectly.
Just
as science asserts the existence of a vast series of etheric vibrations, of
which
the eye can only see a small fragment, the solar light spectrum, because
it
can vibrate only within certain limits, so can the physical
thought-apparatus,
the brain and nervous system, think only a small fragment of
the
vast series of mental vibrations set up by the Thinker in his own world.
The
most receptive brains respond up to the point of what we call the great
intellectual
power ; the exceptionally receptive brains respond up to the point
of
what we call genius ; the exceptionally unreceptive brains respond only up to
the
point we call idiocy ; but every one sends beating against his brain
millions
of thought-waves to which it cannot respond, owing to the density of
its
materials, and just in proportion to its sensitiveness are the so-called
mental
powers of each. But before studying the Thinker, it will be well to
consider
his world, the mental plane itself.
The
mental plane is that which is next to the astral, and is separated from it
only
by differences of materials, just as the astral is separated from the
physical.
In fact, we may repeat what was said as to the astral and the physical
with
regard to the mental and the astral. Life on the mental plane is more
active
than on the astral, and form is more plastic. The spirit-matter of that
plane
is more highly vitalised and finer than any grade of matter in the astral
world.
The ultimate atom of astral matter has innumerable aggregations of the
coarsest
mental matter for its encircling sphere-world, so that the
disintegration
of the astral atom yields a mass of mental matter of the coarsest
kinds.
Under these circumstances it will be understood that the play of the
life-forces
on this plane will be enormously increased in activity, there being
so
much less mass to be moved by them.
The
matter is in constant ceaseless motion, taking form under every thrill of
life,
and adapting itself without hesitation to every changing motion.
"Mind-stuff,"
as it has been called, makes astral spirit-matter seem clumsy,
heavy,
and lustreless, although compared with the physical spirit-matter it is
so
fairy-light and luminous. But the law of analogy holds good, and gives us a
clue
to guide us through this super astral region, the region that is our
birthplace
and our home, although, imprisoned in a foreign land, we know it not,
and
gaze at descriptions of it with the eyes of aliens.
Once
again here, as on the two lower planes, the subdivisions of the
spirit-matter
of the plane are seven in number. Once again, these varieties
enter
into countless combinations, of every variety of complexity, yielding the
solids,
liquids, gases, and ethers of the mental plane. The word "solid"
seems
indeed
absurd, when speaking of even the most substantial forms of mind-stuff ;
yet
as they are dense in comparison with other kinds of mental materials, and as
we
have no descriptive words save such as are based on physical conditions, we
must
even use it for lack of a better.
Enough
if we understand that this plane follows the general law and order of
Nature,
which is, for our globe, the septenary basis, and that the seven
subdivisions
of matter are of lessening densities, relatively to each other, as
the
physical solids, liquids, gases, and ethers ; the seventh, or highest,
subdivision
being composed exclusively of the mental atoms.
These
subdivisions are grouped under two headings, to which the somewhat
inefficient
and unintelligible epithets "formless" and "form" have been
assigned.
(Arûpa, without form: rûpa, form. Rûpa is form, shape, body. ) The
lower
four – the first, second, third, and fourth subdivisions – are grouped
together
as "with form" ; the higher three – the fifth, sixth and seventh
subdivisions
– are grouped as "formless." The grouping is necessary, for the
distinction
is a real one, although one difficult to describe, and the regions
are
related in consciousness to the divisions in the mind itself – as will
appear
more plainly a little farther on.
The
distinction may perhaps be best expressed by saying that in the lower four
subdivisions
the vibrations of consciousness give rise to forms, to images or
pictures,
and every thought appears as a living shape ; whereas in the higher
three,
consciousness, though still, of course, setting up vibrations, seems
rather
to send them out as a mighty stream of living energy, which does not body
itself
into distinct images while it remains in this higher region, but which
steps
up a variety of forms all linked by some common condition when it rushes
into
the lower worlds.
The
nearest analogy that I can find for the conception I am trying to express is
that
of abstract and concrete thoughts ; an abstract idea of a triangle has no
form,
but connotes any plane figure contained within three right lines, the
angles
of which make two right angles ; such an idea, with conditions but
without
shape, thrown into the lower world, may give birth to a vast variety of
figures,
right-angled, isosceles, scalene, of any colour and size, but all
filling
the conditions – concrete triangles each one with a definite shape of
its
own. The impossibility of giving in words a lucid exposition of the
difference
in the action of consciousness in the two regions is due to the fact
that
words are the symbols of images and belong to the workings of the lower
mind
in the brain, and are based wholly upon those workings ; while the
"formless"
region belongs to the Pure reason, which never works within the
narrow
limits of language.
The
mental plane is that which reflects the Universal Mind in Nature, the plane
which
in our little system corresponds with that of the Great Mind in the
Kosmos.
(Mahat, the Third LOGOS, or Divine Creative Intelligence, the Brahmâ of
the
Hindus, the Mandjusri of the Northern Buddhists, the Holy Spirit of the
Christians.)
In its higher regions exist all the archetypal ideas which are now
in
course of concrete evolution, and in its lower the working out of these into
successive
forms, to be duly reproduced in the astral and physical worlds.
Its
materials are capable of combining under the impulse of thought vibrations,
and
can give rise to any combination which thought can construct ; as iron can
be
made into a spade for digging or into a sword for slaying, so can mind-stuff
be
shaped into thought-forms that help or injure ; the vibrating life of the
Thinker
shapes the materials around him, and according to his volitions so is
his
work. In that region thought and action, will and deed, are one and the same
thing
– spirit-matter here becomes the obedient servant of the life, adapting
itself
to every creative motion.
These
vibrations, which shape the matter of the plane into thought-forms, give
rise
also from their swiftness and subtlety to the most exquisite and constantly
changing
colours, waves of varying shades like the rainbow hues of
mother-of-pearl,
etherialised and brightened to an indescribable extent,
sweeping
over and through every form, so that each presents a harmony of
rippling,
living, luminous, delicate colours, including many not ever known to
earth.
Words
can give no idea of the exquisite beauty and radiance shown in
combinations
of this subtle matter, instinct with life and motion. Every seer
who
has witnessed it, Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, speaks in rapturous terms of
its
glorious beauty, and ever confesses his utter inability to describe it;
words
seem but to coarsen and deprave it, however deftly woven in its praise.
Thought-forms
naturally play a large part among the living creatures that
function
on the mental plane. They resemble those with which we are already
familiar
in the astral world, save that they are far more radiant and more
brilliantly
coloured, are stronger, more lasting, and more fully vitalised. As
the
higher intellectual qualities become more clearly marked, these forms show
very
sharply defined outlines, and there is a tendency to a singular perfection
of
geometrical figures accompanied by an equally singular purity of luminous
colour.
But, needless to say at the present stage of humanity, there is a vast
preponderance
of cloudy and irregularly shaped thoughts, the production of the
ill-trained
minds of the majority.
Rarely
beautiful artistic thoughts are also here encountered, and it is little
wonder
that painters who have caught, in dreamy vision, some glimpse of their
ideal,
often fret against their incapacity to reproduce its glowing beauty in
earth’s
dull pigments. These thought-forms are built out of the elemental
essence
of the plane, the vibrations of the thought throwing the elemental
essence
into a corresponding shape, and this shape having the thought as its
informing
life. Thus again we have "artificial elementals" created in a way
identical
with that by which they come into being in the astral regions. All
that
is said in Chapter II of their generation and of their importance may be
repeated
of those of the mental plane, with here the additional responsibility
on
their creators of the greater force and permanence belonging to those of this
higher
world.
The
elemental essence of the mental plane is formed by the Monad in the stage of
its
descent immediately preceding its entrance into the astral world, and it
constitutes
the second elemental kingdom, existing on the four lower
subdivisions
of the mental plane. The three higher subdivisions, the "formless,"
are
occupied by the first elemental kingdom, the elemental essence there being
thrown
by thought into brilliant coruscations, coloured streams, and flashes of
living
fire, instead of into definite shapes, taking as it were its first
lessons
in combined action, but not yet assuming definite limitations of forms.
On
the mental plane, in both its great divisions, exist numberless
Intelligences,
whose lowest bodies are formed of the luminous matter and
elemental
essence of that plane – Shining ones who guide the processes of
natural
order, overlooking the hosts of lower entities before spoken of, and
yielding
submission in their several hierarchies to their great overlords of the
seven
Elements. (These are the Arûpa and Rûpa Devas of the Hindus and the
Buddhists,
the "Lords of the heavenly and the earthly" of the Zoroastrians, the
Archangels
and Angels of the Christians and Mahomedans).
They
are, as may readily be imagined, beings of vast knowledge, of great power,
and
most splendid in appearance, radiant, flashing creatures, myriad-hued, like
rainbows
of changing supernal colours, of stateliest mien, calm energy
incarnate,
embodiments of resistless strength. The description of the great
Christian
Seer leaps to mind, when he wrote of a mighty angel: "A rainbow was
upon
his head, and his face was imperial as it were the sun, and his feet as
pillars
of fire.( Revelation, x, 1). "As the sound of many waters" are their
voices,
as echoes from the music of the spheres. They guide natural order, and
rule
the vast companies of the elementals of the astral world, so that their
cohorts
carry on ceaselessly the processes of nature with undeviating regularity
and
accuracy.
On
the lower mental plane are seen many Chelâs at work in their mental bodies,
(Usually
called Mâyâvi Rûpa, or illusory body, when arranged for independent
functioning
in the mental world.) --- freed for a time from their physical
vestures.
When the body is wrapped in deep sleep the true man, the Thinker, may
escape
from it, and work untrammelled by its weight in these higher regions.
From
here he can aid and comfort his fellowmen by acting directly on their
minds,
suggesting helpful thoughts, putting before them noble ideas, more
effectively
and speedily than he can do when encased in the body. He can see
their
needs more clearly and therefore can supply them more perfectly, and it is
his
highest privilege and joy thus to minister to his struggling brothers,
without
their knowledge of his service or any ideas of theirs as to the strong
arm
that lifts their burden, or the soft voice that whispers solace in their
pain.
Unseen,
unrecognised, he works, serving his enemies as gladly and as freely as
his
friends, dispensing to individuals the stream of beneficent forces that are
poured
down from the great Helpers in higher spheres. Here also are sometimes
seen
the glorious figures of the Masters, though for the most part They reside
on
the highest level of the "formless" division of the mental plane ;
and other
Great
Ones may also sometimes come hither on some mission of compassion
requiring
such lower manifestation.
Communication
between intelligences functioning consciously on this plane,
whether
human or non-human, whether in or out of the body, is practically
instantaneous,
for it is with:the "speed of thought." Barriers of space have
here
no power to divide, and any soul can come into touch with any one by merely
directing
his attention to him.
Not
only is communication thus swift, but it is also complete, if the souls are
at
about the same stage of evolution ; no words fetter and obstruct the
communion,
but the whole thought flashes from the one to the other, or, perhaps
more
exactly, each sees the thought as conceived by the other. The real barriers
between
souls are the differences of evolution ; the less evolved can know only
as
much of the more highly evolved as his is able to respond to ; the limitation
can
obviously be felt only by the higher one, as the lesser has all that he can
contain.
The
more evolved a soul, the more does he know of all around him, the nearer
does
he approach to realities ; but the mental plane has also its veils of
illusion,
it must be remembered, though they be far fewer and thinner than those
of
the astral and the physical worlds. Each soul has its own mental atmosphere,
and,
as all impressions must come through this atmosphere, they are all
distorted
and coloured. The clearer and purer, the atmosphere, and the less it
is
coloured by the personality, the fewer are the illusions that can befall it.
The
three highest subdivisions of the mental plane are the habitat of the
Thinker
himself, and he dwells on one or other of these, according to the stage
of
his evolution. The vast majority live on the lowest level, in various stages
of
evolution ; a comparatively few of the highly intellectual dwell on the
second
level, the Thinker ascending thither – to use a phrase more suitable to
the
physical than to the mental plane – when the subtler matter of that region
preponderates
in him, and thus necessitates the change ; there is of course, no
"ascending,"
no change of place, but he receives the vibrations of that subtler
matter,
being able to respond to them, and he himself is able to send out forces
that
throw its rare particles into vibration.
The
student should familiarise himself with the fact that rising in the scale of
evolution
does not move him from place to place, but renders him more and more
able
to receive impressions. Every sphere is around us, the astral, the mental,
the
buddhic, the nirvânic, and worlds higher yet, the life of the supreme God ;
we
need not stir to find them, for they are here; but our dull unreceptivity
shuts
them out more effectively than millions of miles of mere space.
We
are conscious only of that which affects us, which stirs us to responsive
vibration,
and as we become more and more receptive, as we draw into ourself
finer
and finer matter, we come into contact with subtler and subtler worlds.
Hence,
rising from one level to another means that we are weaving our vestures
of
finer materials and can receive through them the contacts of finer worlds ;
and
it means further that in the Self within these vestures diviner powers are
waking
from latency into activity, and are sending out their subtler thrills of
life.
At
the stage now reached by the Thinker, he is fully conscious of his
surroundings
and is in possession of the memory of his past. He knows the bodies
he
is wearing, through which he is contacting the lower planes, and he is able
to
influence and guide them to a great extent. He sees the difficulties, the
obstacles,
they are approaching – the results of past careless living – and he
sets
himself to pour into them energies by which they may be better equipped for
their
task.
His
direction is sometimes felt in the lower consciousness as an imperiously
compelling
force that will have its way, and that impels to a course of action
for
which all the reasons may not be clear to the dimmer vision caused by the
mental
and astral garments. Men who have done great deeds have occasionally left
on
record their consciousness of an inner and compelling power, which seemed to
leave
them no choice save to do as they had done. They were then acting as the
real
man ; the Thinkers, that are the inner men, were doing the work consciously
through
the bodies that then were fulfilling their proper functions as vehicles
of
the individual. To these higher powers all will come as evolution proceeds.
On
the third level of the upper region of the mental plane dwell the Egos of the
Masters,
and of the Initiates who are Their Chelâs, the Thinkers having here a
preponderance
of the matter of this region in their bodies. From this world of
subtlest
mental forces the Masters carry on Their beneficent work for humanity,
raining
down noble ideals, inspiring thoughts, devotional aspirations, streams
of
spiritual and intellectual help for men.
Every
force there generated, rays out in myriad directions, and the noblest,
purest
souls catch most readily these helpful influences. A discovery flashes
into
the mind of the patient searcher into Nature’s secrets ; a new melody
entrances
the ear of the great musician ; the answer to a long studied problem
illumines
the intellect of a lofty philosopher ; a new energy of hope and love
suffuses
the heart of an unwearied philanthropist. Yet men think that they are
left
uncared for, although the very phrases they use ; "the thought occurred to
me;
the idea came to me; the discovery flashed on me " unconsciously testify
to
the
truth known to their inner selves though the outer eyes be blind.
Let
us now turn to the study of the Thinker and his vestures as they are found
in
men on earth. The body of the consciousness, conditioning it in the four
lower
subdivisions of the mental plane – the mental body, as we term it – is
formed
of combinations of the matter of these subdivisions. The Thinker, the
individual,
Human Soul – formed in the way described in the latter part of this
chapter
– when he is coming into incarnation, first radiates forth some of his
energy
in vibrations that attract round him, and clothe him in, matter drawn
from
the four lower subdivisions of his own plane.
According
to the nature of the vibrations are the kinds of matter they attract ;
the
finer kinds answer the swifter vibrations and take form under their impulse
;
the coarser kinds similarly answer the slower ones ; just as a wire will
sympathetically
sound out a note – i.e., a given number of vibrations – coming
from
a wire similar in weight and tension to itself, but will remain dumb amid a
chorus
of notes from wires dissimilar to itself in these respects, so do the
different
kinds of matter assort themselves in answer to different kinds of
vibrations.
Exactly according to the vibrations sent out by the Thinker will be
the
nature of the mental body that he thus draws around him, and this mental
body
is what is called the lower mind, the lower Manas, because it is the
Thinker
clothed in the matter of the lower subdivisions of the mental plane and
conditioned
by it in his further working.
None
of his energies which are too subtle to move this matter, too swift for its
response,
can express themselves through it ; he is therefore limited by it,
conditioned
by it, restricted by it in his expression of himself. It is the
first
of his prison-houses during his incarnate life, and while his energies are
acting
within it he is largely shut off from his own higher world, for his
attention
is with the outgoing energies and his life is thrown with them into
the
mental body, often spoken as a vesture, or sheath, or vehicle – any
expression
will serve which connotes the idea that the Thinker is not the mental
body,
but formed it and uses it in order to express as much of himself as he can
in
the lower mental region.
It
must not be forgotten that his energies, still pulsing outwards, draw round
him
also the coarser matter of the astral plane as his astral body ; and during
his
incarnate life the energies that express themselves through the lower kinds
of
mental matter are so readily changed by it into the slower vibrations that
are
responded to by astral matter that the two bodies are continually vibrating
together,
and become very closely interwoven ; the coarser the kinds of matter
built
into the mental body, the more intimate becomes this union, so that the
two
bodies are sometimes classed together and even taken as one.( Thus the
Theosophist
will speak of Kâma Manas, meaning the mind as working in and with
the
desire nature, affecting and affected by the animal nature. The Vedântin
classes
the two together, and speaks of the Self as working in the
Manomayakosha,
the sheath composed of the lower mind, emotions, and passions.
The
European psychologist makes "feelings" one section of his tripartite
division
of "mind", and includes under feelings both emotions and sensations.)
When
we come to study Reincarnation we shall find this fact assuming vital
importance.
According
to the stage of evolution reached by the man will be the type of
mental
body he forms on his way to become again incarnate, and we may study, as
we
did with the astral body, the respective mental bodies of three types of men
–
a) an undeveloped man ; b) an average man ; c) a spiritually advanced man.
In the undeveloped man the mental body is but
little perceptible, a small
amount of unorganised mental matter, chiefly
from the lowest subdivisions of
the plane, being all that represents it. This
is played on almost entirely
from the lower bodies, being set vibrating
feebly by the astral storms raised
by the contacts with material objects through
the sense organs. Except when
stimulated by these astral vibrations it
remains almost quiescent, and even
under their impulses its responses are
sluggish. No definite activity is
generated from within, these blows from the
outer world being necessary to
arouse any distinct response.
The more violent the blows, the better for
the progress of the man, for each
responsive vibration aids in the embryonic
development of the mental body.
Riotous pleasure, anger, rage, pain, terror,
all these passions, causing
whirlwinds in the astral body, awaken faint
vibrations in the mental, and
gradually these vibrations, stirring into
commencing activity the mental
consciousness, cause it to add something of
its own to the impressions made on
it from without.
We have seen that the mental body is so
closely mingled with the astral that
they act as a single body, but the dawning
mental faculties add to the astral
passions a certain strength and quality not
apparent in them when they work as
purely animal qualities. The impressions made
on the mental body are more
permanent than those made on the astral, and
they are consciously reproduced
by it. Here memory and the organ of
imagination begin, and the latter
gradually moulds itself, the images from the
outer world working on the matter
of the mental body and forming its materials
into their own likeness.
These images, born of the contacts of the
senses, draw round themselves the
coarsest mental matter; the dawning powers of
consciousness reproduce these
images, and thus accumulate a store of
pictures that begin to stimulate action
initiated from within, from the wish to experience
again through the outer
organs the vibrations that were found
pleasant, and to avoid those productive
of pain.
The mental body then begins to stimulate the
astral, and to arouse in it the
desires that, in the animal, slumber until awakened
by a physical stimulus ;
hence we see in the undeveloped man a
persistent pursuit of
sense-gratification never found in the lower
animals, a lust, a cruelty, a
calculation, to which they are strangers. The
dawning powers of the mind,
yoked to the service of the senses, make of
man a far more dangerous and
savage brute than any animal, and the
stronger and more subtle forces inherent
in the mental-spiritual matter lend to the
passion-nature an energy and a
keenness that we do not find in the animal
world.
But these very excesses lead to their own
correction by the sufferings which
they cause, and these resultant experiences
play upon the consciousness and
set up new images on which the imagination
works. These stimulate the
consciousness to resist many of the
vibrations that reach it by way of the
astral body from the external world, and to
exercise its volition in holding
the passions back instead of giving them free
rein.
Such resistant vibrations are set up in, and
attract towards, the mental body,
finer combinations of mind-stuff and tend
also to expel from it the coarser
combinations that vibrate responsively to the
passional notes set up in the
astral body ; by this struggle between the
vibrations set up by passion-images
and the vibrations set up by the imaginative
reproduction of past experiences,
the mental body grows, begins to develop a
definite organisation, and to
exercise more and more initiative as regards
external activities.
While the earth life is spent gathering
experiences, the intermediate life is
spent assimilating them, as we shall see in
detail in the following chapter,
so that in each return to earth the Thinker
has an increased stock of
faculties to take shape as his mental body.
Thus the undeveloped man, whose
mind is the slave of his passions, grows into
the average man, whose mind is a
battleground in which passions and mental
powers wage war with varying
success, about balanced in their forces, but
who is gradually gaining the
mastery over his lower nature.
In the average man, the mental body is much
increased in size, shows a certain
amount of organisation, and contains a fair
proportion of matter drawn from
the second, third, and fourth subdivisions of
the mental plane. The general
law which regulates all the building up and
modifying of the mental body may
here be fitly studied, though it is the same
principle already seen working in
the lower realms of the astral and physical
worlds.
Exercise increases, disuse atrophies and
finally destroys. Every vibration set
up in the mental body causes changes in its
constituents, throwing out of it,
in the part affected, the matter that cannot
vibrate sympathetically, and
replacing it by suitable materials drawn from
the practically illimitable
store around. The more a series of vibrations
is repeated, the more does the
part affected by them increase in development
; hence, it may be noted in
passing, the injury done to the mental body
by over-specialisation of mental
energies.
Such mistaken direction of these powers
causes a lopsided development of the
mental body ; it becomes proportionately over
developed in the region in which
these forces are continually playing and
proportionately undeveloped in other
parts, perhaps equally important. A
harmonious and proportionate all-round
development is the object to be sought, and
for this we need a calm
self-analysis and a definite direction of
means to ends. A knowledge of this
law, further explains certain familiar
experiences, and affords a sure hope of
progress. When a new study is commenced, or a
change in favour of high
morality is initiated, the early stages are
found to be fraught with
difficulties ; sometimes the effort is even
abandoned because the obstacles in
the way of its success appear to be
insurmountable.
At the beginning of any new mental
undertaking, the whole automatism of the
mental body opposes it ; the materials
habituated to vibrate in a particular
way, cannot accommodate themselves to the new
impulses, and the early stage
consists chiefly of sending out thrills of
force which are frustrated, so far
as setting up vibrations in the mental body
are concerned, but which are the
necessary preliminary to any such sympathetic
vibrations, as they shake out of
the body the old refractory materials and
draw into it the sympathetic kinds.
During this process, the man is not conscious
of any progress; he is conscious
only of the frustration of his efforts and of
the dull resistance he
encounters. Presently, if he persists, as the
newly attracted materials begin
to function, he succeeds better in his
attempts, and at last, when all the old
materials are expelled and the new are
working, he finds himself succeeding
without an effort, and his object is
accomplished.
The critical time is during the first stage ;
but if he trust in the law, as
sure in its working as every other law in
Nature, and persistently repeat his
efforts, he must succeed ; and a knowledge of
this fact may cheer him when
otherwise he would be sinking in despair. In
this way, then, the average man
may work on, finding with joy that as he
steadily resists the promptings of
the lower nature he is conscious they are
losing their power over him, for he
is expelling from his mental body all the
materials that are capable of being
thrown into sympathetic vibrations. Thus the
mental body gradually comes to be
composed of the finer constituents of the
four lower subdivisions of the
mental plane, until it has become radiant and
exquisitely beautiful form which
is the mental body of the –
Spiritually developed man. From this body all
the coarser combinations have
been eliminated, so that the objects of the
senses no longer find in it, or in
the astral body connected with it, materials
that respond sympathetically to
their vibrations. It contains only the finer
combinations belonging to each of
the four subdivisions of the lower mental
world, and of these again the
materials of the third and fourth sub-planes
very much predominate in its
composition over the materials of the second and
first, making it responsive
to all the higher workings of the intellect,
to the delicate contacts of the
higher arts, to all the pure thrills of
loftier emotions.
Such a body enables the Thinker who is
clothed in it to express himself much
more fully in the lower mental region and in
the astral and physical worlds ;
its materials are capable of a far wider
range of responsive vibrations, and
the impulses from a loftier realm mould it
into nobler and subtler
organisation. Such a body is rapidly becoming
ready to reproduce every impulse
from the Thinker which is capable of
expression on the lower subdivisions of
the mental plane ; it is growing into a
perfect instrument for activities in
this lower mental world.
A clear understanding of the nature of the
mental body would much modify
modern education, and would make it far more
serviceable to the Thinker than
it is at present. The general characteristics
of this body depend on the past
lives of the Thinker on earth, as will be
thoroughly understood when we have
studied Reincarnation and Karma. The body is
constituted on the mental plane,
and its materials depend on the qualities
that the Thinker has garnered within
himself as the results of his past experiences.
All that education can do is to provide such
external stimuli as shall arouse
and encourage the growth of the useful
faculties he already possesses, and
stunt and help in the eradication of those
that are undesirable. The drawing
out of these inborn faculties, and not the
cramming of the mind with facts, is
the object of true education.
Nor need memory be cultivated as a separate
faculty, for memory depends on
attention – that is on the steady
concentration of the mind on the subject
studied – and on the natural affinity between
the subject and the mind. If the
subject be liked – that is, if the mind has a
capacity for it – memory will
not fail, provided due attention be paid.
Therefore education should cultivate
the habit of steady concentration, of
sustained attention, and should be
directed according to the inborn faculties of
the pupil.
Let us now pass into the "formless"
divisions of the mental plane, the region
which is man’s true home during the cycle of
his reincarnations, into which he
is born, a baby soul, an infant Ego, an
embryonic individuality, when he
begins his purely human evolution.( See
Chapters VII and VIII, on
"Reincarnation").
The outline of this Ego, the Thinker, is oval
in shape, and hence H.P.
Blavatsky speaks of this body of Manas which
endures throughout all his
incarnations as the Auric Egg. Formed of the
matter of the three highest
subdivisions of the mental plane, it is
exquisitely fine, a film of rarest
subtlety, even at its first inception ; and,
as it develops, it becomes a
radiant object of supernal glory and beauty,
the shining One, as it has been
aptly named. ( This is the Augœides of the
Neo-Platonists, the "spiritual
body" of St. Paul).
What is
this Thinker? He is the divine Self, as already said, limited, or
individualised, by this subtle body drawn
from the materials of the "formless"
region of the mental plane. (The Self,
working in the Vignyânamayakosha, the
sheath of discriminative knowledge, according
to the Vedântic classification).
This matter – drawn around a ray of the Self,
a living beam of the one Light
and Life of the universe – shuts off this ray
from its Source, so far as the
external world is concerned, encloses it
within a filmy shell of itself, and
so makes it "an individual." The
life is the Life of the LOGOS, but all the
powers of that Life are lying latent,
concealed ; everything is there
potentially, germinally, as the tree is
hidden within the tiny germ in the
seed.
This seed is dropped into the soil of human
life that its latent forces may be
quickened into activity by the sun of joy and
the rain of tears, and he fed by
the juices of the life-soil that we call experience,
until the germ grows into
a mighty tree, the image of its generating
Sire. Human evolution is the
evolution of the Thinker; he takes on bodies
on the lower mental and astral,
and the physical planes, wears then through
earthly, astral, lower mental
life, dropping them successively at the
regular stages of this life-cycle as
he passes from world to world, but ever
storing up within himself the fruits
he has gathered by their use on each plane.
At first, as little conscious as a baby’s
earthly body, he almost slept
through life after life, till the experiences
playing on him from without
awakened some of his latent forces into
activity; but gradually he assumed
more and more part in the direction of his
life, until, with manhood reached,
he took his life into his own hands, and an
ever-increasing control over his
future destiny.
The
growth of the permanent body which, with the divine consciousness, forms the
Thinker
is extremely slow. Its technical name is the causal body, because he
gathers
up within it the results of all experiences, and these act as causes,
moulding
future lives. It is the only permanent one among the bodies during
incarnation,
the mental, the astral, and physical bodies being reconstituted for
each
fresh life ; as each perishes in turn, it hands on its harvest to the one
above
it, and thus all the harvests are finally stored in the permanent body ;
when
the Thinker returns to incarnation he sends out his energies, constituted
of
these harvests, on each successive plane, and thus draws round him a anew
body
after body suitable to his past.
The
growth of the causal body itself, as said, is very slow, for it can vibrate
only
in answer to impulses that can be expressed in the very subtle matter of
which
it is composed, thus weaving them into the texture of its being. Hence the
passions,
which play so large a part in the early stages of human evolution,
cannot
directly affect its growth. The Thinker can work into himself only the
experiences
that can be reproduced in the vibrations of the causal body, and
these
must belong to the mental region, and be highly intellectual or loftily
moral
in their character ; other wise its subtle matter can give no sympathetic
vibration
in answer.
A
very little reflection will convince any one how little material, suitable for
the
growth of this lofty body, he affords by his daily life ; hence the slowness
of
evolution, the little progress made. The Thinker should have more of himself
to
put out in each successive life, and, when this is the case, evolution goes
swiftly
forward. Persistence in evil courses reacts in a kind of indirect way on
the
causal body, and does more harm than the mere retardation of growth ; it
seems
after a long time to cause a certain incapacity to respond to the
vibrations
set up by the opposite good, and thus to delay growth for a
considerable
period after the evil has been renounced.
Directly
to injure the causal body, evil of a highly intellectual and refined
kind
is necessary, the "spiritual evil" mentioned in the various
Scriptures of
the
world. This is fortunately rare, rare as spiritual good, and found only
among
the highly progressed, whether they be following the Right-hand or the
Left-hand
Path. (The Right-hand Path is that which leads to divine manhood, to
Adeptship
used in the service of the worlds. The Left-hand Path is that which
also
leads to Adeptship, but to Adeptship that is used to frustrate the progress
of
evolution and is turned to selfish individual ends. They are sometimes called
the
White and Black Paths respectively.)
The
habitat of the Thinker, of the Eternal Man, is on the fifth subplane, the
lowest
level of the "formless" region of the mental plane. The great masses
of
mankind
are here, scarce yet awake, still in the infancy of their life. The
Thinker
develops consciousness slowly, as his energies, playing on the lower
planes,
there gather experience, which is indrawn with these energies as they
return
to him treasure-laden with the harvest of life. This eternal Man, the
individualised
Self, is the actor in every body that he wears ; it is his
presence
that gives the feeling of " I " alike to body and mind, the " I
" being
that
which is self-conscious and which, by illusion, identifies itself with that
vehicle
in which it is most actively energising.
To
the man of the senses the " I " is the physical body and the desire
nature ;
he
draws from these his enjoyment, and he thinks of these as himself, for his
life
is in them. To the scholar the " I " is the mind, for in its exercise
lies
his
joy and therein his life is concentrated. Few can rise to the abstract
heights
of spiritual philosophy, and feel this Eternal Man as " I ", with
memory
ranging
back over past lives and hopes ranging forward over future births.
The
physiologists tell us that if we cut the finger we do not really feel the
pain
there where the blood is flowing, but that pain is felt in the brain, and
is
by imagination thrown outwards to the place of the injury ; the feeling of
pain
in the finger is, they say an illusion ; it is put by imagination at the
point
of contact with the object causing the injury ; so also will a man feel
pain
in an amputated limb, or rather in the space the limb used to occupy.
Similarly
does the one " I ", the Inner Man, feel suffering and joy in the
sheaths
which enwrap him, at the points of contact with the external world, and
feels
the sheath to be himself, knowing not that this feeling is an illusion,
and
that he is the sole actor and experiencer in each sheath.
Let
us now consider, in this light, the relations between the higher and lower
mind
and their action on the brain. The mind, Manas, the Thinker, is one, and is
the
Self in the causal body; it is the source of innumerable energies, of
vibrations
of innumerable kinds. These it sends out, raying outwards from
itself.
The subtlest and finest of these are expressed in the matter of the
causal
body, which alone is fine enough to respond to them ; they form what we
call
the Pure Reason, whose thoughts are abstract, whose method of gaining
knowledge
is intuition ; its very "nature is knowledge," and it recognises
truth
at
sight as congruous with itself.
Less
subtle vibrations pass outwards, attracting the matter of the lower mental
region,
and these are the Lower Manas, or lower mind – the coarser energies of
the
higher expressed in denser matter ; these we call the intellect, comprising
reason,
judgement, imagination, comparison, and the other mental faculties ; its
thoughts
are concrete, and its method is logic ; it argues, it reasons, it
infers.
These vibrations, acting through astral matter on the etheric brain, and
by
that on the dense physical brain, set up vibrations therein, which are the
heavy
and slow reproductions of themselves – heavy and slow, because the
energies
lose much of their swiftness in moving the heavier matter.
This
feebleness of response when a vibration is initiated in a rare medium and
then
passes into a dense one is familiar to every student of physics. Strike a
bell
in air and it sounds clearly ; strike it in hydrogen, and let the hydrogen
vibrations
have to set up the atmospheric waves, and how faint the result.
Equally
feeble are the workings of the brain in response to the swift and subtle
impacts
of the mind ; yet that is all that the vast majority know as their
"consciousness."
The
immense importance of the mental workings of this "consciousness" is
due to
the
fact that it is the only medium whereby the Thinker can gather the harvest
of
experience by which he grows. While it is dominated by the passions it runs
riot,
and he is left unnourished and therefore unable to develop ; while it is
occupied
wholly in mental activities concerned with the outer world, it can
arouse
only his lower energies; only as he is able to impress on it the true
object
of its life, does it commence to fulfil its most valuable functions of
gathering
what will arouse and nourish his higher energies.
As
the Thinker develops he becomes more and more conscious of his own inherent
powers,
and also of the workings of his energies on the lower planes, of the
bodies
which those energies have drawn around him. He at last begins to try to
influence
them, using his memory of the past to guide his will, and these
impressions
we call "conscience" when they deal with morals and "flashes of
intuition
" when they enlighten the intellect.
When
these impressions are continuous enough to be normal, we speak of their
aggregate
as "genius." The higher evolution of the Thinker is marked by his
increasing
control over his lower vehicles, by their increasing susceptibility
to
his influence, and their increasing contributions to growth. Those who would
deliberately
aid in this evolution may do so by a careful training of the lower
mind
and of the moral character, by steady and well directed effort.
The
habit of quiet, sustained, and sequential thought, directed to non-worldly
subjects,
of meditation, of study, develops the mind-body and renders it a
better
instrument ; the effort to cultivate abstract thinking is also useful, as
this
raises the lower mind towards the higher, and draws into it the subtlest
materials
of the lower mental plane.
In
these and cognate ways all may actively co-operate in their own higher
evolution,
each step forward making the succeeding steps more rapid. No effort,
not
even the smallest, is lost, but is followed by its full effect, and every
contribution
gathered and handed inwards is stored in the treasure-house of the
causal
body for future use. Thus evolution, however slow and halting, is yet
ever
onwards, and the divine Life, ever unfolding in every soul, slowly subdues
all
things to itself.
DEVACHAN
The
word Devachan is the theosophical name for heaven, and, literally
translated,
means the shining land, or the Land of the Gods. ( Devasthan, the
place
of the Gods, is the Sanskrit equivalent. It is the Svarga of the Hindus ;
the
Sukhâvati of the Buddhists ; the Heaven of the Zoroastrians and Christians,
and
of the less materialised among the Mohammedans). It is a specially guarded
part
of the mental plane, whence all sorrow and all evil are excluded by the
action
of the great spiritual Intelligences who superintend human evolution ;
and
it is inhabited by human beings who have cast off their physical and astral
bodies,
and who pass into it when their stay in Kâmaloka is completed.
The
devachanic life consists of two stages, of which the first is passed in the
four
lower subdivisions of the mental plane, in which the Thinker still wears
the
mental body and is conditioned by it, being employed in assimilating the
materials
gathered by it during the earth-life from which he has just emerged.
The
second stage is spent in the "formless world," the Thinker escaping
from the
mental
body, and living in his own unencumbered life in the full measure of the
self-consciousness
and knowledge to which he has attained.
The
total length of time spent in Devachan depends upon the amount of material
for
the devachanic life which the soul has brought with it from its life on
earth.
The harvest of the fruit for consumption and assimilation in Devachan
consists
of all the pure thoughts and emotions generated during earth-life, all
the
intellectual and moral efforts and aspirations, all the memories of useful
work
and plans for human service – everything which is capable of being worked
into
mental and moral faculty, thus assisting in the evolution of the soul.
Not
one is lost, however feeble, however fleeting ; but selfish animal passions
cannot
enter, there being no material in which they can be expressed. Nor does
all
the evil in the past life, though it may largely preponderate over the good,
prevent
the full reaping of whatever scant harvest of good there may have been ;
the
scantiness of the harvest may render the devachanic life very brief, but the
most
depraved, if he has had any faint longings after the right, any stirrings
of
tenderness, must have a period of devachanic life in which the seed of good
may
put forth its tender shoots, in which the spark of good may be gently fanned
into
a tiny flame.
In
the past, when men lived with their hearts largely fixed on heaven and
directed
their lives with a view to enjoying its bliss, the period spent in
Devachan
was very long, lasting sometimes for many thousands of years ; at the
present
time, men’s minds being so much more centred on earth, and so few of
their
thoughts comparatively being directed towards the higher life, their
devachanic
periods are correspondingly shortened.
Similarly,
the time spent in the higher and lower regions of the mental plane (
Called
technically the Arûpa and Rûpa Devachan – existing on the arûpa and rûpa
levels
of the mental plane ) respectively is proportionate to the amount of
thought
generated severally in the mental and causal bodies ; All the thoughts
belonging
to the personal self, to the life just closed – with all its
ambitions,
interests, loves, hopes, and fears – all these have their fruition in
the
Devachan where forms are found ; while those belonging to the higher mind,
to
the regions of abstract, impersonal thinking, have to be worked out in the
"formless"
devachanic region. The majority of people only just enter that lofty
region
to pass swiftly out again ; some spend there a large portion of their
devachanic
existence ; a few spend there almost the whole.
Ere
entering into any details let us try to grasp some of the leading ideas
which
govern the devachanic life, for it is so different from physical life that
any
description of it is apt to mislead by its very strangeness. People realise
so
little of their mental life, even as led in the body, that when they are
presented
with a picture of mental life out of the body they lose all sense of
reality,
and feel as though they had passed into a world of dream.
The
first thing to grasp is that mental life is far more intense, vivid, and
nearer
to reality than the life of the senses. Everything we see and touch and
hear
and taste and handle down here is two removes farther from the reality than
everything
we contact in Devachan. We do not even see things as they are, but
the
things that we see down here have two more veils of illusion enveloping
them.
Our sense of reality here is an entire delusion ; we know nothing of
things,
of people, as they are ; all that we know of them are the impressions
they
make on our senses, and the conclusions, often erroneous, which our reason
deduces
from the aggregate of these impressions. Get and put side by side the
ideas
of a man held by his father, his closest friend, the girl who adores him,
his
rival in business, his deadliest enemy, and a casual acquaintance, and see
how
incongruous the pictures.
Each
can only give the impressions made on his own mind, and how far are they
from
the reality of what the man is, seen by the eyes that pierces all veils and
behold
the whole man. We know of each of our friends the impressions they make
on
us, and these are strictly limited by our capacity to receive ; a child may
have
as his father a great statesman of lofty purpose and imperial aims, but
that
guide of nation’s destinies is to him only his merriest play fellow, his
most
enticing storyteller.
We
live in the midst of illusions, but we have the feeling of reality, and this
yields
us content. In Devachan we shall also be surrounded by illusions –
though,
as said, two removes nearer to reality – and there also we shall have a
similar
feeling of reality which will yield us content.
The
illusions of earth, though lessened, are not escaped from in the lower
heavens,
though contact is more real and more immediate. For it must never be
forgotten
that these heavens are part of a great evolutionary scheme, and, until
man
has found the real Self, his own unreality makes him subject to illusions.
One
thing however, which produces the feeling of reality in earth-life and of
unreality
when we study Devachan, is that we look at earth-life from within,
under
the full sway of its illusions, while we contemplate Devachan from
outside,
free for the time from its veil of Mâyâ.
In
Devachan the process is reversed, and its inhabitants feel their own life to
be
the real one and look on the earth-life as full of the most patent illusions
and
misconceptions. On the whole, they are nearer to the truth than the physical
critics
of their heaven-world.
Next,
the Thinker – being clad only in the mental body and being in the
untrammelled
exercise of its powers – manifests the creative nature of these
powers
in a way and to an extent that down here we can hardly realise. On earth
a
painter, a sculptor, a musician, dreams, dreams of exquisite beauty, creating
their
visions by the powers of the mind ; but when they seek to embody them in
the
coarse materials of earth they fall far short of the mental creation. The
marble
is too resistant for perfect form, the pigments to muddy for perfect
colour.
In
heaven, all they think, is at once reproduced in form, for the rare and
subtle
matter of the heaven-world is mind stuff, the medium in which the mind
normally
works when free from passion, and it takes shape with every mental
impulse.
Each man, therefore, in a very real sense, makes his own heaven, and
the
beauty of his surroundings is definitely increased, according to the wealth
and
energy of his mind. As the soul develops his powers, his heaven grows more
and
more subtle and exquisite; all the limitations in heaven are self-created,
and
heaven expands and deepens with the expansion and deepening of the soul.
While
the soul is weak and selfish, narrow and ill-developed, his heaven shares
these
pettinesses; but it is always the best that is in the soul, however poor
that
best may be. As the man evolves, his devachanic lives become fuller,
richer,
more and more real, and advanced souls come into ever closer and closer
contact
with each other, enjoying wider and deeper intercourse.
A
life on earth, thin, feeble, vapid, and narrow, mentally and morally, produces
a
comparatively thin, feeble, vapid and narrow life in Devachan, where only the
mental
and the moral survive. We cannot have more than we are, and our harvest
is
according to our sowing. "Be not deceived; God is not mocked ; for
whatsoever
a
man soweth, that,"- and neither more nor less, - "shall he also
reap." Our
indolence
and greediness would fain reap where we have not sown, but in this
universe
of law, the Good Law, mercifully just, brings to each the exact wages
of
his work.
The
mental impressions, or mental pictures, we make of our friends will dominate
us
in Devachan. Round each soul throng those he loved in life, and every image
of
the loved ones that live in the heart becomes a living companion of the soul
in
heaven. And they are unchanged. They will be to us there as they were here,
and
no otherwise. The outer semblance of our friend as it affected our senses,
we
form out of mind-stuff in Devachan by the creative powers of the mind; what
was
here a mental picture is there – as in truth it was here, although we knew
it
not – an objective shape in living mind-stuff, abiding in our own mental
atmosphere
; only what is dull and dreamy here is forcibly living and vivid
there.
And
with regard to the true communion, that of the soul with soul? That is
closer,
nearer, dearer than anything we know here, for, as we have seen, there
is
no barrier on the mental plane between soul and soul; exactly in proportion
to
the reality of the soul-life in us is the reality of soul-communion there ;
the
mental image of our friend is our own creation ; his form is as we knew and
loved
it ; and his soul breathes through that form to ours just to the extent
that
his soul and ours can throb in sympathetic vibration.
But
we can have no touch with those we knew on earth if the ties were only of
the
physical or astral body, or if they and we were discordant in the inner life
;
therefore into our Devachan no enemy can enter, for sympathetic accord of
minds
and hearts can alone draw men together there. Separateness of heart and
mind
means separation in the heavenly life, for all that is lower than the heart
and
mind can find no means of expression there. With those who are far beyond us
in
evolution we come into contact just as far as we can respond to them ; great
ranges
of their being will stretch beyond our ken, but all that we can touch is
ours.
Further, these greater ones can and do aid us in the heavenly life, under
conditions
we shall study presently, helping us to grow towards them, and thus
be
able to receive more and more. There is then no separation by space or time,
but
there is separation by absence of sympathy, by lack of accord between hearts
and
minds.
In
heaven we are with all whom we love and with all whom we admire, and we
commune
with them to the limit of our capacity, or, if we are more advanced, of
theirs.
We meet them in the forms we loved on earth, with perfect memory of our
earthly
relationships, for heaven is the flowering of all earth’s buds, and the
marred
and feeble loves of earth expand into beauty and power there. The
communion
being direct, no misunderstandings of words or thoughts can arise ;
each
sees the thought his friend creates, or as much of it as he can respond to.
Devachan,
the heaven-world, is a world of bliss, of joy unspeakable. But it is
much
more than this, much more than a rest for the weary. In Devachan all that
was
valuable in the mental and moral experiences of the Thinker during the life
just
ended is worked out, meditated over, and is gradually transmuted into
definite
mental and moral faculty, into powers which he will take with him to
his
next rebirth. He does not work into the mental body the actual memory of the
past,
for the mental body will, in due course, disintegrate ; the memory of the
past
abides only in the Thinker himself, who has lived through it and who
endures.
But these facts of past experiences are worked into mental capacity, so
that
if a man has studied a subject deeply the effects of that study will be the
creation
of a special faculty to acquire and master that subject when it is
first
presented to him in another incarnation.
He
will be born with a special aptitude for that line of study, and will pick it
up
with great facility. Everything thought upon earth is thus utilised in
Devachan
; every aspiration is worked up into power ; all frustrated efforts
become
faculties and abilities ; struggles and defeats reappear as materials to
be
wrought into instruments of victory ; sorrows and errors shine luminous as
precious
metals to be worked up into wise and well-directed volitions.
Schemes
of beneficence, for which power and skill to accomplish were lacking in
the
past, are in Devachan worked out in thought, acted out, as it were, stage by
stage,
and the necessary power and skill are developed as faculties of the mind
to
be put into use in a future life on earth, when the clever and earnest
student
shall be reborn as a genius, when the devotee shall be reborn as a
saint.
Life then, in Devachan, is no mere dream, no lotus-land of purposeless
idling
; it is the land in which the mind and heart develop, unhindered by gross
matter
and by the trivial cares, where weapons are forged for earth’s fierce
battlefields,
and where the progress of the future is secured.
When
the Thinker has consumed in the mental body all the fruits belonging to it
of
his earthly life, he shakes it off and dwells unencumbered in his own place.
All
the mental faculties which express themselves on the lower levels are drawn
within
the causal body – with the germs of the passional life that were drawn
into
the mental body when it left the astral shell to disintegrate in Kâmaloka –
and
these become latent for a time, lying within the causal body, forces which
remain
concealed for lack of material in which to manifest. (The thoughtful
student
may here find a fruitful suggestion on the problem of continuing
consciousness
after the cycle of the universe is trodden. Let him place Îshvara
in
the place of the Thinker, and let the faculties that are the fruits of a life
represent
the human lives that are the fruits of a Universe. He may then catch
some
glimpse of what is necessary for consciousness, during the interval between
universes).
The
mental body, the last of the temporary vestures of the true man,
disintegrates,
and its materials return to the general matter of the mental
plane,
whence they were drawn when the Thinker last descended into incarnation.
Thus
the causal body alone remains, the receptacle and treasure-house of all
that
has been assimilated from the life that is over. The Thinker has finished a
round
of his long pilgrimage and dwells for a while in his own native land.
His
condition as to consciousness depends entirely on the point he has reached
in
evolution. In his early stages of life he will merely sleep, wrapped in
unconsciousness,
when he has lost his vehicles on the lower planes. His life
will
pulse gently within him, assimilating any little results from his closed
earth-existence
that may be capable of entering into his substance ; but he will
have
no consciousness of his surroundings. But as he develops, this period of
his
life becomes more and more important, and occupies a greater proportion of
his
Devachanic existence.
He
becomes self-conscious, and thereby conscious of his surroundings – of the
not-self
– and his memory spreads before him the panorama of his life,
stretching
backwards into the ages of the past. He sees the causes that worked
out
their effects in the last of his life-experiences, and studies the causes he
has
set going in this latest incarnation. He assimilates and works into the
texture
of the causal body all that was noblest and loftiest in the closed
chapter
of his life, and by his inner activity he develops and co-ordinates the
materials
in his causal body. He comes into direct contact with great souls,
whether
in or out of the body at the time, enjoys communion with them, learns
from
their riper wisdom and longer experience.
Each
succeeding devachanic life is richer and deeper ; with his expanding
capacity
to receive, knowledge flows into him in fuller tides ; more and more he
learns
to understand the workings of the law, the conditions of evolutionary
progress,
and thus returns to earth-life each time with greater knowledge, more
effective
power, his vision of the goal of life becoming ever clearer and the
way
to it more plain before his feet.
To
every Thinker, however unprogressed, there comes a moment of clear vision
when
the time arrives for his return to the life of the lower worlds. For a
moment
he sees his past and the causes working from it into the future, and the
general
map of his next incarnation is also unrolled before him. Then the clouds
of
lower matter surge round him and obscure his vision, and the cycle of another
incarnation
begins with the awakening of the powers of the lower mind, and their
drawing
round him, by their vibrations, materials from the lower mental plane to
form
the new mental body for the opening chapter of his life-history. This part
of
our subject, however, belongs in its detail to the chapters on reincarnation.
We
left the soul asleep, (See Chapter III., On Kâmaloka, ) having shaken off the
last
remains of his astral body, ready to pass out of Kâmaloka into Devachan,
out
of purgatory into heaven. The sleeper awakens to a sense of joy unspeakable,
of
bliss immeasurable, of peace that passeth understanding. Softest melodies are
breathing
round him, tenderest hues greet his opening eyes, the very air seems
music
and colour, the whole being is suffused with light and harmony.
Then
through the golden haze dawn sweetly the faces loved on earth, etherialised
into
the beauty which expresses their noblest, loveliest emotions, unmarred by
the
troubles and the passions of the lower worlds. Who may tell the bliss of
that
awakening, the glory of that first dawning of the heaven-world?
We
will now study the conditions in detail of the seven subdivisions of
Devachan,
remembering that in the four lower we are in the world of form, and a
world,
moreover, in which every thought presents itself at once as a form. This
world
of form belongs to the personality, and every soul is therefore surrounded
by
as much of his past life as has entered into his mind and can be expressed in
pure
mind-stuff.
The
first, or lowest, region is the heaven of the least progressed souls, whose
highest
emotion on earth was a narrow, sincere, and sometimes selfish love for
family
and friends. Or it may be that they felt some loving admiration for some
one
they met on earth who was purer and better than themselves, or felt some
wish
to lead a higher life, or some passing aspiration towards mental and moral
expansion.
There
is not much material here out of which faculty can be moulded, and their
life
is but very slightly progressive ; their family affections will be
nourished
and a little widened, and they will be reborn after a while with a
somewhat
improved emotional nature, with more tendency to recognise and respond
to
a higher ideal. Meanwhile they are enjoying all the happiness they can
receive;
their cup is but a small one, but it is filled to the brim with bliss,
and
they enjoy all that they are able to conceive of heaven. Its purity, its
harmony,
play on their undeveloped faculties and woo them to awaken into
activity,
and the inner stirrings begin which must precede any manifested
budding.
The
next division of devachanic life comprises men and women of every religious
faith
whose hearts during their earthly lives had turned with loving devotion to
God,
under any name, under any form. The form may have been narrow, but the
heart
rose up in aspiration, and here finds the object of its loving worship.
The
concept of the Divine which was formed by their mind when on earth here
meets
them in the radiant glory of devachanic matter, fairer, diviner, than
their
wildest dreams.
The
Divine One limits Himself to meet the intellectual limits of His worshipper,
and
in whatever form the worshipper has loved and worshipped Him, in that form
He
reveals Himself to his longing eyes, and pours out on him the sweetness of
His
answering love. The souls are steeped in religious ecstasy, worshipping the
One
under the forms their piety sought on earth, losing themselves in the
raptures
of devotion, in communion with the Object they adore. No one finds
himself
a stranger in the heavenly places, the Divine veiling Himself in the
familiar
form. Such souls grow in purity and in devotion under the sun of this
communion,
and return to earth with these qualities much intensified. Nor is all
their
devachanic life spent in this devotional ecstasy, for they have full
opportunities
of maturing every other quality they may possess of heart and
mind.
Passing
onwards to the third region, we come to those noble and earnest beings
who
were devoted servants of humanity while on earth, and largely poured out
their
love to God in the form of works for man. They are reaping the reward of
their
good deeds by developing larger powers of usefulness and increased wisdom
in
their direction. Plans of wider beneficence unroll themselves before the mind
of
the philanthropist, and like an architect, he designs the future edifice
which
he will build in a coming life on earth ; he matures the schemes which he
will
then work out into actions, and like a creative God plans his universe of
benevolence,
which shall be manifested in gross matter when the time is ripe.
These
souls will appear as the great philanthropists of yet unborn centuries,
who
will incarnate on earth with innate dower of unselfish love and of power to
achieve.
Most
varied in character, perhaps, of all the heavens is the fourth, for here
the
powers of the most advanced souls find their exercise, so far as they can be
expressed
in the world of form. Here the kings of art and of literature are
found,
exercising all their powers of form, of colour, of harmony, and building
greater
faculties with which to be reborn when they return to earth. Noblest
music,
ravishing beyond description, peals forth from the mightiest monarchs of
harmony
that the earth has known, as Beethoven, no longer deaf, pours out his
imperial
soul in strains of unexampled beauty, making even the heaven world more
melodious
as he draws down harmonies from higher spheres, and sends them
thrilling
through the heavenly places. Here also we find the masters of painting
and
of sculpture, learning new hues of colour, new curves of undreamed beauty.
And
here also are others who failed, though greatly aspiring, and who are here
transmuting
longings into powers, and dreams into faculties, that shall be
theirs
in another life. Searchers into Nature are here, and they are learning
her
hidden secrets ; before their eyes are unrolling systems of worlds with all
their
hidden mechanism, woven series of workings of unimaginable delicacy and
complexity
; they shall return to earth as great "discoverers," with unerring
intuitions
of the mysterious ways of Nature.
In
this heaven also are found students of the deeper knowledge, the eager,
reverent
pupils who sought the Teachers of the race, who longed to find a
Teacher,
and patiently worked at all that had been given out by some one of the
great
spiritual Masters who have taught humanity. Here their longings find their
fruition,
and Those they sought, apparently in vain, are now their instructors ;
the
eager souls drink in the heavenly wisdom, and swift their growth and
progress
as they sit at their Master’s feet. As teachers and as light-bringers
shall
they be born again on earth, born with the birthmark of the teacher’s high
office
upon them.
Many
a student on earth, all unknowing of these subtler workings, is preparing
himself
a place in this fourth heaven, as he bends with a real devotion over the
pages
of some teacher of genius, over the teachings of some advanced soul. He is
forming
a link between himself and the teacher he loves and reverences, and in
the
heaven-world that soul-tie will assert itself, and draw together into
communion
the souls it links. As the sun pours down its rays into many rooms,
and
each room has all it can contain of the solar beams, so in the heaven-world
do
these great souls shine into hundreds of mental images of themselves created
by
their pupils, fill them with life, with their own essence, so that each
student
has his master to teach him and yet shuts out none other from his aid.
Thus,
for periods long in proportion to the materials gathered for consumption
upon
earth, dwell men in these heaven-worlds of form, where all good that the
last
personal life had garnered finds its full fruition, its full working out
into
minutest detail. Then as we have seen, when everything is exhausted, when
the
last drop has been drained from the cup of joy, the last crumb eaten of the
heavenly
feast, all that has been worked up into faculty, that is of permanent
value,
is drawn within the causal body, and the Thinker shakes off him and the
then
disintegrating body through which he has found expression on the lower
levels
of the devachanic world. Rid of this mental body, he is in his own world,
to
work up whatever of his harvest can find material suitable for it in that
high
realm.
A
vast number of souls touch the lowest level of the formless world as it were
but
for a moment, taking brief refuge there, since all lower vehicles have
fallen
away. But so embryonic are they that they have as yet no active powers
that
there can function independently, and they become unconscious as the mental
body
slips away into disintegration. Then, for a moment, they are aroused to
consciousness,
and a flash of memory illumines their past and they see its
pregnant
causes ; and a flash of foreknowledge illumines their future, and they
see
such effects as will work out in the coming life. This is all that very many
are
as yet able to experience of the formless world. For, here again, as ever,
the
harvest is according to the sowing, and how should they who have sowed
nothing
for that lofty region expect to reap any harvest therein?
But
many souls have during their earth-life, by deep thinking and noble living,
sown
much seed, the harvest of which belongs to this fifth devachanic region,
the
lowest of the three heavens of the formless world. Great is now their reward
for
having so risen above the bondage of the flesh and of passion, and they
begin
to experience the real life of man, the lofty existence of the soul
itself,
unfettered by vestures belonging to the lower worlds. They learn truths
by
direct vision, and see the fundamental causes of which all concrete objects
are
the results; they study the underlying unities, whose presence is marked in
the
lower worlds by the variety of irrelevant details.
Thus
they gain a deep knowledge of law, and learn to recognise its changeless
workings
below results apparently the most incongruous, thus building into the
body
that endures firm unshakable convictions, that will reveal themselves in
earth-life
as deep intuitive certainties of the soul, above and beyond all
reasoning.
Here also the man studies his own past, and carefully disentangles
the
causes he has set going ; he marks their interaction, the resultants
accruing
from them, and sees something of their working out in the lives yet in
the
future.
In
the sixth heaven are more advanced souls, who during earth-life had felt but
little
attraction for its passing shows, and who had devoted all their energies
to
the higher intellectual and moral life. For them there is no veil upon the
past,
their memory is perfect and unbroken, and they plan the infusion into
their
next life of energies that will neutralise many of the forces that are
working
for hindrance, and strengthen many of those that are working for good.
This
clear memory enables them to form definite and strong determinations as to
actions
which are to be done and actions which are to be avoided, and these
volitions
they will be able to impress on their lower vehicles in their next
birth,
making certain classes of evils impossible, contrary to what is felt to
be
the deepest nature, and certain kinds of good inevitable, the irresistible
demands
of a voice that will not be denied.
These
souls are born into the world with high and noble qualities which render a
base
life impossible, and stamp the babe from its cradle as one of the pioneers
of
humanity. The man who has attained to this sixth heaven sees unrolled before
him
the vast treasures of the Divine Mind in creative activity and can study the
archetypes
of all forms that are being gradually evolved in the lower worlds.
There
he may bathe himself in the fathomless ocean of the Divine Wisdom, and
unravel
the problems connected with the working out of those archetypes, the
partial
good that seems as evil to the limited vision of men encased in flesh.
In
this wider outlook, phenomena assume their due relative proportions, and he
sees
the justification of the divine ways, no longer to him "past finding
out"
so
far as they are concerned with the evolution of the lower worlds.
The
questions over which on earth he pondered, and whose answers ever eluded his
eager
intellect, are here solved by an insight that pierces through phenomenal
veils
and sees the connecting links which make the chain complete. Here also the
soul
is in the immediate presence of, and in full communion with, the greater
souls
that have evolved in our humanity, and, escaped from the bonds which make
"the
past" of earth, he enjoys "the ever-present" of an endless and
unbroken
life.
Those
we speak of here as "the mighty dead" are there the glorious living,
and
the
soul enjoys the high rapture of their presence, and grows more like them as
their
strong harmony attunes his vibrant nature to their key.
Yet
higher, lovelier, gleams the seventh heaven, where Masters and Initiates
have
their intellectual home. No soul can dwell there ere yet is has passed
while
on earth through the narrow gateway of Initiation, the strait gate that
"leadeth
unto life" unending. ( See Chapter XI, on "Man’s Ascent." The
Initiate
has
stepped out of the ordinary line of evolution, and is treading a shorter and
steeper
road to human perfection).
That
world is the source of the strongest intellectual and moral impulses that
flow
down to earth ; thence are poured forth the invigorating streams of the
loftiest
energy. The intellectual life of the world has there its root; thence
genius
receives its purest inspirations. To the souls that dwell there it
matters
little whether, at the time, they be or be not connected with the lower
vehicles
; they ever enjoy their lofty self-consciousness and their communion
with
those around them ; whether, when "embodied" they suffuse their lower
vehicles
with as much of this consciousness as they can contain is a matter for
their
own choice – they can give or withhold as they will.
And
more and more their volitions are guided by the will of the Great Ones,
whose
will is one with the will of the LOGOS, the will which seeks ever the good
of
the worlds. For here are being eliminated the last vestiges of separateness –
(
Ahamkâra, the " I " making principle, necessary in order that self
consciousness
may be evolved, but transcended when its work is over) – in all
who
have not yet reached final emancipation – all, that is, who are not yet
Masters
– and, as these perish, the will becomes more and more harmonised with
the
will that guides the worlds.
Such
is an outline of the "seven heavens" into one or other of which men
pass in
due
time after the "change that men call death." For death is only a
change that
gives
the soul a partial liberation, releasing him from the heaviest of his
chains.
It is but a birth into a wider life, a return after a brief exile on
earth
to the soul’s true home, a passing from a prison into the freedom of the
upper
air. Death is the greatest of earth’s illusions ; there is no death, but
only
changes in life’s conditions. Life is continuous, unbroken, unbreakable ;
"unborn,
eternal, constant," it perishes not with the perishing of the bodies
that
clothe it. We might as well think that the sky is falling when a pot is
broken,
as imagine that the soul perishes when the body falls to pieces. ( A
simile
used in the Bhagavad Purâna).
The
physical, astral and mental planes are "the three worlds" though
which lies
the
pilgrimage of the soul, again and again repeated. In these three worlds
revolves
the wheel of human life, and souls are bound to that wheel throughout
their
evolution, and are carried by it to each of these worlds in turn. We are
now
in a position to trace a complete life-period of the soul, the aggregate of
these
periods making up its life, and we can also distinguish clearly the
difference
between personality and individuality.
A
soul when its stay in the formless world of Devachan is over, begins a new
life-period
by putting forth the energies which function in the form-world of
the
mental plane, these energies being the resultant of the preceding
life-periods.
These passing outwards, gather round themselves, from the matter
of
the four lower mental levels, such materials as are suitable for their
expression,
and thus the new mental body for the coming birth is formed. The
vibration
of these mental energies arouses the energies which belong to the
desire-nature,
and these begin to vibrate ; as they awake and throb, they
attract
to themselves suitable materials for their expression from the matter of
the
astral world, and these form the new astral body for the approaching
incarnation.
Thus
the Thinker becomes clothed with his mental and astral vestures, exactly
expressing
the faculties evolved during the past stage of his life. He is drawn,
by
forces which will be explained later, (See Chapter VII , on
"Reincarnation")
to
the family which is to provide him with a suitable physical encasement, and
becomes
connected with this encasement through his astral body.
During
prenatal life the mental body becomes involved with the lower vehicles,
and
this connection becomes closer and closer through the early years of
childhood,
until at the seventh year they are as completely in touch with the
Thinker
himself as the stage of evolution permits. He then begins to slightly
control
his vehicles, if sufficiently advanced, and what we call conscience is
his
monitory voice. In any case, he gathers experience through these vehicles,
and
during the continuance of earth-life, stores the gathered experience in its
own
proper vehicle, in the body connected with the plane to which the experience
belongs.
When
the earth-life is over the physical body drops away, and with it his power
of
contacting the physical world, and his energies are therefore confined to the
astral
and mental planes. In due course, the astral body decays, and the
outgoings
of his life are confined to the mental plane, the astral faculties
being
gathered up and laid by within himself as latent energies.
Once
again, in due course, its assimilative work completed, the mental body
disintegrates,
its energies in turn becoming latent in the Thinker, and he
withdraws
his life entirely into the formless devachanic world, his own native
habitat.
Thence, all experiences of his life period in the three worlds being
transmuted
into faculties and powers for future use, are contained within
himself,
he anew commences his pilgrimage and treads the cycle of another
life-period
with increased power and knowledge.
The
personality consists of the transitory vehicles through which the Thinker
energises
in the physical, astral, and lower mental worlds, and of all the
activities
connected with these. These are bound together by the links of memory
caused
by impressions made on the three lower bodies ; and, by the
self-identification
of the Thinker with his three vehicles, the personal " I "
is
set up. In the lower stages of evolution this " I " is in the
physical and
passional
vehicles, in which the greatest activity is shown, later it is in the
mental
vehicle, which then assumes predominance.
The
personality with its transient feeling, desires, passions, thus forms a
quasi-independent
entity, though drawing all its energies from the Thinker it
enwraps,
and as its qualifications, belonging to the lower worlds, are often in
direct
antagonism to the permanent interests of the "Dweller in the body,"
conflict
is set up in which victory inclines sometimes to the temporary
pleasure,
sometimes to the permanent gain. The life of the personality begins
when
the Thinker forms his new mental body, and it endures until that mental
body
disintegrates at the close of its life in the form-world of Devachan.
The
individuality consists of the Thinker himself, the immortal tree that puts
out
all these personalities as leaves, to last through the spring, summer and
autumn
of human life. All that the leaves take in and assimilate enriches the
sap
that courses through their veins, and in the autumn this is withdrawn into
the
parent trunk, and the dry leaf falls and perishes. The Thinker alone lives
forever
; he is the man for whom "the hour never strikes," the eternal youth
who
as
the Bhagavad Gitâ has it, puts on and casts off bodies as a man puts on new
garments
and throws off the old.
Each
personality is a new part for the immortal Actor, and he treads the stage
of
life over and over again, only in the life-drama each character he assumes is
the
child of the preceding ones and the father of those to come, so that the
life-drama
is a continuous history, the history of the Actor who plays the
successive
parts.
To
the three worlds that we have studied is confined the life of the Thinker,
while
he is treading the earlier stages of human evolution. A time will come in
the
evolution of humanity when its feet will enter loftier realms, and
reincarnation
will be of the past. But while the wheel of rebirth and death is
turning,
a man is bound thereon by desires that pertain to the three worlds, his
life
is led in these three regions.
To
the realms that lie beyond we now may turn, albeit but little can be said of
them
that can be either useful or intelligible. Such little as may be said,
however,
is necessary for the outlining of the Ancient Wisdom.
THE
BUDDHIC AND NIRVÂNIC PLANES
We
have seen that man is an intelligent self-conscious entity, the Thinker, clad
in
bodies belonging to the lower mental, astral and physical planes ; we have
now
to study the Spirit which is his innermost Self, the source whence he
proceeds.
This
Divine spirit, a ray from the LOGOS, partaking of His own essential Being,
has
the triple nature of the LOGOS Himself, and the evolution of man as man
consists
in the gradual manifestation of these three aspects, their development
from
latency into activity, man thus repeating in miniature the evolution of the
universe.
Hence
he is spoken of as the microcosm, the universe being the macrocosm; he is
called
the mirror of the universe, the image, or reflection, of God ; ( "Let us
make
man in our image, after our likeness." – Gen. I, 26. ) – and hence also
the
ancient
axiom, "As above, so below." It is this in-folded deity that is the
guarantee
of man’s final triumph ; this is the hidden motive power that makes
evolution
at once possible and inevitable, the upward-lifting force that slowly
overcomes
every obstacle and every difficulty. It was this Presence that Matthew
Arnold
dimly ( ) sensed when he wrote of the "Power, not ourselves, that makes
for
righteousness," but he erred in thinking "not ourselves," for it
is the very
innermost
Self of all – truly not our separated selves, but our Self. (Âtma, the
reflection
of Paramâtmâ.)
This
Self is the One, and hence is spoken of as the Monad – ( It is called the
Monad,
whether it be the Monad of spirit-matter, Âtma ; or the Monad of form or
the
human Monad, Âtma-Buddhi-Manas. In each it is a unit and acts as a unit,
whether
the unit be one-faced, two-faced, or three-faced) – and we shall need to
remember
that this Monad is the outbreathed life of the LOGOS, containing within
itself
germinally, or in a state of latency, all the divine powers and
attributes.
These
powers are brought into manifestation by the impacts arising from contact
with
the objects of the universe into which the Monad is thrown ; the friction
caused
by these gives rise to responsive thrills from the life subjected to
their
stimuli, and one by one the energies of the life pass from latency into
activity.
The human Monad – as it is called for the sake of distinction – shows
as
we have already said, the three aspects of Deity, being the perfect image of
God,
and in the human cycle these three aspects are developed one after the
other.
These
aspects are the three great attributes of the Divine Life as manifested in
the
universe, existence, bliss, and intelligence – ( Satchitânanda is often used
in
the Hindu Scriptures as the abstract name of Brahman, the Trimûrti being the
concrete
manifestation of these) –the three LOGOI severally showing these forth
with
all the perfection possible within the limits of manifestation.
In
man, these aspects are developed in the reversed order – intelligence, bliss,
existence
– "existence" implying the manifestation of the divine powers. In the
evolution
of man that we have so far studied we have been watching the
development
of the third aspect of the hidden deity – the development of
consciousness
as intelligence. Manas, the Thinker, the human Soul, is the image
of
the Universal Mind, of the Third LOGOS, and all his long pilgrimage on the
three
lower planes is devoted to the evolution of this third aspect, the
intellectual
side of the divine nature in man.
While
this is proceeding, we may consider the other divine energies as rather
brooding
over the man, the hidden source of his life, than as actively
developing
their forces within him. They play within themselves, unmanifest.
Still,
the preparation of these forces for manifestation is slowly proceeding;
they
are being roused from that unmanifested life that we speak of as latency by
the
ever-increasing energy of the vibrations of the intelligence, and the
bliss-aspect
begins to send outwards its first vibrations – faint pulsings of
its
manifested life thrill forth.
This
bliss-aspect is named in theosophical terminology Buddhi, a name derived
from
the Sanskrit word for wisdom, and it belongs to the fourth, or buddhic
plane
of our universe, the plane, in which there is still duality, but were
there
is no separation. Words fail me to convey the idea, for words belong to
the
lower planes where duality and separation are ever connected, yet some
approach
to the idea may be gained.
It
is a state in which each is himself, with a clearness and vivid intensity
which
cannot be approached on lower planes, and yet in which each feels himself
to
include all others, to be one with them, inseparate and inseparable. (The
reader
should refer back to the Introduction, p. 36, and reread the description
given
by Plotinus of this state, commencing: "They likewise see all
things." And
he
should note the phrases, "Each likewise is everything," and "In each,
however
a
different quality predominates.)
Its
nearest analogy on earth is the condition between two persons who are united
by
a pure, intense love, which makes them feel as one person, causing them to
think,
feel, act, live as one, recognising no barrier, no difference, no mine
and
thine, no separation. (It is for this reason that the bliss of divine love
has
in many Scriptures been imaged by the profound love of husband and wife, as
in
the Bhagavad Purâna of the Hindus, the Song of Solomon of the Hebrews and
Christians.
This is also the love of the Sufi mystics, and indeed of all
mystics.)
It
is a faint echo from this plane which makes men seek happiness by union
between
themselves and the object of their desire, no matter what that object
may
be. Perfect isolation is perfect misery ; to be stripped naked of
everything,
to be hanging in the void of space, in utter solitude, nothing
anywhere
save the lone individual, shut out from all, shut into the separated
self
– imagination can conceive no horror more intense. The antithesis to this
is
union, and perfect union is perfect bliss.
As
this bliss-aspect of the Self begins to send outwards its vibrations, these
vibrations,
as on the planes below, draw round themselves the matter of the
plane
on which they are functioning, and thus is formed gradually the buddhic
body,
or bliss-body, as it is appropriately termed. (Ânandamayakosha, or
bliss-sheath,
of the Vedântins. It is also the body of the sun, the solar body,
of
which a little is said in the Upanishads and elsewhere.)
The
only way in which the man can contribute to the building of this glorious
form
is by cultivating pure, unselfish, all-embracing, beneficent love, love
"that
seeketh not its own" – that is, love that is neither partial, nor seeks
any
return for its outflowing. This spontaneous outpouring of love is the most
marked
of the divine attributes, the love that gives everything, that asks
nothing.
Pure love brought the universe into being, pure love maintains it, pure
love
draws it upwards towards perfection, towards bliss.
And
wherever man pours out love on all who need it, making no difference,
seeking
no return, from pure spontaneous joy in the outpouring, there that man
is
developing the bliss-aspect of the Deity within him, and is preparing that
body
of beauty and joy ineffable into which the Thinker will rise, casting away
the
limits of separateness, to find himself, and yet one with all that lives.
This
"the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," whereof
wrote St.
Paul,
the great Christian Initiate ; and he raised charity, pure love, above all
other
virtues, because by that alone can man on earth contribute to that
glorious
dwelling. For a similar reason is separateness called "the great
heresy"
by the Buddhist, and "union" is the goal of the Hindu ; liberation is
the
escape from the limitations that keep us apart, and selfishness is the
root-evil,
the destruction whereof is the destruction of all pain.
The
fifth plane, the Nirvânic, is the plane of the highest human aspect of the
God
within us, and this aspect is named by theosophists Âtmâ, or the Self. It is
the
plane of pure existence, of divine powers in their fullest manifestation in
our
fivefold universe – what lies beyond on the sixth and seventh planes is
hidden
in the unimaginable light of God.
This
âtmic, or nirvânic, consciousness, the consciousness belonging to life on
the
fifth plane, is the consciousness attained by those lofty Ones, the first
fruits
of humanity, who have already completed the cycle of human evolution, and
who
are called Masters. (Known as Mahâtmâs, great Spirits, and Jivanmuktas,
liberated
souls, who remain connected with physical bodies for the helping of
humanity.
Many other great Beings also live on the nirvânic plane.) They have
solved
in Themselves the problem of uniting the essence of individuality with
non-separateness,
and live, immortal Intelligences, perfect in wisdom, in bliss,
in
power.
When
the human Monad comes forth from the LOGOS, it is as though from the
luminous
ocean of Âtmâ a tiny thread of light was separated off from the rest by
a
film of buddhic matter, and from this hung a spark which becomes enclosed in
an
egg-like casing of matter belonging to the formless levels of the mental
plane.
"The
spark hangs from the flame by the finest thread of Fohat." ( Book of
Dzyan,
Stanza
vii, 5, ; Secret Doctrine, vol. I, p. 66, 1893 ed. ; p. 98 Adyar Edition)
As
evolution proceeds, this luminous egg grows larger and more opalescent, and
the
tiny thread becomes a wider and wider channel through which more and more of
the
âtmic life pours down. Finally, they merge – the third with the second, and
the
twain with the first, as flame merges with flame and no separation can be
seen.
The
evolution of the fourth and fifth planes belongs to a future period of our
race,
but those who choose the harder path of swifter progress may tread it even
now,
as will be explained later. (see Chapter XI, on "Man’s Ascent.") On
that
path
the bliss body is quickly evolved, and a man begins to enjoy the
consciousness
of that loftier region, and knows the bliss which comes from the
absence
of separative barriers, the wisdom which flows in when the limits of the
intellect
are transcended. Then is the wheel escaped from which binds the soul
in
the lower worlds, and then is the first foretaste of the liberty which is
found
perfected on the nirvânic plane.
The
nirvânic consciousness is the antithesis of annihilation; it is existence
raised
to a vividness and intensity inconceivable to those who know only the
life
of the senses and the mind. As the farthing rush-light to the splendour of
the
sun at noon, so is the nirvânic to the earth-bound consciousness, and to
regard
it as an annihilation because the limits of the earthly consciousness
have
vanished, is as though a man, knowing only the rush-light, should say that
light
could not exist without a wick immersed in tallow. That Nirvâna is, has
been
born witness to in the past in the Scriptures of the world by Those who
enjoy
it and live its glorious life, and is still borne witness to by others of
our
race who have climbed that lofty ladder of perfected humanity, and who
remain
in touch with earth that the feet of our ascending race may mount its
rungs
unfalteringly.
In
Nirvâna dwell the mighty Beings who accomplished Their own human evolution in
past
universes, and who came forth with the LOGOS when He manifested Himself to
bring
this universe into existence. They are His ministers in the administration
of
the worlds, the perfect agents of His will. The Lords of all the hierarchies
of
the Gods and lower ministrants that we have seen working on the lower planes
have
here Their abiding-place, for Nirvâna is the heart of the universe, whence
all
its life-currents proceed. Hence the Great Breath comes forth, the life of
all,
and thither it is indrawn when the universe has reached its term. There is
the
Beatific Vision for which mystics long, there the unveiled Glory, the
Supreme
Goal.
The
Brotherhood of Humanity – nay, the Brotherhood of all things – has its sure
foundation
on the spiritual planes, the âtmic and buddhic, for here alone is
unity,
and here alone perfect sympathy is found. The intellect is the separative
principle
in man, that marks off the " I " from the " not I ," that
is conscious
of
itself, and sees all else as outside itself and alien. It is the combative,
struggling,
self-assertive principle, and from the plane of the intellect
downwards
the world presents a scene of conflict, bitter in proportion as the
intellect
mingles in it. Even the passion-nature is only spontaneously combative
when
it is stirred by the feeling of desire and finds anything standing between
itself
and the object of its desires; it becomes more and more aggressive as the
mind
inspires its activity, for then it seeks to provide for the gratification
of
future desires, and tries to appropriate more and more from the stores of
Nature.
But
the intellect is spontaneously combative, its very nature being to assert
itself
as different from others, and here we find the root of separateness, the
ever-springing
source of divisions among men.
But
unity is at once felt when the buddhic plane is reached, as though we
stepped
from a separate ray, diverging from all other rays, into the sun itself,
from
which radiate all the rays alike.
A
being standing in the sun, suffused with its light, and pouring it forth,
would
feel no difference between ray and ray, but would pour forth along one as
readily
and easily as along another. And so with the man who has once
consciously
attained the buddhic plane ; he feels the brotherhood that others
speak
of as an ideal, and pours himself out into any one who wants assistance,
giving
mental, moral, astral, physical help exactly as it is needed.
He
sees all beings as himself, and feels that all he has is theirs as much as
his;
nay, in many cases, as more theirs than his, because their need is greater,
their
strength being less. So do the elder brothers in a family bear the family
burdens,
and shield the little ones from suffering and privation ; to the spirit
of
brotherhood weakness is a claim for help and loving protection, not an
opportunity
for oppression.
Because
They had reached this level and mounted even higher, the great Founders
of
religions have ever been marked by Their overwelling compassion and
tenderness,
ministering to the physical as well as to the inner wants of men, to
every
man according to his need. The consciousness of this inner unity, the
recognition
of the One Self dwelling equally in all, is the one sure foundation
of
Brotherhood ; all else save this is frangible.
This
recognition, moreover, is accompanied by the knowledge that the stage in
evolution
reached by different human and non-human beings depends chiefly on
what
we may call their age. Some began their journey in time very much later
than
others, and, though the powers in each be the same, some have unfolded far
more
of those powers than others, simply because they have had a longer time for
the
process than their younger brethren. As well blame and despise the seed
because
it is not yet a flower, the bud because it is not yet the fruit, the
babe
because it is not yet the man, and blame and despise the germinal and baby
souls
around us because they have not yet developed to the stage we ourselves
occupy.
We do not blame ourselves because we are not yet as Gods ; in time we
shall
stand where our elder Brothers are standing.
Why
should we blame the still younger souls who are not yet as we? The very word
brotherhood
connotes identity of blood and inequality of development ; and it
therefore
represents exactly the link between all creatures in the universe –
identity
of the essential life, and difference in the stages reached in the
manifestation
of that life.
We
are one in our origin, one in the method of our evolution, one in our goal,
and
the differences of age and stature but give opportunity for the growth of
the
tenderest and closest ties. All that a man would do for his brother of the
flesh,
dearer to him than himself, is the measure of what he owes to each who
shares
with him the one Life. Men are shut out from their brothers’ hearts by
differences
of race, of class, of country ; the man who is wise by love rises
above
all these petty differences, and sees all drawing their life from the one
source,
all as part of his family.
The
recognition of this Brotherhood intellectually, and the endeavour to live it
practically,
are so stimulative of the higher nature of man, that it was made
the
one obligatory object of the Theosophical Society, the single "article of
belief"
that all who would enter its fellowship must accept. To live it, even to
a
small extent, cleanses the heart and purifies the vision ; to live it
perfectly
would be to eradicate all stain of separateness, and to let the pure
shining
of the Self irradiate us, as a light through flawless glass.
Never
let it be forgotten that this Brotherhood is, whether men ignore it or
deny
it. Man’s ignorance does not change the laws of nature, nor vary by one
hair’s
breadth her changeless, irresistible march. Her laws crush those who
oppose
them, and break into pieces everything which is not in harmony with them.
Therefore
can no nation endure that outrages Brotherhood, no civilisation can
last
that is built on its antithesis. We have not to make brotherhood ; it
exists.
We have to attune our lives into harmony with it, if we desire that we
and
our works shall not perish.
It
may seem strange to some that the buddhic plane – a thing to them misty and
unreal
– should thus influence all planes below it, and that its forces should
ever
break into pieces all that cannot harmonise itself with them in the lower
worlds.
Yet so it is, for this universe is an expression of spiritual forces,
and
they are the guiding, moulding energies pervading all things, and slowly,
surely,
subduing all things to themselves.
Hence
this Brotherhood, which is a spiritual unity, is a far more real thing
than
any outward organisation ; it is a life and not a form, "wisely and
sweetly
ordering
all things." It may take innumerable forms, suitable to the times, but
the
life is one ; happy they who see its presence, and make themselves the
channels
of its living force.
The
student has now before him the constituents of the human constitution, and
the
regions to which these constituents respectively belong; so a brief summary
should
enable him to have a clear idea of this complicated whole.
The
human Monad is Âtma-Buddhi-Manas, or, as sometimes translated, the Spirit,
the
Spiritual Soul, and Soul, of man. The fact that these three are but aspects
of
the Self makes possible man’s immortal existence, and though these three
aspects
are manifested separately and successively, their substantial unity
renders
it possible for the Soul to merge itself in the spiritual Soul, giving
to
the latter the precious essence of individuality, and for this individualised
Spiritual
Soul to merge itself in the Spirit, colouring it – if the phrase may
be
permitted with the hues due to individuality, while leaving uninjured its
essential
unity with all other rays of the LOGOS and with the LOGOS Himself.
These
three form the seventh, sixth and fifth principles of man, and the
materials
which limit and encase them, i.e., which make their manifestation and
activity
possible, are drawn respectively from the fifth (nirvânic), the fourth
(buddhic),
and the third (mental), planes of our universe. The fifth principle
further
takes to itself a lower body on the mental plane, in order to come into
contact
with the phenomenal worlds, and thus intertwines itself with the fourth
principle,
the desire-nature, or Kâma, belonging to the second or astral plane.
Descending
to the first, the physical plane, we have the third, second and first
principles
– the specialised life, or Prâna ; the etheric double, its vehicle ;
the
dense body, which contacts the coarser materials of the physical world. We
have
already seen that sometimes Prâna is not regarded as a "principle,"
and
then
the interwoven desire and mental bodies take rank together as Kâma Manas ;
the
pure intellect is called the Higher Manas, and the mind apart from desire
Lower
Manas.
The
most convenient conception of man is perhaps that which most closely
represents
the facts as to the one permanent life and the various forms in which
it
works and which condition its energies, causing the variety in manifestation.
Then
we see the Self as the one Life, the source of all energies, and the forms
as
the buddhic, causal, mental, astral, and physical (etheric and dense) bodies.
(
Linga Sharira was the name originally given to the etheric body, and must not
be
confused with the Linga Sharira of Hindu philosophy. Sthula Sharira is the
Sanskrit
name for the dense body.)
It
will be seen that the difference is merely a question of names, and that the
sixth,
fifth, fourth, and third "principles" are merely Âtmâ working in the
Buddhic,
causal, mental and astral bodies, while the second and first
"principles
" are the two lowest bodies themselves. This sudden change in the
method
of naming is apt to cause confusion in the mind of the student, and as
H.P.
Blavatsky, our revered teacher, expressed much dissatisfaction with the
then
current nomenclature as confused and misleading, and desired others and
myself
to try and improve it, the above names, as descriptive, simple, and
representing
the facts, are here adopted.
The
various subtle bodies of man that we have now studied form in their
aggregate
what is usually called the "aura" of the human being. This aura has
the
appearance of an egg-shaped luminous cloud, in the midst of which is the
dense
physical body, and from its appearance it has often been spoken of as
though
it were nothing more than such a cloud. What is usually called the aura
is
merely such parts of the subtle bodies as extend beyond the periphery of the
dense
physical body ; each body is complete in itself, and interpenetrates those
that
are coarser than itself ; it is larger or smaller according to its
development,
and all that part of it that overlaps the surface of the dense body
is
termed the aura. The aura is thus composed of the overlapping portions of the
etheric
double, the desire body, the mental body, the causal body, and in rare
cases
the buddhic body, illuminated by the Âtmic radiance.
It
is sometimes dull, coarse and dingy ; sometimes magnificently radiant in
size,
light, and colour ; it depends entirely on the stage of evolution reached
by
the man, on the development of his different bodies, on the moral and mental
character
he has evolved. All his varying passions, desires, and thoughts are
herein
written in form, in colour, in light, so that "he that runs may read
" if
he
has eyes for such script. Character is stamped thereon as well as fleeting
changes,
and no deception is there possible as in the mask we call the physical
body.
The increase in size and beauty of the aura is the unmistakable mark of
the
man’s progress, and tells of the growth and purification of the Thinker and
his
vehicles.
REINCARNATION
We
are now in a position to study one of the pivotal doctrines of the Ancient
Wisdom,
the doctrine of reincarnation. Our view of it will be clearer and more
in
congruity with natural order, if we look at it as universal in principle, and
then
consider the special case of the reincarnation of the human soul.
In
studying it, this special case is generally wrenched from its place in
natural
order, and is considered as a dislocated fragment, greatly to its
detriment.
For all evolution consists of an evolving life, passing from form to
form
as it evolves, and storing up in itself the experiences gained through the
forms
; the reincarnation of the human soul is not the introduction of a new
principle
into evolution, but the adaptation of the universal principle to meet
the
conditions rendered necessary by the individualisation of the continuously
evolving
life.
Mr.
Lafcadio Hearn ( "Mr. Hearn has lost his way in expressing – but not, I
think,
in his inner view – in part of his exposition of the Buddhist statement
of
this doctrine, and his use of the word "Ego" will mislead the reader
of his
very
interesting chapter on this subject, if the distinction between real and
illusory
ego is not readily kept in mind.") has put this point well in
considering
the bearing of the idea of the pre-existence on the scientific
thought
of the West. He says: -
"With
the acceptance of the doctrine of evolution, old forms of thought crumbled
;
new ideas everywhere arose to take the place of worn-out dogmas ; and we now
have
the spectacle of a general intellectual movement in directions strangely
parallel
with Oriental philosophy. The unprecedented rapidity and multiformity
of
scientific progress during the last fifty years could not have failed to
provoke
an equally unprecedented intellectual quickening among the
non-scientific.
"
"That
the highest and most complex organisms have been developed from the lowest
and
simplest ; that a single physical basis of life is the substance of the
whole
living world ; that no line of separation can be drawn between the animal
and
vegetable ; that the difference between life and non-life is only a
difference
of degree, not of kind ; that matter is not less incomprehensible
than
mind, while both are but varying manifestations of one and the same unknown
reality
– these have already become the commonplaces of the new philosophy."
"After
the first recognition even by theology of physical evolution, it was easy
to
predict that the recognition of psychical evolution could not be indefinitely
delayed
; for the barrier erected by old dogma to keep men from looking backward
had
been broken down. And today for the student of scientific psychology the
idea
of pre-existence passes out of the realm of theory into the realm of fact,
proving
the Buddhist explanation of the universal mystery quite as plausible as
any
other."
"None
but very hasty thinkers,’ wrote the late Professor Huxley, ‘will reject it
on
the ground of inherent absurdity. Like the doctrine of evolution itself, that
of
transmigration has its roots in the world of reality ; and it may claim such
support
as the great argument from analogy is capable of supplying." (Evolution
and
Ethics, p. 61, ed. 1894 – Kokoro, Hints and Echoes of Japanese Inner Life,
by
Lafcadio Hearn, pp. 237-39 london, 1896)."
Let
us consider the Monad of form, Âtma-Buddhi. In this Monad, the outbreathed
life
of the LOGOS, lie hidden all the divine powers, but, as we have seen, they
are
latent, not manifest and functioning. They are to be gradually aroused by
external
impacts, it being of the very nature of life to vibrate in answer to
vibrations
that play upon it.
As
all possibilities of vibrations exist in the Monad, any vibration touching it
will
arouse its corresponding vibratory powers, and in this way one force after
another
will pass from the latent to the active state. (From the static to the
kinetic
condition, the physicist would say.) Herein lies the secret of evolution
;
the environment acts on the form of the living creature – and all things, be
it
remembered, live – and this action, transmitted through the enveloping form
to
the life, the Monad, within it, arouses responsive vibrations which thrill
outwards
from the Monad through the form, throwing its particles, in turn, into
vibrations,
and rearranging them into a shape corresponding, or adapted, to the
initial
impact.
This
is the action and reaction between the environment and the organism, which
have
been recognised by all biologists, and which are considered by some as
giving
a sufficient mechanical explanation of evolution. Their patient and
careful
observation of these actions and reactions yields, however, no
explanation
why the organism should thus react to stimuli, and the Ancient
Wisdom
is needed to unveil the secret of evolution, by pointing to the Self in
the
heart of all forms, the hidden mainspring of all the movements of nature.
Having
grasped this fundamental idea of a life containing the possibility of
responding
to every vibration that can reach it from the external universe, the
actual
response being gradually drawn forth by the play upon it of external
forces,
the next fundamental idea to be grasped is that of the continuity of
life
and forms.
Forms
transmit their peculiarities to other forms that proceed from them, these
other
forms being part of their own substance, separated off to lead an
independent
existence. By fission, by budding, by extrusion of germs, by
development
of the offspring within the maternal womb, a physical continuity is
preserved,
every new form being derived from a preceding form and reproducing
its
characteristics. ( The student might wisely familiarise himself with the
researches
of Weissman on the continuity of germ-plasm.)
Science
groups these facts under the name of the law of heredity, and its
observations
on the transmission of form are worthy of attention, and are
illuminative
of the workings of Nature in the phenomenal world. But it must be
remembered
that it applies only to the building of the physical body, into which
enter
the materials provided by the parents.
Her
more hidden workings, those workings of life without which form could not
be,
have received no attention, not being susceptible of physical observation,
and
this gap can only be filled by the teachings of the Ancient Wisdom, given by
Those
who of old used superphysical powers of observation, and verifiable
gradually
by every pupil who studies patiently in Their schools.
There
is continuity of life as well as continuity of form, and it is the
continuing
life – with ever more and more of its latent energies rendered active
by
the stimuli received through successive forms – which resumes into itself the
experiences
obtained by its incasings in form ; for when the form perishes, the
life
has the record of those experiences in the increased energies aroused by
them,
and is ready to pour itself into the new forms derived from the old,
carrying
with it this accumulated store.
While
it was in the previous form, it played through it, adapting it to express
each
newly awakened energy; the form hands on these adaptations, inwrought into
its
substance, to the separated part of itself that we speak of as its
offspring,
which, beings of its substance, must needs have the peculiarities of
that
substance; the life pours itself into that offspring with all its awakened
powers,
and moulds it yet further ; and so on and on.
Modern
science is proving more and more clearly that heredity plays an
ever-decreasing
part in the evolution of the higher creatures, that mental and
moral
qualities are not transmitted from parents to offspring, and that the
higher
qualities the more patent is this fact ‘ the child of the genius is
oft-times
a dolt; commonplace parents give birth to a genius.
A
continuing substratum there must be, in which mental and moral qualities
inhere,
in order that they may increase, else would Nature, in this most
important
department of her work, show erratic uncaused production instead of
orderly
continuity. On this science is dumb, but the Ancient Wisdom teaches that
this
continuing substratum is the Monad, which is the receptacle of all results,
the
storehouse in which all experiences are garnered as increasingly active
powers.
These
two principles firmly grasped – of the Monad with potentialities becoming
powers,
and of the continuity of the life form – we can proceed to the
continuity
of life and form – we can proceed to study their working out in
detail,
and we shall find that they solve many of the perplexing problems of
modern
science, as well as the yet more heart-searching problems confronted by
the
philanthropist and the sage.
Let
us start by considering the monad as it is first subjected to the impacts
from
the formless levels of the mental plane, the very beginning of the
evolution
of form. Its first faint responsive thrillings draw round it some of
the
matter of that plane, and we have the gradual evolution of the first
elemental
kingdom, already mentioned. (See chapter IV, on "The Mental Plane").
The
great fundamental types of the Monad are seven in number, sometimes imaged
as
like the seven colours of the solar spectrum, derived from the three primary.
("As
above, so below." We instinctively remember the three LOGOI and the seven
primeval
Sons of the Fire ; in Christian Symbolism, the Trinity and the "Seven
Spirits
that are before the throne" ; or in Zoroastrian, Ahuramazda and the
seven
Ameshaspentas.)
Each
of these types has its own colouring of characteristics, and this colouring
persists
throughout the aeonian cycle of its evolution, affecting all the series
of
living things that are animated by it. Now begins the process of subdivision
in
each of these types, that will be carried on, subdividing and ever
subdividing,
until the individual is reached.
The
currents set up by the commencing outward-going energies of the Monad – to
follow
one line of evolution will suffice ; the other six are like unto it in
principle
– have but brief form-life, yet whatever experience can be gained
through
them is represented by an increasedly responsive life in the Monad who
is
their source and cause ; as this responsive life consists of vibrations that
are
often incongruous with each other, a tendency towards separation is set up
within
the Monad, the harmoniously vibrating forces grouping themselves together
for,
as it were, concerted action, until various sub-Monads, if the epithet may
for
a moment be allowed, are formed, alike in their main characteristics, but
differing
in details, like shades of the same colour.
These
become, by impacts from the lower levels of the mental plane, the Monads
of
the second elemental kingdom, belonging to the form region of that plane, and
the
process continues, the Monad ever adding to its power to respond, each Monad
being
the inspiring life of countless forms, through which it receives
vibrations,
and, as the forms disintegrate, constantly vivifying new forms ; the
process
of subdivision also continues from the cause already described.
Each
Monad thus continually incarnates itself in forms, and garners within
itself
as awakened powers all the results obtained through the forms it
animates.
We may well regard these Monads as the souls of groups of forms; and
as
evolution proceeds, these forms show more and more attributes, the attributes
being
the powers of the monadic group-soul manifested through the forms in which
it
is incarnated.
The
innumerable sub-Monads of this second elemental kingdom presently reach a
stage
of evolution at which they begin to respond to the vibrations of astral
matter,
and they begin to act on the astral plane, becoming the Monads of the
third
elemental kingdom, and repeating in this grosser world all the processes
already
accomplished on the mental plane.
They
become more and more numerous as monadic group-souls, showing more and more
diversity
in detail, the number of forms animated by each becoming less as the
specialised
characteristics become more and more marked. Meanwhile, it may be
said
in passing, the ever-flowing stream of life from the LOGOS supplies new
Monads
of form on the higher levels, so that the evolution proceeds
continuously,
and as the more-evolved Monads incarnate in the lower worlds their
place
is taken by the newly emerged Monads in the higher.
By
this ever-repeated process of the reincarnation of the Monads, or Monadic
group-soul,
in the astral world, their evolution proceeds, until they are ready
to
respond to the impacts upon them from physical matter. When we remember that
the
ultimate atoms of each plane have their sphere-walls composed of the
coarsest
matter of the plane immediately above it, it is easy to see how the
Monads
become responsive to impacts from one plane after another.
When,
in the first elemental kingdom, the Monad had become accustomed to thrill
responsively
to the impacts of matter of that plane, it would soon begin to
answer
to vibrations received through the coarsest forms of that matter from the
matter
of the plane next below. So, in its coatings of matter that were the
forms
composed of the coarsest materials of the material plane, it would become
susceptible
to vibrations of astral atomic matter ; and, when incarnated in
forms
of the coarsest astral matter, it would similarly become responsive to
atomic
physical ether, the sphere-walls of which are constituted of the grossest
astral
materials.
Thus
the Monad may be regarded as reaching the physical plane ; and there it
begins,
or, more accurately, all these monadic group-souls begin, to incarnate
themselves
in filmy physical forms, the etheric doubles of the future dense
minerals
of the physical world. Into these filmy forms the nature-spirits build
the
denser physical materials, and thus minerals of all kinds are formed, the
most
rigid vehicles in which the evolving life in-closes itself, and through
which
the least of its powers can express themselves. Each monadic group-soul
has
its own mineral expressions, the mineral forms in which it is incarnated,
and
the specialisation has now reached a high degree. These Monadic group-souls
are
sometimes called in their totality the mineral Monad or the Monad
incarnating
in the mineral kingdom.
From
this time forward the awakened energies of the Monad play a less passive
part
in evolution. They begin to seek expression actively to some extent when
once
aroused into functioning, and to exercise a distinctly moulding influence
over
the forms in which they are imprisoned. As they become too active for their
mineral
embodiment, the beginnings of the more plastic forms of the vegetable
kingdom
manifest themselves, the nature-spirits aiding this evolution throughout
the
physical kingdoms. In the mineral kingdom there had already been shown a
tendency
towards the definite organisation of form, the laying down of certain
lines
( The axes of growth which determine form. They appear definitely in
crystals
) along which the growth proceeded. This tendency governs henceforth
all
the building of forms, and is the cause of the exquisite symmetry of natural
objects,
with which every observer is familiar.
The
monadic group-souls in the vegetable kingdom undergo division and
subdivision
with increasing rapidity, in consequence of the still greater
variety
of impacts to which they are subjected, the evolution of families,
genera,
and species being due to this invisible subdivision.
When
any genus, with its generic monadic group-soul, is subjected to very
varying
conditions, i.e., when the forms connected with it receive very
different
impacts, a fresh tendency to subdivide is set up in the Monad, and
various
species are evolved, each having its own specific group-soul.
When
Nature is left to her own working the process is slow, although the
nature-spirits
do much towards the differentiation of species ; but when man has
been
evolved, and when he begins his artificial systems of cultivation,
encouraging
the play of one set of forces, warding off another, then this
differentiation
can be brought about with considerable rapidity, and specific
differences
are readily evolved. So long as actual division has not taken place
in
the monadic group-soul, the subjection of the forms to similar influences may
again
eradicate the separative tendency, but when that division is completed the
new
species are definitely and firmly established , and are ready to send out
offshoots
of their own.
In
some of the longer-lived members of the vegetable kingdom the element of
personality
begins to manifest itself, the stability of the organism rendering
possible
this foreshadowing of individuality. With a tree, living for scores of
years,
the recurrence of similar conditions causing similar impacts, the seasons
ever
returning year after year, the consecutive motions caused by them, the
rising
of the sap, the putting forth of leaves, the touches of the wind, of the
sunbeams,
of the rain – all these outer influences with their rhythmical
progression
– set up responsive thrillings in the monadic group-soul, and, as
the
sequence impresses itself by continual repetition, the recurrence of one
leads
to the dim expectation of its oft-repeated successor. Nature evolves no
quality
suddenly, and these are the first faint adumbrations of what will later
be
memory and anticipation.
In
the vegetable kingdom also appear the foreshadowings of sensation, evolving
in
its higher members to what the Western psychologist would term
"massive"
sensations
of pleasure and discomfort. (The "massive" sensation is one that
pervades
the organism and is not felt especially in any one part more than in
others.
It is the antithesis of the "acute.") It must be remembered that the
Monad
has drawn round itself materials of the planes through which it has
descended,
and hence is able to contact impacts, from those planes, the
strongest
and those most nearly allied to the grossest forms of matter being the
first
to make themselves felt.
Sunshine
and the chill of its absence at last impress themselves on the monadic
consciousness
; and its astral coating, thrown into faint vibrations, gives rise
to
the slight massive kind of sensation spoken of. Rain and drought affecting
the
mechanical constitution of the form, and its power to convey vibrations to
the
ensouling Monad – are another of the "pairs of opposites," the play
of which
arouses
the recognition of difference, which is the root alike of all sensation,
and
later of all thought. Thus by their repeated plant-reincarnations the
monadic
group-souls in the vegetable kingdom evolve, until those that ensoul the
highest
members of the kingdom are ready for the next step.
This
step carries them into the animal kingdom, and here they slowly evolve in
their
physical and astral vehicles a very distinct personality. The animal,
being
free to move about, subjects itself to a greater variety of conditions
than
can be experienced by the plant, rooted to a single spot, and this variety,
as
ever, promotes differentiation.
The
monadic group-soul, however, which animates a number of wild animals of the
same
species or subspecies, while it receives a great variety of impacts, since
they
are for the most part repeated continually and are shared by all the
members
of the group, differentiates but slowly.
These
impacts aid in the development of the physical and astral bodies, and
through
them the monadic group-soul gathers much experience. When the form of a
member
of the group perishes, the experience gathered through that form is
accumulated
in the monadic group-soul, and may be said to colour it ; the
slightly
increased life of the monadic group-soul, poured into all the forms
which
compose its group, shares among all the experiences of the perished form,
and
in this way continually repeated experiences, stored up in the monadic
group-soul,
appear as instincts, "accumulated hereditary experiences" in the new
forms.
Countless
birds having fallen a prey to hawks, chicks just out of the egg will
cower
at the approach of one of the hereditary enemies, for the life that is
incarnated
in them knows the danger, and the innate instinct is the expression
of
its knowledge. In this way are formed the wonderful instincts that guard
animals
from innumerable habitual perils, while a new danger finds them
unprepared
and only bewilders them.
As
animals come under the influence of man, the monadic group-souls evolves with
greatly
increased rapidity, and, from causes similar to those which affect
plants
under domestication, subdivision of the incarnating life is more readily
brought
about. Personality evolves and becomes more and more strongly marked ;
in
the earlier stages it may almost be said to be compound – a whole flock of
wild
creatures will act as though moved by a single personality, so completely
are
the forms dominated by the common soul, it, in turn, being affected by the
impulse
from the external world.
Domesticated
animals of the higher types, the elephants, the horse, the cat, the
dog,
show a more individualised personality – two dogs, for instance, may act
very
differently under the impact of the same circumstances. The monadic
group-soul
incarnates in a decreasing number of forms as it gradually approaches
the
point at which complete individualisation will be reached. The desire-body,
or
Kâmic vehicle, becomes considerably developed, and persists for some time
after
the death of the physical body, leading an independent existence in
Kâmaloka.
At last the decreasing number of forms animated by a monadic
group-soul
comes down to unity, and it animates a succession of single forms – a
condition
differing from human reincarnation only by the absence of Manas, with
its
causal and mental bodies.
The
mental matter brought down by the monadic group-souls begins to be
susceptible
to impacts from the mental plane, and the animal is then ready to
receive
the third great outpouring of the life of the LOGOS – the tabernacle is
ready
for the reception of the human Monad.
The
human Monad is, as we have seen, triple in its nature, its three aspects
being
denominated, respectively, the Spirit, the spiritual Soul, and the human
Soul,
Âtma-Buddhi-Manas. Doubtless, in the course of eons of evolution, the
upwardly
evolving Monad of form might have unfolded Manas by progressive growth,
but
both in the human race in the past, and in the animals of the present, such
has
not been the course of Nature.
When
the house was ready the tenant was sent down ; from the higher planes of
being
the âtmic life descended, veiling itself in Buddhi, as a golden thread ;
and
its third aspect, Manas, showing itself in the higher levels of the formless
world
of the mental plane, germinal Manas within the form was fructified, and
the
embryonic causal body was formed by the union. This is the individualisation
of
the spirit, the incasing of it in form, and this spirit incased in the causal
body
is the soul, the individual, the real man. This is his birth hour; for
though
his essence be eternal, unborn and undying, his birth in time as an
individual
is definite.
Further,
this outpoured life reaches the evolving forms not directly, but by
intermediaries.
The human race having attained the point of receptivity, certain
great
Ones, called Sons of Mind – (Manasaputra is the technical name, being
merely
the Sanskrit for Sons of Mind.) – cast into men the monadic spark of
Âtma-Buddhi-Manas,
needed for the formation of the embryonic soul.
And
some of these great Ones actually incarnated in human forms, in order to
become
the guides and teachers of infant humanity. These Sons of Mind had
completed
Their own intellectual evolution in other worlds, and came to this
younger
world, our earth, for the purpose of thus aiding in the evolution of the
human
race. They are in truth, the spiritual fathers of the bulk of our
humanity.
Other intelligences of much lower grade, men who had evolved in
preceding
cycles in another world, incarnated among the descendants of the race
that
received its infant souls in the way just described. As this race evolved,
the
human tabernacles improved, and myriads of souls that were awaiting the
opportunity
of incarnation, that they might continue their evolution, took birth
among
its children.
These
partially evolved souls are also spoken of in the ancient records as Sons
of
Mind, for they were possessed of mind, although comparatively it was but
little
developed – childish souls we may call them, in distinguishment from the
embryonic
souls of the bulk of humanity, and the mature souls of the great
Teachers.
These
child-souls, by reason of their more evolved intelligence, formed the
leading
types of the ancient world, the classes higher in mentality, and
therefore
in the power of acquiring knowledge, that dominated the masses of less
developed
men in antiquity. And thus arose, in our world, the enormous
differences
in mental and moral capacity which separate the most highly evolved
from
the least evolved races, and which, even within the limits of single race,
separate
the lofty philosophic thinker from the well-nigh animal type of the
most
depraved of his own nation. These differences are but differences of the
stage
of evolution, of the age of the soul, and they have been found to exist
throughout
the whole of history of humanity on this globe. Go back as far as we
may
in historic records, and we may find lofty intelligence and debased
ignorance
side by side, and the occult records, carrying us backwards, tell a
similar
story of the early millennia of humanity.
Nor
should this distress us, as though some had been unduly favoured and others
unduly
burdened for the struggle of life. The loftiest soul had its childhood
and
its infancy, albeit in previous worlds, where other souls were as high above
it
as others are below it now ; the lowest soul shall climb to where our highest
are
standing, and souls yet unborn shall occupy its present place in evolution.
Things
seem unjust because we wrench our world out of its place in evolution,
and
set it apart in isolation, with no forerunners and no successors. It is our
ignorance
that sees the injustice ; the ways of Nature are equal, and she brings
to
all her children infancy, childhood, and manhood. Nor hers the fault if our
folly
demands that all souls shall occupy the same stage of evolution at the
same
time, and cries "Unjust!" if the demand be not fulfilled.
We
shall best understand the evolution of the soul, if we take it up at the
point
where we left it, when animal-man was ready to receive, and did receive,
the
embryonic soul. To avoid a possible misapprehension, it may be well to say
that
there were not henceforth two Monads in man – the one that had built the
human
tabernacle, and the one that descended into that tabernacle, and whose
lowest
aspect was the human soul.
To
borrow a simile again from H. P. Blavatsky, as two rays of the sun may pass
through
a hole in a shutter, and mingling together form but one ray though they
had
been twain, so is it with these rays from the Supreme Sun, the divine Lord
of
our universe. The second ray, as it entered into the human tabernacle,
blended
with the first, merely adding to it fresh energy and brilliance, and the
human
Monad, as a unit, began its mighty task of unfolding the higher powers in
man
of that divine Life whence it came.
The
embryonic soul, the Thinker, had at the beginning for its embryonic mental
body
the mind-stuff envelope that the Monad of form had brought with it, but had
not
yet organised into any possibility of functioning. It was the mere germ of a
mental
body, attached to a mere germ of a causal body, and for many a life the
strong
desire-nature had its will with the soul, whirling it along the road of
its
own passions and appetites, and dashing up against it all the furious waves
of
its own uncontrolled animality.
Repulsive
as this early life of the soul may at first seem to some when looked
at
from the higher stage that we have now attained, it was a necessary one for
the
germination of the seeds of mind. Recognition of difference, the perception
that
one thing is different from another, is a preliminary essential to thinking
at
all. And, in order to awaken this perception in the as yet unthinking soul,
strong
and violent contrasts had to strike upon it, so as to force differences
upon
it – blow after blow of riotous pleasure, blow after blow of crushing pain.
The
external world hammered on the soul through the desire nature, till
perceptions
began to be slowly made, and, after countless repetitions, to be
registered.
The little gains made in each life were stored up by the Thinker, as
we
have already seen, and thus slow progress was made.
Slow
progress, indeed, for scarcely anything was thought, and hence scarcely
anything
was done in the way of organising the mental body. Not until many
perceptions
had been registered in it as mental images was there any material on
which
mental action, initiated from within, could be based ; this would begin
when
two or more of these mental images were drawn together, and some inference,
however
elementary, was made from them. That inference was the beginning of
reasoning,
the germ of all the systems of logic which the intellect of man has
since
evolved or assimilated. These inferences would at first all be made in the
service
of the desire-nature, for the increasing of pleasure, the lessening of
pain
; but each one would increase the activity of the mental body, and would
stimulate
it into more ready functioning.
It
will readily be seen that at this period of his infancy man had no knowledge
of
good or of evil; right and wrong for him had no existence. The right is that
which
is in accordance with the divine will, which helps forward the progress of
the
soul, which tends to the strengthening of the higher nature of man and to
the
training and subjugation of the lower, the wrong is that which retards
evolution,
which retains the soul in the lower stages after he has learned the
lessons
they have to teach, which tends to the mastery of the lower nature over
the
higher, and assimilates man to the brute he should be outgrowing instead of
to
the God he should be evolving.
Ere
man could know what was right, he had to learn the existence of the law, and
this
he could only learn by following all that attracted him in the outer world,
by
grasping every desirable object, and then by learning from experience, sweet
or
bitter, whether his delight was in harmony or in conflict with the law. Let
us
take an obvious example, the taking of pleasant food, and see how infant man
might
learn therefrom the presence of a natural law. At the first taking, his
hunger
was appeased, his taste was gratified, and only pleasure resulted from
the
experience, for his action was in harmony with law. On another occasion,
desiring
to increase pleasure, he ate overmuch and suffered in consequence, for
he
transgressed against the law. A confusing experience to the dawning
intelligence,
how the pleasurable became painful by excess.
Over
and over again he would be led by desire into excess, and each time he
would
experience the painful consequences, until at last he learned moderation,
i.e.,
he learned to conform his bodily acts in this respect to physical law; for
he
found that there were conditions which affected him and which he could not
control,
and that only by observing them could physical happiness be insured.
Similar
experiences flowed in upon him through all the bodily organs, with
undeviating
regularity ; his outrushing desires brought him pleasure or pain
just
as they worked with the laws of Nature or against them, and, as experience
increased,
it began to guide his steps, to influence his choice, It was not as
though
he had to begin his experience anew with every life, for on each new
birth
he brought with him mental faculties a little increased, and
ever-accumulating
store.
I
have said that the growth in these early days was very slow, for there was but
the
dawning of mental action, and when the man left his physical body at death
he
passed most of his time in Kâmaloka, sleeping through a brief devachanic
period
of unconscious assimilation of any minute mental experience not yet
sufficiently
developed for the active heavenly life that lay before him after
many
days.
Still,
the enduring causal body was there, to be the receptacle of his
qualities,
and to carry them on for further development into his next life on
earth.
The part played by the monadic group-soul in the earlier stages of
evolution
is played in man by the causal body, and it is this continuing entity
who,
in all cases, makes evolution possible. Without him, the accumulation of
mental
and moral experiences, shown as faculties, would be as impossible as
would
be the accumulation of physical experiences, shown as racial and family
characteristics
without the continuity of physical plasm.
Souls
without a past behind them, springing suddenly into existence, out of
nothing,
with marked mental and moral peculiarities, are a conception as
monstrous
as would be the corresponding conception of babies suddenly appearing
from
nowhere, unrelated to anybody, but showing marked racial and family types.
Neither
man nor his physical vehicle is uncaused, or caused by the direct power
of
the LOGOS ; here, as in so many other cases, the invisible things are clearly
seen
by their analogy with the visible, the visible being, in very truth,
nothing
more than the images, the reflections, of things unseen. Without a
continuity
in the physical plasm, there would be no means for the evolution of
physical
peculiarities ; without the continuity of the intelligence, there would
be
no means for the evolution of mental and moral qualities. In both cases,
without
continuity, evolution would be stopped at its first stage, and the world
would
be a chaos of infinite and isolated beginnings instead of a cosmos
continually
becoming.
We
must not omit to notice that in these early days much variety is caused in
the
type and in the nature of individual progress by the environment which
surrounds
the individual. Ultimately all the souls have to develop all their
powers,
but the order in which these powers are developed depends on the
circumstances
amid which the soul is placed. Climate, the fertility or sterility
of
nature, the life of the mountain or of the plain, of the inland forest or the
ocean
shore – these things and countless others will call into activity one set
or
another of the awakening mental energies.
A
life of extreme hardship, of ceaseless struggle with nature, will develop very
different
powers from those evolved amid the luxuriant plenty of a tropical
island
; both sets of powers are needed, for the soul is to conquer every region
of
nature, but striking differences may thus be evolved even in souls of the
same
age, and one may appear to be more advanced than the other, according as
the
observer estimates most highly the more "practical" or the more
"contemplative"
powers of the soul, the active outward-going energies, or the
quiet
inward-turned musing faculties. The perfected soul possesses all, but the
soul
in the making must develop them successively, and thus arises another cause
of
the immense variety found among human beings.
For
again, it must be remembered that human evolution is individual. In a group
informed
by a single monadic group-soul the same instincts will be found in all,
for
the receptacle of the experiences is that monadic group-soul, and it pours
its
life into all forms dependent upon it.
But
each man has his own physical vehicle and one only at a time, and the
receptacle
of all experiences is the causal body, which pours its life into its
one
physical vehicle, and can affect no other physical vehicle, being connected
with
none other. Hence we find differences separating individual men greater,
than
the ever separated, closely allied animals, and hence also the evolution of
qualities
cannot be studied in men in the mass, but only in the continuing
individual.
The lack of power to make such a study leaves science unable to
explain
why some men tower above their fellows, intellectual and moral giants,
unable
to trace the intellectual evolution of a Shankarâchârya or a Pythagoras,
the
moral evolution of a Buddha or of a Christ.
Let
us now consider the factors in reincarnation, as a clear understanding of
these
is necessary for the explanation of some of the difficulties – such as the
alleged
loss of memory – which are felt by those unfamiliar with the idea. We
have
seen that man, during his passage through physical death, Kâmaloka and
Devachan,
loses one after the other, his various bodies, the physical, the
astral,
and the mental. These are all disintegrated, and their particles remix
with
the materials of their several planes. The connection of the man with the
physical
vehicle is entirely broken off and done with ; but the astral and
mental
bodies hand on to the man himself, to the Thinker, the germs of the
faculties
and qualities resulting from the activities of the earth-life, and
these
are stored within the causal body, the seeds of his next astral and mental
bodies.
At
this stage, then, only the man himself is left, the labourer who has brought
his
harvest home, and has lived upon it till it is all worked up into himself.
The
dawn of a new life begins, and he must go forth again to his labour until
the
even.
The
new life begins by the vivifying of the mental germs, and they draw upon the
materials
of the lower mental levels, till a mental body has grown up from them
that
represents exactly the mental stage of the man, expressing all his mental
faculties
as organs ; the experiences of the past do not exist as mental images
in
this new body; as mental images they perished when the old mind-body
perished,
and only their essence, their effects on faculty, remain ; they were
the
food of the mind, the materials which it wove into powers, and in the new
body
they reappear as powers, they determine its materials, and they form its
organs.
When the man, the Thinker, has thus clothed himself with a new body for
his
coming life on the lower mental levels, he proceeds, by vivifying the astral
germs,
to provide himself with an astral body for his life on the astral plane.
This,
again, exactly represents his desire-nature, faithfully reproducing the
qualities
he evolved in the past, as the seed reproduces its parent tree. Thus
the
man stands, fully equipped for his next incarnation, the only memory of
these
events of his past being in the causal body, in his own enduring form, the
one
body that passes on from life to life.
Meanwhile,
action external to himself is being taken to provide him with a
physical
body suitable for the expression of his qualities. In past lives he has
made
ties with, contracted liabilities towards, other human beings, and some of
these
will partly determine his place of birth and his family. – ( This and the
following
causes determining the outward circumstances of the new life will be
fully
explained in Chapter IX, on "Karma".) He has been a source of
happiness or
of
unhappiness to others ; this is a factor in determining the conditions of his
coming
life. His desire-nature is well disciplined, or unregulated and riotous ;
this
will be taken into account in the physical heredity of the new body. He has
cultivated
certain mental powers, such as the artistic ; this must be
considered,
as here again physical heredity is an important factor where
delicacy
of nervous organisation and tactile sensibility are required.
And
so on, in endless variety. The man may, certainly will, have in him many
incongruous
characteristics, so that only some can find expression in any one
body
that could be provided, and a group of his powers suitable for simultaneous
expression
must be selected. All this is done by certain mighty spiritual
Intelligences,(
Spoken of by H.P.Blavatsky in the Secret Doctrine. They are the
Lipika,
the Keepers of the kârmic records, and the Mahârâjas, who direct the
practical
working out of the decrees of the Lipika.) - often spoken of as the
Lords
of Karma, because it is their function to superintend the working out of
causes
continually set going by thoughts, desires, and actions. They hold the
threads
of destiny which each man has woven, and guide the reincarnating man to
the
environment determined by his past, unconsciously self-chosen through his
past
life.
The
race, the nation, the family, being thus determined, what may be called the
mould
of the physical body – suitable for the expression of the man’s qualities,
and
for the working out of the causes he has set going – is given by these great
Ones,
and the new etheric double, a copy of this, is built within the mother’s
womb
by the agency of an elemental, the thought of the Karmic Lords being its
motive
power.
The
dense body is built into the etheric double molecule by molecule, following
it
exactly, and here physical heredity has full sway in the materials provided.
Further,
the thoughts and passions of surrounding people, especially of the
continually
present father and mother, influence the building elemental in its
work,
the individuals with whom the incarnating man had formed ties in the past
thus
affecting the physical conditions growing up for his new life on earth.
At
a very early stage the new astral body comes into connection with the new
etheric
double, and exercises considerable influence over its formation, and
through
it the mental body works upon the nervous organisation, preparing it to
become
a suitable instrument for its own expression in the future. This
influence
commenced in ante natal life – so that when a child is born its
brain-formation
reveals the extent and balance of its mental and moral qualities
–
is continued after birth, and this building of brain and nerves, and their
correlation
to the astral and mental bodies, go on till the seventh year of
childhood,
at which age the connection between the man and his physical vehicle
is
complete, and he may be said to work through it henceforth more than upon it.
Up
to this age, the consciousness of the Thinker is more upon the astral plane
than
upon the physical, and this is often evidenced by the play of psychic
faculties
in young children. They see invisible comrades and fairy landscapes,
hear
voices inaudible to their elders, catch charming and delicate fancies from
the
astral world. These phenomena generally vanish as the Thinker begins to work
effectively
through the physical vehicle, and the dreamy child becomes the
commonplace
boy or girl, oftentimes much to the relief of the bewildered
parents,
ignorant of the cause of their child’s "queerness."
Most
children have at least a touch of this "queerness," but they quickly
learn
to
hide away their fancies and visions from their unsympathetic elders, fearful
of
blame for "telling stories," or of what the child dreads far more –
ridicule.
If
parents could see their children’s brains, vibrating under an inextricable
mingling
of physical and astral impacts, which the children themselves are quite
incapable
of separating, and receiving sometimes a thrill – so plastic are they
–
even from the higher regions, giving a vision of ethereal beauty, of heroic
achievement,
they would be more patient with, more responsive to, the confused
prattlings
of the little ones, trying to translate into the difficult medium of
unaccustomed
words the elusive touches of which they are conscious, and which
they
try to catch and retain. Reincarnation, believed in and understood, would
relieve
child life of its most pathetic aspect, the unaided struggle of the soul
to
gain control over its new vehicles, and to connect itself fully with its
densest
body without losing power to impress the rarer ones in a way that would
enable
them to convey to the denser their own more subtle vibrations.
The
ascending stages of consciousness through which the Thinker passes as he
reincarnates
during his long cycle of lives in the three lower worlds are
clearly
marked out, and the obvious necessity for many lives, in which to
experience
them, if he is to evolve at all, may carry to the more thoughtful
minds
the clearest conviction of the truth of reincarnation.
The
first of the stages is that in which all the experiences are sensational,
the
only contribution made by the mind consisting of the recognition that
contact
with some object is followed by a sensation of pleasure, while contact
with
others is followed by a sensation of pain. These objects form mental
pictures,
and the pictures soon begin to act as a stimulus to seek the objects
associated
with pleasure, when those objects are not present, the germs of
memory
and of mental initiative thus making their appearance. This first rough
division
of the external world is followed by the more complex idea of the
bearing
of quantity on pleasure and pain, already referred to.
At
this stage of evolution, memory is very short lived, or, in other words,
mental
images are very transitory. The idea of forecasting the future from the
past,
even to the most rudimentary extent, has not dawned on the infant Thinker,
and
his actions are guided from outside, by the impacts that reach him from the
external
world, or at furthest by the promptings of his appetites and passions,
craving
gratification. He will throw away anything for an immediate
satisfaction,
however necessary the thing may be for his future well being; the
need
of the moment overpowers every other consideration. Of human souls in this
embryonic
condition, numerous examples can be found in books of travel, and the
necessity
for many lives will be impressed on the mind of any one who studies
the
mental condition of the least evolved savages, and compares it with the
mental
condition of even average humanity among ourselves.
Needless
to say that the moral capacity is no more evolved than the mental; the
idea
of good and evil has not yet been conceived. Not is it possible to convey
to
the quite undeveloped mind even elementary notion of either good or bad. Good
and
pleasant are to it interchangeable terms, as in the well-known case of the
Australian
savage mentioned by Charles Darwin. Pressed by hunger, the man
speared
the nearest living creature that could serve as food, and this happened
to
be his wife; a European remonstrated with him on the wickedness of his deed,
but
failed to make any impression; for from the reproach that to eat his wife
was
very, very bad he only deduced the inference that the stranger thought she
had
proved nasty of indigestible, and he put him right by smiling peacefully as
he
patted himself after his meal, and declaring in a satisfied way, "She is
very
good."
Measure
in thought the moral distance between that man and St. Francis of
Assisi,
and it will be seen that there must either be evolution of souls as
there
is evolution of bodies, or else in the realm of the soul there must be
constant
miracle, dislocated creations.
There
are two paths along either of which man may gradually emerge from this
embryonic
mental condition. He may be directly ruled and controlled by men far
more
evolved than himself, or he may be left slowly to grow unaided. The latter
case
would imply the passage of uncounted millennia, for, without example and
without
discipline, left to the changing impacts of external objects, and to
friction
with other men as undeveloped as himself, the inner energies could be
but
very slowly aroused.
As
a matter of fact, man has evolved by the road of direct precept and example
and
of enforced discipline. We have already seen that when the bulk of the
average
humanity received the spark which brought the Thinker into being, there
were
some of the greater Sons if Mind who incarnated as Teachers, and that there
was
also a long succession of lesser Sons of Mind, at various stages of
evolution,
who came into incarnation as the crest-wave of the advancing tide of
humanity.
These
ruled the less evolved, under the beneficent sway of the great Teachers,
and
the compelled obedience to elementary rules of right living – very
elementary
at first, in truth – much hastened the development of mental and
moral
faculties in the embryonic souls. Apart from all other records the
gigantic
remains of civilizations that have long since disappeared – evidencing
great
engineering skill, and intellectual conceptions far beyond anything
possible
by the mass of the then infant humanity – suffice to prove that there
were
present on earth men with minds that were capable of greatly planning and
greatly
executing.
Let
us continue the early stage of the evolution of consciousness. Sensation was
wholly
lord of the mind, and the earliest mental efforts were stimulated by
desire.
This led the man, slowly and clumsily, to forecast, to plan. He began to
recognise
a definite association of certain mental images, and, when one
appeared,
to expect the appearance of the other that had invariably followed in
its
wake. He began to draw inferences, and even to initiate action on the faith
of
these inferences – a great advance. And he began also to hesitate now and
again
to follow the vehement promptings of desire, when he found, over and over
again,
that the gratification demanded was associated in his mind with the
subsequent
happening of suffering.
This
action was much quickened by the pressure upon him of verbally expressed
laws;
he was forbidden to seize certain gratifications, and was told that
suffering
would follow disobedience. When he had seized the delight-giving
object
and found the suffering follow upon pleasure, the fulfilled declaration
made
a far stronger impression on his mind than would have been made by the
unexpected
– and therefore to him fortuitous – happening of the same thing un
foretold.
Thus conflict continually arose between memory and desire, and the
mind
grew more active by the conflict, and was stirred into livelier
functioning.
The conflict, in fact, marked the transition to the second great
stage.
Here
began to show itself the germ of will. Desire and will guide a man’s
actions,
and will has even been defined as the desire which emerges triumphant
from
the contest of desires. But this is a crude and superficial view,
explaining
nothing. Desire is the outgoing energy of the Thinker, determined in
its
direction by the attraction of external objects. Will is the outgoing energy
of
the Thinker, determined in its direction by the conclusions drawn by the
reason,
from past experiences, or by the direct intuition of the Thinker
himself.
Otherwise put: desire is guided from without – will from within. At the
beginning
of man’s evolution, desire has complete sovereignty, and hurries him
hither
and thither; in the middle of his evolution, desire and will are in
continual
conflict, and victory lies sometimes with the one, sometimes with the
other;
at the end of his evolution desire has died, and will rules with
unopposed,
unchallenged sway.
Until
the Thinker, is sufficiently developed to see directly, will is guided by
him
through the reason; and as the reason can draw its conclusions only from its
stock
of mental images – its experiences – and that stock is limited, the will
constantly
commands mistaken actions. The suffering which flows from these
mistaken
actions increases the stock of mental images, and thus gives the reason
an
increased store from which to draw its conclusions. Thus progress is made and
wisdom
is born.
Desire
often mixes itself up with will, so that what appears to be determined
from
within is really largely prompted by the cravings of the lower nature for
objects
which afford it gratification. Instead of an open conflict between the
two,
the lower subtly insinuates itself into the current of the higher and turns
its
course aside. Defeated in the open field, the desire of the personality thus
conspire
against their conqueror, and often win by guile what they failed to win
by
force. During the whole of this second great stage, in which the faculties of
the
lower mind are in full course of evolution, conflict is the normal
condition,
conflict between the rule of sensations and the rule of reason.
The
problem to be solved in humanity is the putting an end to conflict while
preserving
the freedom of the will; to determine the will inevitably to the
best,
while yet leaving that best as a matter of choice. The best is to be
chosen,
but by a self-initiated volition, that shall come with all the certainty
of
a foreordained necessity. The certainty of a compelling law is to be obtained
from
countless wills, each one left free to determine its own course. The
solution
of that problem is simple when it is known, though the contradiction
looks
irreconcilable when first presented. Let man be left free to choose his
own
actions, but let every action bring about an inevitable result; let him run
loose
amid all objects of desire and seize whatever he will, but let him have
all
the results of his choice, be they delightful or grievous. Presently he will
freely
reject the objects whose possession ultimately causes him pain; he will
no
longer desire them when he has experienced to the full that their possession
ends
in sorrow.
Let
him struggle to hold the pleasure and avoid the pain, he will none the less
be
ground between the stones of law, and the lesson will be repeated any number
of
times found necessary; reincarnation offers us many lives as are needed by
the
most sluggish learner. Slowly desire for an object that brings suffering in
its
train will die, and when the thing offers itself in all its attractive
glamour
it will be rejected, not by compulsion but by free choice.
It
is no longer desirable, it has lost its power. Thus with thing after thing;
choice
more and more runs in harmony with law. "There are many roads of error;
the
road of truth is one"; when all the paths of error have been trodden, when
all
have been found to end in suffering, the choice to walk in the way of truth
is
unswerving, because based on knowledge. The lower kingdoms work harmoniously,
compelled
by law; man’s kingdom is a chaos of conflicting wills, fighting
against,
rebelling against law; presently there evolves from it a nobler unity,
a
harmonious choice of voluntary obedience, an obedience that, being voluntary,
based
on knowledge and on memory of the results of disobedience, is stable and
can
be drawn aside by no temptation. Ignorant, inexperienced, man would always
have
been in danger of falling; as a God, knowing good and evil by experience,
his
choice of the good is raised forever beyond possibility of change.
Will
in the domain of morality is generally entitled conscience, and it is
subject
to the same difficulties in this domain as in its other activities. So
long
as actions are in question which have been done over and over again, of
which
the consequences are familiar either to the reason or to the Thinker
himself,
the conscience speaks quickly and firmly. But when unfamiliar problems
arise
as to the working out of which experience is silent, conscience cannot
speak
with certainty; it has but a hesitating answer from the reason, which can
draw
only a doubtful inference, and the Thinker cannot speak if his experience
does
not include the circumstances that have now arisen.
Hence
conscience often decides wrongly; that is, the will, failing clear
direction
from either the reason or the intuition, guides action amiss. Nor can
we
leave out of consideration the influences which play upon the mind from
without,
from the thought-forms of others, of friends, of the family, of the
community,
of the nation. (Chapter 11, "The Astral Plane.") These all surround
and
penetrate the mind with their own atmosphere, distorting the appearance of
everything,
and throwing all things our of proportion. Thus influenced, the
reason
often does not even judge calmly from its own experience, but draws false
conclusions
as it studies its materials through a distorting medium.
The
evolution of moral faculties is very largely stimulated by the affections,
animal
and selfish as these are during the infancy of the Thinker. The laws of
morality
are laid down by the enlightened reason, discerning the laws by which
Nature
moves, and bringing human conduct into consonance with the Divine Will.
But
the impulse to obey these laws, when no outer force compels, has its roots
in
love, in that hidden divinity in man which seeks to pour itself out to give
itself
to others. Morality begins in the infant Thinker when he is first moved
by
love to wife, to child, to friend, to do some action that serves the loved
one
without any thought of gain to himself thereby. It is the first conquest
over
the lower nature, the complete subjugation of which is the achievement of
moral
perfection.
Hence
the importance of never killing out or striving to weaken, the affection,
as
is done in many of the lower kinds of occultism. However impure and gross the
affections
may be, they offer possibilities of moral evolution from which the
cold-hearted
and self-isolated have shut themselves out. It is an easier task to
purify
than to create love, and this is why "the sinners" have been said by
great
Teachers to be nearer to the kingdom of heaven than the Pharisees and
Scribes.
The
third great stage of consciousness sees the development of the higher
intellectual
powers; the mind no longer dwells entirely on mental images
obtained
from sensations, no longer reasons on purely concrete objects, nor is
concerned
with the attributes which differentiate one from another. The Thinker
having
learned clearly to discriminate between objects by dwelling upon their
unlikenesses,
now begins to group them together by some attribute which appears
in
a number of objects otherwise dissimilar and makes a link between them.
He
draws out, abstracts, his common attribute, and sets all objects that posses
it,
apart from the rest which are without it; and in this way he evolves the
power
of recognising identity amid diversity, a step toward the much later
recognition
of the One underlying the man, he thus classifies all that is around
him,
developing the synthetic faculty, and learning to construct as well as
analyse.
Presently he takes another step, and conceives of the common property
as
an idea, apart from all the objects in which it appears, and thus constructs
a
higher kind of mental image of a concrete object – the image of an idea that
has
no phenomenal existence in the worlds of form, but which exists on the
higher
levels of the mental plane, and affords material on which the Thinker
himself
can work.
The
lower mind reaches the abstract idea by reason, and in thus doing
accomplishes
its loftiest flight, touching the threshold of the formless world,
and
dimly seeing that which lies beyond. The Thinker sees these ideas, and lives
among
them habitually, and when the power of abstract reasoning is developed and
exercised
the Thinker is becoming effective in his own world, and is beginning
his
life of active functioning in his own sphere.
Such
men care little for the life of the senses, care little for external
observation,
or for mental application to images of external objects; their
powers
are indrawn, and no longer rush outwards in the search for satisfaction.
They
dwell calmly within themselves, engrossed with the problems of philosophy,
with
the deepest aspects of life and thought, seeking to understand causes
rather
than troubling themselves with effects, and approaching nearer and nearer
to
the recognition of the One that underlies all the diversities of external
Nature.
In
the fourth stage of consciousness that One is seen, and with the transcending
the
barrier set up by the intellect the consciousness spreads out to embrace the
world,
seeing all things in itself and as parts of itself, and seeing itself as
a
ray of the LOGOS, and therefore as one with Him. Where is then the Thinker? He
has
become Consciousness, and, while the spiritual Soul can at will use any of
his
lower vehicles, he is no longer limited to their use, nor needs them for
this
full and conscious life. Then is compulsory reincarnation over and the man
has
destroyed death; he has verily achieved immortality. Then has he become "a
pillar
in the temple of God and shall go out no more."
To
complete this part of our study, we need to understand the successive
quickenings
of the vehicles of consciousness, the bringing them one by one into
activity
as the harmonious instruments of the human Soul.
We
have seen that from the very beginning of his separate life the Thinker has
possessed
coatings of mental, astral, etheric, and dense physical matter. These
form
the media by which his life vibrates outwards, the bridge of consciousness,
as
we may call it, along which all impulses from the Thinker may reach the dense
physical
body, all impacts from the outer world may reach him.
But
this general use of the successive bodies as parts of a connected whole is a
very
different thing from the quickening of each in turn to serve as a distinct
vehicle
of consciousness, independently of those below it, and it is this
quickening
of the vehicles that we have now to consider. The lowest vehicle, the
dense
physical body, is the first one to be brought into harmonious working
order;
the brain and the nervous system have to be elaborated and to be rendered
delicately
responsive to every thrill which is within their gamut of vibratory
power.
In the early stages, while the physical dense body is composed of the
grosser
kinds of matter, this gamut is extremely limited, and the physical organ
of
the mind can respond only to the slowest vibrations sent down.
It
answers far more promptly, as is natural, to the impacts from the external
world
caused by objects similar in materials to itself. Its quickening as a
vehicle
of consciousness consists in its being made responsive to the vibrations
that
are initiated from within, and the rapidity of this quickening depends on
the
co-operation of the lower nature with the higher, its loyal subordination of
itself
in the service of its inner ruler.
When
after many, many life-periods, it dawns upon the lower nature that it
exists
for the sake of the soul, that all its value depends on the help it can
bring
to the soul, that it can win immortality only by merging itself in the
soul,
then its evolution proceeds in giant strides. Before this, the evolution
has
been unconscious; at first, the gratification of the lower nature was the
object
of life, and, while this was a necessary preliminary for calling out the
energies
of the Thinker, it did nothing directly to render the body a vehicle of
consciousness;
the direct working upon it begins when the life of the man
establishes
its centre in the mental body, and when thought commences to
dominate
sensation.
The
exercise of the mental powers works on the brain and the nervous system, and
the
coarser materials are gradually expelled to make room for the finer, which
can
vibrate in unison with the thought-vibrations sent to them. The brain
becomes
finer in constitution, and increases by ever more complicated
convolutions
the amount of surface available for the coating of nervous matter
adapted
to respond to thought-vibrations. The nervous system becomes more
delicately
balanced, more sensitive, more alive to every thrill of mental
activity.
And when the recognition of its function as an instrument of the Soul,
spoken
of above, has come, then active co-operation in performing this function
sets
in. The personality begins deliberately to discipline itself, and to set
the
permanent interests of the immortal individual above its own transient
gratifications.
It
yields up the time that might be spent in the pursuit of lower pleasures to
the
evolution of mental powers; day by day time is set apart for serious study;
the
brain is gladly surrendered to receive impacts from within instead of from
without,
is trained to answer to consecutive thinking, and is taught to refrain
from
throwing up its own useless disjointed images, made by past impressions. It
is
taught to remain at rest when it is not wanted by its master; to answer, not
to
initiate vibrations. (One of the signs that it is being accomplished is the
cessation
of the confused jumble of fragmentary images which are set up during
sleep
by the independent activity of the physical brain. When the brain is
coming
under control this kind of dream is very seldom experienced.)
Further,
some discretion and discrimination will be used as to the food-stuffs
which
supply physical materials to the brain. The use of the coarser kinds will
be
discontinued, such as animal flesh and blood and alcohol, and pure food will
build
up a pure body. Gradually the lower vibrations will find no materials
capable
of responding to them, and the physical body thus becomes more and more
entirely
a vehicle of consciousness, delicately responsive to all the thrills of
thought
and keenly sensitive to the vibrations sent outwards by the Thinker.
The
etheric double so closely follows the constitution of the dense body that it
is
not necessary to study separately its purification and quickening; it does
not
normally serve as a separate vehicle of consciousness, but works
synchronously
with its dense partner, and when separated from it either by
accident
or by death, it responds very feebly to the vibrations initiated from
within.
It function in truth is not to serve as a vehicle of
mental-consciousness,
but as a vehicle of Prâna, of specialised life-force, and
its
dislocation from the denser particles to which it conveys the life-currents
is
therefore disturbing and mischievous.
The
astral body is the second vehicle of consciousness to be vivified, and we
have
already seen the changes through which it passes as it becomes organised
for
the work. (see Chapter II, "The Astral Plane".). When it is
thoroughly
organised,
the consciousness which has hitherto worked within it, imprisoned by
it,
when in sleep it has left the physical body and is drifting about in the
astral
world, begins not only to receive the impressions through it of astral
objects
that form the so-called dream-consciousness, but also to perceive astral
objects
by its senses – that is, begins to relate the impressions received to
the
objects which give rise to those impressions.
These
perceptions are at first confused, just as are the perceptions at first
made
by the mind through a new physical baby-body, and they have to be corrected
by
experience in the one case as in the other. The Thinker has gradually to
discover
the new powers which he can use through this subtler vehicle, and by
which
he can control the astral elements and defend himself against astral
dangers.
He is not left alone to face this new world unaided, but is taught and
helped
and – until he can guard himself – protected by those who are more
experienced
than himself in the ways of the astral world. Gradually the new
vehicle
of consciousness comes completely under his control, and life on the
astral
plane is as natural and as familiar as life on the physical.
The
third vehicle of consciousness, the mental body, is rarely, if ever,
vivified
for independent action without the direct instruction of a teacher, and
its
functioning belongs to the life of the disciple at the present stage of
human
evolution. (See Chapter XI, "Man’s Ascent"). As we have already seen,
it
is
rearranged for separate functioning (See Chapter IV, "The Mental
Plane"), on
the
mental plane, and here again experience and training are needed ere it comes
fully
under its owner’s control. A fact – common to all these three vehicles of
consciousness,
but more apt to mislead perhaps in the subtler than in the
denser,
because it is generally forgotten in their case, while it is so obvious
that
it is remembered in the denser – is that they are subject to evolution, and
that
with their higher evolution their powers to receive and to respond to
vibrations
increase.
How
many more shades of a colour are seen by a trained eye than by an untrained.
How
many overtones are heard by a trained ear, where the untrained hears only
the
single fundamental note. As the physical senses grow more keen the world
becomes
fuller and fuller, and where the peasant is conscious only his furrow
and
his plough, the cultured mind is conscious of hedgerow flower and quivering
aspen,
of rapturous melody down-dropping from the skylark and the whirring of
tiny
wings through the adjoining wood, of the scudding of rabbits under the
curled
fronds of the bracken, and the squirrels playing with each other through
the
branches of the beeches, of all the gracious movements of wild things, of
all
the fragrant odours of filed and woodland, of all the changing glories of
the
cloud-flecked sky, and of all the chasing lights and shadows on the hills.
Both
the peasant and the cultured have eyes, both have brains, but of what
differing
powers of observation, of what differing powers to receive
impressions.
Thus
also in other worlds. As the as the astral and mental bodies begin to
function
as separate vehicles of consciousness, they are in, as it were, the
peasant
stage of receptivity, and only fragments of the astral and mental
worlds,
with their strange and elusive phenomena, make their way into
consciousness;
but they evolve rapidly, embracing more and more, and conveying
to
consciousness a more and more accurate reflection of its environment. Here,
as
everywhere else, we have to remember that our knowledge is not the limit of
Nature’s
powers, and that in the astral and mental worlds, as in the physical,
we
are still children, picking up a few shells cast up by the waves, while the
treasures
hid in the ocean are still unexplored.
The
quickening of the causal body as a vehicle of consciousness follows in due
course
the quickening of the mental body, and opens up to a man a yet more
marvelous
state of consciousness, stretching backwards into an illimitable past,
onwards
into the reaches of the future. Then the Thinker not only possesses the
memory
of his own past and can trace his growth through the long succession of
his
incarnate and excarnate lives, but he can also roam at will through the
storied
past of the earth, and learn the weighty lessons of world-experience,
studying
the hidden laws that guide evolution and the deep secrets of life
hidden
in the bosom of Nature.
In
that lofty vehicle of consciousness he can each the veiled Isis, and lift a
corner
of her down-dropped veil; for there he can face her eyes without being
blinded
by her lightening glances, and he can see in the radiance that flows
from
her the causes of the world’s sorrow and its ending, with heart pitiful and
compassionate,
but no longer wrung with helpless pain. Strength and calm and
wisdom
come to those who are using the causal body as a vehicle of
consciousness,
and who behold with opened eyes the glory of the Good law.
When
the buddhic body is quickened as a vehicle of consciousness the man enters
into
the bliss of non-separateness, and knows in full and vivid realisation his
unity
with all that is. As the predominant element of consciousness in the
causal
body is knowledge, and ultimately wisdom, so the predominant element of
consciousness
in the buddhic body is bliss and love. The serenity of wisdom
chiefly
marks the one, while the tenderest compassion streams forth
inexhaustibly
from the other; when to these is added the godlike and unruffled
strength
that marks the functioning of Âtma, then humanity is crowned with
divinity,
and the God-man is manifest in all the plenitude of his power, of his
wisdom,
of his love.
The
handing down to the lower vehicles of such part of the consciousness
belonging
to the higher as they are able to receive does not immediately follow
on
the successive quickening of the vehicles. In this matter individuals differ
very
widely, according to their circumstances and their work, for this
quickening
of the vehicles above the physical rarely occurs till probationary
discipleship
is reached, ( See Chapter XI, "Man’s Ascent"), and then the duties
to
be discharged depend on the needs of the time.
The
disciple, and even the aspirant for discipleship, is taught to hold all his
powers
entirely for the service of the world, and the sharing of the lower
consciousness
in the knowledge of the higher is for the most part determined by
the
needs of the work in which the disciple is engaged. It is necessary that the
disciple
should have the full use of his vehicles of consciousness on the higher
planes,
as much of his work can be accomplished only in them; but the conveying
of
knowledge of that work to the physical vehicle, which is in no way concerned
in
it, is a matter of no importance and the conveyance or non-conveyance is
generally
determined by the effect that the one course or the other would have
on
the efficiency of his work on the physical plane.
The
strain on the physical body when the higher consciousness compels it to
vibrate
responsively is very great, at the present stage of evolution, and
unless
the external circumstances are very favourable this strain is apt to
cause
nervous disturbance, hyper-sensitiveness with its attendant evils. Hence
most
of those who are in full possession of the quickened higher vehicles of
consciousness,
and whose most important work is done out of the body, remain
apart
from the busy haunts of men, if they desire to throw down into the
physical
consciousness the knowledge they use on the higher planes, thus
preserving
the sensitive physical vehicle from the rough usage and clamour of
ordinary
life.
The
main preparation to be made for receiving in the physical vehicle the
vibrations
of the higher consciousness are: its purification from grosser
materials
by pure food and pure life; the entire subjugation of the passions,
and
the cultivation of an even, balanced temper and mind, unaffected by the
turmoil
and vicissitudes of external life ; the habit of quiet meditation on
lofty
topics, turning the mind away from the objects of the senses, and from the
mental
images arising from them, and fixing it on higher things ; the cessation
of
hurry, especially of that restless, excitable hurry of the mind, which keeps
the
brain continually at work and flying from one subject to another ; the
genuine
love for the things of the higher world, that makes them more attractive
than
the objects of the lower, so that the mind rests contentedly in their
companionship
as in that of a well-loved friend.
In
fact, the preparations are much the same as those necessary for the conscious
separation
of "soul" from "body" and those were elsewhere stated by me
as
follows:
The
student –
"Must
begin by practising extreme temperance in all things, cultivating an
equable
and serene state of mind, his life must be clean and his thoughts pure,
his
body held in strict subjection to the soul, and his mind trained to occupy
itself
with noble and lofty themes; he must habitually practise compassion,
sympathy,
helpfulness to others, with indifference to troubles and pleasures
affecting
himself, and he must cultivate courage, steadfastness, and devotion.
In
fact, he must live the religion and ethics that other people for the most
part
only talk. Having by persevering practice learned to control his mind to
some
extent so that he is able to keep it fixed on one line of thought for some
little
time, he must begin its more rigid training, by a daily practice of
concentration
on some difficult or abstract subject, or on some lofty object of
devotion;
this concentration means the firm fixing of the mind on one single
point,
without wandering, and without yielding to any distraction caused by
external
objects, by the activity of the senses, or by that of the mind itself.
It
must be braced up to an unswerving steadiness and fixity, until gradually it
will
learn so to withdraw its attention form the outer world and from the body
that
the senses will remain quiet and still, while the mind is intensely alive
with
all its energies drawn inwards to be launched at a single point of thought,
the
highest to which it can attain.
When
it is able to hold itself thus with comparative ease it is ready for a
further
step, and by a strong but calm effort of the will it can throw itself
beyond
the highest thought it can reach while working in the physical brain, and
in
the effort will rise and unite itself with the higher consciousness and find
itself
free of the body. When this is done there is no sense of sleep or dream
nor
any loss of consciousness; the man finds himself outside his body, but as
though
he merely slipped off a weighty encumbrance, nor as though he had lost
any
part of himself; he is not really "disembodied", but had risen out of
the
gross
body ‘in a body of light’ which obeys his slightest thought and serves as
a
beautiful and perfect instrument for carrying out his will. In this he is free
of
the subtle worlds, but will need to train his faculties long and carefully
for
reliable work under the new conditions.
"Freedom
from the body may be obtained in other ways; by the rapt intensity of
devotion
or by special methods that may be imparted by a great teacher to his
disciple.
Whatever
the way, the end is the same – the setting free of the soul in full
consciousness,
able to examine its new surroundings in regions beyond the
treading
of the flesh of the man of flesh. At will it can return to the body and
re-enter
it, and under these circumstances it can impress on the brain-mind, and
thus
retain while in the body, the memory of the experiences it has undergone."
[
Conditions of life after death" Nineteenth Century of Nov. 1896 ]
Those
who have grasped the main ideas sketched in the foregoing pages will feel
that
these ideas are in themselves the strongest proof that reincarnation is a
fact
in nature. It is necessary in order that the vast evolution implied in the
phrase,
" the evolution of the soul," may be accomplished. The only
alternative
–
putting aside for the moment the materialistic idea that the soul is only the
aggregate
of the vibrations of a particular kind of physical matter – is that
each
soul is a new creation, made when a babe is born, and stamped with virtuous
or
with vicious tendencies, endowed with ability or with stupidity, by the
arbitrary
whim of the creative power.
As
the Muhammadan would say, his fate is hung round his neck at birth, for a
man’s
fate depends on his character and his surroundings, and a newly created
soul
flung into the world must be doomed to happiness or misery according to the
circumstances
environing him and the character stamped upon him. Predestination
in
its most offensive form is the alternative of reincarnation. Instead of
looking
on men as slowly evolving, so that the brutal savage of today will in
time
evolve the noblest qualities of saint and hero, and thus, seeing in the
world
a wisely planned and wisely directed process of growth, we shall be
obliged
to see in it a chaos of most unjustly treated sentient beings, awarded
happiness
or misery, knowledge or ignorance, virtue or vice, wealth or poverty,
genius
or idiocy, by an arbitrary external will, unguided by either justice or
mercy
– a veritable pandemonium, irrational and unmeaning.
And
this chaos is supposed to be the higher part of the cosmos, in the lower
regions
of which are manifested all the orderly and beautiful workings of a law
that
ever evolves higher and more complex form from the lower and the simpler,
that
obviously "makes for righteousness," for harmony and for beauty.
If
it be admitted that the soul of the savage is destined to live and evolve,
and
that he is not doomed for eternity to his present infant state, but that his
evolution
will take place after death and in other worlds, then the principle of
soul-evolution
is conceded, and the question of the place of evolution alone
remains.
Were all souls on earth at the same stage of evolution, much might be
said
for the contention that further worlds are needed for the evolution of
souls
beyond the infant stage.
But
we have around us souls that are far advanced, and that were born with noble
mental
and moral qualities. But parity of reasoning, we must suppose them to
have
been evolved in other worlds ere their one birth in this, and we cannot but
wonder
why an earth that offers varied conditions, fit for little-developed and
also
for advanced souls, should be paid only one flying visit by souls at every
stage
of development, all the rest of their evolution being carried on in worlds
similar
to this, equally able to afford all the conditions needed to evolve the
souls
of different stages of evolution, as we find them to be when they are born
here.
The
Ancient Wisdom teaches, indeed, that the soul progresses through many
worlds,
but it also teaches that he is born in each of these worlds over and
over
again, until he has completed the evolution possible in that world. The
worlds
themselves, according to its teaching, form an evolutionary chain, and
each
plays its own part as a field for certain stages of evolution. Our own
world
offers a field suitable for the evolution of the mineral, vegetable,
animal
and human kingdoms, and therefore collective or individual reincarnation
goes
on upon it in all these kingdoms. Truly, further evolution lies before us
in
other worlds, but in the divine order they are not open to us until we have
learned
and mastered the lessons of our own world has to teach.
There
are many lines of thought that lead us to the same goal of reincarnation,
as
we study the world around us. The immense differences that separate man from
man
have already been noticed as implying an evolutionary past behind each soul;
and
attention has been drawn to these differentiating the individual
reincarnation
of men – all of whom belong to a single species – from the
reincarnation
of monadic group-souls in the lower kingdoms. The comparatively
small
differences that separate the physical bodies of men, all being externally
recognisable
as men, should be contrasted with the immense differences that
separate
the lowest savage and the noblest human type in mental and moral
capacities.
Savages are often splendid in physical development and with large
cranial
contents, but how different their minds from that of a philosopher or
saint!
If
high mental and moral qualities are regarded as the accumulated results of
civilised
living, then we are confronted with the fact that the ablest men of
the
present are over-topped by the intellectual giants of the past, and that
none
of our own day reaches the moral altitude of some historical saints.
Further,
we have to consider that genius has neither parent nor child; that it
appears
suddenly and not as the apex of a gradually improving family, and is
itself
generally sterile, or, if a child be born to it, it is a child of the
body,
not of the mind.
Still
more significantly, a musical genius is for the most part born in a
musical
family, because that form of genius needs for its manifestation a
nervous
organisation of a peculiar kind, and nervous organisation falls under
the
law of heredity. But how often in such a family its object seems over when
it
has provided a body for a genius, and it then flickers out and vanishes in a
few
generations into the obscurity of average humanity. Where are the
descendants
of Bach, of Beethoven, of Mozart, of Mendelssohn, equal to their
sires?
Truly genius does not descend from father to son, like the family types
of
the Stuart and the Bourbon.
On
what ground, save that or reincarnation, can the "infant prodigy" be
accounted
for? Take as an instance the case of the child who became Dr. Young,
the
discoverer of the undulatory theory of light, a man whose greatness is
scarcely
yet sufficiently widely recognised. As a child of two he could read
"with
considerable fluency", and before he was four he had read through the
Bible
twice; at seven he began arithmetic, and mastered Walkingham’s Tutor’s
Assistant
before he had reached the middle of it under his tutor, and a few
years
later we find him mastering, while at school, Latin, Greek, Hebrew,
mathematics,
book-keeping, French, Italian, turning and telescope-making and
delighting
in Oriental literature.
At
fourteen he was to be placed under private tuition with a boy a year and a
half
younger, but, the tutor first engaged failing to arrive, Young taught the
other
boy. (Life of Dr. Thomas Young, by G. Peacock, D.D.). Sir William Rowan
Hamilton
showed power even more precocious. He began to learn Hebrew when he was
barely
three, and "at the age of seven he was pronounced by one of the Fellows
of
Trinity College, Dublin, to have shown a greater knowledge of the language
than
many candidates for a fellowship. At the age of thirteen he had acquired
considerable
knowledge of at least thirteen languages.
Among
these, besides the classical and the modern European languages, were
included
Persian, Arabic, Sanskrit, Hindustani, and even Malay….. He wrote, at
the
age of fourteen, a complimentary letter to the Persian Ambassador, who
happened
to visit Dublin; and the latter said that he had not thought there was
a
man in Britain who could have written such a document in the Persian language.
A
relative of his says: "I remember him a little boy of six, when he would
answer
a difficult mathematical question, and run off gaily to his little cart.
At
twelve he engaged Colburn, the American ‘calculating boy,’ who was then being
exhibited
as a curiosity in Dublin, and he had not always the worst of the
encounter."
When he was eighteen, Dr. Brinkley (Royal Astronomer of Ireland)
said
of him in 1823: "This young man, I do not say will be, but is, the first
mathematician
of his age." "At college his career was perhaps unexampled. Among
a
number of competitors of more than ordinary merit, he was first in every
subject,
and at every examination. (North British Review, September 1866).
Let
the thoughtful student compare these boys with a semi-idiot, or even with an
average
lad, note how, starting with these advantages, they become leaders of
thought,
and then ask himself whether such souls have no past behind them.
Family
likenesses are generally explained as being due to the "law of
heredity,"
but
differences in mental and in moral character are continually found within a
family
circle, and these are left unexplained. Reincarnation explains the
likenesses
by the fact that a soul in taking birth is directed to a family which
provides
by its physical heredity a body suitable to express his
characteristics;
and it explains the unlikenesses by attaching the mental and
moral
character to the individual himself, while showing that ties set up in the
past
have led him to take birth in connection with some other individual of that
family.
(See Chapter IX, on "Karma").
A
"matter of significance in connection with twins is that during infancy
they
will
often be indistinguishable from each other, even to the keen eye of the
mother
and of nurse; whereas, later in life, when Manas has been working on his
physical
encasement, he will have so modified it that the physical likeness
lessens
and the differences of character stamp themselves on the mobile
features."
[ Reincarnation by Annie Besant, ] Physical likeness with mental and
moral
unlikeness seems to imply the meeting of two different lines of causation.
The
striking dissimilarity found to exist between people of about equal
intellectual
power in assimilating particular kinds of knowledge is another
"pointer"
to reincarnation. A truth is recognised at once by one, while the
other
fails to grasp it even after long and careful observation. Yet the very
opposite
may be the case when another truth is presented to them, and it may be
seen
by the second and missed by the first. "Two students are attracted to
Theosophy and begin
to study it, at a year’s end one is familiar with its main
conceptions
and can apply them, while the other is struggling in a maze. To the
one
each principle seemed familiar on presentation ; to the other new,
unintelligible,
strange.
The
believer in reincarnation understands that the teaching is old to the one,
and
new to the other; one learns quickly because he remembers, he is but
recovering
past knowledge; the other learns slowly because his experience has
not
included these truths of nature, and he is acquiring them toil fully for the
first
time.[ Reincarnation by annie Besant, ] " So also ordinary intuition is
"merely
recognition of a fact familiar in a past life, though met with for the
first
time in the present," another sign of the road along which the individual
has
traveled in the past.
The
main difficulty with many people in the reception of the doctrine of
reincarnation
is their own absence of memory of their past. Yet they are every
day
familiar with the fact that they have forgotten very much even of their
lives
in their present bodies, and that the early years of childhood are blurred
and
those of infancy a blank. They must also know that events of the past which
have
entirely slipped out of their normal consciousness are yet hidden away in
dark
caves of memory and ban be brought out again vividly in some forms of
disease
or under the influence of mesmerism.
A
dying man has been known to speak a language heard only in infancy, and
unknown
to him during a long life; in delirium, events long forgotten have
presented
themselves vividly to the consciousness. Nothing is really forgotten;
but
much is hidden out of sight of the limited vision of our waking
consciousness,
the most limited form of our consciousness, although the only
consciousness
recognised by the vast majority. Just as memory of some of the
present
life is in-drawn beyond the reach of this waking consciousness, and
makes
itself known again only when the brain is hypersensitive and thus able to
respond
to vibrations that usually beat against it unheeded, so is the memory of
the
past lives stored up our of reach of the physical consciousness. It is all
with
the Thinker, who alone persists from life to life; he has the whole book of
memory
within his reach, for he is the only " I " that has passed through
all
the
experiences recorded therein.
Moreover,
he can impress his own memories of the past on his physical vehicle,
as
soon as it has been sufficiently purified to answer his swift and subtle
vibrations,
and then the man of flesh can share his knowledge of the storied
past.
The difficulty of memory does not lie in forgetfulness, for the lower
vehicle,
the physical body, has never passed through the previous lives of its
owner;
it lies in the absorption of the present body in its present environment,
in
its coarse unresponsiveness to the delicate thrills in which alone the soul
can
speak. Those who would remember the past must not have their interests
centred
in the present, and they must purify and refine the body till it is able
to
receive impressions from the subtler spheres.
Memory
of their own past lives, however, is possessed by a considerable number
of
people who have achieved the necessary sensitiveness of the physical
organism,
and to these of course, reincarnation is no longer a theory, but has
become
a matter of personal knowledge. They have learned how much richer life
becomes
when memories of past lives pout into it, when the friends of this brief
day
are found to be the friends of the long-ago, and old remembrances strengthen
the
ties of the fleeting present. Life gains security and dignity when it is
seen
with a long vista behind it, and when the loves of old reappear in the
loves
of today. Death fades into its proper place as a mere incident in life, a
change
from one scene to another, like a journey that separates bodies but
cannot
sunder friend from friend. The links of the present are found to be part
of
a golden chain that stretches backwards, and the future can be faced with a
glad
security in the thought that these links will endure through days to come,
and
form part of that unbroken chain.
Now
and then we find children who have brought over a memory of their immediate
past,
for the most part when they have died in childhood and are reborn almost
immediately.
In the West such cases are rarer than in the East, because in the
West
the first words of such a child would be met with disbelief, and he would
quickly
lose faith in his own memories. In the East, where belief in
reincarnation
is almost universal, the child’s remembrances are listened to, and
where
the opportunity serves they have been verified.
There
is another important point with respect to memory that will repay
consideration.
The memory of past events remains, as we have seen, with the
Thinker
only, but the results of those events embodied in faculties are at the
service
of the lower man. If the whole of these past events were thrown down
into
the physical brain, a vast mass of experiences in no classified order,
without
arrangement, the man could not be guided by the out come of the past,
nor
utilise it for present help. Compelled to make a choice between two lines of
action,
he would have to pick, out of the un-arranged facts from his past,
events
similar in character, trace out their results, and after long and weary
study
arrive at some conclusion – a conclusion very likely to be vitiated by the
overlooking
of some important factor, and reached long after the need for
decision
had passed.
All
the events, trivial and important, of some hundreds of lives would form a
rather
unwieldy and chaotic mass for reference in an emergency that demanded a
swift
action. The far more effective plan of Nature leaves to the Thinker the
memory
of the events, provides a long period of excarnate existence for the
mental
body, during which all events are tabulated and compared and their
results
are classified; then these results are embodied as faculties, and these
faculties
form the next mental body of the Thinker.
In
this way, the enlarged and improved faculties are available for immediate
use,
and, the faculties of the past being in them, a decision can be come to, in
accordance
with those results and without any delay. The clear quick insight and
prompt
judgment are nothing else than the outcome of past experiences, moulded
into
an effective form for use; they are surely more useful instruments than
would
be a mass of unassimilated experiences, out of which the relevant ones
would
have to be selected and compared, and from which inferences would have to
be
drawn, on each separate occasion on which a choice arises.
From
all these lines of thought, however, the mind turns back to rest on the
fundamental
necessity for reincarnation if life is to be made intelligible, and
if
injustice and cruelty are not to mock the helplessness of man. With
reincarnation
man is a dignified, immortal being, evolving towards a divinely
glorious
end; without it, he is a tossing straw on the stream of chance
circumstances
, irresponsible for his character, for his actions, for his
destiny.
With
it, he may look forward with fearless hope, however low in the scale of
evolution
he may be today, for he is on the ladder to divinity, and the climbing
to
its summit is only a question of time; without it, he has no reasonable
ground
of assurance as to progress in the future, nor indeed any reasonable
ground
of assurance in a future at all. Why should a creature without a past
look
forward to a future?He may be a mere bubble on the ocean of time. Flung
into
the world from non-entity, with qualities of good or evil, attached to him
without
reason or desert, why should he strive to make the best of them? Will
not
his future, if he have one, be as isolated, as uncaused, as unrelated as his
present?
In dropping reincarnation from its beliefs, the modern world has
deprived
God of His justice and has bereft man of his security; he may be
"lucky"
or "unlucky" but the strength and dignity conferred by reliance on a
changeless
law are rent away from him, and he is left tossing helplessly on an
un-navigable
ocean of life.
KARMA
Having
traced the evolution of the soul by the way of reincarnation, we are now
in
a position to study the great law of causation under which rebirths are
carried
on, the law which is named Karma. Karma is a Sanskrit word, literally
meaning
"action"; as all actions are effects flowing from preceding causes,
and
as
each effect becomes a cause of future effects, this idea of cause and effect
is
an essential part of the idea of action, and the word action, or karma, is
therefore
used for causation, or for the unbroken linked series of causes and
effects
that make up all human activity.
Hence
the phrase is sometimes used of an event, "This is my karma," i.e.,
"This
event
is the effect of a cause set going by me in the past." No one life is
isolated!
It is the child of all the lives before it, the parent of all the
lives
that follow it, in the total aggregate of the lives that make up the
continuing
existence of the individual.
There
is no such thing as "chance" or as "accident"; every event
is linked to a
preceding
cause, to a following effect; all thoughts, deeds, circumstances are
causally
related to the past and will causally influence the future; as our
ignorance
shrouds from our vision alike the past and the future, events often
appear
to us to come suddenly from the void, to be "accidental," but this
appearance
is illusory and is due entirely to our lack of knowledge. Just as the
savage,
ignorant of the laws of the physical universe, regards physical events
as
uncaused, and the results of unknown physical laws as "miracles"; so
do many,
ignorant
of moral and mental laws, regard moral and mental events as uncaused,
and
the results of unknown moral and mental laws as good and bad "luck."
When
at first this idea of inviolable, immutable law is a realm hitherto vaguely
ascribed
to chance dawns upon the mind, it is apt to result in a sense of
helplessness,
almost of moral and mental paralysis. Man seems to be held in the
grip
of an iron destiny, and the resigned "kismet" of the Moslem appears
to be
the
only philosophical utterance. Just so might the savage feel when the idea of
physical
law first dawns on his startled intelligence, and he learns that every
movement
of his body, every movement in external nature, is carried on under
immutable
laws.
Gradually
he learns that natural laws only lay down conditions under which all
workings
must be carried on, but do not prescribe the workings; so that man
remains
ever free at the centre, while limited in his external activities by the
conditions
of the plane on which those activities are carried on. He learns
further
that while the conditions master him, constantly frustrating his
strenuous
efforts, so long as he is ignorant of them, or, knowing them, fights
against
them, he masters them and they become his servants and helpers when he
understands
them, knows their directions, and calculates their forces.
In
truth science is possible only on the physical plane because its laws are
inviolable,
immutable. Were there no such things as natural laws, there could be
no
sciences. An investigator makes a number of experiments, and from the results
of
these he learns how Nature works; knowing this, he can calculate how to bring
about
a certain desired result, and if he fail in achieving that result he knows
that
he has omitted some necessary condition – either his knowledge is
imperfect,
or he has made a miscalculation. He reviews his knowledge, revises
his
methods, recasts his calculations, with a serene and complete certainty that
if
he ask his question rightly Nature will answer him with unvarying precision.
Hydrogen
and oxygen will not give him water today and prussic acid tomorrow;
fire
will not burn him today and freeze him tomorrow. If water be a fluid today
and
a solid tomorrow, it is because the conditions surrounding it have been
altered,
and the reinstatement of the original conditions will bring about the
original
result.
Every
new piece of information about the laws of Nature is not a fresh
restriction
but a fresh power, for all these energies of Nature become forces
which
he can use in proportion as he understands them. Hence the saying that
"knowledge
is power," for exactly in proportion to his knowledge can he utilise
these
forces; by selecting those with which he will work, by balancing one
against
another, by neutralising opposing energies that would interfere with his
object,
he can calculate beforehand the result, and bring about what he
predetermines.
Understanding
and manipulating causes, he can predict effects, and thus the very
rigidity
of nature which seemed at first to paralyse human action can be used to
produce
and infinite variety of results. Perfect rigidity in each separate force
makes
possible perfect flexibility in their combinations. For the forces being
of
every kind, moving in every direction, and each being calculable, a selection
can
be made and the selected forces so combined as to yield any desired result.
The
object to be gained being determined, it can be infallibly obtained by a
careful
balancing of forces in the combination put together as a cause. But, be
it
remembered, knowledge is requisite thus to guide events, to bring about
desired
results. The ignorant man stumbles helplessly along, striking himself
against
the immutable laws and seeing his efforts fail, while the man of
knowledge
walks steadily forward, foreseeing, causing, preventing, adjusting,
and
bringing about that at which he aims, not because he is lucky but because he
understands.
The one is the toy, the slave of Nature, whirled along by her
forces:
the other is her master, using her energies to carry him onwards in the
direction
chosen by his will.
That
which is true of the physical realm of law is true of the moral and mental
worlds,
equally realms of law. Here also the ignorant is a slave, the sage is a
monarch;
here also the inviolability, the immutability, that were regarded as
paralysing,
are found to be the necessary conditions of sure progress and of
clear-sighted
direction of the future. Man can become the master of his destiny
only
because that destiny lies in a realm of law, where knowledge can build up
the
science of the soul and place in the hands of man the power of controlling
his
future – of choosing alike his future character and his future
circumstances.The
knowledge of karma that threatened to paralyse, becomes an
inspiring,
a supporting, an uplifting force.
Karma
is then, the law of causation, the law of cause and effect. It was put
pointedly
by the Christian Initiate, S. Paul: "Be not deceived, God is not
mocked:
for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap."(Galatians, vi, 7).
Man
is continually sending out forces on all the planes on which he functions;
these
forces – themselves in quantity and quality the effects of his past
activities
– are causes which he sets going in each world he inhabits; they
bring
about certain definite effects both on himself and on others, and as these
causes
radiate forth from himself as centre over the whole field of his
activity,
he is responsible for the results they bring about.
As
a magnet has its "magnetic field," an area within which all its
forces play,
larger
or smaller according to its strength, so has every man a field of
influence
within which play the forces he emits, and these forces work in curves
that
return to their forth-sender, that re-enter the centre whence they emerged.
As
the subject is a very complicated one, we will sub-divide it, and then study
the
subdivisions one by one.
Three
classes of energies are sent forth by man in his ordinary life, belonging
respectively
to the three worlds that he inhabits; mental energies on the mental
plane,
giving rise to the causes we call thoughts; desire energies on the astral
plane,
giving rise to those we call desires; physical energies aroused by these,
and
working on the physical plane, giving rise to the causes we call action. We
have
to study each of these in its workings, and to understand the class of
effects
to which each gives rise, if we wish to trace intelligently the part
that
each plays in the perplexed and complicated combinations we set up, called
in
their totality "our Karma." When a man, advancing more swiftly than
his
fellows,
gains the ability to function on higher planes, he then becomes the
centre
of higher forces, but for the present we may leave these out of account
and
confine ourselves to ordinary humanity, treading the cycle of reincarnation
in
the three worlds.
In
studying these three classes of energies we shall have to distinguish between
their
effect on the man who generates them and their effect on others who come
within
the field of his influence; for a lack of understanding on this point
often
leaves the student in a slough of hopeless bewilderment.
Then
we must remember that every force works on its own plane and reacts on the
planes
below it in proportion to its intensity, the plane on which it is
generated
gives it its special characteristics, and in its reaction on lower
planes
it sets up vibrations in their finer or coarser materials according to
its
own original nature.The motive which generates the activity determines the
plane
to which the force belongs.
Next
it will be necessary to distinguish between ripe karma, ready to show
itself
as inevitable events in the present life; the karma of character, showing
itself
in tendencies that are the outcome of accumulated experiences, and that
are
capable of being modified in the present life by the same power (the Ego)
that
created them in the past; the karma that is now making, and will give rise
to
future events and future character. ( These divisions are familiar to the
student
as Prarabdha (commenced, to be worked out in the life); Sanchita
(accumulated),
a part of which is seen in the tendencies, Kriyamana, (in course
of
making).
Further,
we have to realise that while a man makes his own individual karma he
also
connects himself thereby with others, thus becoming a member of various
groups
– family, national, racial – and as a member he shares in the collective
karma
of each of these groups.
It
will be seen that the study of karma is one of much complexity; however, by
grasping
the main principles of its working as set out above, a coherent idea of
its
general bearing may be obtained without much difficulty, and its details can
be
studied at leisure as opportunity offers. Above all, let it never be
forgotten,
whether details are understood or not, that each man makes his own
karma,
creating alike his own capacities and his own limitations; and that
working
at any time with these self-created capacities, and within these
self-created
limitations, he is still himself, the living soul, and can
strengthen
or weaken his capacities, enlarge or contract his limitations.
The
chains that bind him are of his own forging, and he can file them away or
rivet
them more strongly; the house he lives in is of his own building, and he
can
improve it, let it deteriorate, or rebuild it, as he will. We are ever
working
in plastic clay and can shape it to our fancy, but the clay hardens and
becomes
as iron, retaining the shape we gave it. A proverb from the Hitopadesha
runs,
as translated by Sir Edwin Arnold:
"Look!
The clay dries into iron, but the potter moulds the clay;
Destiny
today is the master – Man was master yesterday. "
Thus
we are all masters of our tomorrows, however much we are hampered today by
the
results of our yesterdays.
Let
us now take in order the divisions already set out under which karma may be
studied.
Three
classes of causes, with their effects on their creator and on those he
influences.The
first of these classes is composed of our thoughts. Thought is
the
most potent factor in the creation of human karma, for in thought the
energies
of the SELF are working in mental matter, the matter which, in its
finer
kinds, forms the individual vehicle, and even in its coarser kinds
responds
swiftly to every vibration of self-consciousness. The vibrations which
we
call thought, the immediate activity of the Thinker, give rise to forms of
mind-stuff,
or mental images, which shape and mould his mental body, as we have
already
seen; every thought modifies this mental body, and the mental faculties
in
each successive life are made by the thinkings of the previous lives.
A
man can have no thought-power, no mental ability, that he has not himself
created
by patiently repeated thinkings; on the other hand, no mental image that
he
has thus created is lost, but remains as material for faculty, and the
aggregate
of any group of mental images is built into a faculty which grows
stronger
with every additional thinking, or creation of a mental image, of the
same
kind.
Knowing
this law, the man can gradually make for himself the mental character he
desires
to possess and he can do it as definitely and as certainly as a
bricklayer
can build a wall. Death does not stop his work, but by setting him
free
from the encumbrance of the body facilitates the process of working up his
mental
images into the definite organ we call a faculty, and he brings this back
with
him to his next birth on the physical plane, part of the brain of the new
body
being moulded so as to serve as the organ of this faculty, in a way to be
explained
presently.
All
these faculties together form the mental body for his opening life on earth,
and
his brain and nervous system are shaped to give his mental body expression
on
the physical plane. Thus the mental images created in one life appear as
mental
characteristics and tendencies in another, and for this reason it is
written
in one of the Upanishads: "Man is a creature of reflection: that which
he
reflects on in this life he becomes the same hereafter."
(Chhandogyopanishad
IV,
xiv,1). Such is the law, and it places the building of our mental character
entirely
in our own hands; if we build well, ours the advantage and the credit;
if
we build badly, ours the loss and blame. Mental character, then, is a case of
individual
karma in its action on the individual who generates it.
This
same man that we are considering, however, affects other by his thoughts.
For
these mental images that form his own mental body set up vibrations, thus
reproducing
themselves in secondary forms. These generally, being mingled with
desire,
take up some astral matter, and I have therefore elsewhere (see Karma, -
Theosophical
Manual No. IV) called these secondary thought-forms – astro-mental
images.
Such forms leave their creator and lead a quasi-independent life – still
keeping
up a magnetic tie with their progenitor.
They
come into contact with and affect others, in this way setting up karmic
links
between these others and himself; thus they largely influence his future
environment.
In such fashion are made the ties which draw people together for
good
or evil in later lives; which surround us with relatives, friends, and
enemies;
which bring across our path helpers and hinderers, people who benefit
and
who injure us, people who love us without our winning in this life, and who
hate
us though in this life we have done nothing to deserve their hatred.
Studying
the results, we grasp a great principle – that while our thoughts
produce
our mental and moral character in their action on ourselves, they help
to
determine our human associates in the future by their effects on others.
The
second great class of energies is composed of our desires – our out-goings
after
objects that attract us in the external world: as a mental element always
enters
into these in man, we may extend the term "mental images " to include
them,
although they express themselves chiefly in astral matter. These in their
action
on their progenitor mould and form his body of desire, or astral body,
shape
his fate when he passes into Kamaloka after death, and determine the
nature
of his astral body in his next rebirth.
When
the desires are bestial, drunken, cruel, unclean, they are the fruitful
causes
of congenital diseases, of weak and diseased brains, giving rise to
epilepsy,
catalepsy, and nervous diseases of all kinds, of physical
malformations
and deformities, and, in extreme cases, of monstrosities. Bestial
appetites
of an abnormal kind or intensity may set up links in the astral world
which
for a time chain the Egos, clothed in astral bodies shaped by these
appetites,
to the astral bodies of animals to which these appetites properly
belong,
thus delaying their reincarnation; where this fate is escaped, the
bestially
shaped astral body will sometimes impress its characteristics on the
forming
physical body of the babe during ante natal life, and produce the
semi-human
horrors that are occasionally born.
Desires
– because they are outgoing energies that attach themselves to objects –
always
attract the man towards an environment in which they may be gratified.
Desires
for earthly things, linking the soul to the outer world, draw him
towards
the place where the objects of desire are most readily obtainable, and
therefore
it is said that a man is born according to his desires. ( See
Brihadaranyakopanishad,IV,iv,
5,7,and context). They are one of the causes that
determine
the place of rebirth.
The
astro-mental images caused by desires affect others as do those generated by
thoughts.
They, therefore, also link us with other souls, and often by the
strongest
ties of love and hatred, for at the present stage of human evolution
an
ordinary man’s desires are generally stronger and more sustained than his
thoughts.
They thus play a great part in determining his human surroundings in
future
lives, and may bring into those lives persons and influences of whose
connection
with himself he is totally unconscious.
Suppose
a man by sending out a thought of bitter hatred and revenge has helped
to
form in another the impulse which results in a murder; the creator of that
thought
is linked by his karma to the committer of the crime, although they have
never
met on the physical plane, and the wrong he has done to him, by helping to
impel
him to a crime , will come back as an injury in the infliction of which
the
whilhom criminal will play his part. Many a "bolt from the blue" that
is
felt
is utterly undeserved is the effect of such a cause, and the soul thereby
learns
and registers a lesson while the lower consciousness is writhing under a
sense
of injustice.
Nothing
can strike a man that he has not deserved, but his absence of memory
does
not cause a failure in the working of the law. We thus learn that our
desires
in their action on ourselves produce our desire-nature, and through it
largely
affect our physical bodies in our next birth; that they play a great
part
in determining the place of rebirth; and by their effect on others they
help
to draw around us our human associates in future lives.
The
third great class of energies, appearing on the physical plane as actions,
generate
much karma by their effects on others, but only slightly affect
directly
the Inner Man. They are effects of his past thinkings and desires, and
the
karma they represent is for the most part exhausted in their happening.
Indirectly
they affect him in proportion as he is moved by them to fresh
thoughts
and desires or emotions, but the generating force lies in these and not
in
the actions themselves.
Again,
if actions are often repeated, they set up a habit of the body which acts
as
a limitation to the expression of the Ego in the outer world; this, however,
perishes
with the body, thus limiting the karma of the action to a single life
so
far as its effect on the soul is concerned. But it far otherwise when we come
to
study the effects of actions on others, the happiness or unhappiness caused
by
these, and the influence exercised by these as examples.They link us to
others
by this influence and are thus a third factor in determining our future
human
associates, while they are the chief factor in determining what may be
called
our non-human environment. Broadly speaking, the favourable or
unfavourable
nature of the physical surroundings into which we are born depends
on
the effect of our previous actions in spreading happiness or unhappiness
among
other people. The physical results on others of actions on the physical
plane
work out karmically in repaying to the actor good or bad surroundings in a
future
life.
If
he has made people physically happy, by sacrificing wealth or time or
trouble,
this action karmically brings him favourable physical circumstances
conducive
to physical happiness. If he has caused people wide-spread physical
misery,
he will reap karmically from his action wretched physical circumstances
conducive
to physical suffering. And this is so, whatever may have been his
motive
in either case – a fact which leads us to consider the law that:
Every
force works on its own plane. If a man sows happiness for others on the
physical
plane, he will reap conditions favourable to happiness for himself on
that
plane, and his motive in sowing it does not affect the result . A man might
sow
wheat with the object of speculating with it to ruin his neighbour, but his
bad
motive would not make the wheat grains grow up as dandelions. Motive is a
mental
or astral force, according as it arises from will or desire, and it
reacts
on moral and mental character or on the desire-nature severally.
The
causing of physical happiness by an action is a physical force and works on
the
physical plane. "By his actions" man affects his neighbours on the
physical
plane;
he spreads happiness around him or he causes distress, increasing or
diminishing
the sum of human welfare. This increase or diminution of happiness
may
be due to very different motives – good, bad, or mixed. A man may do an act
that
gives widespread enjoyment from sheer benevolence, from a longing to give
happiness
to his fellow creatures.
Let
us say that from such a motive he presents a park to a town for the free use
of
its inhabitants; another may do a similar act from mere ostentation, from
desire
to attract attention from those who can bestow social honours (say, he
might
give it as purchase-money for a title); a third may give a park from mixed
motives,
partly unselfish, partly selfish. The motives will severally affect
these
three men’s characters in their future incarnations, for improvement, for
degradation,
for small results.
But
the effect of the action is causing happiness to large numbers of people
does
not depend on the motive of the giver; the people enjoy the park equally,
no
matter what may have prompted its gift, and this enjoyment, due to the action
of
the giver, establishes for him a karmic claim on Nature, a debt due to him
that
will be scrupulously paid. He will receive a physically comfortable or
luxurious
environment, as he has given widespread physical enjoyment, and his
sacrifice
of physical wealth will bring him his due reward, the karmic fruit of
his
action.
This
is his right. But the use he makes of his position, the happiness he
derives
from his wealth and his surroundings, will depend chiefly on his
character,
and here again the just reward accrues to him, each seed bearing its
appropriate
harvest. Truly, the ways of Karma are equal. It does not withhold
from
the bad man the result which justly follows from an action which spreads
happiness,
and it also deals out to him the deteriorated character earned by his
bad
motive, so that in the midst of wealth he will remain discontented and
unhappy.
Nor
can the good man escape physical suffering if he cause physical misery by
mistaken
actions done from good motive; the misery he caused will bring him
misery
in his physical surroundings, but his good motive, improving his
character,
will give him a source of perennial happiness within himself, and he
will
be patient and contented amid his troubles. Many a puzzle maybe answered by
applying
these principles to the facts we see around us.
These
respective effects of motive and of the results (or fruits) of actions are
due
to the fact that each force has the characteristics of the plane on which it
was
generated, and the higher the plane the more potent and the more persistent
the
force. Hence motive is far more important than action, and a mistaken action
done
with a good motive is productive of more good to the doer than a
well-chosen
action done with a bad motive. The motive, reacting on the
character,
gives rise to a long series of effects, for the future actions guided
by
that character will all be influenced by its improvement or its deterioration
‘
whereas the action, bringing on its doer physical happiness or unhappiness,
according
to its results on others, has in it no generating force, but is
exhausted
in its results.
If
bewildered as to the path of right action by a conflict of apparent duties,
the
knower of karma diligently tries to choose the best path, using his reason
and
judgment to the utmost; he is scrupulously careful about his motive,
eliminating
selfish considerations and purifying his heart; then he acts
fearlessly,
and if his action turn out to be a blunder he willingly accepts the
suffering
which results from his mistake as a lesson which will be useful in the
future.
Meanwhile, his high motive has ennobled his character for all time to
come.
This
general principle that the force belongs to the plane on which it is
generated
is one of far-reaching import. If it be liberated with the motive of
gaining
physical objects, it works on the physical plane and attaches the actor
to
that plane. If it aim at devachanic objects, it works on the devachanic plane
and
attaches the actor thereto. If it have no motive save the divine service, it
is
set free on the spiritual plane, and therefore cannot attach the individual,
since
the individual is asking for nothing.
The
Three Kinds of Karma
Ripe
Karma is that which is ready for reaping and which is therefore inevitable.
Out
of all the karma of the past there is a certain amount which can be
exhausted
within the limits of a single life; there are some kinds of karma that
are
so incongruous that they could not be worked out in a single physical body,
but
would require very different types of body for their expression; there are
liabilities
contracted towards other souls, and all these souls will not be in
incarnation
at the same time; there is karma that must be worked out in some
particular
nation or particular social position, while the same man has other
karma
that needs an entirely different environment.
Part
only, therefore, of his total karma can be worked out in a given life, and
this
part is selected by the Great Lords of Karma – of whom something will
presently
be said – and the soul is guided to incarnate in a family, a nation, a
place,
a body, suitable for the exhaustion of that aggregate of causes which can
be
worked out together. This aggregate of causes fixes the length of that
particular
life; gives to the body its characteristics, its powers, and its
limitations;
brings into contact with the man the souls incarnated within that
life-period
to whom he has contracted obligations, surrounding him with
relatives,
friends, and enemies; marks out the social conditions into which he
is
born, with their accompanying advantages and disadvantages; selects the
mental
energies he can show forth by moulding the organisation of the brain and
nervous
system with which he has to work; puts together the causes that result
in
troubles and joys in his outer career and that can be brought into a single
life.
All
this is the "ripe karma," and this can be sketched out in a horoscope
cast
by
a competent astrologer. In all this the man has no power of choice; all is
fixed
by the choices he has made in the past, and he must discharge to the
uttermost
farthing the liabilities he has contracted.
The
physical, astral and mental bodies which the soul takes on for a new
life-period
are, as we have seen, the direct result of his past, and they form a
most
important part of this ripe karma. They limit the soul on every side, and
his
past rises up in judgment against him, marking out the limitations which he
has
made for himself. Cheerfully to accept these, and diligently to work at
their
improvement, is the part of the wise man, for he cannot escape from them.
There
is another kind of ripe karma that is of very serious importance – that of
inevitable
actions. Every action is the final expression of a series of
thoughts;
to borrow an illustration from chemistry, we obtain a saturated
solution
of thought by adding thought after thought of the same kind, until
another
thought – or even an impulse, a vibration, from without – will produce
the
solidification of the whole; the action which expresses the thoughts. If we
persistently
reiterate thoughts of the same kind, say of revenge, we at last
reach
the point of saturation, and any impulse will solidify these into action
and
a crime results. Or we may have persistently reiterated thoughts of help to
another
to the point of saturation, and when the stimulus of opportunity touches
us
they crystallise out as an act of heroism.
A
man may bring over with him some ripe karma of this kind, and the first
vibration
that touches such a mass of thoughts ready to solidify into action
will
hurry him without his renewed volition, unconsciously, into the commission
of
the act. He cannot stop to think; he is in the condition in which the first
vibration
of the mind causes action; poised on the very point of balancing, the
slightest
impulse sends him over. Under these circumstances a man will marvel at
his
own commission of some crime, or at his own performance of some sublime act
of
self-devotion. He says: " I did it without thinking," unknowing that
he had
thought
so often that he had made that action inevitable. When a man has willed
to
do an act many times, he at last fixes his will irrevocably, and it is only a
question
of opportunity when he will act.
So
long he can think, his freedom of choice remains, for he can set the new
though
against the old and gradually wear it out by the reiteration of opposing
thoughts;
but when the next thrill of the soul in response to a stimulus means
action,
the power of choice is exhausted.
Herein
lies the solution of the old problem of necessity and free will; man by
the
exercise of free will gradually creates necessities for himself, and between
the
two extremes lie all the combinations of free will and necessity which make
the
struggles within ourselves of which we are conscious.
We
are continually making habits by the repetitions of purposive actions guided
by
the will; then the habit becomes a limitation, and we perform the action
automatically.
Perhaps we are then driven to the conclusion that the habit is a
bad
one, and we begin laboriously to unmake it by thoughts of the opposite kind,
and,
after many an inevitable lapse into it, the new thought-current turns the
stream,
and we regain our full freedom, often again gradually to make another
fetter.
So
old thought-forms persist and limit our thinking capacity, showing as
individual
and as national prejudices. The majority do not know that they are
thus
limited, and go on serenely in their chains, ignorant of their bondage;
those
who learn the truth about their own nature become free. The constitution
of
our brain and nervous system is one of the most marked necessities in life;
these
we have made inevitable by our past thinkings, and they now limit us and
we
often chafe against them. They can be improved slowly and gradually; the
limits
can be expanded, but they cannot be suddenly transcended.
Another
form of this ripe karma is where some past evil-thinking has made a
crust
of evil habits around a man which imprisons him and makes an evil life;
the
actions are the inevitable outcome of his past, as just explained, and they
have
been held over, even through several lives, in consequence of those lives
not
offering opportunities for their manifestation. Meanwhile the soul has been
growing
and has been developing noble qualities. In one life this crust of past
evil
is thrown out by opportunity, and because of this the soul cannot show his
later
development; like a chicken ready to be hatched, he is hidden within the
imprisoning
shell, and only the shell is visible to the external eye. After a
time
that karma is exhausted, and some apparently fortuitous event – a word from
a
great Teacher, a book, a lecture – breaks the shell and the souls comes forth
free.
These
are the rare, sudden, but permanent "conversions," the "miracles
of divine
grace,"
of which we hear; all perfectly intelligible to the knower of karma, and
felling
within the realm of the law. The accumulated karma that shows itself as
character
is, unlike the ripe, always subject to modifications. It may be said
to
consist of tendencies, strong or weak, according to the thought-force that
has
gone to their making, and these can be further strengthened or weakened by
fresh
streams of thought-force sent to work with or against them.
If
we find in ourselves tendencies of which we disapprove, we can set ourselves
to
work to eliminate them; often we fail to withstand temptation, overborne by
the
strong out-rushing stream of desire, but the longer we can hold out against
it,
even though we fail in the end, the nearer are we to overcoming it. Every
such
failure is a step towards success, for the resistance wears away part of
the
energy, and there is less of it available for the future. The karma which is
in
the course of making has been already studied.
Collective
Karma
When
a group of people is considered karmically, the play of karmic forces upon
each
member of the group introduces a new factor into the karma of the
individual.
We know that when a number of forces play on a point, the motion of
the
point is not in the direction of any one of these forces, but in the
direction
which is the result of their combination. So the karma of a group is
the
resultant of the interacting forces of the individuals composing it, and all
the
individuals are carried along in the direction of that resultant.
An
Ego is drawn by his individual karma into a family, having set up in previous
lives
ties which closely connect him with some of the other Egos composing it;
the
family has inherited property from a grandfather who is wealthy; an heir
turns
up, descended from the grandfather’s elder brother, who had been supposed
to
have died childless, and the wealth passes to him and leaves the father of
the
family heavily indebted; it is quite possible that our Ego had had no
connection
in the past with this heir, to whom in past lives the father had
contracted
some obligation which has resulted in this catastrophe, and yet he is
threatened
with suffering by his action, being involved with family karma.
If,
in his own individual past, there was a wrong-doing which can be exhausted
by
suffering caused by the family karma, he is left involved in it; if not, he
is
by some "unforeseen circumstances" lifted out of it, perchance by
some
benevolent
stranger who feels an impulse to adopt and educate him, the stranger
being
one who in the past was his debtor.
Yet
more clearly does this come out, in the working of such things as railway
accidents,
shipwrecks, floods, cyclones, etc. A train is wrecked, the
catastrophe
being immediately due to the action of the drivers, the guards, the
railway
directors, the makers or employees of that line, who thinking themselves
wronged,
send clustering thoughts of discontent and anger against it as a whole.
Those
who have in their accumulated karma – but not necessarily in their ripe
karma
– the debt of a life suddenly cut short, may be allowed to drift into this
accident
and pay their debt; another, intending to go by the train, but with no
such
debt in his past, is "providentially" saved by being late for it.
Collective
karma may throw a man into the troubles consequent on his nation
going
to war, and here again he may discharge his debts of his past not
necessarily
within the ripe karma of his then life. In no case can a man suffer
that
which he has not deserved, but, if an unforeseen opportunity should arise
to
discharge a past obligation, it is well to pay it and be rid of it for
evermore.
The
"Lords of Karma" are the great spiritual Intelligences who keep the
karmic
Records
and adjust the complicated workings of karmic law. They are described by
H.P.
Blavatsky in The Secret Doctrine as the Lipika, the Recorders of Karma, and
the
Maharajas (The Mahadevas, or Chaturdevas of the Hindus) – and Their hosts,
who
are "the agents of Karma upon earth." The Lipika are They who know
the
karmic
record of every man, and who with omniscient wisdom select and combine
portions
of that record to form the plan of a single life; They give the
"idea"
of
the physical body which is to be the garment of the reincarnating soul,
expressing
his capacities and his limitations; this is taken by the Maharajas
and
worked into a detailed model, which is committed to one of Their inferior
agents
to be copied; this copy is the etheric double , the matrix of the dense
body,
the materials for these being drawn from the mother and subject to
physical
heredity.
The
race, the country, the parents, are chosen for their capacity to provide
suitable
materials for the physical body of the incoming Ego, and suitable
surroundings
for his early life. The physical heredity of the family affords
certain
types and has evolved certain peculiarities of material combinations;
hereditary
diseases, hereditary finenesses of nervous organisation, imply
definite
combinations of physical matter, capable of transmission.
An
Ego who has evolved peculiarities in his mental and astral bodies, needing
special
physical peculiarities for their expression, is guided to parents whose
physical
heredity enables them to meet these requirements. Thus an Ego with high
artistic
faculties devoted to music would be guided to take his physical body in
a
musical family, in which the materials supplied for building the etheric
double
and the dense body would have been made ready to adapt themselves to his
needs,
and the hereditary type of nervous system would furnish the delicate
apparatus
necessary for the expression of his faculties.
An
Ego of very evil type would be guided to a coarse and vicious family, whose
bodies
were built of the coarsest combinations, such as would make a body able
to
respond to the impulses from his mental and astral bodies. An Ego who had
allowed
his astral body and lower mind to lead him into excesses, and had
yielded
to drunkenness, for instance, would be led to incarnate in a family
whose
nervous systems were weakened by excess, and would be born from drunken
parents,
who would supply diseased materials for his physical envelope. The
guidance
of the Lords of Karma thus adjust means to ends, and insures the doing
of
justice; the Ego brings with him his karmic possessions of faculties and
desires,
and he receives a physical body suited to be their vehicle.
As
the soul must return to earth until he has discharged all his liabilities,
thus
exhausting all his individual karma, and as in each life thoughts and
desires
generate fresh karma, the question may arise in the mind: "How can this
constantly
renewing bond be put an end to ? How can the soul attain his
liberation?"
Thus we come to the "ending of karma," and have to investigate how
this
may be.
The
binding element in karma is the first thing to be clearly grasped. The
outward
going energy of the soul attaches itself to some object, and the soul is
drawn
back by this tie to the place where that attachment may be realised by
union
with the object of desire, so long as the soul attaches himself to any
object,
he must be drawn to the place where that object can be enjoyed. Good
karma
binds the soul as much as does bad, for any desire, whether for objects
here
or in Devachan, must draw the soul to the place of gratification.
Action
is prompted by desire, an act is done not for the sake of doing the act,
but
for the sake of obtaining by the act something that is desired, of acquiring
its
results, or, as it is technically called, of enjoying its fruit. Men work,
not
because they want to dig, or build, or weave, but because they want the
fruits
of digging, building, and weaving, in the shape of money or of goods. A
barrister
pleads, not because he wants to set forth the dry details of a case,
but
because he wants wealth and fame, and rank.Men around us are labouring for
something,
and the spur to their activity lies in the fruit it brings them and
not
in the labour. Desire for the fruit of action moves them to activity, and
enjoyment
of that fruit rewards their exertions.
Desire
is, then , the binding element in karma, and when the soul no longer
desires
any object in earth or in heaven, his tie to the wheel of reincarnation
that
turns in the three worlds is broken. Action itself has no power to hold the
soul,
for with the completion of the action it slips into the past. But the
ever-renewed
desire for fruit constantly spurs the soul into fresh activities,
and
thus new chains are continually being forged.
Nor
should we feel any regret when we see men constantly driven to action by the
whip
of desire, for desire overcomes sloth, laziness, inertia – (the student
will
remember that these show the dominance of the tamasic guna, and while it is
dominant
men do not emerge from the lowest of the three stages of their
evolution)
– and prompts men to the activity that yields them experience. Note
the
savage, idly dozing on the grass; he is moved to activity by hunger, the
desire
for food,, and is driven to exert patience, skill, and endurance to
gratify
his desire. Thus he develops mental qualities, but when his hunger is
satisfied
he sinks again into a dozing animal. How entirely have mental
qualities
been evolved by the promptings of desire, and how useful have proved
desires
for fame, for posthumous renown. Until man is approaching divinity he
needs
the urgings of desires, and the desires simply grow purer and less selfish
as
he climbs upwards. But none the less desires bind him to rebirth, and if he
would
be free he must destroy them.
When
a man begins to long for liberation, he is taught to practise
"renunciation
of
the fruits of action"; that is, he gradually eradicates in himself the
wish
to
possess any object; he at first voluntarily and deliberately denies himself
the
object, and thus habituates himself to do contentedly without it; after a
time
he no longer misses it, and he finds the desire for it is disappearing from
his
mind. At this stage he is very careful not to neglect any work which is duty
because
he has become indifferent to the results it brings to him, and he trains
himself
in discharging every duty with earnest attention, while remaining
entirely
indifferent to the fruits it brings forth.When he attains perfection in
this,
and neither desires nor dislikes any object, he ceases to generate karma;
ceasing
to ask anything from the earth or from Devachan, he is not drawn to
either;
he wants nothing that either can give him, and all links between himself
and
them are broken off. This is the ceasing of individual karma, so far as the
generation
of new karma is concerned.
But
the soul has to get rid of old chains as well as to cease from the forging
of
new, and these old chains must be either allowed to wear out gradually or
must
be broken deliberately. For this breaking, knowledge is necessary, a
knowledge
which can look back into the past, and see the causes there set going,
causes
which are working out their effects in the present.
Let
us suppose that a person, thus looking backward over his past lives, sees
certain
causes which will bring about an event which is still in the future; let
us
suppose further that these causes are thoughts of hatred for an injury
inflicted
on himself, and that they will cause suffering a year hence to the
wrong-doer;
such a person can introduce a new cause to intermingle with the
causes
working from the past, and he may counteract them with strong thoughts of
love
and goodwill that will exhaust them, and will thus prevent their bringing
about
the otherwise inevitable event, which would, in its turn, have generated
new
karmic trouble. Thus he may neutralise forces coming out of the past by
sending
against them forces equal and opposite, and may in this way "burn up his
karma
by knowledge." In similar fashion he may bring to an end karma generated
in
his present life that would normally work out in future lives.
Again,
he may be hampered by liabilities contracted to other souls in the past,
wrongs
he has done to them, duties he owes them. By the use of his knowledge he
can
find those souls, whether in this world or in either of the other two, and
seek
opportunities of serving them. There may a soul incarnated during his own
life-period
to whom he owes some karmic debt; he may seek out that soul and pay
his
debt, thus setting himself free from a tie which, left to the course of
events,
would have necessitated his own reincarnation, or would have hampered
him
in a future life. Strange and puzzling lines of action adopted by occultists
have
sometimes this explanation – the man of knowledge enters into close
relations
with some person who is considered by the ignorant bystanders and
critics
to be quite outside the companionships that are fitting for him; but
that
occultist is quietly working out a karmic obligation which would otherwise
hamper
and retard his progress.
Those
who do not possess knowledge enough to review their past lives may yet
exhaust
many causes that they have set going in the present life; they can
carefully
go over all that they can remember, and note where they have wronged
any
or where any has wronged them, exhausting the first cases by pouring out
thoughts
of love and service, and performing acts of service to the injured
person,
where possible on the physical plane also; and in the second cases
sending
forth thoughts of pardon and good will. Thus they diminish their karmic
liabilities
and bring near the day of liberation.
Unconsciously,
pious people who obey the precept of all great Teachers of
religion
to return good for evil are exhausting karma generated in the present
that
would otherwise work out in the future. No one can weave with them a bond
of
hatred if they refuse to contribute any stands of hatred to the weaving, and
persistently
neutralise every force of hatred with one of love. Let a soul
radiate
in every direction love and compassion, and thoughts of hatred can find
nothing
to which they can attach themselves.
"The
Prince of this world cometh and hath nothing in me." All great Teachers
knew
the law and based on it Their precepts, and those who through reverence and
devotion
to Them obey Their directions profit under the law, although they know
nothing
of the details of its working. An ignorant man who carries out
faithfully
the instructions given him by a scientist can obtain results by his
working
with the laws of Nature, despite his ignorance of them, and the same
principle
holds good in worlds beyond the physical. Many who have not time to
study,
and perforce accept on the authority of experts rules which guide their
daily
conduct in life, may thus unconsciously be discharging their karmic
liabilities.
In
countries where reincarnation and karma are taken for granted by every
peasant
and labourer, the belief spreads a certain quiet acceptance of
inevitable
troubles that conduces much to the calm and contentment of ordinary
life.
A man overwhelmed by misfortunes rails neither against God nor against his
neighbours,
but regards his troubles as the results of his own past mistakes and
ill-doings.
He
accepts them resignedly and makes the best of them, and thus escapes much of
the
worry and anxiety with which those who know not the law aggravate troubles
already
sufficiently heavy. He realises that his future lives depend on his own
exertions,
and that the law which brings him pain will bring him just joy as
inevitably
if he sows the seed of good. Hence a certain patience and a
philosophic
view of life, tending directly to social stability and to general
contentment.
The
poor and ignorant do not study profound and detailed metaphysics, but they
grasp
thoroughly these simple principles – that every man is reborn on earth
time
after time, and that each successive life is moulded by those that precede
it.
To them rebirth is as sure and as inevitable as the rising and setting of
the
sun; it is part of the course of nature, against which it is idle to repine
or
to rebel.
When
Theosophy has
restored these ancient truths to their rightful place in
western
thought, they will gradually work their way among all classes of society
in
Christendom, spreading understanding of the nature of life and acceptance of
the
result of the past. Then too will vanish the restless discontent which
arises
chiefly from the impatient and hopeless feeling that life is
unintelligible,
unjust, and unmanageable, and it will be replaced by the quiet
strength
and patience which come from an illumined intellect and a knowledge of
the
law, and which characterise the reasoned and balanced activity of those who
feel
that they are building for eternity.
THE
LAW OF SACRIFICE
The
study of the Law of Sacrifice follows naturally on the study of the Law of
Karma,
and the understanding of the former, it was once remarked by a Master, is
as
necessary for the world as the understanding of the latter. By an act of
Self-sacrifice
the LOGOS became manifest for the emanation of the universe, by
sacrifice
the universe is maintained, and by sacrifice man reaches perfection.
(The
Hindu will remember the opening words of the Brihadaranyakopanishad, that
the
dawn is in sacrifice; the Zoroastrian will recall how Ahura Mazda came forth
from
an act of sacrifice; the Christian will think of the Lamb – the symbol of
the
LOGOS – slain from the foundation of the world.) Hence every religion that
springs
from Ancient Wisdom has sacrifice as a central teaching, and some of the
profoundest
truths of occultism are rooted in the law of sacrifice.
An
attempt to grasp, however feebly, the nature of the sacrifice of the LOGOS
may
prevent us from falling into the very general mistake that sacrifice is an
essentially
painful thing; whereas the very essence of sacrifice is a voluntary
and
glad pouring forth of life that others may share in it; and pain only arises
when
there is discord in the nature of the sacrificer, between the higher whose
joy
is in giving and the lower whose satisfaction lies in grasping and
holding.It
is that discord alone that introduces the element of pain, and in the
supreme
Perfection, in the LOGOS, no discord could arise; the One is the perfect
chord
of Being, of infinite melodious concords, all tuned to a single note, in
which
Life and Wisdom and Bliss are blended into one keynote of Existence.
The
sacrifice of the LOGOS lay in His voluntarily circumscribing His infinite
life
in order that He might manifest. Symbolically, in the infinite ocean of
light,
with centre everywhere and with circumference nowhere, there arises a
full-orbed
sphere of living light, a LOGOS, and the surface of that sphere is
His
will to limit Himself that He may become manifest, His veil ( This is the
Self-limiting
power of the LOGOS, His Maya, the limiting principle by which all
forms
are brought forth. His Life appears as "Spirit," His Maya as
"Matter," and
these
are never disjoined during manifestation.)in which He incloses Himself
that
within it a universe may take form.
That
for which the sacrifice is made is not yet in existence; its future being
lies
in the "thought" of the LOGOS alone; to him it owes its conception
and will
own
its manifold life. Diversity could not arise in the "partless
Brahman" save
for
this voluntary sacrifice of Deity taking on Himself form in order to emanate
myriad
forms, each dowered with a spark of His life and therefore with the power
evolving
into His image. "The primal sacrifice that causes the birth of beings
is
named action (karma)," it is said (Bhagavad Gîtâ, viii,3.), and this
coming
forth
into activity from the bliss of perfect repose of self-existence has ever
been
recognised as the sacrifice of the LOGOS.
That
sacrifice continues throughout the term of the universe, for the life of
the
LOGOS is the sole support of every separated " life " and He limits
His life
in
each of the myriad forms to which He gives birth, bearing all the restraints
and
limitations implied in each form. From any one of these He could burst forth
at
any moment, the infinite Lord, filling the universe with His glory; but only
by
sublime patience and slow and gradual expansion can each form be led upward
until
it becomes a self-dependent centre of boundless power like Himself.
Therefore
does He cabin Himself in forms, and bear all imperfection till
perfection
is attained, and His creature is like unto Himself and one with Him,
but
with its own thread of memory. Thus this pouring out of His life into forms
is
part of the original sacrifice, and has in it the bliss of the eternal Father
sending
forth His offspring as separated lives, that each may evolve an identity
that
shall never perish, and yield its own note blended with all others to swell
the
eternal song of bliss, intelligence and life.
This
marks the essential nature of sacrifice. Whatever other elements may become
mixed
with the central idea; it is the voluntary pouring out of life that others
may
partake of it, to bring others into life and to sustain them in it till they
become
self-dependent, and this is but one expression of divine joy. There is
always
joy in the exercise of activity which is the expression of the power of
the
actor; the bird takes joy in the outpouring of song, and quivers with the
mere
rapture of singing; the painter rejoices in the creation of his genius, in
the
putting into form of his idea; the essential activity of the divine life
must
lie in giving, for there is nothing higher than itself from which it can
receive;
if it is to be active at all – and manifested life is active motion –
it
must pour itself out.
Hence
the sign of the spirit is giving, for spirit is the active divine life in
every
form.
But
the essential activity of matter, on the other hand, lies in receiving; by
receiving
life-impulses it is organised into forms; by receiving them these are
maintained;
on their withdrawal they fall to pieces. All its activity is of this
nature
of receiving, and only by receiving can it endure as a form. Therefore it
is
always grasping, clinging, seeking to hold for its own; the persistence of
the
form depends on its grasping and retentive power, and it will therefore seek
to
draw into itself all it can, and will grudge every fraction with which it
parts.
Its joy will be in seizing and holding; to it giving is like courting
death.
It
is very easy from this standpoint, to see how the notion arose that sacrifice
was
suffering. While the divine life found its delight in exercising its
activity
of giving, and even when embodied in form cared not if the form
perished
by the giving, knowing it to be only its passing expression and the
means
of its separated growth; the form which felt its life-forces pouring away
from
it cried out in anguish, and sought to exercise its activity in holding,
thus
resisting the outward flow. The sacrifice diminished the life-energies the
form
claimed as its own; or even entirely drained them away, leaving the form to
perish.
In
the lower world of form this was the only aspect of sacrifice cognisable, and
the
form found itself driven to slaughter, and cried out in fear and agony. What
wonder
that men, blinded by form, identified sacrifice with the agonising form
instead
of with the free life that gave itself, crying gladly:"Lo! I come to do
thy
will, O God; I am content to do it." What wonder that men – conscious of a
higher
and a lower nature, and oft identifying their self-consciousness more
with
the lower than with the higher – felt the struggle of the lower nature, the
form,
as their own struggles, and felt that they were accepting suffering in
resignation
to a higher will, and regarded sacrifice as that devout and resigned
acceptance
of pain.
Not
until man identifies himself with the life instead of with the form can the
element
of pain in sacrifice be gotten rid of. In a perfectly harmonised entity,
pain
cannot be, for the form is then the perfect vehicle of the life, receiving
or
surrendering with ready accord. With the ceasing of struggle comes the
ceasing
of pain. For suffering arises from jar, from friction, from antagonistic
movements,
and where the whole nature works in perfect harmony the conditions
that
give rise to suffering are not present.
The
law of sacrifice being thus the law of life - evolution in the universe, we
find
every step in the ladder is accomplished by sacrifice – the life pouring
itself
out to take birth in a higher form, while the form that contained it
perishes.
Those who look only at the perishing forms see Nature as a vast
charnel
house; while those who see the deathless soul escaping to take new and
higher
form hear ever the joyous song of birth from the upward springing life.
The
Monad in the mineral kingdom evolves by the breaking up of its forms for the
production
and support of plants. Minerals are disintegrated that plant-forms
may
be built out of their materials; the plant draws from the soil its nutritive
constituents,
breaks them up, and incorporates them into its own substance. The
mineral
forms perish that the plant forms may grow, and this law of sacrifice
stamped
on the mineral kingdom is the law of evolution of life and form. The
life
passes onward and the Monad evolves to produce the vegetable kingdom, the
perishing
of the lower form being the condition for the appearing and the
support
of the higher.
The
story is repeated in the vegetable kingdom, for its forms in turn are
sacrificed
in order that animal forms may be produced and may grow; on every
side
grasses, grains, trees perish for the sustenance of animal bodies; their
tissues
are disintegrated that the materials comprising them may be assimilated
by
the animal and build up its body. Again the law of sacrifice is stamped on
the
world, this time on the vegetable kingdom; its life evolves while its forms
perish;
the Monad evolves to produce the animal kingdom, and the vegetable is
offered
up that the animal forms may be brought forth and maintained.
So
far the idea of pain has scarcely connected itself with that of sacrifice,
for,
as we have seen in the course of our studies, the astral bodies of plants
are
not sufficiently organised to give rise to any acute sensations either of
pleasure
or of pain. But as we consider the law of sacrifice in its working in
the
animal kingdom, we cannot avoid the recognition of the pain there involved
in
the breaking up of forms. It is true that the amount of pain caused by the
preying
of one animal upon another in "the state of nature " is comparatively
trivial
in each case, but still some pain occurs.
It
is also true that man, in the part he has played in helping to evolve
animals,
has much aggravated the amount of pain, and has strengthened instead of
diminishing
the predatory instincts of carnivorous animals; still, he did not
implant
those instincts, though he took advantage of them for his own purposes,
and
innumerable varieties of animals, with the evolution of which man has had
directly
nothing to do, prey upon each other, the forms being sacrificed to the
support
of other forms, as in the mineral and vegetable kingdoms.
The
struggle for existence went on long before man appeared on the scene, and
accelerated
the evolution alike of life and of forms, while the pains
accompanying
the destruction of forms began the long task of impressing on the
evolving
Monad the transitory nature of all forms, and the difference between
the
forms that perished and the life that persisted .
The
lower nature of man was evolved under the same law of sacrifice as ruled in
the
lower kingdoms. But the outpouring of divine Life which gave the human Monad
came
a change in the way in which the law of sacrifice worked as the law of
life.
In man was to be developed the will, the self-moving, self-initiated
energy,
and the compulsion which forced the lower kingdoms along the path of
evolution
could not therefore be employed in his case, without paralysing the
growth
of this new and essential power.
No
mineral, no plant, no animal was asked to accept the law of sacrifice as a
voluntarily
chosen law of life. It was imposed upon them from without, and it
forced
their growth by a necessity from which they could not escape. Man was to
have
the freedom of choice necessary for the growth of a discriminative and
self-conscious
intelligence, and the question arose: "How can this creature be
left
free to choose, and yet learn to choose to follow the law of sacrifice,
while
yet he is a sensitive organism, shrinking from pain, and pain is
inevitable
in the breaking up of sentient forms?"
Doubtless
eons of experience, studied by a creature becoming ever more
intelligent,
might have finally led man to discover that the law of sacrifice is
the
fundamental law of life; but in this, as in so much else, he was not left to
his
own unassisted efforts. Divine Teachers were there at the side of man in his
infancy,
and they authoritatively proclaimed the law of sacrifice, and
incorporated
it in a most elementary form in the religions by which They trained
the
dawning intelligence of man.
It
would have been useless to have suddenly demanded from these child-souls that
they
should surrender without return what seemed to them to be the most
desirable
objects, the objects on the possession of which their life in form
depended.
They must be led along a path which would lead gradually to the
heights
of voluntary self-sacrifice. To this end they were first taught that
they
were not isolated units, but were parts of a larger whole, and that their
lives
were linked to other lives both above and below them.
Their
physical lives were supported by lower lives, by the earth; by plants,
they
consumed these, and in thus doing they contracted a debt which they were
bound
to pay, Living on the sacrificed lives of others, they must sacrifice in
turn
something which should support other lives, they must nourish even as they
were
nourished, taking the fruits produced by the activity of the astral
entities
that guide physical Nature, they must recruit the expended forces by
suitable
offerings.
Hence
have arisen all the sacrifices to these forces – as science calls them –
to
these intelligences guiding physical order, as religions have always taught.
As
fire quickly disintegrated the dense physical, it quickly restored the
etheric
particles of the burnt offerings to the ethers; thus the astral
particles
were easily set free to be assimilated by the astral entities
concerned
with the fertility of the earth and the growth of plants. Thus the
wheel
of production was kept turning, and man learned that he was constantly
incurring
debts to Nature which he must as constantly discharge.
Thus
the sense of obligation was implanted and nurtured in his mind, and the
duty
that he owed to the whole, to the nourishing mother Nature, became
impressed
on his thought. It is true that this sense of obligation was closely
connected
with the idea that its discharge was necessary for his own welfare,
and
that the wish to continue to prosper moved him to the payment of his debt.
He
was but a child-soul, learning his first lessons, and this lesson of the
interdependence
of lives, of the life of each depending on the sacrifice of
others,
was of vital importance to his growth. Not yet could he feel the divine
joy
of giving; the reluctance of the form to surrender aught that nourished it
had
first to be overcome, and sacrifice became identified with this surrender of
something
valued, a surrender made from a sense of obligation and the desire to
continue
prosperous.
The
next lesson removed the reward of sacrifice to a region beyond the physical
world.
First, by a sacrifice of material goods, material welfare was to be
secured.
Then the sacrifice of material goods was to bring enjoyment in heaven,
on
the other side of death. The reward of the sacrificer was of a higher kind,
and
he learned that the relatively permanent might be secured by the sacrifice
of
the relatively transient – a lesson that was important as leading to
discriminative
knowledge.The clinging of the form to physical objects was
exchanged
for a clinging to heavenly joys. In all exoteric religions we find
this
educative process resorted to by the Wise Ones – too wise to expect
child-souls
the virtue of unrewarded heroism, and content, with a sublime
patience,
to coax their wayward charges slowly along a pathway that was a thorny
and
a stony one to the lower nature.
Gradually
men were induced to subjugate the body, to overcome its sloth by the
regular
daily performance of religious rites, often burdensome in their nature,
and
to regulate its activities by directing them into useful channels; they were
trained
to conquer the form and to hold it in subjection to the life, and to
accustom
the body to yield itself to works of goodness and charity in obedience
to
the demands of the mind, even while that mind was chiefly stimulated by a
desire
to enjoy reward in heaven.
We
can see among the Hindus, the Persians, the Chinese, how men were taught to
recognise
their manifold obligations; to make the body yield dutiful sacrifice
of
obedience and reverence to ancestors, to parents, to elders; to bestow
charity
with courtesy; and to show kindness to all. Slowly men were helped to
evolve
both heroism and self-sacrifice to a high degree, as witness the martyrs
who
joyfully flung their bodies to torture and death rather than deny their
faith
or be false to their creed. They looked indeed for a "crown of glory"
in
heaven
as a recompense for the sacrifice of the physical form, but it was much
to
have overcome the clinging to the physical form, and to have made the
invisible
world so real that it outweighed the visible.
The
next step was achieved when the sense of duty was definitely established;
when
the sacrifice of the lower to the higher was seen to be "right,"
apart from
all
question of a reward to be received in another world; when the obligation
owed
by the part to the whole was recognised, and the yielding of service by the
form
that existed by the service of others was felt to be justly due without any
claim
to wages being established thereby.
Then
man began to perceive the law of sacrifice as the law of life, and
voluntarily
to associate himself with it; and he began to learn to disjoin
himself
in idea from the form he dwelt in and to identify himself with the
evolving
life. This gradually led him to feel a certain indifference to all the
activities
of form, save as they consisted in "duties that ought to be done,"
and
to regard all of them as mere channels for the life-activities that were due
to
the world, and not as activities performed by him with any desire for their
results.
Thus he reached the point already noted, when karma attracting him to
the
three worlds ceased to be generated, and he turned the wheel of existence
because
it ought to be turned, and not because its revolution brought any
desirable
object to himself.
The
full recognition of the law of sacrifice, however, lifts man beyond the
mental
plane – whereon duty is recognised as duty, as "what ought to be done
because
it is owed" – to that higher plane of Buddhi where all selves are felt
as
one, and where all activities are poured out for the use of all, and not for
the
gain of a separated self. Only on that plane is the law of sacrifice felt as
a
joyful privilege, instead of only recognised intellectually as true and just.
On
the buddhic plane man clearly sees that life is one, that it streams out
perpetually
as the free outpouring of the love of the LOGOS, that life holding
itself
separate is a poor and a mean thing at best, and an ungrateful one to
boot.
There the whole heart rushes upwards to the LOGOS in one strong surge of
love
and worship, and gives itself in joyfullest self-surrender to be a channel
of
His life and love to the world. To be a carrier of His light, a messenger of
His
compassion, a worker in His realm – that appears as the only life worth
living;
to hasten evolution, to serve the Good Law, to lift part of the heavy
burden
of the world – that seems to be the very gladness of the Lord Himself.
From
this plane only can a man act as one of the Saviours of the world, because
on
it he is one with the selves of all. Identified with humanity where it is
one,
his strength, his love, his life can flow downwards into any or into every
separated
self.
He
has become a spiritual force, and the available spiritual energy of the
world-system
is increased by pouring into it of his life. The forces he used to
expend
on the physical , astral, and mental planes, seeking things for his
separated
self, are now all gathered up in one act of sacrifice, and, transmuted
thereby
into spiritual energy, they pour down upon the world as spiritual life.
This
transmutation is wrought by the motive which determines the plane on which
the
energy is set free.
If
a man’s motive be the gain of physical objects, the energy liberated works
only
on the physical plane; if he desire astral objects, he liberates energy on
the
astral plane; if he seek mental joys, his energy functions on the mental
plane;
but if he sacrifice himself to be a channel of the LOGOS, he liberates
energy
on the spiritual plane, and it works everywhere with the potency and
keenness
of a spiritual force. For such a man, action and inaction are the same;
for
he does everything while doing nothing, he does nothing while doing
everything.
For
him, high and low, great and small are the same; he fills any place that
needs
filling, and the LOGOS is alike in every place and in every action. He can
flow
into any form, he can work along any line, he knows not any longer choice
or
difference; his life by sacrifice has been made one with the life of the
LOGOS
– he sees God in everything and everything in God. How then can place or
form
make to him any difference? He no longer identifies himself with form, but
is
self-conscious Life. "Having nothing, he possesseth all things "
asking for
nothing,
everything flows into him. His life is bliss, for he is one with his
Lord,
who is Beatitude; and, using form for service without attachment to it,
"he
has put and end to pain."
Those
who grasp something of the wonderful possibilities which open out before
us
as we voluntarily associate ourselves with the law of sacrifice will wish to
begin
that voluntary association long ere they can rise to the heights just
dimly
sketched. Like other deep spiritual truths, it is eminently practical in
its
application to daily life, and none who feel its beauty need to hesitate to
begin
to work with it. When a man resolves to begin the practice of sacrifice,
he
will train himself to open every day with an act of sacrifice, the offering
of
himself, ere the day’s work begins, to Him to whom he gives his life; his
first
waking thought will be this dedication of all his power to his Lord.
Then
each thought, each word, each action in daily life will be done as a
sacrifice
– not for its fruit, not even as duty, but as the way in which, at the
moment,
his Lord can be served. All that comes will be accepted as the
expression
of His will; joys, troubles, anxieties, successes, failures, all to
him
are welcome as marking out his path of service; he will take each happily as
it
comes and offer it as a sacrifice; he will loose each happily as it goes,
since
its going shows that his Lord has no longer need for it.
Any
powers he has he gladly uses for service; when they fail him, he takes their
failure
with happy equanimity; since they are no longer available he cannot give
them.
Even suffering that springs from past causes not yet exhausted can be
changed
into a voluntary sacrifice by welcoming it; taking possession of it by
willing
it, a man may offer it as a gift, changing it by this motive into a
spiritual
force. Every human life offers countless opportunities for this
practice
of the law of sacrifice, and every human life becomes a power as these
opportunities
are seized and utilised.
Without
any expansion of his waking consciousness, a man may thus become a
worker
on the spiritual planes, liberating energy there which pours down into
the
lower worlds. His self-surrender here in the lower consciousness, imprisoned
as
it is in the body, calls out responsive thrills of life from the buddhic
aspect
of the Monad which is his true Self, and hastens the time when that Monad
shall
become the spiritual Ego, self-moved and ruling all his vehicles, using
each
of them at will as needed for the work that is to be done.
In
no way can progress be made so rapidly, and the manifestation of all the
powers
latent in the Monad be brought about so quickly, as by the understanding
and
the practice of the law of sacrifice. Therefore it was called by a Master,
"The
Law of evolution for man." It has indeed profounder and more mystic
aspects
than
any touched on here, but these will unveil themselves without words to the
patient
and loving heart whose life is all a sacrificial offering. There are
things
that are heard only in the stillness; there are teachings that can be
uttered
only by "The Voice of the Silence." Among these are the deeper truths
rooted
in the law of sacrifice.
MAN’S
ASCENT
So
stupendous is the ascent up which some men have climbed, and some are
climbing,
that when we scan it by an effort of the imagination we are apt to
recoil,
wearied in thought by the mere idea of that long journey. From the
embryonic
soul of the lowest savage to the liberated and triumphant perfected
spiritual
soul of the divine man – it seems scarcely credible that the one can
contain
in it all that is expressed in the other, and that the difference is but
a
difference in evolution, that one is only at the beginning and the other at
the
end of man’s ascent.
Below
the one stretch the long ranks of the sub-human – the animals, vegetables,
minerals,
elemental essences; above the other stretch the infinite gradations of
the
superhuman – the Chohans, Manus, Buddhas, Builders, Lipikas; who may name or
number
the hosts of the mighty Ones? Looked at thus, as a stage in a yet vaster
life,
the many steps within the human kingdom shrink into a narrower compass,
and
man’s ascent is seen as comprising but one grade in evolution in the linked
lives
that stretch from the elemental essence onwards to the manifested God.
We
have traced man’s ascent from the appearance of the embryonic soul to the
state
of the spiritually advanced, through the stages of evolving consciousness
from
the life of sensation to the life of thought. We have seen him retread the
cycle
of birth and death in the three worlds, each world yielding him its
harvest
and offering him opportunities for progress. We are now in a position to
follow
him into the final stages of his human evolution, stages that lie in the
future
for the vast bulk of our humanity, but that have already been trodden by
its
eldest children, and that re being trodden by a slender number of men and
women
in our own day.
These
stages have been classified under two headings – the first are spoken of
as
constituting "the probationary Path," while the later ones are
included in
"the
Path proper" or " the Path of discipleship." We will take them
in their
natural
order.
As
a man’s intellectual, moral, and spiritual nature develops, he becomes more
and
more conscious of the purpose of human life, and more and more eager to
accomplish
that purpose in his own person. Repeated longings for earthly joys,
followed
by full possession and by subsequent weariness, have gradually taught
him
the transient and unsatisfactory nature of earth’s best gifts; so often has
he
striven for, gained, employed, been satiated, and finally nauseated, that he
turns
away discontented from all that earth can offer. "What doth it
profit?"
sighs
the wearied soul: "All is vanity and vexation. Hundreds, yea, thousands of
times
have I possessed, and finally have found disappointment even in
possession."
"These
joys are illusions, as bubbles on a stream, fairy-coloured, rainbow-hued,
but
bursting at a touch. I am athirst for realities; I have had enough of
shadows;
I pant for the eternal and the true, for freedom from the limitations
that
hem me in, that keep me prisoner amid these changing shows."
This
first cry of the soul for liberation is the result of the realisation that,
were
this earth all that poets have dreamed it, were every evil swept away,
every
sorrow put an end to , every joy intensified, every beauty enhanced, were
everything
raised to its point of perfection, he would still be aweary of it,
would
turn from it void of desire. It has become to him a prison, and, let it be
decorated
as it may, he pants for the free and limitless air beyond its
inclosing
walls.
Nor
is heaven more attractive to him than earth; of that too he is aweary; its
joys
have lost their attractiveness, even its intellectual and emotional
delights
no longer satisfy. They also "come and go, impermanent" like the
contacts
of the senses; they are limited, transient, unsatisfying. He is tired
of
the changing; from very weariness he cries out for liberty.
Sometimes
this realisation of the worthlessness of earth and heaven is at first
but
a flash in consciousness, and the external worlds reassert their empire and
the
glamour of their illusive joys again laps the soul into content. Some lives
even
may pass, full of noble work and unselfish achievement, of pure thoughts
and
lofty deeds, ere this realisation of the emptiness of all that is phenomenal
becomes
the permanent attitude of the soul.
But
sooner or later the soul once and for ever breaks with earth and heaven as
incompetent
to satisfy his needs, and this definite turning away from the
transitory,
this definite will to reach the eternal, is the gateway to the
probationary
Path. The soul steps off the highway of evolution to breast the
steeper
climb up the mountain side, resolute to escape from the bondage of
earthly
and heavenly lives, and to reach the freedom of the upper air.
The
work which has to be accomplished by the man who enters on the probationary
Path
is entirely mental and moral; he has to bring himself up to the point at
which
he will fit to "meet his Master face to face": but he very words
"his
Master"
need explanation. There are certain great Beings belonging to our race
who
have completed Their human evolution, and to whom allusion has already been
made
as constituting a Brotherhood, and as guiding and forwarding the
development
of the race.
These
Great Ones, the Masters, voluntarily incarnate in human bodies on order to
form
the connecting link between human and superhuman beings, and They permit
those
who fulfil certain conditions to become Their disciples, with the object
of
hastening their evolution and thus qualifying themselves to enter the great
Brotherhood,
and to assist in its glorious and beneficent work for man.
The
Masters ever watch the race, and mark any who by the practice of virtue, by
unselfish
labour for human good, by intellectual effort turned to the service of
man,
by sincere devotion, piety, and purity, draw ahead of the mass of their
fellows,
and render themselves capable of receiving spiritual assistance beyond
that
shed down on mankind as a whole. If an individual is to receive special
help
he must show special receptivity.
For
the Masters are the distributors of the spiritual energies that help on
human
evolution, and the use of these for the swifter growth of a single soul is
only
permitted when that soul shows a capacity for rapid progress and can thus
be
quickly fitted to become a helper of the race, returning to it the aid that
had
been afforded to himself. When a man, by his own efforts, utilising to the
full
all the general help coming to him through religion and philosophy, has
struggled
onwards to the front of the advancing human wave and when he shows a
loving,
selfless, helpful nature, then he becomes a special object of attention
to
the watchful Guardians of the race, and opportunities are put in his way to
test
his strength and call forth his intuition.In proportion as he successfully
uses
these, he is yet further helped, and glimpses are afforded to him of the
true
life, until the unsatisfactory and unreal nature of mundane existence
presses
more and more on the soul, with the result already mentioned – the
weariness
which makes him long for freedom and brings him to the gateway of the
probationary
Path.
His
entrance on his Path places him in the position of a disciple or chelâ, on
probation,
and some one Master takes him under His care, recognising him as a
man
who has stepped out of the highway of evolution, and seeks the Teacher who
shall
guide his steps along the steep and narrow path which leads to liberation.
That
Teacher is awaiting him at the very entrance of the Path, and even though
the
neophyte knows not his Teacher, his Teacher knows him, sees his efforts,
directs
his steps, leads him into the conditions that best subserve his
progress,
watching over him with the tender solicitude of a mother, and with the
wisdom
born of perfect insight. The road may seem lonely and dark, and the young
disciple
may fancy himself deserted, but a "friend who sticketh closer than a
brother"
is ever at hand, and the help withheld from the senses is given to the
soul.
There
are four definite "qualifications" that the probationary chelâa must
set
himself
to acquire, that are by the wisdom of the great Brotherhood laid down as
the
conditions of full discipleship. They are not asked for in perfection, but
they
must be striven for and partially possessed ere Initiation is permitted.The
first
of these is the discrimination between the real and the unreal which has
been
already dawning on the mind of the pupil, and which drew him to the Path on
which
he is now entered; the distinctions grows clear and sharply defined in his
mind,
and gradually frees him to a great extent from the fetters which bind him,
for
the second qualification, indifference to external things, comes naturally
in
the wake of discrimination, from the clear perception of their worthlessness.
He
learns that the weariness which took all the savour out of life was due to
the
disappointments constantly arising from his search for satisfaction in the
unreal,
when only the real can content the soul; that all forms are unreal and
without
stability, changing ever under the impulses of life, and that nothing is
real
but the one Life that we seek for and love unconsciously under its many
veils.
This discrimination is much stimulated by the rapidly changing
circumstances
into which a disciple is generally thrown, with the view of
pressing
on him strongly the instability of all external things.
The
lives of a disciple are generally lives of storm and stress, in order that
the
qualities which are normally evolved in a long succession of lives in the
three
worlds may in him be forced into swift growth and quickly brought to
perfection.
As he alternates rapidly from joy to sorrow, from peace to storm,
from
rest to toil, he learns to see in the changes the unreal forms, and to feel
through
all a steady unchanging life. He grows indifferent to the presence or
the
absence or the absence of things that thus come and go, and more and more he
fixes
his gaze on the changeless reality that is ever present.
While
he is thus gaining in insight and stability he works also at the
development
of the third qualification – the six mental attributes that are
demanded
from him ere he may enter on the Path itself. He need not possess them
all
perfectly, but he must have them all partially present at least ere he will
be
permitted to pass onward.
First
he must gain control over his thoughts, the progeny of the restless,
unruly
mind, hard to curb as the wind. (Bhagavad Gitâ, vi. 34). Steady, daily
practice
in meditation, in concentration, had begun to reduce this mental rebel
to
order ere he entered on the probationary Path, and the disciple now works
with
concentrated energy to complete the task, knowing that the great increase
in
thought power that will accompany his rapid growth will prove a danger both
to
others and to himself unless the developing force be thoroughly under his
control.
Better
give a child dynamite as a plaything, than place the creative powers of
thought
in the hands of the selfish and ambitious. Secondly, the young chela
must
add outward self-control to inner, and must rule his speech and his actions
as
rigidly as he rules his thoughts. As the mind obeys the soul, so must the
lower
nature obey the mind. The usefulness of the disciple in the outer world
depends
as much on the pure and noble example set by his visible life, as his
usefulness
in the inner world depends on the steadiness and strength of his
thoughts.
Often is a good work marred by carelessness in this lower part of
human
activity, and the aspirant is bidden strive towards an ideal perfect in
every
part, in order that he may not later, when treading the Path, stumble in
his
own walk and cause the enemy to blaspheme.
As
already said, perfection in anything is not demanded at this stage, but the
wise
pupil strives towards perfection, knowing that at his best he is still far
away
from his ideal.
Thirdly,
the candidate for full discipleship seeks to build into himself the
sublime
and far-reaching virtue of tolerance – the quiet acceptance of each man,
each
form of existence, as it is, without demand that it should be something
other
shaped more to his own liking. Beginning to realise that the one Life
takes
on countless limitations, each right in its own place and times, he
accepts
each limited expression of that Life without wishing to transform it
into
something else; he learns to revere the wisdom which planned this world and
which
guides it, and to view with wide-eyed serenity the imperfect parts as they
slowly
work out their partial lives.
The
drunkard, learning his alphabet of the suffering caused by the dominance of
the
lower nature, is doing as usefully in his own stage as is the saint in his,
completing
his last lesson in earth’s school, and no more can justly be demanded
from
either than he is able to perform. One is in the kindergarten stage,
learning
by object-lessons, while the other is graduating, ready to leave his
university;
both are right for their age and their place, and should be helped
and
sympathised with in their place.
This
is one of the lessons of what is known in occultism as "tolerance."
Fourthly
must be developed endurance, the endurance that cheerfully bears all
and
resents nothing, going straight onwards unswervingly to the goal. Nothing
can
come to him but by the Law, and he knows the Law is good. He understands
that
the rocky pathway that leads up the mountain-side straight to the summit
cannot
be as easy to his feet as the well-beaten winding highway.
He
realises that he is paying in a few short lives all the karmic obligations
accumulated
during his past, and that the payments must be correspondingly
heavy.
The very struggle into which he is plunged develop in him the fifth
attribute,
faith – faith in his Master and in himself, a serene strong
confidence
that is unshakeable. He learns to trust in the wisdom, the love, the
power
of his Master, and he is beginning to realise – not only to say he
believes
in – the Divinity within his own heart, able to subdue all things to
Himself.
The last mental requisite, balance, equilibrium, grows up to some
extent
without conscious effort during the striving after the preceding five.
The
very setting of the will to tread the Path is a sign that the higher nature
is
opening out, and that the external world is definitely relegated to a lower
place.
The continuous efforts to lead the life of discipleship disentangle the
soul
from any remaining ties that may knit it to the world of sense, for the
withdrawal
of the soul’s attention from lower objects gradually exhausts the
attractive
power of those objects. They "turn away from an abstemious dweller in
the
body," ( Bhagavad Gitâ, ii, 59.) and soon lose all power to disturb this
balance.
Thus he learns to move amid them undisturbed, neither seeking nor
rejecting
any. He also learns to balance amid mental troubles of every kind,
amid
alternations of mental joy and mental pain, this balance being further
taught
by the swift changes already spoken of through which his life is guided
by
the ever-watchful care of his Master.
These
six mental attributes being in some measure attained, the probationary
chelâa
needs further but the fourth qualification, the deep intense longing for
liberation,
that yearning of the soul towards union with deity that is the
promise
of its own fulfillment. This adds the last touch to his readiness to
enter
into full discipleship, for, once that longing has definitely asserted
itself,
it can never again be eradicated, and the soul that has felt it can
never
again quench his thirst at earthly fountains; their waters will ever taste
flat
and vapid when he sips them, so that he will turn away with ever-deepening
longing
for the true water of life.
At
this stage he is "the man ready for Initiation," ready to definitely
"enter
the
stream" that cuts him off forever from the interests of earthly life save
as
he
can serve his Master in them and help forward the evolution of the race.
Henceforth
his life is not to be the life of separateness; it is to be offered
up
on the altar of humanity, a glad sacrifice of all he is, to be used for the
common
good.
The
student will be glad to have the technical names of these stages in Sanskrit
and
Pâli, so that he may be able to follow them out in more advanced books:
SANSKRIT
(used by Hindus) PALI (used by Buddhists)
1
VIVEKA discrimination between the real and the unreal 1 MANODVÂRAVAJJANA the
opening
of the doors of the mind; a conviction of the impermanence of the
earthly
2
VAIRÂGYA indifference to the unreal, the transitory 2 PARIKAMMA preparation
for
action; indifference to the fruits of action
3
SHATSAMPATTI SHAMA control of thought 3 UPACHÂRO attention or conduct; divided
under
the same headings as in the Hindu
DAMA
control of conduct
UPARATI
tolerance
TITIKSHA
endurance
SHRADDHA
faith
SANADDGBA
balance
4
MUMUKSHA desire for liberation 4 ANULOMA direct order or succession, its
attainment
following on the other three.
The
man is then the ADHIKARI The man is then the GATRABHU
During
the years spent in evolving the four qualifications, the probationary
chelâa
will have been advancing in many other respects. He will have been
receiving
from his Master much teaching, teaching usually imparted during the
deep
sleep of the body; the soul, clad in the well-organised astral body, will
have
become used to it as a vehicle of consciousness, and will have been drawn
to
his Master – to receive instruction and spiritual illumination.
He
will further have been trained in meditation, and this effective practice
outside
the physical body will have quickened and brought into active exercise
many
of the higher powers; during such meditation he will have reached higher
regions
of being, learning more of the life of the mental plane. He will have
been
taught to use his increasing powers in human service, and during many of
the
hours of sleep for the body he will have been working diligently on the
astral
plane, aiding the souls that have passed on to it by death, comforting
the
victims of accidents, teaching any less instructed than himself, and in
countless
ways helping those who needed it, thus in humble fashion aiding the
beneficent
work of the Masters, and being associated with Their sublime
Brotherhood
as a co-labourer in a however modest and lowly degree.
Either
on the probationary Path or later, the chelâa is offered the privilege of
performing
one of those acts of renunciation which mark the swifter ascent of
man.
He is allowed "to renounce Devachan," that is, to resign the glorious
life
in
the heavenly places that awaits him on his liberation from the physical
world,
the life which in his case would mostly be spent in the middle arupa
world
in the company of the Masters, and in all the sublime joys of the purest
wisdom
and love. If he renounce this fruit of his noble and devoted life, the
spiritual
forces that would have been expended in his Devachan are set free for
the
general service of the world, and he himself remains in the astral region to
await
a speedy rebirth upon earth.
His
Master in this case selects and presides over his reincarnation, guiding him
to
take birth amid conditions conducive to his usefulness in the world, suitable
for
his further progress and for the work required at his hands. He has reached
the
stage at which every individual interest is subordinated to the divine work,
and
in which his will is fixed to serve in whatever way may be required of him.
He
therefore, gladly surrenders himself into the hands he trusts, accepting
willingly
and joyfully the place in the world in which he can best render
service,
and perform his share of the glorious work of aiding the evolution of
humanity.
Blessed
is the family into which a child is born tenanted by such a soul, a soul
that
brings with him the benediction of the Master and is ever watched and
guided,
every possible assistance being given him to bring his lower vehicles
quickly
under control. Occasionally, but rarely a chelâ may reincarnate in a
body
that has passed through infancy and extreme youth as the tabernacle of a
less
progressed Ego; when an Ego comes to the earth for a very brief
life-period,
say for some fifteen or twenty years, he will be leaving his body
at
the time of dawning manhood, when it has passed through the time of early
training
and is rapidly becoming an effective vehicle for the soul.
If
such a body be a very good one, and some chelâ be awaiting a suitable
reincarnation,
it will often be watched during its tenancy by the Ego for whom
it
was originally built, with the view of utilising it when he has done with it;
when
the life-period of that Ego is completed, and he passes out of the body
into
Kamaloka on his way to Devachan, his cast-off body will be taken possession
of
by the waiting chelâ, a new tenant will enter the deserted house, and the
apparently
dead body will revive. Such cases are unusual, but are not unknown to
occultists,
and some references to them may be found in occult books.
Whether
the incarnation be normal or abnormal, the progress of the soul, of the
chelâ
himself, continues, and the period already spoken of is reached when he
is
"ready for Initiation"; through that gateway of Initiation he enters,
as a
definitely
accepted chelâ, on the Path. This Path consists of four distinct
stages,
and the entrance into each is guarded by an Initiation. Each Initiation
is
accompanied by an expansion of consciousness which gives what is called
"the
key
to knowledge" belonging to the stage to which it admits, and this key of
knowledge
is also a key of power, for truly is knowledge power in all the realms
of
Nature.
When
the chelâ has entered the Path he becomes what has been called "the
houseless
man," (The Hindus call this stage that of Parivrajaka, the wanderer;
the
Buddhist calls it that of Srotapatti, he who has reached the stream. The
chelâ
is thus designated after his first Initiation and before his second.) for
he
longer looks on earth s this home – he has no abiding-place here, to him all
places
are welcome wherein he can serve his Master.
While
he is on this stage of the Path there are three hindrances to progress,
technically
called "fetters," which he has to get rid of, and now – as he is
rapidly
to perfect himself – it is demanded from him that he shall entirely
eradicate
faults of character, and perform completely the tasks belonging to his
condition.
The three fetters that he must loose from his limbs ere he can pass
the
second Initiation are: the illusion of the personal self, doubt, and
superstition.
The personal self must be felt in consciousness as an illusion,
and
must lose forever its power to impose itself on the soul as a reality.
He
must feel himself one with all, all must live and breathe in him and he in
all.
Doubt must be destroyed, but by knowledge, not by crushing out; he must
know
reincarnation and karma and the existence of the Masters as facts; not
accepting
them as intellectually necessary, but knowing them as facts in Nature
that
he has himself verified, so that no doubt on these heads can ever again
rise
in his mind.
Superstition
is escaped as the man rises into a knowledge of realities, and of
the
proper place of rites and ceremonies in the company of Nature; he learns to
use
every means and to be bound by none. When the chelâ has cast off these
fetters
– sometimes the task occupies several lives, sometimes it is achieved in
part
of a single life – he finds the second Initiation open to him, with its new
"key
of knowledge" and its widened horizon. The chelâ now sees before him a
swiftly
shortening span of compulsory life on earth, for when he has reached
this
stage he must pass through his third and fourth Initiations in his present
life
or in the next. (The chelâ on the second stage of the path is for the Hindu
the
Kutichaka, the man who builds a hut; he has reached a place of peace. For
the
Buddhist he is the Sakridagamin, the man who receives birth but once more.)
In
this stage he has to bring into full working order the inner faculties, those
belonging
to the subtle bodies, for he needs them for his service in the higher
realms
of being. If he has developed them previously, this stage may be a very
brief
one, but he may pass through the gateway of death once more ere he is
ready
to receive his third Initiation, to become "the Swan," the individual
who
soars
into the empyrean, that wondrous Bird of Life whereof so many legends are
related.
( The Hindu calls him the Paramahamsa, beyond the " I "; the Buddhist
names
him the Arhat, the worthy.)
On
this third stage of the Path the chelâ casts off the fourth and fifth
fetters,
those of desire and aversion; he sees the One self in all, and the
outer
veil can no longer blind him, whether it be fair or foul. He looks on all
with
an equal eye; that fair bud of tolerance that he cherished on the
probationary
Path now flowers out into an all-embracing love that wraps
everything
within its tender embrace. He is "the friend of every creature," the
"lover
of all that lives" in a world where all things live.
As
a living embodiment of divine love, he passes swiftly onwards to the fourth
Initiation,
that admits him to the last stage of the Path, where he is "beyond
the
Individual," the worthy , the venerable. ( The Hamsa, he who realises
"I am
THAT,"
in the Hindu terms; the Anagamin, the man who receives birth no more, in
the
Buddhist.)Here he remains at his will, casting off the last fine fetters
that
still bind him with threads however fragile, and keep him back from
liberation.
He throws off all clinging to life in form, and then all longing for
formless
life; these are the chains and he must be chainless; he may move
through
the three worlds, but not a shred of theirs must have power to hold him;
the
splendours of the "formless world" must charm him no more than the
concrete
glories
of the worlds of form.
Then
– mightiest of all achievements – he casts off the last fetter of
separateness,
the "I "ever making faculty –(Ahamkara, generally given as Mana,
pride,
since pride is the subtlest manifestation on the "I" as distinct from
others.)
– which realises itself as apart from others, for he dwells on the
plane
of unity in his waking consciousness, on the buddhic plane where the Self
of
all is known and realised as one. This faculty was born with the soul, is the
essence
of individuality, and it persists till all that is valuable in it is
worked
into the Monad, and it can be dropped on the threshold of liberation,
leaving
its priceless result to the Monad, that sense of individual identity
which
is so pure and fine that it does not mar the consciousness of oneness.
Easily
then drops away anything that could respond to ruffling contacts, and the
chelâ
stands robed in that glorious vesture of unchanging peace that naught can
mar.
And the casting away of that same "I-making" faculty has cleared away
from
the
spiritual vision the last clouds that could dim its piercing insight, and in
the
realisation of unity, ignorance – (Avidya, the first illusion and the last,
that
which makes the separated worlds – the first of the Nidanas – and that
which
drops off when liberation is attained.) – the limitation that gives birth
to
all separateness – falls away, and the man is perfect, is free.
Then
has come the ending of the Path, and the ending of the Path is the
threshold
to Nirvana. Into that marvellous state of consciousness the chelâ has
been
wont to pass out of the body while he has been traversing the final stage
of
the Path; now, when he crosses the threshold, the nirvanic consciousness
becomes
his normal consciousness, for Nirvana is the home of the liberated Self.
(The
Jivanmukta, the liberated life, of the Hindu; the Asekha, he who has no
more
to learn, of the Buddhist.) He has completed man’s ascent, he touches the
limit
of humanity; above him there stretch hosts of mighty Beings, but they are
superhuman;
the crucifixion in flesh is over, the hour of liberation has struck,
and
the triumphant "It is finished!" rings from the conqueror’s lips.
See! – he
has
crossed the threshold, he has vanished into the light nirvanic, another son
of
earth has conquered death.
What
mysteries are veiled by that light supernal we know not; dimly we feel that
the
Supreme Self is found, that lover and Beloved are one. The long search is
over,
the thirst of the heart is quenched forever, he has entered into the joy
of
his Lord.
But
has earth lost her child, is humanity bereft of her triumphant son? Nay! He
has
come forth from the bosom of the light, and He standeth again on the
threshold
of Nirvana, Himself seeming the very embodiment of that light,
glorious
beyond all telling, a manifested Son of God. But now His face is turned
to
earth, His eyes beam with divinest compassion on the wandering sons of men,
His
brethren after the flesh; He cannot leave them comfortless, scattered as
sheep
without a shepherd. Clothed in the majesty of a mighty renunciation,
glorious
with the strength of perfect wisdom and "power of an endless life,"
He
returns
to earth to bless and guide humanity, Master of Wisdom, kingly Teacher,
divine
Man.
Returning
thus to earth, the Master devotes Himself to the service of humanity
with
mightier forces at His command than He wielded while He trod the Path of
discipleship;
He has dedicated Himself to the helping of man, and He bends all
the
sublime powers that He holds to the quickening of the evolution of the
world.
He pays to those who are approaching the Path the debt He contracted in
the
days of His own chelaship, guiding, helping, teaching them as He was guided,
helped,
and taught before.
Such
are the stages of man’s ascent, from the lowest savagery to the divine
manhood.
To such goal is humanity climbing, to such glory shall the race attain.
BUILDING
A COSMOS
It
is not possible, at our present stage of evolution, to do more than roughly
indicate
a few points in the vast outline of the kosmic scheme in which our
globe
plays a part. By " a kosmos " is here meant a system which seems,
from out
standpoint,
to be complete in itself, arising from a single LOGOS, and sustained
by
His Life. Such a system is our solar system, and the physical sun may be
considered
to be the lowest manifestation of the LOGOS when acting as the centre
of
His kosmos; every form is indeed one of His concrete manifestations, but the
sun
is His lowest manifestation as the life-giving, invigorating, all-pervading,
all
controlling, regulative, coordinating, central power.
Says
an occult commentary:
"Surya
(the sun), in its visible reflection, exhibits the first or lowest state
of
the seventh, the highest state of the Universal PRESENCE, the pure of the
pure,
the first manifested Breath of the ever unmanifested SAT (Be-ness). All
the
central physical or objective Suns are in their substance the lowest state
of
the first Principle of the BREATH, (Secret Doctrine; I, 330, Adyar Ed.),
are
in short, the lowest state of the "Physical Body" of the LOGOS."
All
physical forces and energies are but transmutations of the life poured forth
by
the sun, the Lord and Giver of life to his system. Hence in many ancient
religions
the sun stood as the symbol of the Supreme God – the symbol, in truth,
the
least liable to misconstruction by the ignorant. Mr. Sinnett well says:
"The
solar system is indeed an area of Nature including more than any but the
very
highest beings whom our humanity is capable of developing are in position
to
investigate. Theoretically we may feel sure – as we look up into the heavens
at
night – that the whole solar system itself is but a drop in the ocean of the
kosmos,
but that drop is in its turn an ocean from the point of view of the
consciousness
of such half-developed beings within it as ourselves, and we can
only
hope at present to acquire vague and shadowy conceptions of its origin and
constitution.
Shadowy, however, though these may be, they enable us to assign
the
subordinate planetary series, in which our own evolution is carried on, to
its
proper place in the system of which it is a part, or at all events to get a
broad
idea of the relative magnitude of the whole system, of our planetary
chain,
of the world in which we are at present functioning, and of the
respective
periods of evolution in which as human beings we are interested. "
For
in truth we cannot grasp our own position intellectually without some idea –
however
vague it may be – of our relation to the whole; and while some student
are
content to work within their own sphere of duty and to leave the wider
reaches
of life until they are called to function in them, others feel the need
of
a far-reaching scheme in which they have their place, and take an
intellectual
delight in soaring upwards to obtain a bird’s-eye view of the whole
field
of evolution. This need has been recognised and met by the spiritual
Guardians
of humanity in the magnificent delineation of the kosmos from the
standpoint
of the occultist traced by their pupil and messenger, H.P.Blavatsky,
in
The Secret Doctrine, a work that will become ever more and more enlightening
as
students of the Ancient Wisdom themselves explore and master the lower levels
of
our evolving world.
The
appearance of the LOGOS, we are told, is the herald of the birth-hour of our
kosmos.
"When
He is manifest, all is manifested after Him; by His manifestation this All
becomes
manifest." (Mundakopanishad, II, ii, 10).
With
Himself He brings the fruits of a past kosmos – the mighty spiritual
Intelligences
who are to be His co-workers and agents in the universe now to be
built.
Highest of these are "the Seven," often Themselves spoken of as
Logoi,
since
each in His place is the centre of a distinct department in the kosmos, as
the
LOGOS is the centre of the whole. The commentary before quoted says:
The
seven Beings in the Sun are the Seven Holy Ones, Self-born from the inherent
power
in the matrix of Mother-substance …The energy from which they sprang into
conscious
existence in every Sun is what some people call Vishnu, which is the
Breath
of the Absoluteness. We call it the one manifested Life – itself a
reflection
of the Absolute. (Secret Doctrine, I , 331, Adyar ed.)
This
"one manifested Life" is the LOGOS, the manifested God. From this
primary
division
our kosmos takes its sevenfold character, and all subsequent divisions
in
their descending order reproduce this seven-keyed scale. Under each of the
seven
secondary Logoi come the descending hierarchies of Intelligences that form
the
governing body of His kingdom .
Among
These we hear of the Lipika, who are the Recorders of the karma of that
kingdom
and of all entities therein; of the Maharajas or Devarajas, who
superintend
the working out of karmic law; and of the vast hosts of the
Builders,
who shape and fashion all forms after the Ideas that dwell in the
treasure-house
of the LOGOS, in the Universal Mind, and that pass from Him to
the
Seven, each of whom plans out His own realm under that supreme direction and
all-inspiring
life, giving to it, at the same time, His own individual
colouring.
H. P. Blavatsky calls these Seven Realms that make up the solar
systems
the seven Laya centres; she says:
The
seven Laya centres are the seven Zero points, using the term Zero in the
same
sense that chemists do, to indicate a point at which, in Esotericism, the
scale
of reckoning of differentiation begins. From the Centres – beyond which
Esoteric
philosophy allows us to perceive the dim metaphysical outlines of the
"Seven
Sons" of Life and Light, the seven Logoi of the Hermetic and all other
philosophies
– begins the differentiation of the elements which enter into the
constitution
of our Solar System.(Secret Doctrine, I , 195, Adyar Ed.)
This
realm is a planetary evolution of a stupendous character, the field in
which
are lived out the stages of life of which a physical planet, such as
Venus,
is but a transcient embodiment. We may speak of the Evolver and Ruler of
this
realm as a planetary Logos, so as to avoid confusion. He draws from the
matter
of the solar system, outpoured from the central LOGOS Himself, the crude
materials
He requires, and elaborates them by His own life-energies, each
planetary
Logos thus specialising the matter of His realm from a common stock.
(See
in chapter I, on "The Physical Plane" the statement on the evolution
of
matter.)
The
atomic state in each of the seven planes of His kingdom being identical with
the
matter of a sub-plane of the whole solar system, continuity is thus
established
throughout the whole. As H. P. Blavatsky remarks, atoms change
"their
combining equivalents on every planet," the atoms themselves being
identical,
but their combinations differing. She goes on: -
"Not
alone the elements of our planet, but even those of all its sisters in the
solar
system, differ as widely from each other in their combinations, as from
the
cosmic elements beyond our solar limits…Each atom has seven planes of being,
or
existence, we are taught. (Secret Doctrine, Volume1, pages 166 and174, of the
1893
edition or Volume 1, 199, , of the Adyar edition.)
The
sub-planes, as we have been calling them, of each great plane. On the three
lower
planes of His evolving realm the planetary Logos establishes seven globes
or
worlds, which for convenience’ sake, following the received nomenclature, we
will
call globes A,B,C,D,E,F,G.
These
are the Seven small wheels revolving, one giving birth to the other spoken
of
in Stanza vi, of the Book of Dzyan: He builds them in the likeness of the
older
wheels, placing them on the imperishable centres. (Secret Doctrine, Volume
1,
, of the 1893 edition or Volume 1, , of the Adyar edition.)
Imperishable,
since each wheel not only gives birth to its successor, but is
also
itself reincarnated at the same centre, as we shall see.
These
globes may be figured as disposed in three pairs on the arc of an ellipse,
with
the middle globe at the mid-most and lowest point; for the most part globes
A
and G – the first and seventh – are on the Arupa levels of the mental plane;
globes
B and F – the second and sixth – are on the rûpa levels; globes C and E –
the
third and fifth – are on the astral plane; globe D – the fourth – is on the
physical
plane. These globes are spoken of by H. P. Blavatsky as "graduated on
the
four lower planes of the world of formation,"( Secret Doctrine, Volume 1,
,
of
the1893 edition or Volume 1, , of the Adyar edition- the note is important,
that
the archetypal world is not the world as it existed in the mind of the
planetary
Logos, but the first model which was made.) i.e., the physical and
astral
planes, and the two subdivisions of the mental (rûpa and arûpa). They may
be
figured: - as
This
is the typical arrangement, but it is modified at certain stages of
evolution.
These seven globes form a planetary ring or chain, and – if for a
moment
we regard the planetary chain as a whole, as, so to say, an entity, a
planetary
life or individual – that chain passes through the seven globes as a
whole
form its planetary body, and this planetary body disintegrates and is
reformed
seven times during the planetary life. The planetary chain has seven
incarnations,
and the results obtained in one are handed on to the next.
Every
such chain of worlds is the progeny and creation of another lower and dead
chain
– its reincarnation, so to say. (Secret Doctrine, Volume 1, , of the 1893
Edition
or Volume 1, , of the Adyar Edition.)
These
seven incarnations (technically called "manvantaras") make up
"the
planetary
evolution," the realm of the planetary Logos. As there are seven
planetary
Logoi, it will be seen that seven of these planetary evolutions, each
distinct
from the others, make up the solar system. (Mr. Sinnett calls these
"seven
schemes of evolution"). In an occult commentary this coming forth of the
seven
Logoi from the one, and of the seven successive chains of seven globes
each,
is described:
From
one light seven lights; from each of the seven, seven times seven. ( Secret
Doctrine,
Volume1, , of the 1893 Edition or Volume 1, , of the Adyar edition.)
Taking
up the incarnations of the chain, the manvantaras, we learn that these
also
are sub-divisible into seven stages; a wave of life from the planetary
Logos
is sent round the chain, and seven of these great life-waves, each one
technically
spoken of as "a round," complete a single manvantara. Each globe has
thus
seven periods of activity during a manvantara, each in turn becoming the
field
of the evolving life.
Looking
at a single globe we find that during the period of its activity seven
root-races
of a humanity evolve on it, together with six other non-human
kingdoms
interdependent on each other. As these seven kingdoms contain forms at
all
stages of evolution, as all have higher reaches stretching before them, the
evolving
forms of one globe pass to another to carry on their growth when the
period
of activity of the former globe comes to an end, and go on - from globe
to
globe to the end of that round; they further pursue their course round after
round
to the close of the seven rounds or manvantara after manvantara till the
end
of reincarnations of their planetary chain is reached, when the results of
that
planetary evolution are gathered up by the planetary Logos. Needless to say
that
scarcely anything of this evolution is known to us; only the salient points
in
the stupendous whole have been indicated by the Teachers.
Even
when we come to the planetary evolution in which our own world is a stage,
we
know nothing of the processes through which its seven globes evolved during
its
first two manvantaras; and of its third manvantara we only know that the
globe
which is now our moon was globe D of that planetary chain. This fact,
however,
may help us to realise more clearly what is meant by these successive
reincarnations
of a planetary chain. The seven globes which formed the lunar
chain
passed in due course through their sevenfold evolution; seven times the
life-wave,
the Breath of the planetary Logos, swept round the chain, quickening
in
turn each globe into life.
It
is as though that Logos in guiding His kingdom turned His attention first to
globe
A, and thereon brought into successive existence the innumerable forms
that
in their totality make up a world; when evolution had been carried to a
certain
point, He turned His attention to globe B, and globe A slowly sank into
a
peaceful sleep. Thus the life wave was carried from globe to globe, until one
round
of the circle was completed by globe G finishing its evolution; then there
succeeded
a period of rest, (technically called a pralaya), during which the
external
evolutionary activity ceased.
At
the close of this period, external evolution recommenced, starting on its
second
round and beginning as before on globe A. The process is repeated six
times,
but when the seventh, the last round, is reached, there is a change.
Globe
A, having accomplished its seventh life-period, gradually disintegrates,
and
the imperishable laya centre state supervenes; from that, at the dawn of the
succeeding
manvantara a new globe A is evolved – like a new body – in which the
"principles"
of the preceding planet A take up their abode. This phrase is only
intended
to convey the idea of a relation between globe A of the first
manvantara
and globe A of the second, the nature of that connection remains
hidden.
Of
the connection between globe D of the lunar manvantara – our moon – and globe
D
of the terrene manvantara – our earth – we know little more, and Mr. Sinnett
has
given a convenient summary of the slender knowledge we possess in The system
to
which we belong. He says:-
The
new earth nebula was developed round a centre bearing pretty much the same
relation
to the dying planet that the centres of the earth and moon bear to one
another
at present. But in the nebulous condition this aggregation of matter
occupied
an enormously greater volume than the solid matter of the earth now
occupies.
It
stretched out in all directions so as to include the old planet in its fiery
embrace.
The temperature of the new nebula appears to be considerable higher
than
any temperatures we are acquainted with, and by this means the old planet
was
superficially heated afresh in such a manner that all atmosphere, water, and
volatilisable
matter upon it was brought into the gaseous condition and so
became
amenable to the new centre of attraction set up at the centre of the new
nebula.
In
this way the air and seas of the old planet were drawn over into the
constitution
of the new one, and thus it is that the moon in its present state
is
an arid, glaring mass, dry and cloudless, no longer habitable, and no longer
required
for the habitation of any physical beings. When the present manvantara
is
nearly over, during the seventh round, its disintegration will be completed
and
the matter which it still holds together will resolve into meteoric dust.(Op
.cit.,
)
In
the third volume of The Secret Doctrine, in which are printed some of the
oral
teachings given by H.P.Blavatsky to her more advanced pupils, it is stated:
At
the beginning of the evolution of our globe, the moon was much nearer to the
earth,
and larger than it is now. It has retreated from us, and shrunk much in
size.(The
moon gave all her principles to the earth.) A new moon will appear
during
the seventh round, and our moon will finally disintegrate and disappear.
(Op.
Cit. III, 562, 1893 Ed.)
Evolution
during the lunar manvantara produced seven classes of beings,
technically
called Fathers, or Pitris, since it was they who generated the
beings
of the terrene manvantara. These are the Lunar Pitris of the Secret
Doctrine.
More developed than these were two other classes – variously called
Solar
Pitris, Men, Lower Dhyanis – too far advanced to enter on the terrene
evolution
in its early stages, but requiring the aid of later physical
conditions
for their future growth.
The
higher of these two classes consisted of individualised animal-like beings,
creatures
with embryonic souls, i.e., they had developed the causal body; the
second
were approaching its formation. Lunar Pitris, the first class, were at
the
beginning of that approach showing mentality, while the second and third had
only
developed the kamic principle.
These
seven classes of Lunar Pitris were the product the lunar chain handed on
for
further development to the terrene, the fourth reincarnation of the
planetary
chain. As Monads – with the mental principle present in the first, the
kamic
principle developed in the second and third classes, this germinal in the
fourth,
only approaching the germ stage in the still less developed fifth, and
imperceptible
in the sixth and seventh – these entities entered the earth-chain,
to
ensoul the elemental essence and the forms shaped by the Builders. (
H.P.Blavatsky,
in the Secret Doctrine, does not include those whom Mr. Sinnett
calls
first – and second-class Pitris in the "monads from the lunar chain":
she
takes
them apart as "men," as "Dhyan Chohans." Compare Volume 1,
pages 197, 207
and
211 of the 1893 edition; Volume 1, pages 227, 236 and 239 of the Adyar
edition)
The
nomenclature adopted by me is that of the Secret Doctrine. In the valuable
paper
by Mrs. Sinnett and Mr. Scott-Elliot on the Lunar Pitris, H.P.B.’s "Lower
Dhyanis,"
that incarnate in the third and fourth rounds, are taken as the first
and
second classes of Lunar Pitris; their third class is therefore H.P.B.’s
first
class, their fourth class her second and so on. There is no difference in
the
statement of facts, only in nomenclature, but this difference of
nomenclature
may mislead the student if it be not explained. As I am using
H.P.B’s
nomenclature, my fellow-students of the London Lodge and readers of
their
"Transaction" will need to remember that my first is their third, and
so
on
sequentially.
The
"Builders" is a name including innumerable Intelligences, hierarchies
of
beings
of graduated consciousness and power, who on each plane carry out the
actual
building of forms. The higher direct and control, while the lower fashion
the
materials after the models provided. And now appears the use of the
successive
globes of the planetary chain.
Globe
A is the archetypal world, on which are built the models of the forms that
are
to be elaborated during the round; from the mind of the planetary Logos the
highest
Builders take the archetypal Ideas, and guide the Builders on the arupa
levels
as they fashion the archetypal forms for the round.
On
globe B these forms are reproduced in varied shapes in mental matter by a
lower
rank of Builders, and are evolved slowly along different lines, until they
are
ready to receive an infiltration of denser matter; then the Builders in
astral
matter take up the task, and on globe C fashion astral forms, with
details
more worked out; when the forms have been evolved as far as the astral
conditions
permit, the Builders of globe D take up the task of form-shaping on
the
physical plane, and the lowest kinds of matter are thus fashioned into
appropriate
types, and the forms reach their densest and most complete
condition.
From
this middle point onwards the nature of the evolution some what changes;
hitherto
the greatest attention had been directed to the building of the form;
on
the ascending arc the chief attention is directed to using the form as a
vehicle
of the evolving life and on the second half of the evolution on globe D,
and
on globes E and F the consciousness expresses itself first on the physical
and
then on the astral and lower mental planes through the equivalents of the
forms
elaborated on the descending arc.
On
the descending arc the monad impresses itself as best it may on the evolving
forms,
and these impressions, and so on; on the ascending arc the Monad
expresses
itself through the forms as their inner ruler. On globe G the
perfection
of the round is reached, the Monad inhabiting and using as its
vehicles
the archetypal forms of globe A.
During
all these stages the Lunar Pitris have acted as the souls of the forms,
brooding
over them, later inhabiting them. It is on the first-class Pitris that
the
heaviest burden of the work falls during the first three rounds. The second
and
third-class Pitris flow into the forms worked up by the first; the first
prepare
these forms by ensouling them for a time and then pass on, leaving them
for
the tenancy of the second and third classes. By the end of the first round
the
archetypal forms of the mineral would have been brought down, to be
elaborated
through the succeeding rounds, till they reach their densest state in
the
middle of the fourth round. "Fire" is the "element" of this
first round.
In
the second round the first-class Pitris continue their human evolution, only
touching
the lower stages as the human foetus still touches them today, while
the
second-class, at the close of the round, have reached the incipient human
stage.
The great work of the round is bringing down the archetypal forms of
vegetable
life, which will reach their perfection in the fifth round. "Air" is
the
second round "element".
In
the third round the first-class Pitris becomes definitely human in form;
though
the body is jelly-like and gigantic, it is yet, on globe D, compact
enough
to begin to stand upright; he is ape-like and is covered with hairy
bristles.
The third-class Pitris reach the incipient human stage. Second class
solar
Pitris make their first appearance on globe D in this round, and take the
lead
in human evolution. The archetypal forms of animals are brought down to be
elaborated
into perfection by the end of the sixth round, and "water" is the
characteristic
"element."
The
fourth round, the middle one of the seven that make up the terrene
manvantara,
is distinguished by bringing to globe A the archetypal forms of
humanity,
this round being as distinctively human as its predecessors were
respectively
animal, vegetable, and mineral. Not ill the seventh round will
these
forms be fully realised by humanity, but the possibilities of the human
form
are manifested in the archetypes in the fourth. "Earth" is the
"element" of
this
round, the densest, the most material. The first-class solar Pitris may be
said
to hover round globe D more or less in this round during its early stages
of
activity, but they do not definitely incarnate until after the third great
out-pouring
of life from the planetary Logos in the middle of the third race,
and
then only slowly, the number increasing as the race progresses, and
multitudes
incarnating in the early fourth race.
The
evolution of humanity on our earth, globe D, offers in a strongly marked
form
the continual sevenfold diversity already often alluded to. Seven races of
men
had already shown themselves in the third round, and in the fourth these
fundamental
divisions became very clear on globe C, where seven races, each with
sub-races
evolved. On globe D humanity begins with a First Race – usually called
a
Root Race – at seven different points, "seven of them, each on his
lot." (Book
of
Dzyan (Stanzas of Dzyan, 3: 13). – Secret Doctrine, Volume 2, , of the 1893,
edition–
Volume 3, , of the Adyar edition.)
These
seven types side by side, not successive – make up the first root-race,
and
each again has its own seven sub-races. From the first root-race –
jelly-like
amorphous creatures – evolves the second root-race with forms of more
definite
consistency, and from it the third, ape-like creatures that become
clumsy
gigantic men. In the middle of the evolution of this third root-race,
called
the Lemurian, there come to earth – from another planetary chain, that of
Venus,
much farther advanced in its evolution – members of its highly evolved
humanity,
glorious Beings, often spoken of as Sons of Fire, from Their radiant
appearance,
a lofty order among the Sons of Mind. (Manasaputra. This vast
hierarchy
of self-conscious intelligences embraces many orders.)
They
take up Their abode on earth, as the Divine Teachers of the young humanity,
some
of them acting as channels for the third outpouring and projecting into
animal
man the spark of monadic life which forms the causal body. Thus the
first,
second, and third classes of Lunar Pitris become individualised – the
vast
bulk of humanity. The two classes of solar Pitris, already individualised –
the
first ere leaving the lunar chain and the second later – form two low orders
of
the Sons of Mind; the second incarnate in the third race at its middle point,
and
the first come in later, for the most part in the fourth race, the
Atlantean.
The
fifth, or Aryan race, now leading human evolution, was evolved from the
fifth
sub-race of the Atlantean, the most promising families being in Central
Asia,
and the new race-type evolved, under the direct superintendence of a Great
Being,
technically called a Manu. Emerging from Central Asia the first sub-race
settled
in India, south of the Himalayas, and in their four orders of teachers,
warriors,
merchants, and workmen, ( Brahmanas, Kshattriyas, Vaishyas and Shudras
)
became the dominant race in the vast Indian peninsula, conquering the
fourth-race
and third-race nations who then inhabited it.
At
the end of the seventh race of the seventh round, i.e., at the close of our
terrene
manvantara, our chain will hand on to its successor the fruits of its
life;
these fruits will be the perfected divine men, Buddhas, Manus, Chohans,
Masters,
ready to take up work of guiding evolution under the direction of the
planetary
Logos, with hosts of less evolved entities of every grade of
consciousness,
who still need physical experience for the perfecting of their
divine
possibilities.
The
fifth, sixth, and seventh manvantaras of our chain are still in the womb of
the
future after this fourth one has closed, and then the planetary Logos will
gather
up into Himself all the fruits of evolution, and with his children enter
on
a period of rest and bliss. Of that high state we cannot speak; how at this
stage
of our evolution could we dream of its unimaginable glory; only we dimly
know
that our glad spirits shall "enter into the joy of the Lord," and,
resting
in
Him, shall see stretching before them boundless ranges of sublime life and
love,
heights and depths of power and joy, limitless as the One Existence,
inexhaustable
as the One that Is.
PEACE
TO ALL BEINGS
H P Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine
Isis Unveiled by H P Blavatsky
H P Blavatsky’s Esoteric Glossary
Mahatma Letters to A P Sinnett 1 - 25
A Modern Revival of Ancient Wisdom
(Selection of Articles by H P Blavatsky)
The Secret Doctrine – Volume 3
A compilation of H P Blavatsky’s
writings published after her death
Esoteric
Christianity or the Lesser Mysteries
Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales
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Searchable Full Text of
The Ancient Wisdom by Annie Besant