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The 
Theosophical Quarterly 



VOLUME XVI 




PUBLISHED BY 

THE THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY 
BROOKLYN, N Y. 



Subscription price, $1.00 per annum ; single copies, 25 cents 

Published by The Theosophical Society at 

159 Warren Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

July; October; January; April 

In Europe single copies may be obtained from, and subscriptions sent to, 
Dr. Archibald Keightley, 46, Brook Street, London, W. C. 1, England 



Entered July 17, 1905, at Brooklyn, N. Y., as second-class nutter, 
under Act of Congress of July 16, 1894 

Copyright, 1918, by The Theosophical Society 




JULY, 1918 

The Theosophical Society, as such, is not responsible for any opinion 
or declaration in this magazine, by whomsoever expressed, unless con- 
tained in an official document. 

LESSONS OF THE WAR* 

THE WAR is a great revelation ; it is bringing to light the spiritual 
reality of every nation, as of every man. We are standing in 
the field of conflict between the divine and the infernal powers, 
and we can see the combatants almost as clearly as though we 
were present at the war in heaven, which Milton depicts. And in the 
blaze of that supernatural light, the very souls of men and nations stand 
forth revealed splendid or abominable. 

First France : In the years that followed the devastation and despoil- 
ing of France by her barbarous foe in 1870, the world had come greatly 
to misapprehend her. Leon Daudet has described the France in which 
he grew up, discouraged, despondent, or hard and materialistic, with a 
literature which, so far as it was widely known in other lands, seemed 
to show the life of France as marred by ugly evils. But the true France 
was there always, for those who had eyes of wisdom to perceive, la 
France eternelle, ablaze with the splendor of devotion, magnificent in 
heroic patriotism, in reality inspired by the highest ideal of purity. That 
France now stands superbly revealed, recognized by herself, by the 
whole world, a living manifestation of pure, selfless love, of magnificent 
patriotism. "You have not touched the war yet," a French officer said 
recently to an American, "nor has the war touched you. For me, three 
of my brothers have died fighting, my father and mother have been 
murdered by the Germans, my sister, a Red Cross nurse, made prisoner 
by the Germans, had her hands cut off, and suffered nameless infamies. 
... I am on my way back, to fight for my France . . ." Patriotism, 
duty, sacrifice in the spirit of debonnair grace, radiant as an outburst 
of Spring flowers . . . France is the revelation of the power of Love. 

England has revealed the sense of honour, something bewildering 
and unintelligible to her foe. England has given new life to the old, 

A Lecture delivered at the Annual Convention of The Theosophical Society, by Charles 
Johnston. 



4 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

splendid device, Noblesse oblige, Nobility has obligations. One can 
distinguish between the noble "he who is worth knowing," for that is 
the true meaning of the word and the ignoble by this one thing: the 
base and ignoble soul considers that nobility has privileges; the noble 
recognizes that nobility has obligations, Noblesse oblige . . . Stupidly, 
and in bewilderment, England's deeply ignoble foe has alleged every 
base and selfish motive for England's fighting: greed, envy, fear; and 
the ignoble everywhere have repeated this accusation. How could it be 
otherwise? How can a soul of mud divine and recognize the principle 
of honour? 

In England, those who first volunteered, eager to go to France, to 
fight for honour and to die for France, were the younger sons of the 
ancient noble houses, the men who, possessing every gift of rank and 
fortune, were the more eager to sacrifice all ; the men for whom nobility 
means obligation. Next came the "good sports," the men who had 
imitated and looked up to the aristocrats, the men who had applied the 
principle of honour to all manly sports and exercises. It is not without 
significance that the rules of boxing, accepted by the world, bear the 
name of a noble, the Marquis of Queensberry. From these rules comes 
the prohibition of "hitting below the belt," which has become the symbol 
of the manly spirit of fair play, the world over. From England comes 
the injunction to "play the game," and that spirit of fairness, that sense 
of honour, of genuine nobility, is as divine as is the spirit of love, made 
manifest by France. It is God who supremely "plays the game." 

Next Belgium, with her sacrifice, which has exalted all humanity, 
the Belgium of King Albert and his Queen, the Belgium of Cardinal 
Mercier. Much has been written, in a spirit of infinite snobishness, 
especially in this country, concerning "the king business." But let this 
never be forgotten: It was the high sense of honour of King Albert 
that made the first decision on which will turn the ultimate outcome of 
the war. When confronted by the choice between honour and dishonour, 
King Albert did not take three minutes to decide a question, before which 
at least one great democracy stood hesitating and placating, for well nigh 
three years. The heroic sacrifice of King Albert, who laid upon the 
altar not his own fate alone, but the fate of every man and of every 
woman in Belgium, gave France time to prepare. France's long heroism 
afforded the time for England's army to get ready true Crusaders, 
veritable servants of the Cross, every man of them and France and 
England, with heroic Belgium, have saved America from the nameless 
abominations of German invasion. 

This war is a question of sovereignty, a question of kings, but in 
no cheap sense. In every nation, whatever its outer form of government, 
God is King. In that sense, a democracy, a republic, is and must be a 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 5 

kingdom; it must recognize the kingship of God. In his inaugural on 
April 30, 1789, George Washington said, addressing the two Houses of 
Congress : "It would be peculiarly improper to omit, in this first official 
act, my fervent supplications to that Almighty Being, who rules over 
the universe, who presides in the councils of nations, and whose provi- 
dential aids can supply every human defect, that His benediction may 
consecrate to the liberties and happiness of the people of the United 
States a government instituted by themselves for these essential purposes 
. . . In tendering this homage to the great Author of every public 
and private good, I assure myself that it expresses your sentiments not 
less than my own; nor those of my fellow-citizens at large less than 
either. No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible 
hand, which conducts the affairs of men, more than the people of the 
United States . . ." 

These are the words with which the American government was 
inaugurated, as in outward form a republic, but in spiritual reality a 
monarchy with God as King. And there is, on the other hand, the usurping 
sovereign, Satan, whom Germany so fervently worships, in whose methods 
Germany so passionately believes. "He is a liar, and the father of it 
. . ." and no nation in all history has so . wholeheartedly placed its 
faith in the potency of lying, of large, all-embracing, close-knit, inter- 
national lying, as has Germany; therefore, a question of kings, but in 
no shallow sense. And this war will be won then, and then only, when 
every German with both heart and voice recognizes that God, not Satan, 
is King of this beautiful and afflicted world. It is, in truth, a question 
of kings . 

Italy has had a difficult task and, in many ways, has done superbly. 
Confronted with a divided allegiance : on the one hand, King and country, 
the long-cherished ideal of a truly United Italy ; on the other, the deeply 
corrupt policy of the Vatican, subtle, serpentine; the everlasting foe of 
United Italy, the pledged, subservient ally of perfidious Austria; the 
Vatican which, with deep, inveterate atheism carries on its sordid, base 
intrigue under the holy name of Christ, has made it hard for every loyal 
and religious son of Italy to choose righteously and fight courageously 
in this most righteous war. But Italy, and, with Italy, the world, is 
swiftly learning. This cold neutrality between good and evil, between 
the King and the usurper, between God and Satan, between holiness 
and infamy; this blasphemous parading of holy names and holy phrases 
just at the moment when overtures of peace are a part of Germany's 
game, are driving home their lesson. The days in which the Machiavel- 
lian spirit of the Vatican can work large evil to the cause of Christ and 
His Church, are already numbered. 

What of Russia, in this white light of judgment, in this splendid 
and terrible revelation of souls, whether of men or nations? What has 



6 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

been the bribe that has corrupted the great mass of the Russian people, 
making them traitors to God's cause, in this most holy war? Earth, a 
little more earth, more mud, on which to practise their feeble and 
fumbling husbandry. Not for thirty pieces of silver, but for thirty 
shovelfuls of earth, they have been ready to betray, to rob and murder. 

Yet the real blame must be laid, not on these almost mindless 
mujiks, but on the so-called liberals and "intelligent" classes in Russia, 
beginning with Prince Lvoff, Rodzianko, Gutchkoff and Kerensky. With 
fatal blindness and vanity they allowed themselves to forget the holy 
cause of the Allies, in their preoccupation with their own supposed 
grievances or their own advantages. These men, supported, it seems 
quite certain, by the radicals and socialists of both France and England, 
desired to become Ministers ; and, when the Emperor of Russia refused 
to give the formation of ministries into their hands, they forced his 
abdication; planning, not at all a democratic or republican government, 
but a constitutional monarchy, with the Emperor's brother Michael on 
the throne, and with themselves as ministers. But they were guilty of 
much worse than blindness and vanity, in two elements of their pitiable 
revolution. 

There is one German whom everyone in the lands of the Allies 
respects : Liebknecht who, in the midst of imperial lying, had the courage 
to speak the truth. "This war," said Liebknecht, "was begun by a lie; 
it is being carried on by lies" by the supreme lie, that this war was 
forced on Germany, a lie which has been torn to shreds by the loyal 
confessions of Lichnowsky. 

But no Russian has yet had the courage to declare that their pitiful 
and abject revolution was equally begun by a lie ; the lie that Nicholas II 
was on the eve of making a separate peace with Germany. Sir George 
Buchanan, British Ambassador at Petrograd, has, after long months of 
silence, at last denounced this lie, at a reception in London. The Russian 
Emperor, he declares, would never have made a separate peace with 
Germany. He was loyal throughout to the cause of the Allies, and was 
always a sincere friend of England. 

But the Russian revolution, begun by a lie, was carried on by some- 
thing worse than lying: by an evil compact, namely, with the Soviet 
Socialists, who began to domineer and dictate the very day of the 
Emperor's abdication. With the craven acquiescence of the Duma 
liberals, whom we have already named, the Soviet placarded the walls 
of Petrograd with an "Order" to the Russian army, which instantly 
destroyed discipline. And still more cravenly, more criminally, the Duma 
leaders, connived at the wholesale murder of loyal Russian officers, if 
they did not in fact order these murders. The Russian "liberals," not 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 7 

the Soviets, not the paid servants of Germany, must bear the guilt of 
Russia's treachery. 

Russia is an elemental nation; the mujik has no real individuality; 
hardly any consciousness, except the elemental hunger for the earth from 
which he has emerged (or half-emerged). With his elemental nature, 
he acted in accordance with any strong impulse impressed upon him from 
without, from above; and, so long as this was the impulse of loyalty to 
his Emperor, of loyal obedience to his Church, he felt and acted as a loyal 
and religious man, ready to die, and dying with genuine heroism, for his 
sovereign and his faith. But when it was impressed upon him, with all 
the prestige of the great "liberals," the Duma leaders, Lvoff, Gutchkoff 
and the rest, that the true virtue was disloyalty and unfaith, that he must 
serve, not his God and his King, but his elemental self he learned the 
lesson with astonishing swiftness and thoroughness, becoming the primi- 
tive brute that the last six months have seen revealed. 

No one will question now that his "revolution" has been an unmixed 
calamity, not so much for the Allies (though the danger it has brought 
to the Allies was revealed on March 21), as for his own moral nature; 
by far the worst havoc has been wrought in the mujik's own soul. He 
who was growing into full humanity under the strong impress of loyalty 
and worship, has sunk back again into the elemental world. 

At just this point is the grave responsibility of the American people. 
Lvoff, Gutchkoff and the rest, even including the Socialist Kerensky, 
had, as we have seen, no intention or desire to set up a democratic or 
republican government in Russia. They went in a body to the Emperor's 
brother, asking him to accept the throne. But he made his acceptance 
conditional upon the expressed consent of the whole Russian people, in a 
Constituent Assembly, a Constitutional Convention. And, before this 
Convention could assemble, the western liberals, with our own nation 
in the van, raised a loud acclaim, saluting "the new republic of Russia," 
"the young sister democracy." In the face of this wild acclaim, the Duma 
leaders, daunted and timorous, lacked the courage to bring the Constituent 
Assembly together, and, in the absence of a strong monarchy, the Socialists 
had it all their own way with the results which we see. 

We forgot, whether through mere ignorance, or through national 
vanity, that our form of government, instead of being, as we assumed, of 
necessity the best for all nations, including Russia, might be, for Russia, 
the very worst. We forgot that the thirteen colonies which took part in 
the vastly different revolution in America, had had, on the average, a 
full century of training each in self-government, as an integral part of 
the British system; and that, even then, the new republic was in grave 
danger for a dozen years, until practical sovereignty was created by the 
Constitution, which established an Executive with more power than is 



8 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

ordinarily wielded by kings. We have our perpetual monarch, the Amer- 
ican Constitution, founded on lasting principles of justice, and intended, 
as George Washington said, to express the will of God, in Whom he saw 
the real Ruler of the United States. 

But Russia had no such training; nor had Russia the hereditary 
sense of ordered justice instilled into the veins of Washington and his 
coadjutors by centuries of English law and constitutional practice ; Russia 
had, to take the place of this, a fine and noble loyalty to the Emperor as 
the "Little Father" of the whole nation; more than that, as God's 
anointed, the personal representative of that Divine Arbiter whom George 
Washington so reverently invoked. It was not simply a question whether 
this or that monarch completely embodied in himself gifts and purposes 
adequate to this ideal; the more vital thing was the ideal itself, in a 
hundred million Russian hearts. Without question, it was a spiritual 
calamity for these hundred millions of elemental men, half savage and 
half child, when this ideal was clumsily broken by the "intelligent" liberals 
of Russia, and the evil principle of self-seeking was authoritatively 
enthroned in its place. Everything that has since happened, has logically 
followed from that ; and, if the Duma leaders vainly try to shift the blame 
and the responsibility to the shoulders of the Soviets, Germany's paid 
agents, this shows that they are still as blind as ever, and have not taken 
the first step toward clear-eyed contrition and repentance. 

We ourselves, the people of America, did great and almost irremedi- 
able injury by our ill-advised acclamations of "the new republic," thus 
making it practically impossible to re-establish the monarchy, founded on 
the high principle of loyalty. We have it in our power to do Russia one 
more grave injury, and this time, perhaps, an irremediable one. Should 
one more miracle happen, in this age of so many and so great miracles ; 
should the principle of monarchy, of noble and worthy loyalty, as against 
the basest self-seeking, once more gain headway in Russia (by any means 
except Germany intervention, with its evil travesties of noble things) 
we shall face our opportunity and our tremendous responsibility. If 
we then, through national vanity and doctrinary folly, put obstacles in 
the way of the re-establishment in Russia of a government based on the 
true principle of nobility, of loyalty, of obedience, we shall be guilty of 
an act deeply unwise, deeply evil, certain to be calamitous to Russia, 
certain to bring well-merited punishment to ourselves. 

One other country Ireland shares with Russia the bad eminence 
of betraying the Allies' sacred cause. I shall not lay stress just now 
on the influence of the Vatican here, as in Quebec, as in Spain, working 
basely and subserviently for Germany, lured by German bribes; I shall 
speak rather of the principles which have given to two Gaelic words 
Sinn Fein, "Ourselves" a worldwide currency, an infamous significance 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 9 

in every land. The Sinn Fein advocates, the worshippers of "Ourselves," 
have made it startlingly evident that he who worships himself, thereby 
worships Satan. With infallible instinct, setting up the standard of Sinn 
Fein, they have taken the side of Germany, the side of the powers of evil. 

As long ago as 1913, months before the beginning of the war, Roger 
Casement, Sinn Fein Ambassador to Berlin, openly declared that any 
Irishman who served in the English army was a traitor to Ireland. The 
true part for the Irishman was, to wait for the Germans who, destroying 
England, would raise. Ireland to the heights of prosperity and wealth. 
When he was in Berlin, in the Spring of 1915, many months after the 
abominable outrages committed by the Germans in Belgium and occupied 
France, Casement openly preached an armed alliance between Ireland and 
Germany, whereby Germany, with a firm footing in Ireland, should com- 
mand the highways of the seas. He was, even then, in frequent com- 
munication with the German Foreign Office, in order to bring these 
things to pass. 

At the same time, in Ireland, Arthur Griffith, the founder of Sinn 
Fein, was openly declaring his admiration for all things German, saying 
that if to defend Germany the Germany that had ravaged Belgium 
from the calumnies of England was to be pro-German, then pro-German 
was a title of which every Irishman should be proud. He, too, did not 
confine himself to words. He was one of those who, in the months before 
Easter 1916, was in constant communication with Germany with the 
German General Staff, which had engineered the Belgian atrocities for 
the transport of rifles, machine-guns and ammunition to Ireland ; and the 
rising in Dublin was timed to begin at the time the German munitions 
arrived. It did, in fact, begin at the date arranged with Germany, and 
the arms arrived exactly on the day set only to be sunk off the Irish 
coast. But, where these munitions were checked, other munitions had 
got through : the cartridges used in the Dublin insurrection were German 
Mauser cartridges. 

At the same time, in this country, the work of Germany was being 
effectively done by her Irish serfs and adulators. A book was written, 
and had wide currency among the Celtic worshippers of the Kaiser here, 
with the title "What Could Germany Do for Ireland?" It is full of 
admiration, fulsome admiration, for all things German, for Wilhelm II, 
for Tirpitz this, many months after the "Lusitania" but two things 
in this infamous book transcend all the rest in infamy. The first is the 
frontispiece : Germany, in Prussian helmet, holding the shield over Erin, 
represented as a sentimental maiden Germany protecting innocent 
virtue ! The second is the attitude of the writer toward Belgium, Serbia, 
Poland, Rumania, the pitiable victims of Germany's abominable crimes. 
This passionate prophet of Ireland's nationality has, for these stricken 



10 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

lands nothing but hostility and sneers. Why worry about Belgium and 
Serbia? the words are his Are they not already dead? 

To such depths of infamy and evil are we led by that single worship 
of "Ourselves." It matters not a whit whether it be a question of an 
individual, a tribe, a nation, or, indeed, of all humanity; self-worship 
leads, infallibly, instantly, fatally, to the worship of Satan himself. Any 
tribe, people or language which, at this supreme crisis of mankind, thinks 
of self first, richly deserves to be wiped off the face of the earth, its 
memory perishing from among mankind, or remaining only as a ghastly 
warning. So much for Sinn Fein, "Ourselves," which has given a spec- 
tacle to gods, men and angels. 

We come now to what is of the highest moment : the significance of 
all this, for ourselves, for this country, for the United States of America. 
The principle of application is simple, almost self-evident. In this vast 
region, which is yet not in the full sense a nation, we have a huge 
conglomerate community made up from elements drawn from the very 
nations we have been considering. All the elements are here; there- 
fore all the problems are here and here we must solve them. And we 
must solve them while they are yet in the psychical world the world of 
ideas, of thoughts, of emotions before they have taken form in action. 
The war here is chiefly psychical ; has, indeed, been waged in the psychical 
world from the night when German troops crossed the Belgian frontier, 
with lies upon their lips, with abominable evil in their hearts. And the 
long, spiritually perilous months which passed, after that traitorous inva- 
sion, before we ourselves declared war against Germany, were months 
of intense spiritual and psychical warfare here, when the very souls of 
the American people trembled in the balance. 

No need, at this late date, to speak of England's part in this nation. 
Since the Marne, since Ypres, since the Somme, every American worthy 
of the name is proud of that; the brothers' quarrel is composed in a 
splendid sacrifice in which both participate, and a new series of books 
will be written, no longer carping and criticising England, but giving large 
justice to the potent part played by the English genius and the English 
race in laying the foundations of this great commonwealth. But France 
has contributed almost as largely, and from the very beginning; indeed, 
vast tracts of our territory were French before they were American ; 
regions in both north and south speak French still. Then came the 
Marquis de La Fayette, with Berthier and other Frenchmen, and, later, 
aid direct from the French nation under Rochambeau; and ever since, 
there have been strong and vital ties between the two lands, so that 
it has been said that a good American, when he dies, goes to Paris. But 
let us say instead that a true American goes to France to die. 

Is there any need, to-day, to labour the point that we have also, in 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 11 

our midst, elements of the other side, elements drawn from Germany? 
I think not. But here is^at once, the striking illustration of what one 
means by psychical warfare, by the warfare which we must wage, here 
and now, by psychical and spiritual weapons. We are in the maelstrom 
of that war from day to day, from hour to hour. For well-nigh three 
years, these forces practically strangled us, forcing American manhood 
to play a part of shame. We have won a first victory, but they are 
exceedingly formidable still. With these subtle forces of evil, we must 
fight to the death. 

No need, I think, to say much about the Bolshevik, the Sinn Fein 
forces here in America. They are sufficiently in evidence ; to some extent, 
though by no means fully, their danger is now perceived. But very 
much remains to be done, before the victory over either of them is com- 
plete and final. 

There remains one point, one hour, of supreme danger. Let us 
prepare our hearts to meet it. It will be the decisive spiritual fight. 
That hour will come when Germany, no longer hoping for victory, begins 
to don the livery of sham repentance, to shed false tears, to appeal to 
our generosity, crying Kamerad, Kamerad ! That will be the signal for 
all Germany's agents here to rise and cry in chorus that we must stop 
the war, and holy names will be once more blasphemed in traitorous ap- 
peals for mercy. That will be the point of danger. Let us then, in advance, 
make it quite clear that we are determined that this war shall be fought 
to a finish, to complete and crushing victory, until the Germans shall 
cry out, with their hearts as well as their lips, to the God whom they 
have insulted and blasphemed, and shall in their hearts acknowledge that 
God, not Satan, is King. We have been told that this is "the President's 
war." No; this is God's war, and therefore our war. The Administra- 
tion, the Congress, are the nation's servants, chosen by the nation, to 
carry out the nation's will. Then let there be no mistake about that 
will. Let us highly resolve that in this, God's war, in which we are 
permitted to fight on God's side, for God's holy cause, in so far as in 
us lies, God's victory shall be overwhelming. That is the objective of 
our spiritual war. 



"Do naught to others which, if done to thee, would cause thee pain: 
this is the sum of duty." Mahabharata. 



FRAGMENTS 



SIN puts us in the power of the Black Lodge, makes us their 
debtors. When we sin we use what belongs to the Black Lodge, 
which they lend, and lend for our ultimate undoing. Wherefore 
the wicked appear so often to triumph. 

As a Lodge, they have misused the gift of free will to such an extent 
as to make theirs all commissions of rebellion of any kind soever, all exer- 
cise of personal will as against spiritual will. Therefore whenever we 
do wrong, we put ourselves in the power of the Black Lodge, using their 
property as it were. All perverted divine power was what they seized 
when the angels in Heaven rebelled and St. Michael threw them out. 
They were thrown into Hell, but they kept what they had taken. There 
was no place for it in Heaven and the angels could not take it back with- 
out sinning themselves. 

Thus the age-long conflict between the White and Black Lodges, 
man being the battlefield, as the centre from which each side gains 
recruits. But the Black Lodge has not the power of creation ; that is the 
ultimate goal for which they are striving. They have only the power 
of perversion, of turning that which is created into something evil, 
something that will work against its origin of life. They are determined 
either to gain the power of life, without which they ultimately die, be- 
coming annihilated, and the residuum of life in them, the ultimate spark, 
returning to the White Lodge which created it, as God's agent; or to 
stave off death as long as possible by bringing more and more of con- 
sciousness and created life into their ranks, feeding on it like Kama-lokic 
spooks and turning it, like captured artillery, against the holy forces of 
Light. 

This shows us the imperative need of doing all in our power by 
voluntary discipline, self-sacrifice, etc., not only to fortify ourselves 
against the commission of sins, but also to neutralize the effect of sin 
already committed, both in ourselves and in others. 

If we look at evil as belonging to the Black Lodge, and virtue as 
belonging to the White Lodge, we see clearly the rationale of Vicarious 
Atonement, as we see the fundamental unity of sin on the one hand, and 
virtue on the other, and our common ownership in both in the two Lodges. 
Also we see the reason for much of the so-called unmerited suffering, 
earthquakes, famines, plagues, disasters, great wars, etc., where so many 



FRAGMENTS 13 

innocent people suffer. Also the origin of the doctrine of Original Sin. 
Also we see why the Masters, after having attained, must in some form 
or way make the Great Renunciation and return to save others. 

We see why Christ became man being Son of God, became Son of 
man in His Diznnity, making the two natures again one in His person 
man in all respects, "sin only excepted"; and by a life and death abso- 
lutely pure and sinless, absolutely obedient and renounced, untainted at 
any least point by the Black Lodge, while tempted at all points, made a 
pathway of light between Hell and Heaven along which we may travel 
(every rung of the ladder being perfectly made, perfectly secure), if 
only we will climb, if only we do not become frightened at the abyss 
over which we must pass on what looks like a frail support. It is not 
frail: Christ made it and the angels support it. I see this ladder, this 
pathway, as a gigantic Cross in the heavens, its base firm in Calvary. 
The lower portion is longer, since the first part of the ascent is by far 
the longest and most difficult. When we reach the cross section, the 
equator of the world's consciousness, the dividing line between the world 
of reflection and the world of spirit, we do not see the abyss below. The 
clouds which formerly hid the heavens from us, now are beneath us, and 
hide the darkness and void from which we have emerged. Thence we 
still must climb, up and up into Heaven ; but the way is easier, the upper 
shaft of the Cross is shorter. Always there is upon this Cross, One, 
loving, radiant, infinitely tender and merciful, who will show us at each 
second where to place our toiling feet. As He built this ladder, He 
knows His work ; and as He descended and ascended upon it, He knows 
each step of the way. CAVE. 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 



IX 

DOMINICANS (continued') 
St. Catherine of Siena, Part II 

THE fundamental doctrines of Saint Catherine seem to have been 
given her during those three years. She adapts the doctrine to 
the needs of her friends the men and women who gathered 
around her as religious disciples, and to the needs of people in the 
world with whom she came into contact. She was generous with letters 
to these disciples when separated from them generous too with strangers. 
Several volumes of her letters are preserved. They rank among the 
precious treasures of earth. 

Modern minds, skeptical or ignorant of spiritual existence, and 
dominated by materialistic science, would like to belittle St. Catherine's 
doctrines and experience by calling her physiologically deranged; they 
would justify their verdict by the evidence of her abnormal diet, her 
fastings, and the frequent recurrence of the condition that is called 
ecstasy. On the other hand, people who are not materialists, and who are 
familiar with the metaphysics, philosophies and religions of many civiliza- 
tions, find, outside of Catherine's life and writings, (which to these spirit- 
ually-minded readers bear in themselves sufficient evidence of genuine 
worth) one striking fact that is convincing. This fact is the essential 
identity of her teaching with the doctrines of the old Eastern Scripture, 
the Bhagavad-Gita. When St. Catherine's doctrine is spoken of, what is 
meant is the teaching imparted to her by the Master or her understand- 
ing of His teaching. One of the chief teachings in the Gita is the illusory 
nature of everything outside of Absolute Reality That alone is, all else 
is glamor, illusion. Yet the unreal, manifested universe, the shadow of 
the Real, has a relative reality ; and the reason for its existence is that it 
may arrive at union with the Real. "The thoughtless think that I, the 
unmanifest (The Master is speaking, Bhagavad-Gita, Book VII) possess 
a manifested form, not knowing My Higher Being, excellent and ever- 
lasting. Nor am I visible to all, wrapt in My magical Glamor ; this world 
deluded recognizes me not, unborn, everlasting." Again in Book IX, the 
Master says: "By Me, whose form is unmanifest, was this whole world 
stretched forth ; all beings are set in Me, but I am not contained in them." 
"With one part of My being I stand establishing this whole world." 

Identically the same metaphysical teaching was given to St. Catherine 
the Absolute Reality of the Spiritual Master, the nothingness of 
humanity. "Knowest thou, O daughter," the Master asked her in 
her basement cell, "who thou art and who am I ? Thou art she who art 
not, and I am He who am. If thou hast this knowledge in thy soul, the 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 15 

enemy will never be able to deceive thee, and thou wilt escape from all 
his snares; never wilt thou consent to anything against My command- 
ments, and every grace, every truth, every clearness, thou wilt acquire 
without difficulty." With Dominican zeal for souls, Catherine acts upon 
the ethical suggestion in the latter part of this instruction, and turns it 
from metaphysics to practical morals, building upon that foundation of 
the Real (with its shadow, the unreal) the virtues of Christian Humility 
and Detachment. "The soul that already sees her own nothingness (she 
writes) and knows that all her good is in her Creator, entirely abandons 
herself with all her powers and all creatures, and immerges herself utterly 
in her Creator, in such wise that she directs all her operations primarily 
and entirely towards Him ; nor would she in any wise go out of Him, in 
whom she perceives she has found every good and all perfection of 
felicity ; and from the vision of love, which daily increases in her, she is 
in a manner so transformed into God that she cannot think, nor under- 
stand, nor love, nor remember aught save God, and in what concerns God. 
She sees not other creatures or herself, save only in God, neither does 
she remember herself or them, save simply in God ; even as one who dives 
down into the sea, and is swimming under its waters, neither sees nor 
touches aught save the waters of the sea and the things that are in those 
waters ; he sees nothing outside those waters, touches nothing, feels noth- 
ing. If the likeness of those things that are without reflect themselves 
in the water, he can, indeed, see them ; but only in the water and as they 
are in the water, not otherwise. And this is the ordered and right love 
of self and of all creatures, in which we cannot go wrong, because of 
necessity it is governed by divine rule, neither by it is anything desired 
outside God, because it is ever exercised in God and is ever in Him." 

"Every grace, every truth, every clearness, thou wilt acquire with- 
out difficulty." This promise to her was fulfilled in one notable way, 
during her three years of solitude. Her station in life meant among 
other things that she had no education she could neither read nor write. 
But her great desire to read was achieved in a way that was miraculous. 
One of the nobles who later became her secretary relates that she had the 
faculty of grasping the meaning of a passage, as a whole, without under- 
standing the individual letters and words. It may truly be called miracu- 
lous, if by that we do not mean unexplainable. Her gift might be the 
illumination of a higher mental perceptive power through the light in her 
soul. 

After the "Mystic Marriage," Catherine began an active life in her 
native town, in the rescue of souls. It was during this zealous and loving 
ministry that the incident occurred which (together with the paintings of 
artists) has popularized her name her befriending of the condemned 
noble, Tuldo. Tuldo was not a brutal criminal, as is usually stated, though 
he was a prisoner unjustly accused. In the matter of government, Siena 
and the other Italian cities were in the same condition as Dante's Florence 
like a sick woman on her bed, they tried one form after another. It 



16 

was practical anarchy, and often sanguinary. Tuldo was an aristocrat. 
He was imprisoned for disparaging words against a "People's Party" that 
chanced to hold the governmental reins. He was sentenced to the death 
penalty decapitation ; his age was twenty-two. It is easy to imagine his 
feelings ; he was not vicious, but he was a worldling. Indignation, con- 
tempt, impotent fury, despair, blasphemy. Catherine's procedure in this 
crisis is thoroughly characteristic and thoroughly praiseworthy. Were 
she the mere "social worker" she is often taken to be, acting from the 
materialistic center of "economic welfare," she would have tried to obtain 
a reversal of the death sentence. This might not have been impossible, as 
her family, though of the people, was not without a measure of influence, 
and her own good works had raised her name from obscurity. But 
"economic welfare" was not in her plane of consciousness; she lived in 
the eternal realities of the spirit her heart was stirred for the spiritual 
welfare of Tuldo. She prayed and pondered how she might reach the 
real man within, not how she might avert the trivial incident of physical 
death. The relation established with Tuldo, and its consequences, is a 
triumph of disciplined, religious sympathy. Her prayer and meditation 
brought her understanding of his feelings. When she entered his jail it 
was not as a stranger but as a participator in his suffering. Tuldo felt 
this fraternal bond, and his lonely grief yielded to it. He became, first, as 
wax, under her spiritual fire, and, then the wax became flame. From 
rebellion and blasphemy he passed to such acceptance of the Divine Will, 
as expressed in the events of life, that he could speak of the scaffold 
as "the holy place." The narrative of his last moments exists in Cather- 
ine's own words sent by her, immediately after the execution, to her 
spiritual adviser who was absent from Siena; this is one of the great 
letters of the world, though parts of it will be repulsive to some modern 
minds : 

"I went to visit him whom you know : whence he received such com- 
fort and consolation that he confessed, and prepared himself very well. 
And he made me promise by the love of God that when the time of the 
sentence should come, I would be with him. So I promised, and did. 
Then in the morning, before the bell rang, I went to him : and he received 
great consolation. I led him to hear Mass, and he received the Holy 
Communion, which he had never before received. His will was accorded 
and submitted to the will of God; and only one fear was left, that of 
not being strong at the moment. But the measureless and glowing good- 
ness of God deceived him, creating in him such affection and love in the 
desire of God that he did not know how to abide without Him, and said : 
'Stay with me, and do not abandon me. So it shall not be otherwise than 
well with me. And I die content.' And he held his head upon my breast. 
I heard then the rejoicing and breathed the fragrance of his blood ; and 
it was not without the fragrance of mine, which I desire to shed for the 
sweet Bridegroom Jesus. And, desire waxing in my soul, feeling his 
fear, I said : 'Comfort thee, sweet my brother ; since we shall soon arrive 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 17 

at the Wedding Feast. Thou shalt go there bathed in the sweet Blood of 
the Son of God with the sweet Name of Jesus, which I will never to leave 
thy memory. And I await thee at the place of justice.' Now think, 
father and son, his heart then lost all fear, and his face changed from 
sorrow to gladness ; and he rejoiced, he exulted, and said : 'Whence comes 
such grace to me, that the sweetness of my soul will await me at the 
holy place of justice?' See, that he had come to so much light that he 
called the place of justice holy! And he said: "I shall go wholly joyous, 
and strong, and it will seem to me a thousand years before I arrive, 
thinking that you are awaiting me there.' And he said words so sweet as 
to break one's heart, of the goodness of God. 

"I waited for him then at the place of justice ; and waited there with 
constant prayer, in the presence of Mary and of Catherine, Virgin and 
martyr. But before I attained, I prostrated me, and stretched my neck 
upon the block; but my desire did not come there, for I had too full 
consciousness of myself. Then up ! I prayed, I constrained her, I cried 
'Mary !' for I wished this grace, that at the moment of death she should 
give him a light and a peace in his heart, and then I should see him reach 
his goal. Then my soul became so full that although a multitude of people 
were there, I could see no human creature, for the sweet promise made 
to me. 

"Then he came, like a gentle lamb ; and seeing me, he began to smile 
and wanted me to make the sign of the Cross. When he had received 
the sign, I said : 'Down ! To the Bridal, sweetest my brother ! For soon 
thou shalt be in the enduring life.' He prostrated him with great gentle- 
ness, and I stretched out his neck ; and bowed me down, and recalled to 
him the Blood of the Lamb. His lips said naught save Jesus ! and, 
Catherine ! And so saying, I received his head in my hands, closing my 
eyes in the Divine Goodness, and saying, 'I will !' " 

Catherine had prayed for a sign of Tuldo's acceptance by the Master. 
This was accorded her. As the head fell into her hands, she saw Tuldo 
enter the wounded side of Christ, "with a gesture sweet enough to draw 
a thousand hearts." 

St. Catherine's ceaseless activity as charitable minister to sufferers 
of all kinds, taken in connection with her teaching of the absoluteness of 
God and the nothingness of man, constitutes another striking similarity 
with the old teaching of the Orient. It will be remembered that Arjuna 
is perplexed by Krishna's words upon "union" and "renunciation of 
works" he cannot see his way out of the dilemma. "Thou praisest 
renunciation of works, O Krishna, and again union with the Soul ; tell me 
with certainty which of these two is better !" Krishna answers : "Renun- 
ciation and union through works both make for the supreme goal ; but of 
these two union through works is more excellent than renunciation of 
works." "Who does the work that is to be done without seeking reward, 
he has renounced, he follows union, not he who ceases from sacrifice and 
rites. Son of Pandu, know that what they call renunciation is also union, 



18 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

for none can reach union who has not renounced the heart's desires." 
St. Catherine expresses this very doctrine in Christian terms. The follow- 
ing illustrative passage is from one of her letters ; the experience narrated 
is, of course, her own, though with the customary humility of the saints, 
she makes no mention of herself. "This servant of God, as I understood, 
having one time among others an intense desire to shed her blood and her 
life and annihilate her very consciousness for Holy Church, the Bride of 
Christ, lifted the eye of her mind to know that she had no being in herself, 
and to know the goodness of God toward her that is, to see how God 
through love had given her being and all gifts and graces that follow from 
being. So, seeing and tasting such love and such depths of mercy, she 
saw not how she could respond to God except by love. But because she 
could be of no use to Him, she could not show her love; therefore she 
gave herself to considering whether she found anyone to love through 
Him, by whom she might show love. So she saw that God loved 
supremely His rational creatures, and she found the same love to all that 
was given to herself, for all are loved of God. This was the means she 
found (which showed whether she loved God or not) by which she could 
be of use. So then she rose ardently, full of charity to her neighbours, 
and conceived such love for their salvation that she would willingly have 
given her life for it. So the service which she could not render to God 
she desired to render to her neighbour. And when she had realized that it 
befitted her to respond by means of her neighbour, and thus to render Him 
love for love as God by means of the Word, His Son, has shown us 
love and mercy so, seeing that by means of desire for the salvation of 
souls, giving honour to God and labour to one's neighbour, God was well 
pleased she looked then to see in what garden and upon what table the 
neighbour might be enjoyed." 

Two matters that have always caused comment, favourable or 
adverse, must be mentioned. These are her ecstasy (often painted by 
artists) and her political activity. With very great frequency, both in 
her private prayers, and in public, when she received the Holy Com- 
munion, for example, she became unconscious of what was going on 
around her, and remained in that state of unconsciousness, sometimes for 
several hours. People sometimes thought this "rapt" condition was feigned, 
for the purpose of attracting attention and gaining influence. To test its 
genuineness, needles and other sharp instruments were thrust into her 
body ; her doubters were convinced. But her "ecstasy" caused her (and 
others) great inconvenience and, even, what is called persecution. The 
trance condition followed her daily Communion at the Dominican Church. 
One can recognize the reluctance of the Fathers to have a young woman 
lying insensible in their Chapel for an hour or two in the morning, 
especially, if she were a solitary worshipper. That reluctance, however, 
and their unwillingness, after a time, to have her enter the Church, does 
not justify the inconsiderate and unkind treatment she sometimes received 
at their hands, such as being thrown out of the Chapel. In justification 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 19 

of St. Catherine's trance, something might be brought forward concerning 
the "phenomena" of the early days of the Theosophical Movement. Like 
the "phenomena," was the trance necessary? It would seem rather a 
limitation in the Saint. It has been said that as one enters the higher 
states of consciousness, one wishes to shut out the lower planes but that 
instead of yielding to the self-indulgence, one must continue consciousness 
on all planes. In speaking of one so truly great and venerable as St. 
Catherine, it is with regret that such words as "limitation," "fault," "mis- 
take," etc., are used. She is so great, however, that the truthful mention 
of her errors leaves her still venerable. 

The last five years of her life, from 1375-1380 (she was thirty-three 
years old when she died) were occupied with public affairs. Some of 
these were local quarrels of the anarchic Italian cities ; two, however, were 
of historical importance connected with the reestablishment of the 
Papacy at Rome, after a long period of residence at Avignon. When 
Clement V, a Frenchman, became Pope in 1309, he was reluctant to leave 
his own country and go into the anarchic conditions of Italy. After 
trying several places, he fixed his residence at Avignon ; he died, and his 
successors continued to make Avignon their court. It is said that both 
Napoleon and Bismarck endeavoured to lure the modern Popes from 
their Roman throne, because these rulers perceived that loss of prestige 
would follow abandonment of the historical centre. The 14th Century 
Popes at Avignon became overshadowed by the great Kingdom of France. 
Like many pious souls, St. Catherine was profoundly troubled by the con- 
dition of the Church. As its authorities and leading representatives 
were men of dishonest and immoral lives, the same viciousness was found 
in the mass of worshippers. St. Catherine brooded over this deplorable 
state, as Dante had done, and tried to find the cause of it and the remedy. 
Dante had looked backward, and found a shadow of consolation in revery 
over a fancied golden age of the Church before Constantine's fatal donation 
of temporal wealth. Catherine's ignorance of history may have deprived 
her of that false solace. Her position is easy to understand and sympa- 
thize with. Her mental inheritance was unlimited reverence for the 
Church. The Church and the Pope closed her vista. She could not look 
beyond the Church into the vast region which the Theosophical Movement 
has opened up to the modern world. She could not discriminate between 
the preciousness of Catholic doctrine and the unworthiness of those who 
use that doctrine for their own ends. To her the Church was Christ's 
Bride, and the Pope was Christ on earth. It was her misfortune that her 
great faith did not bring her calm reliance upon the sure outworking of 
the Divine Purpose. She sought the cause and the immediate remedy of 
the evils in Church and in society. Her answer to her own questioning 
was: The long foreign residence at Avignon is the cause of the evil. 
Having found this as cause, she set vigorously to work to remedy it. 

She laboured devotedly in this cause, journeying to many Italian 
cities, and to Avignon, with great danger to herself. She accomplished 



20 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

her object ; but had to begin her efforts again, almost immediately. The 
Pope died, and there was a disputed election. This occurrence is known 
as the Great Schism ; two men proclaimed themselves Pope and demanded 
the allegiance of the faithful. At the end of five years of self-sacrifice, 
she had to admit, with broken heart, that the success she had won had not 
accomplished her ultimate object reformation of morals in the Church. 

Those who wish to follow St. Catherine in these five years of political 
activity will easily find the narrative in a biography. Her public career 
is the most interesting part of her life to many students. Of modern 
scholarly and sympathetic biographers, Mrs. Aubrey Richardson alone 
recognises clearly that those five years were mistaken and wasted effort. 
Mrs. Richardson's comment, both upon St. Catherine and upon the general 
principles involved, is so discriminating that we subjoin the concluding 
paragraphs of her chapter: 

"But to come to Catherine as a politician. In saying that, as woman 
and Catholic, she had done better not to have meddled in public affairs, 
it is not suggested that she was fussy and incompetent, far less that she 
was insincere. And Italy had need of a practical application of the order, 
discipline and unity that are beloved of the Catholic mind. The point is 
that Catherine's genius was fettered and enmeshed by the political prob- 
lems she tried to solve. Her character, her womanhood and her saintship 
all suffered from her plunge into the political arena. It was as 'holy 
virgin/ prophetess and 'mother' that she achieved the measure of real 
success that was hers. Pitted in statecraft against those to whom the 
political game was a natural resource, if not a primary occupation ; against 
the subtlety, the force, the unscrupulous self-interest arid the more forcible 
ambitions of men, she became a tool neglected or used according to the 
dilemma or the necessity of the occasion. Vowed to a misson the restor- 
ation of the independence and the authority of the Roman See, the 
reformation of the discipline of the clergy, and the reconstitution of the 
papal court and pledged to a Crusade the suppression of militarism 
and lawlessness in Europe by the joining of the Western nations in a 
campaign against Eastern races, by the union of Christendom against 
Islam she did not enter into the wider social service with an open mind. 
As a servant of the commonweal, she was impeded by her preconceptions 
and prejudices as a daughter of "Holy Church." Nothing could be 
done, she believed, without assertion of the final authority of the Pope. 
She used such processes of law and instruments of conquest as came to 
her hand, not, in the first instance, for the promotion of the greatest good 
of the greatest number, but for the consolidation of that theocracy which 
she believed the Founder of Christianity had established upon earth as 
an arbitrary and perpetual government for the nations. And so Catherine 
fell from her higher office of discerner of spirits and mother of many 
souls, and became a mere official of the party whose side in politics she 
took. That she was an official of rare ability and peculiar powers of 
persuasion, also one absolutely loyal and devoted to the principles she 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 21 

defended and the Chief she followed, does not justify her descent into 
officialism. 

"It may be said that it is not only the woman who sacrifices the 
fuller life, puts aside higher faiths and subjects liberty to a party or a 
cause, when she lays her hands on the political machine which the mud 
of human affairs being what it is cannot be kept immaculately clean and 
must in some sense prove a car of Juggernaut. That is true enough. It 
is true also that men themselves are not in general perfectly fashioned 
for the tasks of statesmanship they assume. The story of Catherine does 
not contain the moral that women are inherently unfit to govern and men 
necessarily fit. It shows simply that woman is faithful to her nature and 
her destiny only when she remains a saint and a mother the function of 
her maternity of spirit being to bring forth souls as the function of her 
maternity of flesh is to bring forth bodies. As ministrant at once to 
individuals and to nations, of material consolations and spiritual advice, 
she is ineffable. When she goes to the service of her kind in the spirit 
in which Catherine originally set forth, the spirit of doing the will of 
God, of binding up the broken-hearted, of proclaiming liberty to the 
captives of sin and of opening prisons of ignorance and habit in which 
men lie bound ; when she keeps close to homely duty and the guidance of 
her capacities, her opportunities and her conscience, no matter how widely 
those duties open out, or what great occasions fall in her way, she is doing 
woman's part. And, even as she must consider no task of human service 
mean, derogatory or unclean, so she must not fear any duty as too high, 
too public or too responsible, should it appear before her clearly as the 
duty she is called to fulfil. 

"But her woman's part is abandoned when she follows matters of 
political expediency by paths that lead away from the spiritual necessities 
of modesty, humility, truth, honour, justice and sincerity; when she sur- 
renders the sovereignty of her sex and the simplicity of her faith and 
becomes a partisan, an adherent, the instrument of an organisation for the 
aggrandisement of a personage, a class, a sex or a community. She whose 
destiny it is to be Bride of Christ in Heaven, may not be the servile 
devotee of any 'Christ on Earth.' Yet because women are women and 
impressionable, even as Catherine was woman and most susceptible to all 
impacts of idea and emotion, they are but too ready to become voluble 
ajid effusive advocates of theories, schemes, doctrines and causes that, 
whether novel and amorphous or antiquated and defined, draw them away 
from simple duty and loving service, fire them with a misdirected enthu- 
siasm and make them termagant followers of self-appointed leaders to 
imaginary promised lands and shouting subjects of self-ordained kings 
and priests of human destiny." 

"Discerner of spirits and mother of many souls"! That title to 
veneration and to rank among the spiritually great one can indisputably 
urge for St. Catherine. Her ministry as physician of souls was for- 
tunately carried on together with the mistaken, arduous public works. 



22 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

She formed a company of disciples, men and women, to whom she passed 
on the training she had herself received from the Master or His disciples. 
Many of this band, her spiritual family, accompanied her in all her 
journeys. Two of them, young men of noble and learned families, made 
themselves her secretaries. Through their hands she sent her instruc- 
tions and advice to her associates who were separated from her also to 
the people of the world and others who sought her counsel. 

It is a temptation to quote at length from her wonderfully wise 
letters. Four volumes of these are accessible in an Italian edition. Nearly 
one hundred letters are included in an English translation by Miss Scud- 
der (Dutton & Co., New York). They are not only splendid with 
wisdom; they glow with sympathetic tenderness; they have penetrating 
vision. In style they are often epigrammatic. We limit ourselves to a 
few sentences and one longer passage, in the hope that these extracts 
may whet the desire of readers, and that readers may satisfy themselves 
with the letters, thus acquiring direct knowledge of one of the greatest 
of all the Saints. 

"Nails were not enough to hold God-and-Man nailed and fastened 
on the Cross had Love not held Him there." "Perfection does not consist 
in macerating or killing the body, but in killing our perverse self-will." 
(To her niece, a cloistered nun) "When guests ask for thee at the grating, 
abide in thy peace and do not go but let them say to the prioress what 
they wanted to say to thee, unless she commands thee to go on thy 
obedience. Then, hold thy head bowed, and be as savage as a hedgehog." 
(To a man enamoured of public life) "You will do very well to refuse 
offices ; for a man seldom fails to give offence in them." 

"Up, my daughters, begin to sacrifice your own wills to God ! Don't 
be ready always to stay nurslings for you should get the teeth of your 
desire ready to bite hard and musty bread, if needs be." 

(Her subject in this letter is self-pity.) "Many a time it happens 
that the soul loves spiritually; but if it does not find the consolation or 
satisfaction from the beloved that it would like, or if it suspects that more 
love or satisfaction is given to another than to itself, it falls into 
suffering, into depression of mind, into criticism of its neighbour 
and false judgment, passing judgment on the mind and intention of the 
servants of God, and especially on those from whom it suffers. Thence it 
becomes impatient, and thinks what it should not think, and says with its 
tongue what it should not say. In such suffering as this, it likes to resort 
to a proud humility, which has the aspect of humility, but is really an 
offshoot of Pride, springing up beside it saying to itself : 'I will not pay 
these people any more attention, or trouble myself any more about them. 
I will keep entirely to myself; I do not wish to hurt either myself or 
them.' And it abases itself with a perverted scorn. Now it ought to 
perceive that this is scorn, by the impulse to judge that it feels in its heart, 
and by the complaints of its tongue. It ought not then to do so ; for in 
this fashion it will never get rid of the root of Pride, nor cut off the little 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 23 

scion at the side, which hinders the soul from attaining the perfection at 
which it has aimed. But it ought to kneel at the table of the Most Holy 
Cross, to receive the food of the honour of God and the salvation of 
souls, with a free heart, with holy hatred of itself, with passionate desire ; 
seeking to gain virtue by suffering and sweat, and not by private consola- 
tions either from God or its fellows; following the footsteps and the 
teaching of Christ Crucified, saying to itself with sharp rebuke: 'Thou 
shouldst not, my soul, thou that art a member, travel by another road than 
thy Head. An unfit thing it is that limbs should remain delicate beneath 
a thorn-crowned Head.' If such habits became fixed, through one's own 
frailty, or the wiles of the devil, or the many impulses that shake the heart 
like winds, then the soul ought to ascend the seat of its conscience, and 
reason with itself, and let nothing pass without punishment and chastise- 
ment, hatred and distaste for itself. So the root shall be pulled up, and 
by displeasure against itself the soul will drive out displeasure against its 
neighbour, grieving more over the unregulated instinct of its own heart 
and thoughts than over the suffering it could receive from its fellows, or 
any insult or annoyance they could inflict on it." 

SPENCER MONTAGUE. 



"The parts and signs of goodness are many. If a man be gracious 
and courteous to strangers, it shews he is a citizen of the world, and that 
his heart is no island cut off from other lands, but a continent that joins a 
them. If he be compassionate towards the afflictions of others, it shews 
that his heart is like the noble tree, that is wounded itself when it gives the 
balm. If he easily pardons and remits offences, it shews that his mind is 
planted above injuries, so that he cannot be hurt. // he be thankful for 
small benefits, it shews that he weighs men's minds and not their trash. 
But above all, if he have St. Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be 
an anathema from Christ for the salvation of his brethren, it shews much 
of a divine nature, and a kind of conformity with Christ Himself." 

"Of Goodness," Francis Bacon. 



EASTERN AND WESTERN 
PSYCHOLOGY 



VII 
THE SEVEN POWERS OF THE SPIRIT 

IF we carry on the simile we have already used, and think of 
ourselves as emerging from the waters of psychical life, and grad- 
ually growing able to live in, and freely to breathe, the pure air 

of the Spirit, we shall soon come to ask ourselves what new powers 
rightly belong to this, our new condition ; what new forces we may expect 
to unfold themselves within us, as properly belonging to the new realm 
which we have entered. 

In their answers to this question, the teachings of the East and of 
the West are in singular accord. Each takes a passage of one of the 
older Scriptures, in which a series of virtues is enumerated, and, 
developing this, builds upon it a consistent doctrine of the Powers of the 
Spirit. In the West, the passage is the opening one in the eleventh 
chapter of the book of the prophet Isaiah. It may be interesting to add, 
in quoting the passage, the Greek names of the Seven Gifts, as given 
in the Septuagint. The passage is as follows : 

"And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a 
Branch shall grow out of his roots: and the Spirit of the Lord (pneuma 
tou Theou) shall rest upon him; the spirit of wisdom (pneuma sophias) 
and understanding (suneseos) the spirit of counsel (pneuma boules) 
and might (ischuos), the spirit of knowledge (pneuma gnoseos) and 
of the fear of the Lord (eusebeias, pneuma phobou tou Theou)." 
The English authorized version does not make a clear distinction between 
eusebeia (piety) and phobos tou Theou (the fear of God), translating 
both by the same terms, but theologians have, in writing of these spiritual 
powers, made the distinction between them sufficiently clear. 

The similar passage used as a basis for the description of the Powers 
of the Spirit in the East is taken from the Brihad Aranyaka Upanishad, 
toward the end of the great dialogue between King Janaka and Yajnaval- 
kya. Once more, the Sanskrit words may be given : 

"He who knows is, therefore, full of peace (shanta), self-control 
(danta), silence (or, cessation, uparata), endurance (titikshu), concen- 
tration (samahita)." Therefore we get a group of virtues, peace 
(shama), control (dama), silence (uparama), patience (titiksha), con- 
centration (samadhana), to which certain other spiritual powers came 
in time to be added, the whole being developed along very much the same 
lines as happened with the passage in Isaiah. 

It is vitally interesting that the passage in Isaiah has long been 



EASTERN AND WESTERN PSYCHOLOGY 25 

accepted as portraying the virtues of the Divine Man, while the Upanishad 
passage explicitly undertakes to set forth certain of the characteristics 
of the Master, of him who, in the fullest sense, has attained. There is, 
therefore, in each case, quite adequate justification for taking these two 
passages as inventories of a full range of spiritual powers. 

Let us try to see what meaning has been given to the separate powers, 
in each case. 

As I write, I have before me two books, by learned Christian writers, 
each of whom analyzes these seven Powers, or Gifts of the Holy Spirit. 
One is a Frenchman, Louis Lallemant, who was born at Chalons-sur- 
Marne, in 1588. The other is a Belgian, Charles Louis Laurent Bron- 
chain, who was born at Frameries, near Mons, in 1829. Both, therefore, 
by a curious coincidence, belong to the region of the world's greatest 
battles. 

Father Louis Lallemant begins his analysis of the first Gift of 
wisdom by just such an etymology as would commend itself to Shanka- 
racharya. Wisdom, he says, is defined to be a knowledge acquired by 
first principles ; for "the name sapientia, wisdom, comes from sapor, 
savour; and as it is the property of the taste to distinguish the flavour of 
viands, so," says Saint Isidore, "wisdom, that is, the knowledge that we 
have of creatures by the first principle, and of second causes by the First 
Cause, is a sure rule for judging rightly of everything." 

The gift of Wisdom, our author continues, is such knowledge of 
God, His attributes and mysteries, as is full of flavour. The under- 
standing only conceives and penetrates. Wisdom judges and compares ; 
it enables us to see causes, reasons, fitnesses : it represents to us God, His 
greatness, His beauty, His perfections, His mysteries, as infinitely ador- 
able and worthy of love ; and from this knowledge there results a 
delicious taste, which sometimes extends even to the body, and is greater 
or less according to the state of perfection and purity to which the soul 
has attained. ... A soul which, by mortification, is thoroughly 
cured of its passions, and by purity of heart is established in a state of 
perfect health, is admitted to a wonderful knowledge of God, and dis- 
covers things so great that it loses its power of acting through its senses. 
Hence proceed raptures and ecstasies, which indicate, however, by the 
impression which they produce in those who have them, that they are 
not altogether purified or accustomed to extraordinary graces ; for in 
proportion as a soul purifies itself, the mind becomes stronger and more 
capable of bearing divine operations without emotion or suspension of 
the senses, as in the cases of our Lord and the Blessed Virgin, the 
Apostles, and certain other Saints, whose minds were continually occupied 
with the most sublime contemplations, united with wonderful interior 
transports, but without there being anything apparent externally in the 
way of raptures and ecstasies. . . . The vice opposed to wisdom 
is folly, which after its kind, is formed in the soul in the same manner 
as wisdom, but by contrary principles ; for wisdom refers all to the last 



26 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

end, which in morals is called the altissima causa, the supreme and 
primary Cause. It is this it seeks, this it follows and relishes in all things. 
It judges of everything by reference to this sovereign end. In like 
manner, folly takes as its end, its first principle, its altissima causa, either 
honour, or pleasure, or some other temporal good, having a taste for 
nothing else, and referring everything thereto, seeking and valuing only 
that, and despising everything else. "The fool and the wise man are 
opposed one to the other," says Saint Isidore, "inasmuch as the latter is 
possessed of the taste and the sense of discretion, in which the former 
is wanting." And this is why, as Saint Thomas observes, "the one judges 
rightly of things that regard conduct, because he judges of them by 
reference to the first principle and the last end ; and the other judges 
ill, because he does not take this sovereign cause as the rule of his 
sentiments and actions." . . . The fruit of the Holy Spirit which 
answers to the gift of wisdom is that of Faith ; because the soul relishing 
divine things cleaves more firmly to the belief of them, and the sort of 
experimental knowledge which it thus obtains serves it as a kind of 
evidence of their reality. . . . 

So far the first Power of the Spirit, Wisdom (sophia). We come 
now to the second, the gift of Understanding (sunesis). The Greek 
word, which we have taken from the Septuagint, the Greek version of the 
Old Testament, is used with exactly the same meaning in the New, and 
notably in the following passage : "We also cease not to pray and make 
request for you, that ye may be filled with the knowledge of His will in 
all spiritual wisdom and (spiritual) Understanding, to walk worthily of 
the Master unto all pleasing, bearing fruit in every good work, and 
increasing in the knowledge of God ; strengthened with all power, accord- 
ing to the might of His radiance, unto all patience and long suffering 
with joy; giving thanks unto the Father, who made us meet to be 
partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light (the Holy Ones in the 
Light) ; who delivered us out of the power of the Darkness, and trans- 
lated us into the kingdom of the Son of His love ; in Whom we have our 
redemption (apolutrosin, "a loosing away"), the forgiveness (aphesin, 
"the sending away") of our sins (hamartia, "error," "missing the 
mark,") : Who is the Image of the Invisible God (eikon tou Theou tou 
aoratou), the Firstborn of all Creation (ktisis, "a making," "a thing 
made or produced") ; for in Him were all things created, in the heavens 
and upon the earth, the things visible and the things invisible, whether 
Thrones (thronoi), or Dominions (kuriotetes), or Principalities (arkhai), 
or Powers (exousiai) ; all things have been created (or produced) 
through Him, and unto Him; and He is before all things, and in Him 
all things consist (sunesteke, "hold together"). 

This is a passage of cardinal value. In it, Paul sets forth the doc- 
trine of the Logos, as developed by Philo (in the light of the sacred 
traditions preserved in Egypt) from the teachings of Plato, who also, in 
many things seems to have been indebted to Egypt. Paul teaches, here 



EASTERN AND WESTERN PSYCHOLOGY 27 

and elsewhere, that Jesus was not only the "Messiah," the Hope of 
Israel, but also the Incarnation of the Logos, or, as the Eastern term 
is, a plenary Avatar. And, further, that "spiritual Wisdom and Under- 
standing," together with courage and endurance, come to being in us 
through the direct radiation of the power of the Master, as the manifes- 
tation of the Logos. 

It is worth while to quote, just at this point, an Upanishad passage 
likewise describing the Logos: "This is the mighty Soul (Atma) unborn, 
who is Understanding (Vijnanamaya) among the life-powers. This is 
the radiance in the heart within, where rests the Ruler of all, Master of 
all, Lord of all. He grows not greater through good works, nor less 
through evil. He is Lord of all, Overlord of beings, Shepherd of all 
beings. He is the bridge that holds the worlds apart, lest they should 
flow together. This is He Whom the followers of the Eternal seek to 
know through their scriptures, sacrifices, gifts and penances, through 
ceasing from evil towards others. He who knows this becomes a sage 
(muni, saint). This is the goal in search of which pilgrims go forth on 
pilgrimages. Knowing Him, the men of old desired not offspring. What 
should we do with offspring, they said, since ours is the Soul (Atma), 
the All? They became saints (bhikshacharyam charanti sma "they fol- 
lowed mendicancy, poverty") ceasing from the desire of offspring, the 
desire of the world, the desire of wealth. For the desire of offspring is 
a desire for wealth; and the desire of wealth is a desire for the world. 
For these are both desires. But the Soul (Atma) is not that, not that. 
It (Atma) is incomprehensible, for It cannot be comprehended; It is im- 
perishable, for It passes not away ; nought adheres to It, for It is free ; 
the Soul is not bound, fears not, suffers not. For to him who knows, 
neither crosses over the evil he does nor the good. He passes both; 
things done or undone afflict him not." 

There is a striking identity here, even when the phrases are con- 
trary, as when Paul says, of the Logos, "In Him all things hold together," 
while the Upanishad says, "He is the bridge that holds the worlds apart, 
lest they should flow together." Both teach the eternity of the Logos, 
the production of all worlds through Him, the presence of His radiance 
in the spiritual man, bringing redemption, the putting-away of all evils, 
and immortality. 

The word translated "Soul" is Atma, and it is worth noting that 
this word, so difficult adequately to translate, is derived from a root, 
meaning "to breathe," so that Atma is, fundamentally, the Great Breath, 
the Holy Spirit. It is interesting, too, that the word doxos, generally 
translated "glory," but perhaps better rendered "radiance," here corre- 
sponds to the Sanskrit Akasha, "Forth-shining, radiation, radiance," the 
living Ray of the Logos. It is through this radiation of the Logos, in 
the spiritual man, according to the Upanishad, that Wisdom and Power 
are born "in the heart within," that is, in the spiritual man, who dwells 
in the light of the Spirit, as the natural man dwells in the darkness of 



28 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

the psychical world, the world of desire. This Upanishad passage is 
immediately followed by the passage, previously quoted, which enumer- 
ates "the gifts of the Spirit." And one may add to the significance of 
the whole Upanishad excerpt by noting that the name of the wise king, 
"Janaka, king of the Videhas," has a symbolic meaning; Janaka literally 
means "the Giver of life," while Videha means "bodiless," he who has 
put off the bondage of the body. Of such, therefore, Janaka, the Life- 
giver, was king. 

To come back to the enumeration and analysis of the gifts of the 
Holy Spirit. The second of these is Understanding. Of this gift, 
Father Louis Lallemant says: Understanding is the intimate knowledge 
of an object: Intelligere est intus legere. The gift of Understanding is 
a light which the Holy Spirit bestows, in order to penetrate intimately 
those obscure truths which faith proposes; and this penetration, says 
Saint Thomas, must cause the mind to conceive a true idea and a right 
judgment of the last end and of everything which has reference thereto, 
otherwise it would not be a gift of the Holy Spirit. Faith contemplates 
three kinds of objects. First, God and His mysteries ; secondly, creatures 
in their relations to God ; thirdly, our own actions, to direct them to the 
service of God. We are naturally very obtuse with regard to all these 
things, and know nothing rightly about them, except as we are illuminated 
by the Holy Spirit through Faith, and through the other lights which He 
communicates to us. That which Faith makes us simply believe, the 
gift of Understanding enables us to penetrate more clearly, and in such a 
manner as, although the obscurity of Faith still remains, appears to 
render evident what Faith teaches; so that he who possesses it marvels 
that some refuse to believe the articles of our belief, or that they can 
doubt of them. They whose office it is to instruct others, preachers and 
directors, ought to be filled with this gift. It has been conspicuous in 
fathers and doctors, and it is especially necessary for rightly comprehend- 
ing the sense of Holy Scripture, its allegorical figures, and the ceremonies 
of divine worship. . . . The fruit of the Holy Spirit which corresponds 
with this gift, as well as with others which enlighten the mind, is the fruit 
of Faith. Faith precedes gifts, and is their foundation, but gifts, in turn, 
perfect Faith. We must firmly believe, says Saint Augustine, and estab- 
lish ourselves firmly in that pious affection which is so necessary to 
Faith. Then the gifts of the Holy Spirit come, and render Faith more 
penetrating, more lively, and more perfect. . . . 

Father Louis Lallemant somewhat departs from the order of gifts 
in the text from Isaiah which we have quoted, and considers, as third 
among the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the gift of Science (gnosis). Science, 
he says, is defined to be an assured knowledge acquired by reasoning ; but 
in God it is without reasoning, and by a simple view of objects. The 
gift of Science, which is a participation in the knowledge of God, is a 
light of the Holy Spirit which illuminates the soul to understand human 
things, and to form a true judgment of them in reference to God and so 



EASTERN AND WESTERN PSYCHOLOGY 29 

far as they are objects of faith. The gift of Science assists that of 
Understanding in discovering and apprehending obscure truths, and that 
of Wisdom in possessing them. Wisdom and Science have something in 
common; both bestow the knowledge of God and of creatures. But 
when we know God by means of creatures, and rise from the knowledge 
of second causes to the First Universal Cause, it is an act of Science; 
when we know human things through the experience we have of God, 
and judge of created beings by the knowledge we possess of the Supreme 
Being, it is an act of Wisdom (sophia). The discerning of spirits belongs 
to both one and the other ; but Wisdom possesses it by the way of taste 
and experience, which is a more exalted mode of information; Science 
possesses it by simple knowledge alone. The gift of Science enables us to 
see readily and clearly everything that regards our own conduct and 
that of others. First, what we ought to believe or not believe; what we 
ought to do or not do ; the mean we ought to observe between two ex- 
tremes into which it is possible for us to fall in the exercise of virtues ; 
the order we ought to follow in our study of them ; how much time 
we must give to each in particular; but all this in the general, for as 
regards details, it belongs to the gift of Counsel to prescribe what we 
ought to do under the circumstances in which we find ourselves, and 
on occasions when we have to determine how to act. Secondly, the 
state of our soul, our interior acts, the secret movements of our heart, 
their qualities, their goodness, their malice, their principles, their rnotives, 
their ends and their intentions, their effects and their consequences, their 
merit and demerit. Thirdly, the judgment we ought to form of creatures, 
and the use we ought to make of them in the interior and supernatural 
life; how frail they are and vain, how shortlived, how little capable of 
making us happy, how injurious and dangerous to salvation. Fourthly, 
the mode of conversing and dealing with our neighbor, as respects the 
supernatural end of our creation. By this gift a preacher knows what 
he ought to say to his hearers, and what he ought to urge upon them. 
A director knows the state of the souls he has under his guidance, their 
spiritual needs, the remedies for their faults, the obstacles they put in the 
way of their perfection, the shortest and the surest road by which to 
conduct them safely ; how he must console or mortify them, what God is 
working in them, and what they ought to do on their part in order to co- 
operate with God and fulfil His designs. A superior knows in what way 
he ought to govern his inferiors. They who have the largest share of 
the gifts of Science are the most enlightened in all knowledge of this 
kind. Wonderful things are disclosed to them with respect to the prac- 
tice of virtues. They discover therein degrees of perfection unknown to 
others. They perceive at a glance whether actions are inspired by God 
and conformable to His designs ; let them deviate ever so little from the 
ways of God, they discern it at once. They remark imperfections where 
others cannot see them ; they are not liable to be deceived in their opin- 
ions, neither are they apt to allow themselves to be surprised by illusions 



30 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

with which the whole world is filled. If a scrupulous soul applies to 
them, they know what to say to remove its scruples. If they have to 
make an exhortation, whether to monks or nuns, thoughts will occur to 
them suited both to the spiritual needs of the religious themselves and to 
the spirit of their order. If difficulties of conscience are proposed to 
them, they will give an admirable solution. Ask them for the reason of 
their reply, they cannot tell you, because they know it without reasoning, 
by a light superior to all reason. . . . We are so full of illusions, and so 
little on our guard against the fascinations of creatures, that we deceive 
ourselves continually. The devil deceives us also frequently. His device 
for entrapping the more advanced is to make them fall into error in 
their choice of the means of perfection ; and he deceives the least perfect 
and the tepid by presenting difficulties to their minds in an exaggerated 
state, and by displaying before their eyes the attractions of pleasure and 
the false brilliancy of vain honours. The science of the Holy Spirit 
teaches us how to preserve ourselves from these seductions. . . In order 
that intercourse with men may not be hurtful to us, in the functions 
which we exercise in their regard to gain them to God, we must observe 
that our life ought to be a mixture of action and contemplation, in such 
wise that the former may be animated, directed, and ordered by the 
latter ; that among the exterior works of the active life, we may always 
enjoy the interior repose of the contemplative ; and that our employment 
may not hinder our union with God, but rather serve to bind us more 
closely and more lovingly to Him ; making us embrace them in Him by 
contemplation, and in our neighbour by action. . . Let us take as our 
model, Jesus Christ, who devoted thirty years to the contemplative life, 
and three or four only to that which is called mixed; and God Himself, 
whose life, before time began, was purely contemplative. His sole occu- 
pation being the knowing and loving of Himself. In time, indeed, He 
acts externally, but after such a manner, that action bears scarcely any 
proportion to contemplation; and in eternity when time is ended, He 
will give Himself still less to action, seeing that He will no longer create 
new creatures. To make much progress in perfection two things are 
necessary, one on the part of the master, the other on the part of the 
disciple. In the master, that he should be greatly enlightened with the 
gift of Science, as was Saint Ignatius ; in the disciple, that he should have 
a will perfectly subject to grace, and a great courage, like Saint Francis 
Xavien . . . An excellent means of acquiring the gift of Science is to 
study greatly purity of heart ; to watch carefully over our own interior, 
to mark all its irregularities, and note its principal faults. Such strict- 
ness will draw down the blessing of God, who will not fail in time to 
pour His lights into the soul, and will give it little by little the knowledge 
of itself, which is the most useful He can impart to us next to that of 
His divine majesty. This is the first study in the school of perfection. 
The vice which is opposed to the gift of Science is ignorance. . . . 

So far Lallemant's analysis of the gift of Science. He comes next 



EASTERN AND WESTERN PSYCHOLOGY 31 

to the gift of Counsel (boule) : Counsel is an act of prudence prescribing 
the means to be chosen for attaining an end. Thus the gift of Counsel 
regards the direction of the particular actions. It is a light by which the 
Holy Spirit shows what we ought to do in the time, place and circum- 
stances in which we find ourselves. What Faith, Wisdom and Science 
teach in general, the gift of Counsel applies to particular cases. And it is 
easy to perceive its necessity, since it is not enough to know that a thing 
is good in itself ; we have also to judge whether it is good under actual 
circumstances, whether it is better than something else, and more suited 
to the object we are aiming at ; and this knowledge we acquire by the 
gift of Counsel. . . . Purity of heart is an excellent means of obtaining 
the gift of Counsel, as well as the other gifts already treated of. A 
person of good sound judgment who should study constantly purity of 
heart, would acquire a supernatural prudence and a divine skill in con- 
ducting all sorts of affairs, would receive an abundance of infused light 
and knowledge for the guidance of souls, and discover a thousand holy 
contrivances for the execution of enterprises which concern the glory 
of God. . . . 

We may sum up the Western analysis of "the gifts of the Holy 
Spirit that perfect our understanding," by a brief quotation from another 
doctor, the Belgian, Father Bronchain. We shall come later to the three 
gifts of the Holy Spirit "that perfect our will." 

Father Bronchain writes: These gifts may be viewed as the light 
with which the Holy Ghost enlightens us, and which is diversified accord- 
ing to the effects He wishes to produce in us. Thus Wisdom is an experi- 
mental knowledge of God, which enables us to taste and to judge accord- 
ingly of all created things. Understanding causes us to behold as if in 
full daylight the truths of faith. Knowledge makes known to us in 
general the means of sanctifying ourselves, and Counsel enables us to 
apply them to our conduct in particular cases. 

Or we may sum up in terms of our simile, the growth into a new 
life in the free air of the spirit, after our emergence from the water- 
life of the psychical world. The gifts of the Holy Spirit are, then, the 
lights shed on us from the spiritual Life above us, which enable us to 
realize our relation to that Life, and gain stability, strength and con- 
tinued growth in the new life of sunlight which we have entered. 

Let us now turn to the Eastern Wisdom. We saw that Father Louis 
Lallemant, our French doctor, in one passage lays special stress on the 
use of these gifts as between teacher and pupil, master and disciple. 
The eastern passage which we shall quote, as our basis of comparison, 
applies exactly to that situation. It is in the form of a dialogue between 
a master and a disciple concerning these very gifts. It is taken from a 
treatise called The Crest- Jewel of Wisdom, attributed to the great teacher, 
Shankaracharya, but more probably the work of one of his disciples. 

He is ripe to seek Atma (the Holy Spirit), our passage begins, who 



32 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

is full of Knowledge and Wisdom, Reason and Discernment, and who 
bears the well-known marks. 

He is ready to seek the Eternal who has Discernment (viveka) and 
Dispassion (viraga) ; who has Peace and the other Graces. 

Four perfections are numbered by the wise. When they are present, 
there is victory, but in their absence there is failure. 

First is counted the Discernment between things lasting and unlast- 
ing. Next Dispassion, the ceasing from self-indulgence here and in para- 
dise. Then the Six Graces, beginning with Peace. Then the longing 
for Liberation. 

Such a certainty as this the Eternal is real, the fleeting world is 
unreal this is that Discernment between things lasting and unlasting. 

And this is Dispassion a perpetual willingness to give up all sensual 
self-indulgence everything lower than the Eternal, through a constant 
sense of their insufficiency. 

Then the Six Graces : a steady intentness of the mind on its goal 
this is Peace (shama). 

And the steadying of the powers that act and perceive, each in its 
own sphere, turning them back from sensuality this is Self-control 
(dama). 

Then the raising of the mind above external things this is the true 
Withdrawal (or Silence, uparama). 

The bearing of all ills without petulance or self-pity this is right 
Endurance (titiksha). 

A firm confidence in the teaching and the Teacher this is that 
Faith (shraddha) by which the treasure is gained. 

The intentness of the soul on the pure Eternal this is right Con- 
centration (samadhana), but not the indulgence of phantasy. 

The wish to untie, by discernment of their true nature, all the bonds 
tied by unwisdom, the bonds of selfishness and sensuality this is the 
longing for Liberation (mumukshatva). 

Though at first imperfect, these qualities, gradually growing through 
Dispassion, Peace and the other Graces and the help of the Teacher will 
gain their due reward. 

When Dispassion and the longing for Liberation are strong, then 
Peace and the other Graces will bear fruit. 

But when these two Dispassion and the longing for Liberation 
are lacking, then Peace and the other Graces are a mere mirage, like the 
lake imagined in the desert. 

Chief among the causes of Liberation is devotion, the intentness 
of the soul on its own nature. Or devotion may be called intentness on 
the reality of Atma (the Holy Spirit). 

Let him who possesses these perfections, and who would learn the 
reality of Atma, approach the wise Teacher from whom comes the loosing 
of bonds ; who is full of Knowledge and perfect ; who is not smitten by 
desire, who truly knows the Eternal ; who has found rest in the Eternal, 



EASTERN AND WESTERN PSYCHOLOGY 33 

at peace like a fuelless fire; who is full of selfless kindness, the friend 
of all that lives. Serving the Teacher with devotion and aspiration for 
the Eternal, and finding oneness of heart with him, seek the needed 
Knowledge of Atma. . . . 

As will have been noticed, this passage is an extension of the 
Upanishad passage quoted at the outset, and a commentary on it. It is 
therefore, a close parallel to our quotations from the French doctor, 
commenting on the passage in Isaiah. 

(To be continued.) 



"Love is the river of life in this world. Think not that ye know it 
who stand at the little tinkling rill, the first small fountain. Not until you 
have gone through rocky gorges, and not lost the stream; not until you 
have gone through the meadow, and the stream widened and deepened 
until fleets could ride on its bosom; not until beyond the meadows you 
have come to the unfathomable ocean, and poured your treasures into its 
depths, not until then can you know what love is" 

Henry Ward Beecher. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 



PART III 

IF the German racial claim is without foundation, and the German 
historical claim without substance, the claim that the Alsatians and 
Lorrainers are and always have been, at heart German is equally 

a distortion of the facts. This latter claim is the one most popularly 
held in Germany, and is the result of a carefully fostered propaganda. 
The different types of German claims have issued from different intel- 
lectual centers in Germany, each respectively representing widely vary- 
ing special interests. But the ultimate conclusion was always the same. 
Thus the ethnologists have evolved theories about the skulls and other 
physical characteristics, past and present, of inhabitants of Alsace, in- 
variably tending to prove that Alsatians are racially Teutonic. Politicians 
and historians have been intent on proving that the "German Empire" 
has always possessed Alsace-Lorraine, some dating this from earliest 
times, some not before the 8th or 10th centuries. Finally, poets and 
popular writers have dwelt on the age-old German affinities of these 
peoples, hailing them as brother-Germans, and seeking to convince the 
world, largely because they spoke or wrote in German, that therefore 
their culture is German, and they are and always have been German. 

This last claim, its chief basis being the fact that the Alsatians do 
speak and write a Germanic language, carries great weight with many 
people: but actually it is an argument beside the point, and which only 
beclouds the real question by diverting attention from the essential facts 
involved. The scientific unreliability of the language test when applied 
to races of people, has already been discussed. Nevertheless, to prove 
the language test unreliable is not positive disproof of Germany's claims, 
and this quite manifestly in view of the fact that Alsatians must have 
been at least in contact with Germans, in order to learn to speak any 
German, even if only a dialect. 

It should always be remembered, however, that it is facts, and not 
theories, which establish the truth. And there are certain facts which 
one and all of the different German claimants either omit completely, or 
distort. The first of these is quite simple. Alsatians, in history, are 
first and foremost Alsatians. They are not Germans. They are not 
even Frenchmen. They are Alsatians. Today the Alsatian thinks and 
speaks of himself first and foremost as an Alsatian, then as a French- 
man, because his whole soul goes out to France and feels itself united 
with the French national spirit and consciousness. Bretons were Bretons, 
Normans were Normans, Provinc,ales were Provinc.ales for centuries 
before their spirit became amalgamated with French national conscious- 
ness as we now see it. Alsatians have been undergoing the same process, 
only because they were border peoples, frequently conquered and op- 

14 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 35 

pressed by alien armies, that process of unification has not affected them 
with the same completeness in certain specific respects. But in all the 
essentials, that is, in their national aspirations and predilection, in their 
ideals, even in their qualities of intellect and character, they are French. 
They show, to be sure, the stamp of close contact and interchange with 
the German people, they show that there is German blood in their veins 
(which may be traced also in the Normans), they show the impress of 
German ideas and methods. So also do the Provingales show the im- 
press of Italian characteristics, as do Pau and Biarritz those of Spain. 
But Marseilles is French, and Pau and Biarritz are French, and Alsace is 
French. They speak Breton in Brittany and Provingales in Provence, 
and Spanish in the Pyrennees, and Swiss dialects in Savoy, and Alsatian 
in Alsace. They do not speak German in Alsace unless forced to at 
the sword's point. They speak Alsatian ; another fact overlooked by 
German claimants. 

Such facts as these, with many like them, the German claimants 
ignore. I should say the more recent German claimants. Because what 
the German means when he claims a man as a fellow-German has varied 
with the speaker, and with the decade, almost the year in which he 
speaks. Most of the claims to Alsace-Lorraine developed during the 
last half of the nineteenth century, during the preparation for, and after, 
the War of 1870. Before the successes of that War, German historians 
and writers were under no delusions about Alsatians or Lorrainers. The 
question was hardly raised, because there was no motive, as yet, for 
raising it. Alsace had been French for more than two hundred and 
twenty years beyond dispute. To be sure Germany had started annex- 
ing French territory as early as 1815, Treaty of Vienna; but it was a 
small and unsatisfactory amount that she got then. She aspired for 
more, as is revealed by the remarks of the King of Wiirtemberg to Bis- 
marck in 1846: "We must have Strasbourg. The heart of the matter is 
Strasbourg. As long as she is not German, the states of South Germany 
will not be able to share the political life of Germany." 1 But the feeling 
of Strasbourg itself is revealed a few years later by Kirschlager, a 
professor of the city, who stated to a German congress of naturalists at 
Speyer, the actual feeling of that time. Replying to the statement that 
Alsace "must be returned to the confederation," he said : "You ought at 
least to ask if we have any desire to return to you. . . . We wish to 
remain Frenchmen." 

Substantially, the inception of modern German claims to Alsace- 
Lorraine lies in the attempted justification of the seizure of 1871. Mili- 
tary "necessity" dictated that seizure ; and the reasons adduced to ac- 
count for this act of robbery still further becloud the true question as 
to the affinities of these border peoples. To clarify the complexities of 
the issue, a thorough understanding of this background of 1870, and 



1 This and the next quotation are taken from Ch. D. Haren's excellent book, Alsace-Lorraine 
Under German Rule, p. 91. No sources are given. But compare Bismarck's speech in the 
Reichstag for May 2nd, 1871, p. 518, col. 1 where he quotes the king to the same effect. 



36 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

also of certain other unescapable facts, is essential. To determine whether 
the Alsace-Lorrainers are at heart pro-French or pro-German, we must 
examine first what prompted the German claims, and whether those 
claims are scientific that is, whether they are complete, unbiased, ac- 
curate. Second, we must examine what it is that Germans are, to see 
if the Alsace-Lorrainers are like them; also what the French, and France, 
are, in the same way and for the same reasons. Finally we must 
examine what Alsace-Lorrainers think of themselves, and what their 
literary, artistic, and psychologic characteristics have been throughout 
history. The result would then have definiteness in the measure of our 
success in precisely determining each of the above factors. A separate 
section will be given to the discussion of each of these subheads. 

SECTION I. 

THE ORIGIN OF GERMAN CLAIMS TO ALSACE-LORRAINE 

Before 1870 German claims to Alsace-Lorraine were vague and of 
a general character. The forced capitulation of Strasbourg back in 1681 
had brought forth protests, notably two furious pamphlets in Latin by 
one Schrag, written in 1707-08. 1 But as the Emperor's claim was a 
disputed one at the best, and as the real loss, such as it was, lay with 
Strasbourg, which chose to give up its independence in lieu of a worse, 
impending, fate, these claims never received a serious hearing. One 
year later, in 1709, Schmettan, the Russian Ambassador to the Court 
of Louis, wrote: "It is well known that the Alsatians are more French 
than the Parisians themselves," 2 so opinions differed, with the vantage 
of evidence as usual resting with the French, while to the Germans must 
be awarded the prize for rhetorical fervor and scurrility. 

Goethe, studying for a while at Strasbourg, greatly admired the 
beauty of the Alsatian country, which he describes as "Alsatian semi- 
French," a foreign country, full of foreign and peculiar characteristics. 
Dr. Salzmann, a friend of his in residence, points out that Strasbourg is 
much more French than German ; they are, he says, above all things 
a practical-minded people, not "seeking the wide intellectual horizon that 
is the dream in German Universities." 3 

But where the traveler Goethe recognized fundamental differences 
between even such near-by Germans as himself, who came from Frank- 
fort, and Alsatians, with their strong pro-French affinities, the politicians 
continued to cry out at the robbery of Louis XIV, and to rhapsodize about 
the age-long German traditions and feelings of the alienated provinces, 
even of Lorraine. Goethe wrote of 1770; before him, Frederick the 



1 Libertas Argentoratensium stylo Rysircenci non expuncta, and Nullitas vniquiiasqut 
reunionis Alsaticat. 

1 Quoted, p. 18, by M. Daniel Blumenthal in his little study of Alsace-Lorraine, from Georges 
Weill Alsace French from 1789 to 1871. No better work has appeared than this latter study, 
covering the period. It is even more satisfactory than Reuss. 

* H'akrbeit und Dichtung aus meinen Leben. See the whole of chaps, ix, x, and xi. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 37 

Great, writing in 1738, with fine irony, said: "Nevertheless, the course 
of events has revealed that love of peace alone has obliged His Majesty 
[Louis XIV] to accept Lorraine, and to rid Germany of a province which 
in very truth has belonged to her from time immemorial, but which 
had been a burden to her [!], in view of its isolated and inconvenient 
location. Moreover, to establish peace on a solid foundation, it was 
a positive necessity that Lorraine should be ceded to France, because 
she would be able to furnish frequent causes for- embroilments, and 
because, still more, France should be indemnified for the expenses of the 
war ; which things being carefully considered, make very clear that the 
King has entirely fulfilled the positive engagements which he had under- 
taken in his manifesto." 1 

After the defeat of Napoleon, and the Treaty of Vienna, a new 
patriotism arose in Germany, Baron von Stein and his work having 
already been referred to. The poet Arndt wrote a famous pamphlet The 
Rhine, Germany's River, but not Germany's Boundary, 2 which, in view 
of the action of the Alsatian populace during the French Revolution, 
was more the expression of a desire, than the statement of a fact. For 
Alsatian soldiers defended the new Republic from hostile attacks of 
Austrian and German princes, and the Alsatian National Guard set up 
in the middle of the bridge over the Rhine a tri-coloured flag which bore 
the inscription: "Here begins the Land of Liberty." Nevertheless Ger- 
many was profoundly stirred by Arndt's poem, and despite the fact that 
the Rhine had been a natural boundary since the time of Caesar, the 
whole country responded to his appeal that not Alsace alone, but the 
Moselle, the Meuse, and the Sarre should "return" to the Fatherland. 
Another poet, Becker, wrote The German Rhine ; while even William 
the First, then a Prussian Prince and not yet King, wrote some verses 
in the popular vein, reflecting the general temper of the times. He said 
in part : 

"The Rhine must become 
Throughout its entire course 
The possession of the German lands! 
Fling out your banner! 
And you, O people of the Vosges, 
And of the forests of Ardennes 
We wish to deliver you 
From the yoke of an alien imposter. 

So that some day your children 
May be Germans 
And may honour the conquerors 
Of their Fathers!" 8 



1 "Considerations Sur 1'Etat Present du Corps Politique de 1'Europe," in Oeuvres dt 
Frtderick le Grand, torn VIII, p. 9; ed. by J. D. E. Preuss. 

a Der Rhein, Detttschlands Strom aber nicht Dentschlands Grense. 
Cf. Hazen, Op. cit., p. 90. 



38 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

These popular expressions of German acquisitive sentiments 
increased with her military victories, and in 1866 Bismarck and Von 
Moltke felt themselves able to begin active preparations for the defeat 
of France. Up to then it had been, however, frankly a question of 
conquest and "rehabilitation." In 1867, three years before the war, 
Bismarck said to Mr. Beatty-Kingston : "Suppose France entirely con- 
quered, and a Prussian garrison in Paris, what are we to do with our 
victory? We could not even decently take Alsace, for the Alsatians are 
become Frenchmen and wish to remain so." * Despite the Pan-German 
propaganda, this statement of the Chancellor but follows the repeated 
admissions of Germans at the time. The fact that Alsace-Lorraine were 
French was widely recognized and perfectly well known. Thus an 
authoritative historian, friend of Bismarck, Heinrich von Sybel, writing 
even after the War, in 1871, said: "We know truly that the Lorrainers, 
since 1776, and the Alsatians, since 1801, have become good Frenchmen, 
and today oppose, by a large majority, the reunion with their Father- 
land." 2 So in like manner Dereichweiler, another well-known German 
historian, says in a long and rhetorical passage that in spite of their 
"Urdeutsche Grand" their "German-to-the-core basis," yet Alsace- 
Lorrainers on their "return" to the German Empire, had become "some- 
thing quite foreign. A transubstantiation had at that time consummated 
their divorce from the Empire. In many respects the outer form had 
remained German, but the Spirit had become different. The French Soul 
had permeated and changed the old Nationality of this land in all its 
imagination, thoughts, and feelings, and in its entire outlook and com- 
prehension." 8 

But presently "military" considerations became of paramount im- 
portance, and the annexationist policy of Bismarck was formed, as it were, 
over-night. Hard upon the heels of victory Bismarck said, "Strasbourg is 
the key of our house, and we will have it," 4 now quite regardless of 
whether he was behaving "decently" towards Alsace, or not. On October 
7, 1870, he said to the Mayor of Versailles: "Germany wants peace and 
will make war until she get it, let the consequences be ever so lamentable 
from a humane point of view. . . . This peace will be secured by 
a line of fortresses between Strasbourg and Metz." 5 . . . 

Having determined just how far he could go, Bismarck said the day 
after Paris capitulated : "As you see, we are keeping Metz ; but I confess 
I do not like that part of the arrangement. Strasbourg is all very well. 
Strasbourg is German in speech, and will be so in heart ten years hence. 
Metz, however, is French, and will be a hotbed of disaffection for a long 
time to come." (Op. cit., p. 98). Bismarck admitted that it was the 
pressure of Von Moltke which made him demand Metz, which was 



1 Conversations with Prince Bismarck, collected by Heinrich von Poschinger, p. 86. 

2 "Deutschlands Recht auf Elsass und Lothringen," in Kleine Historische Schriften, iii, p. 457. 
* Geschichte Lothringens, vol. II, pp. 630, 631. 

4 The Life of Prince Bismarck, by William Jacks, p. 352. 
8 Conversations, by Poschinger, p. 25. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 39 

"two miles beyond the linguistic frontier," and he said : "The Emperor 
has too many foreigners for subjects as it is. We have had more than 
enough trouble with our Poles, though they have been benevolently 
governed, God knows! And we shall have still more with these Lor- 
rainers, who hate us like poison, and will have, very likely, to be roughly 
handled ; whereas the good old German Elsdsser will be treated with the 
utmost consideration" 1 

The journal of Heinrich Abeken, chaplain in 1870-71 with King 
William, later the Emperor, reveals clearly and with sentimental German 
cant the court feeling about these provinces, as also the military "neces- 
sity" ( expediency) which tore them from France. He wrote in his 
journal November 29th, 1870: "The fruits of victory must be the security 
of Germany against future wars, which can only be assured by obtaining 
Alsace-Lorraine, Strasbourg and Metz; and, with this material result, 
the moral satisfaction to our people that these old German lands are 
returned to us. It would be a crime against the moral systems of the 
world if the theft committed by the French were not expiated, not made 
good again. It would be a crime against the children themselves if they 
were not brought, even against their will, to their real mother, the old 
home, but were left to their French step-mother and her corrupt influ- 
ences. Not only our grandchildren, but their grandchildren, will thank 
us for educating them as Germans." 2 

On May 2nd, 1871, Bismarck rose in the Reichstag to explain the 
plans of the Imperial 'Government about Alsace-Lorraine. Speaking 
with his usual irony, he yet reveals the consummate skill with which 
he, as was his habit, fitted the facts at will into his theories and wishes. 
Perhaps no man in modern history followed more completely Mark 
Twain's advice, "Get your facts first, and then you can distort 'em as 
much as you please." After presenting the problem, which was not, as 
might have been supposed, the best and most accommodating way of 
pacifying and incorporating the newly stolen provinces, but rather that 
of creating a defence for an endangered Fatherland, he suggested that 
one proposition had been to create a neutral state, similar to Belgium 
and Switzerland. This suggestion received applause (cries of sehr gut!) 
but Bismarck continued that as a peace-proposition "This supposition 
of such newly-to-be-created neutrals, Alsace and Lorraine, would not 
have been realized during the immediate future ; rather it is to be expected 
that the strong French element would remain for a long time in the land, 
with its interests, sympathies, and recollections all attached to France; 
so that these neutral States might indeed at any time obtain their own 
sovereignty, induced by a new Franco-German War, and thus be joined 
again to France. Such neutrality would be for us nothing more than a 
pernicious phantom, and for France a useful one. There remains there- 
fore no other alternative but to bring this strip of land, with its strong 



1 Loc. cit., Cf. The London Daily Telegraph, Aug. 31, 1898. 

'Bismarck's Pen: Life of Heinrich Abeken from his Letters and Journal, ed. by his wife. 
P. 314 of authorized translation by Barrett-Lennard and Hoper. 



40 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

fortifications, completely into German power, so that she may herself, 
as a strong glacis, defend Germany against France. . . . It is not my 
task to examine here the causes which have made it possible that an 
age-old [urdeutsche again] German population could possibly have 
become attached to a country with a foreign language, and with a govern- 
ment not always benevolent and considerate. Some reason must lie 
behind the fact that exactly those qualities which distinguish the German 
from the Frenchman, are precisely embodied in the Alsatian people; so 
much so that these people, with respect to thrift and love for law and 
order, formed a kind of aristocracy in France. They were more capable 
for administrative office, more reliable in state service, and were worthy 
representatives of the military and civil authorities. In government 
offices there were far more Alsatians and Lorrainers than the proportion 
of the population would warrant. It was exactly these one and a half 
million Germans who were able to use all these prerogatives of the 
German character in the midst of a people that had other prerogatives, 
but who were wanting in just these qualities." * 

Anyone who has followed the progress of Bismarck's thought will 
see how wilfully misleading every word of the above speech was, for 
he has by this time the audacity to maintain that even all the French- 
speaking Lorrainers, let alone the Alsatians, were Germans, and this but 
a few weeks after he has made provision for the turbulence he expected 
from the French populations of Metz and other wholly French centers. 
For the population of the ceded provinces was a little more than one and 
a half millions, just the figure cited by Bismarck, so he included them all. 

That unlooked-for success had definitely made up Bismarck's mind 
for him on the Alsace-Lorraine question cannot be denied ; but his actual 
treatment of them belied his every word about their German affinities. 
When in 1874, in the Reichstag, the Alsatian deputy from Mulhouse 
protested against the financial support given to the old French University 
of Strasbourg on the grounds that it had become "the head and center 
for the speedy Germanizing of Alsace-Lorraine . . . the bulwark of 
the Kulturkatnpfe" Bismarck rose to speak. There had been applause 
when the deputy had cried, "In Alsace-Lorraine, gentlemen, we under- 
stand by Freedom the protection of the Rights of the individual man 
(Bravo!), the Rights of the family, the rights of the Commonwealth 
against the omnipotence of the State." To this Bismarck, with brutal 
frankness and cynical wit replied that though he and the deputy talked 
in German, yet they spoke in different languages, so far apart were their 
platforms. "The* previous speaker has demonstrated in the sharpest 
manner this Incommensurable between our standpoints, which he has 
just presented to us, namely, that by investing in the University of 
Strasbourg, we have had the interests of the Empire, and not the interests 
of Alsace-Lorraine, in mind. I can pursue, of course, solely the interests 
of the Empire; and I hope that the Alsatians will in time arrive at the 

1 Verhondlung det Dtutsche* Rtichstogs, 1871, 1st vol., May 2nd, p. 519, col. 1. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 41 

point where they will look upon the interests of the Empire as their 
own. . . . 

"We have conquered these lands in the interests of the Empire in a 
righteous war, in a defensive war, where we had to protect our skins; 
our fighters did not pour out their blood for Alsace-Lorraine, but for the 
German Empire, for its unity, for the defense of its frontiers. We 
have taken these lands to ourselves, so that the French at their next 
assault which God grant to put far off, but which they are already 
planning, may not have the advance-post of Wissemburg as their start- 
ing point, but rather that we may have in them (i. e. these lands) a 
Glacis, behind which (auf dem) we can defend ourselves, before they 
get to the Rhine." 1 Alsatians have never forgotten the fact that though 
they were such model Germans, yet their country served as a glacis 
behind which Germany might rest secure against an avenging France. 
They are today, and have been for four years, just such a glacis, to 
their own immeasurable sorrow. 

The policy of Bismarck has on the face of it no consistency where 
right and wrong, truth and falsehood, are concerned. He had but one 
policy the attainment of power, on his own terms, and in his own way 
quite regardless of decent behaviour, or of the least qualm about letting 
"the consequences be ever so lamentable from a humane point of view." 
He knew that "the Alsatians had become Frenchmen and wished to 
remain so," and he did not care in the slightest for them or their senti- 
ments. His every utterance and act, however, betray the fact that 
Alsatians and Lorrainers were French heart and soul in 1870, which 
for our purpose is the point to be demonstrated. The only excuse that 
he, and other Germans, could furnish for home consumption, was to 
resort to the urdeutsche racial theory, claiming that this age-old German 
folk would quickly revert to their ancestral type, if once freed from the 
pernicious and corrupting influence of their "step-mother," France. 

This racial theory has already been exposed. The Alsatians and 
Lorrainers, as far as blood was concerned, were as mixed as every other 
national group in Europe, and rather more so than the Germans. What 
proportion of Teutonic blood there was, was distinctly subordinate to 
the Celto-Roman-Frankish admixtures. Racially, Alsatians who speak 
Alsatian more than French are a conglomerate people; and traced to 
earliest days were Celt and not Teuton. 

As for characteristics and national proclivities, that question bears 
analysis. There have been Teutons in Alsace since 59 B. C., and they 
have affected the temper and disposition of the people. It becomes a 
question of comparison, of determining precisely what are the funda- 
mental distinctions between French and German. But it should be 
remembered that the burden of proof rests with the German side of the 
question, because it was to France that Alsatians and Lorrainers turned. 



1 Verhandlungen des Deutschen Reichstags, 1874-5, Zwcite Session, Vol. I, November 30th, 
1874. Pp. 390, col. 2; 392, col. 1; and 393, col. 1. 



42 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

The course of mediaeval history in central Europe is complex enough, 
and a decision on such a problem will always be disputed ; but there are 
certain characteristics of the German people from urdeutsche days on, 
which are evident to anyone who chooses to compare the development 
of that people with the development of the Frenchman or English- 
man or Italian, and to my thinking the Alsatian. The Alsatian is 
first and foremost himself, just as the Frenchman or the Englishman 
is himself. And when Bismarck and German historians talk of Alsatians 
being German they can only mean that they are German because a 
proportion (they would say a vastly superior and more numerous 
proportion) of Teutonic tribesmen at one time over-ran, conquered, 
and inhabited an alien population. If they claim that this conquest 
decisively Germanized the country, the burden of proof again rests 
with the Germans. So much has been written in glowing and roseate 
terms about the ancient Germans that many people today have completely 
lost any accurate idea of what they were like. To determine, therefore, 
whether the Alsatian and Lorrainer of olden days was German or French, 
it is necessary to rediscover what those famous German grandfathers 
were like, and to estimate accurately in what way they were superior to 
Frenchmen in history, that is, in fact and outside of modern German 
histories about them. A. G. 

(To be continued) 



"Nothing cramps the freedom of the soul in a greater degree than 
the fear of what others will think and say. The first thing to be done 
after taking the narrow way is to shut the world out of consideration, and 
look only to the approval of God." Archbishop Ullathorne. 



THE CRUSADES 



BETWEEN the Crusading movement and the great economic 
changes which took place in Europe, beginning with the llth 
century, a direct line of cause and effect is more or less obviously 
apparent. The rapid growth of important trade routes, and 
trading centres, the beginning of the modern financial system, the com- 
plete over-turning of the old social order all the various economic devel- 
opments of the time, can be traced back to some immediate and tangible 
cause. With regard to the intellectual, moral and spiritual results of the 
Crusades, however, the situation is very different. That there were such 
results, nay, that Europe experienced a most remarkable intellectual awak- 
ening, is beyond question. But to start from this fact and attempt to 
trace the connection back to some source in Eastern thought and teaching, 
is possible only in the broadest and most general manner. 

The Crusades are probably more familiar to everyone when taken 
from the Western point of view, the following brief outline of which 
may serve as a reminder: 

1095-1101 1st Crusader 

1145-1147 2nd Crusade, headed by Louis VII. 
1188-1192 3rd Crusade (Philip Augustus and Richard Coeur de 
Leon). 

1204 4th Crusade (seizure of Constantinople). 

1217 5th Crusade (including the conquest of Damietta). 

1228-1229 6th Crusade (Frederick II. taking part). 

1249-1252 7th Crusade (led by St. Louis). 

1270 8th Crusade (also under St. Louis). 

From the standpoint of activities in Palestine, the movement falls 
into three general divisions: 1st, the foundation of the Christian states in 
the East; 2nd, their overthrow and the attempts to restore them, lasting 
to the time of the Crusade against Constantinople; 3rd, the numerous 
and confused expeditions of the 13th, 14th and later centuries, during 
which the Christian states were lost once and for all. 

The vanguard of the first Crusade, a rabble horde without equipment 
or provision, headed by Peter the Hermit and Walter the Penniless, were 
helped across the Bosphorus, with all speed, by Alexius, the Byzantine 
Emperor. No sooner had they reached Asia Minor, there to be ruth- 
lessly slaughtered by the enemy than Constantinople was confronted with 
the alarming hosts of the better-organized bodies of Crusaders. Godfrey 
of Bouillon, at the head of those from Lorraine and the north of France ; 
Raymond, Count of Toulouse, and the Papal legate, Adhemar, Bishop 
of Puy, at the head of the southern French ; and Bohemond and Tancred, 
leading the Normans of southern Italy, were the principal figures in this 

43 



44 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Crusade. Far from aiding them, as might have been hoped for, Alexius 
treated with them only long enough to secure their promise to return to 
him, from any conquests they might make, such of his territory as had 
recently been wrested from him. Then he hastened them, too, in their 
passage to Asia Minor. The picture is the reverse of the more usual tales 
of the days of chivalry : weighed down by their trappings, particularly their 
heavy leather armor covered with iron scales ; travelling in excessive heat, 
through a hostile country where food and water were almost unobtain- 
able and where the horrors of famine were still further augmented by 
plague and pestilence, their sufferings, if only from the physical stand- 
point, were intense. Added to this was the difficulty before mentioned 
insubordination and utter lack of discipline in the ranks ; pride and 
haughtiness and lack of unity among the chiefs. The story of their strug- 
gles is a long one but, in the end, Count Baldwin, who had married an 
Armenian princess, was proclaimed Lord of the Couritship of Edessa ; 
Bohemond, after a prolonged quarrel with the other leaders, remained in 
possession of the conquered city and principality of Antioch ; Raymond 
seized the Countship of Tripoli, and the remaining chiefs and their fol- 
lowers advanced to the siege of Jerusalem. 

The conquest of this latter city presents a curious mixture of piety 
and blood-thirstiness. It began on the 14th of July, 1099, with a solemn 
procession, all the Crusaders marching barefooted round the walls. The 
following day the city was taken, and the most revolting scenes of blood- 
shed ensued, the crusaders slaying and burning its inhabitants wholesale, 
dashing young babies against the walls or hurling them over the battle- 
ments, hacking to pieces men, women and children, till it is said the horses 
were knee-deep in blood. In the midst of this carnage, Godfrey of 
Bouillon entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre barefooted and bare- 
headed and in a white robe, and was solemnly proclaimed "Defender of 
the Holy Sepulchre," considering the title of King of Jerusalem too 
high an honour to bear. The title was assumed by his brother Baldwin 
of Edessa, however, on Godfrey's death in 1100. 

By 1153, the Christian colonists had reached the height of their 
power in the East, their conquests extending without a break from the 
Euphrates to the Egyptian border and including the four almost inde- 
pendent principalities of the four successful chiefs. Furthermore, in 
wealth and prosperity they eclipsed even the greatest of the cities of the 
homeland, for in the conquered principalities were some of the richest 
trading centres. 

From that time on, however, the Christian settlers suffered nothing 
but reverses. One by one, the states were attacked and conquered by the 
surrounding Mohammedan rulers, each new loss rousing in the Europeans 
at home some echo of the early crusading spirit. In 1146, had come the 
expedition led by King Louis VII., with its very discouraging results, 
ending in his withdrawal and return to France. The year 1169 marked 
the appearance of the justly-famed Saladin, who, as Grand Vizier of 



THE CRUSADES 45 

Egypt, brought order out of the chaos in which Mohammedan countries 
had been thrown by the ending of the Fatimite dynasty and the struggle 
over the succession. By his gallant fighting, Saladin reduced the Chris- 
tians to the bare possession of Tyre, Antioch and Tripoli. This was 
immediately followed by the Crusade against Acre, with its two years' 
siege, in which princes of the first rank engaged, among others the 
German, Frederick Barbarossa and his son, Frederick of Suabia. Large 
fleets came from both Scandinavia and England. And it was during 
this siege that Richard Coeur de Leon the hero of so many romantic 
tales and Philip Augustus of France joined the expedition, it being on 
the return from Acre, that King Richard suffered his humiliating captivity 
in the dungeons of the Duke of Austria. 

The next Crusade started in the usual way and ostensibly with the 
usual intention, but, on the voyage from Italy, it was turned against the 
Greeks of Constantinople. The excuse for this lay in an appeal for aid, 
made by the Byzantine Emperor whose throne had just been usurped; 
but the real reason for it was more probably the fact that the Greeks of 
this region had long been suspected of causing, to some extent at least, 
the failure of the earlier Crusades if not by actual sins of commission, 
then by sins of omission. After seizing the city, ruthlessly sacking the 
Churches, and carrying off great treasure, the crusaders placed on the 
throne Baldwin, Count of Flanders, who was kept in a continual state of 
warfare by the Bulgarians, the Lombards of Thessalonica and the Greeks 
of Asia Minor. It was at this time that the great wave of Mongol 
invasion swept over Asia and threatened Europe, and, practically wiping 
out the Asiatic kingdom of Kharizm, sent ten thousand Kharizmians in 
flight to Egypt where they still further added to the military strength of 
the Sultan. 

During this period of a hundred years or more, the crusaders, partly 
by means of the great avenues of trade, had been living in close touch 
with the civilizations of the East. Round them on every side were 
Greeks, Armenians, Syrians, Egyptians, Arabs, Turks and the other 
numerous peoples of the southwestern Asiatic countries. In addition to 
this they must have come in contact with Persia, India and China, as 
well, with all their wealth of ancient learning and their national 
spiritual heritage. Beside the trading which was naturally carried on 
between the Palestinian markets and the farther East, the Church opened 
up still another avenue. Certain of the priests conceived the idea of. 
substituting for the Crusades, the peaceful conversion of the infidel to 
Christianity, and by what was known as the Great Art a universal 
system for the study of languages it was planned to equip missionaries 
adequately for "discussion with the learned doctors of other faiths." 
Missionaries were sent to the Mongol Empire, and into Persia, India, 
Central Asia and southern China one more point of contact with influ- 
ences which could scarcely fail to have a profoundly far-reaching effect. 

It is difficult for us, accustomed as we are to the wide range of specu- 



46 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

lation of modern thought and the easy, indifferent tolerance of the present 
day toward any and every point of view, to put ourselves back into the 
narrow, rigid dogmatism of the Middle Ages, with its fixed ideas regard- 
ing the conduct of this life, and of heaven, hell and the life after death. 
But for one brought up in such an age, imagine the effect of discussions 
with the learned doctors of the Buddhist faith, for instance what 
illimitable possibilities must have been opened up by its indifference, even 
contempt for this earth-life, by its effacement of the time-divisions of 
Past, Present and Future, and its endeavor to live in and for Eternity. 

Or if it be China rather than India, what must have been the effect 
omitting all mention of her Sacred Books and the teachings of Confucius 
what must have been the effect of Lao Tze's doctrine of nothingness 
or inaction, his practice of complete detachment and dissociation from 
earthly things, and his recognition of the fact that the whole purpose of 
life is the worship and service of what he calls the Tao, its only worth- 
while goal, union with the Tao (the one Eternal Reality). Place on the 
one side the materialistic god, the materialistic devil and the materialistic 
heaven and hell of Mediaeval Catholicism, and contrast with this the 
teaching of Lao Tze : 

"All things are backed by the Unmanifest and faced by the Manifest. 
That which unifies them is the immaterial Breath." "He will go back 
to the All-perfect. He who, knowing Glory, at the same time continues 
in humility, will be a universal valley. As a universal valley the Eternal 
virtue will fill him. He will revert to the original Simplicity." 

Lao Tze's doctrine was one of quiescence ; of absence of desire ; of 
refraining from speech or action, as the cause of all evil ; of restraining 
the senses and thereby permitting virtue to possess the entire being and 
the great power of human thought to take effect. 

But more immediately at hand than the religion of either India or 
China, was that of the Mohammedans, with which the Christians must 
have come into closest contact every day. In view of the fact that they 
had come to the Holy Land filled with fanatical intolerance toward that 
faith in particular, they were probably little affected by its externalities 
and outward forms, but it is in the inner life of a religion, the spirit 
animating it, that its actual power lies, and in the Sufis, one sect of the 
Mohammedans, there is religious life of a beauty and power that must 
have exerted a force all its own. In the words of one of their own num- 
ber, "the Sufis are folk who have preferred God to everything, so that 
God has preferred them to everything." 

"There was a voice that sounded in men and women, in mountains 
and in seas, in the beasts of the jungle and the swinging of the stars. 
It was the Voice of Love, the great beckoning in the Hereafter to which 
all things must go. The Voice to the Sufi was God." 

Their religion is one of love, love of the Beloved and ultimate union 
with Him. They deny any free will or any distinct personality apart 
from Him God is in all things, God is all things : 



THE CRUSADES 47 

"Where'er thou seest a veil . . . 
Beneath that veil He hides. Whatever heart 
Doth yield to love, He charms it. In His love 
The heart hath life. Longing for Him, the soul 
Hath victory." 

Creation was regarded by them as an emanation of the Divine and 
the whole visible world as a reflection of it. From our own point of view, 
it is interesting to note their division of the universe into five worlds : 

1. The "Plane of the Absolute Invisible." 

2. The "Relatively Invisible." 

3. The "World of Similitudes." 

4. The "Visible World (or the plane of Form, Generation and 
Corruption"). 

5. The "World of Man." 

It seems more than possible that the teaching may have actually 
included two more divisions, completing the septenary, particularly as they 
taught seven stages of spiritual development. In each of these stages the 
veil grows thinner, the soul draws nearer to the union with the Beloved, 
more nearly freed from that exile of which one of the Sufi poets writes : 

"Lo, it was hurled 

Midst the sign-posts and ruined abodes of this desolate world. 
It weeps, when it thinks of its home and the peace it possessed, 
W r ith tears welling forth from its eyes without pausing or rest, 
And with plaintive mourning it broodeth like one bereft 
O'er such trace of its home as the fourfold winds have left." 

The teaching that God is in all things, is all things, was soon coupled 
with the corollary "all things are God," a theory which in later centuries 
(the sect began in Persia in the 8th century, A. D.) caused the martyrdom 
of certain of its adherents. One Sufi teacher, in particular, is credited 
with the assertion, "I am God," which reasonably logical conclusion, being 
too much for the endurance of his contemporaries, brought the hapless 
man to an untimely end. The probabilities are, however, that such an 
incident as this is largely to be accounted for by the popular misunder- 
standing which is usually accorded to teachings of a metaphysical char- 
acter. There is little in the Sufi writings that could be regarded as indica- 
tive of a sense of "equality with God" ; certainly, union as a goal to be 
worked toward in reverence, adoration and love is the only suggestion 
in the following representative lines : 

"For the love that thou wouldst find demands the sacrifice of self 
to the end that the heart may be filled with the passion to stand within 
the Holy of Holies, in which alone the mysteries of the True Beloved 
can be revealed unto Thee." 

Beautiful as all these teachings undoubtedly were, what effect did 
they have on the colonists or on Europeans at home? To be sure, of the 



48 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

three great military orders formed when the Christian states so needed 
defence, one order at least, the Knights Templars, was filled with Gnostic 
and Mohammedan beliefs, was later tried by the Inquisition for heresy, 
and eventually was disbanded. But was Europe as a whole affected, and 
if so in what way? There was mysticism in the Mediaeval Church after 
the Crusades, it is true, but there had been mysticism before ; indeed was 
there ever a time in the history of the Church when, no matter how cold 
and dry and hard its outward form may have been, there were not some 
who, in close communion with the Master and inspired by His flaming 
love, kept alive its inner life ? 

As has been said before, a direct connection cannot be proved; but 
there is certainly a strong probability that the contact between East and 
West may have given purpose to the whole crusading movement. Cer- 
tainly from a purely exterior aspect the Crusades accomplished little 
beyond the one result usually given, namely, the staying of the Moham- 
medan invasion till that danger was past. They failed in their purpose 
of seizing and protecting the Holy Places from the infidel. The great 
outburst of religious fervor with which they started, came to an end in 
a comparatively brief time and with small result. But the movement was 
like a wave which, while it spends itself on the sands, nevertheless carries 
as it ebbs, something of all that it has touched, back into the ocean's 
depths. Beyond a doubt there was just such an indrawing from the great 
treasure house of the East, to the immeasurable enrichment of Europe, 
though for the most part in its inner, hidden life, deep beneath the sur- 
face. But as the inner life, not only of the individual but of the nation 
as well, is the direct cause and inspiration of all real outward growth, 
certainly there is a connection, no less clear because indirect, between 
the influences of the East and all the expansion and development in Euro- 
pean life and thought which followed close upon the Crusades. 

After the two expeditions led by St. Louis of France, both of which 
ended in failure, the movement is confused and difficult to follow. For 
several centuries numerous petty princes started out on numerous ex- 
peditions, with but little in the way of achievement to mark their course. 
The old religious zeal was gone, partly because of a more or less natural 
exhaustion, partly because diverted to the Crusades at home (against 
the Albigenses and other sects). The motive now was, in some cases, the 
belief that a great Crusade would be an effectual means of reforming 
Christendom. More often they were actuated merely by political schem- 
ings, as Church and State continued their long struggle for power. 

The true Crusading spirit, however, lived on in the hearts of the 
people. Dating from 1429, there is a poem by Christine de Pisan, 
referring to a belief current at the time, that Jeanne d'Arc, after deliver- 
ing France from the oppressor, would lead a Crusade to the Holy Land : 

"In her conquest of the Holy Land, she will tear up the Saracens 
like weeds. Thither will she lead King Charles whom God defend! 
Before he dies he shall make that journey. He it is who shall conquer 



THE CRUSADES 49 

the land. There shall she end her life. There shall the thing come 
to pass." 

The Maid had laid down her life before the prophecy could be fulr 
filled, but just as her spirit lives on, so the Crusading spirit has lived, 
and lives today. For whether it be in a distant land on the actual firing 
line, or whether it be in defence of that inner "Holy Place" in the heart, 
whoever is fighting today for the Cause of the Master, has "taken the 
Cross" and is in the truest sense of the word a Crusader. 

JULIA CHICKERING. 



"Peace of mind must come in its own time, as the waters settle them- 
selves into clearness as well as quietness; you can no more filter your 
mind into purity that you can compress it into calmness; you must keep 
it pure, if you will have it pure, and throw no stones into it, if you would 
have it quiet." Ruskin. 



IMPRESSIONS OF THE 
CONVENTION 



TO me the recent Convention meant the coming to birth of The 
Theosophical Society, that for which it has long been in travail, 
i. e., the forming of a Universal Brotherhood. It was a council of 
war of brothers, little and big, standing as one, that the Warrior, 
the great Brother Christ, might fight in and for them, in His present 
mighty conflict "for the salvation of the good and the destruction of 
wickedness." These conventions open up vistas that make us bold, for 
this coming to birth at a time of world upheaval of the dominant races, 
born under the ray of the great Western Avatar, can but mean that the 
Society is raised to its heritage and fulfilling of the words of the Maha 
Chohan: "The Theosophical Society was chosen as the cornerstone, the 
foundation of future religions of humanity." We look to where this leads 
and we see it as a preparation of the return of the adept kings and 
crowning all, the reign on earth over men made perfect, of the Maha 
Chohan. A. 

My impressions and feelings regarding the Convention are few, 
chiefly because, during this year's session, I got away from myself to 
an unwonted degree. The impression that remains with me most strongly 
is that of my complete at-oneness, almost self-identification, with the 
spirit of the meetings. Ordinarily, during such a time, my mind is 
engaged in comparing the thoughts expressed with my own opinions on 
the subject, in assenting to some, and dissenting from others, and all too 
often, in going off on some thought-tangent which suggests itself. But 
at this Convention, if the paramount desire of my life had been being 
expressed, I could not have been more at one with it, nor have put into 
it more entirely all my interest, desire and will. My other chief impres- 
sion was one that was new to me, at least in the degree to which it came 
through, an outpouring of love and reverence and gratitude to the 
Masters, which, at one point, overwhelmed me and almost drove me to 
my knees in spite of myself. B. 



My feeling about the Convention was not one feeling but many 
blended into a whole First there was the anticipation of weeks and days, 
ever growing keener as the time drew nearer, and the conviction that 
every one else would come with the same joyful anticipation, and the 
further feeling that all I might hope for in the day, would be a thousand 
times fulfilled. 

As I turned into the Alley, in which the forces that penetrate and 
encircle the world are centered, there came to my mind, the question once 



IMPRESSIONS OF THE CONVENTION 51 

asked me, rather scornfully "You meet in a stable ? " But, as I replied 
then, why not, if The Master of Life felt it not too humble a place in 
which to be born, and to which kings and wise men journeyed from afar, 
to worship and behold The Light of the World? 

Inside the stable, the lilies of silence, the roses of sacrifice, and the 
May day flowers of France, made an exquisite environment of beauty 
and fragrance, silent witnesses of those among us, whose lives are lived 
for the Masters, and who serve mankind without pause or stint, in its 
struggle on the Path towards eternal life. 

One might easier ask, what feelings were left out, than what one's 
feelings were, for I felt in that changing atmosphere of delightful humor 
and solemnity, gladness, gratitude, humility, reverence, and an intense 
desire to be worthy of that noble company, and the Masters whom they 
serve; to keep vividly present in my mind and heart, the spiritual prin- 
ciples, so inspiringly expressed, to strive to make Theosophy live in my 
own life, by waging war within my own nature ; praying for a devoted 
heart and an uncompromising will ready to sacrifice anything and every- 
thing but the vision of beauty, goodness and truth in the world, which 
is the cause for which the Masters ceaselessly labor. C. 



My impression of the Convention, as I think of it, is of flowers, 
most lovely flowers ; of a wit and gaiety that made one light hearted and 
happy; of a sense of being surrounded by comrades, realize^ before the 
Convention was over, as comrades in arms ; and of a teaching that draws 
aside the clouds of human making and reveals a truth of shining, 
passionate beauty. 

There, all that is of beauty in life, all that makes it worth living, 
was held dear. 

v The war, in one sense the keynote of the Convention, was seen in 
all its human anguish, yes, but with all the emphasis laid on the real 
inner meaning: the fight, out in the open at last, between the Powers 
of Light and Darkness. 

There at the Convention, one found the answer to the untold human 
misery and pain and loss. 

As a Frenchman said, "If the men and women and children should 
die in their defence of France, the dead would arise and fight." 

They have arisen! 

For now we know that every life laid down, every deed of endur- 
ance, self-sacrifice, adds a living power for victory to the cause for which 
they stood. 

Much indeed was said of self-sacrifice of its power to take us on 
to the place we long to be, to make possible the service we long to give. 
They say in France the word sacrifice no longer exists. From what one 
hears it seems the word victory must have taken its place. 

The Convention brought the rumble of guns very near, revealed the 
battle line not "Over there" but in the very hearts of men Our hearts ! 



52 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

yours and mine. What is victorious there ? Discouragement, complaints, 
slackness, or are we giving to our uttermost of "Faith, Courage, Con- 
stancy" ? 

And now in a word, what was the Convention all about, what did 
it say? For me at least it sang "For Their Sakes, Courage, Hope, en 
avance!" D. 

As I look back upon the Convention certain things stand out with 
such clearness as to dwarf all other impressions. 

It seemed to me that our leaders, visible and invisible, entered then 
and there upon a new and more momentous phase of the great battle 
for the salvation of humanity : that they flung the gauntlet anew into the 
faces of the powers of evil. I realized as never before their quiet facing 
of the foe with ever-increasing power and determination. There was the 
atmosphere of the eternal there time and space seemed for the moment 
eliminated; the "day was as a thousand years," and plans were being 
made that would affect humanity for ages to come. 

With this came also the feeling of an unusual degree of unity among 
us all a new and deeper understanding and realization of brotherhood 
in its true sense. We, whose high privilege and deep responsibility it 
is to belong in even the humblest way to this great movement felt, it 
seemed to me, an exultant joy that we, too, in spite of our lamentable 
blindness and deadness, were participants in this great struggle ; we, too, 
were co-workers with all that host of the Master's forces all about us. 
Here was a new call to battle: to greater effort, to more complete self- 
sacrifice ; and coupled with it, these watch-words, given for our guidance : 
"faith, courage and constancy." And indeed, as I write them, these seem 
also to have been the watchwords of the Convention. E. 



The T. S. Convention summed up the work of the past year and 
pointed out the work to be done for the coming year. With the Great 
War as its centre many practical hints and suggestions were made and 
the earnestness and sincerity of the speeches gave the inspiration and will 
to carry these out in daily life. As always, the Convention had a serious 
tone, but this year it seemed to give a stronger sense of the real power 
and force behind it, a keener sense of the great work being done and the 
still greater work to be done and the marvelous privilege and opportunity 
to serve the Masters who had given and are giving their all for and to us. 

One felt the drive and power behind the Convention and longed to 
be able to understand more and to help. Particularly encouraging was the 
fact that we in America were behind the lines and that every act and 
thought and word either helped hold the lines in France intact or made an 
opening for the enemy to enter. 

The Convention was a call to arms a plea to pause and consider 
our work of the past, to gather together our forces and to get into the 
fight for a long, persistent and unfaltering attack on the enemy. 



IMPRESSIONS OF THE CONVENTION 53 

One could not speak of the Convention and not mention the atmos- 
phere of brotherliness the real spirit (and not the sentimental, cheap 
brotherhood known to the socialists) and the spirit of joy, happiness, 
humor and good will which prevails at every Convention. E. 



My impressions of the Convention are so little my very own that it is 
difficult to lay hold upon them. For some reason I was strongly reminded, 
at the outset, of the first Convention that I attended, as a very new 
member of the T. S. The room where my first Convention assembled 
was familiar enough, but it seemed to be suspended in a world with which 
I was not in the least acquainted, and I was none too sure that I cared 
to get at closer grips with it, either ; it made such odd demands. During 
the intermission, I recall having heard one of the officers of the Society 
say to another that it was by way of being a very good Convention. Since 
it seemed to me a cut-and-dried and rather uninteresting gathering, I 
took that to be only one of the many jests that were exchanged by the 
officers during the session. Those jokes and asides were in fact the 
only feature of my first Convention onto which I could fasten the name- 
less objections that rose up within me so I busied myself resenting them. 

Looking about at the 1918 Convention, I was convinced that no 
member could have come to it with so little understanding as I had 
brought to the first one. Yet I found myself frequently asking Will they 
(the new comers) see, feel what this speaker is trying to say? Will they 
catch the significance of this little note, thrown in almost as if by chance ? 
Can they keep up with this rapid pace, as speaker after speaker gave what 
was to him the heart of the year's teaching and life? (Incidentally, I 
found that I could not keep up if I persisted in this double line of thought 
and feeling.) Do they understand the jesting; does the depth and reality 
of it all so shine out that the humour and the need for it, is actually felt ? 

I had one neighbor who was a feature of the Convention; it was 
like sitting next to a stone wall on a cold day no sign of any feeling, 
none of that quick sharing of a thought or feeling that moved one : that 
neighbor might have been a complete non-conductor of force of any sort. 
I longed, ardently, for means, any means, of making a hole in that cold 
front so that what came to me might travel on and I might get fully 
into the circulation. What was my surprise, later on, to learn that this 
same neighbor had been moved almost to loss of control ; my stone wall 
nearly toppled. 

A new life, a day in a new life, lived out, completely and joyously, 
before our eyes, was my picture of the Convention. It was as though 
some exalted ruler should invite us to spend a day with him and his 
court just a common, ordinary day in which they all went about their 
ordinary ways of life, but by some magical kindness made clear to us, 
the people from the outer world, what they thought and how they felt 
about the problems with which they had to deal, and about their common 



54 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

responsibilities. It was a day in the real world, lived from the inside, 
not looked at from the outside, with wonder and longing. G. 



The Annual Convention of The Theosophical Society is the greatest 
event in the world. Here one comes for inspiration, for fire and for light 
on every problem in life ; here also one may meet in communion and 
fellowship with members from all parts of the world. 

I was awed by the intensity of joy and sorrow, love and hate with 
which the meetings were vibrant. One had a feeling of being there close 
besides our Elder Brothers, those who are carrying on a hand-to-hand 
battle against all the powers of Hell. One had a feeling, too, of wanting 
to throw oneself completely into this battle, the Master's battle. One 
felt that life is an eternal warfare, and that perfection is the goal. We 
are destined to become Gods. 

The meetings bore indisputable testimony to the joy, power, and 
beauty of self-sacrifice. Power, tremendous power, one felt. 

One felt, too, the unreality of the material world and the beauty and 
nearness of the Spiritual World, and the call of the Master and one's 
Higher self to live the life of the Soul. H. 



It has been the privilege of several members of The Theosophical 
Society to hear a course of talks on Education during Lent of 1918. 

In the mind of one, the point which stands out most clearly is the 
picture presented, of an every-day fact, of a father wishing to and plan- 
ning that his son may have the best possible education, giving the subject 
much time and consideration, so that he may give to him that which will 
best fit him for life, that he may be at ease in all circles, diplomatic, artistic, 
scientific, social, and so on. But quite neglecting the most important, 
furthest reaching side of the boy's education, that which would cultivate 
the Divine in him, would fit him for the spiritual life. Among Angels 
and Saints the boy would be ill at ease, not speaking their language. 

At the Conventions of The Theosophical Society one is reminded of 
all this, for the angels actually inhabit the sphere. They sound a note, 
and that note penetrates into all the crevices of one's being. Gratitude 
was the name of the first positive note which I caught at the Saturday 
morning session of this convention. 

Again in the afternoon gratitude! that the demand is persistent for 
the one and only true aristocracy. And the last note at the evening 
meeting. Gratitude, that the world has been shown the horrors of evil 
in every phase of hideousness, by the Germans. 

And then, I for one, felt fearfully ashamed as I watched others who 
had worked so incessantly. I, not even aware of the work and sacrifices 
that had been endured. But where there is so much gratitude there must 
be a deep cause for it. 

For the QUARTERLY alone, one feels everlastingly grateful; but the 



IMPRESSIONS OF THE CONVENTION 55 

feeling that brings forth tears of shame for having slept while others 
have fought in one's very midst comes from some other source. 

"Noblesse oblige" seems to be the watch-word one takes away this 
year, as "The energy of sacrifice," was of last year. I. 



Comparing this Convention just past with others which I have been 
permitted to attend brings this picture to my mind. Walking down a 
more or less familiar path with some new things to see, then suddenly 
turning a fork in the road and finding realities one had not dreamed of. 
The deep, strong spiritual note that was struck in many of the messages 
brought to us, the gain one felt had been made during the year past. 
Deepening vision, clearer, more comprehensive understanding of the prin- 
ciples for which The Theosophical Society stands in this fight to the 
death between the Black and the White Lodge between evil in its worst 
sense and righteousness as the Masters of Light see it. There was a 
new joy, a feeling of clearer inner understanding, truer Brotherhood in 
the real sense ; an added feeling of the grave responsibility and the 
privilege of our membership. 

Though miles might separate us, a closer standing shoulder to 
shoulder, strengthening our outer wOrk by a greater oneness of inner 
spiritual effort. A new unity of inner understanding of that which is 
taught us and so, greater outer understanding that gave one a glimpse 
of the irresistible power which is ours will we but reach out and grasp 
our opportunity. J. 

Each year I find myself looking forward more eagerly to The Theo- 
sophical Society Convention. One would be glad at any time to attend 
such a warm-hearted gathering of old and tested friends, pervaded with 
courtesy and humour, with its background of beauty, showing outwardly 
in the lovely lilies and roses with which the room is always filled. But 
above all its charm, one is enabled to feel there the reality and nearness 
of the spiritual world. I feel at home there, that it is where I belong, 
that there above all other places is home. 

There is tremendous power there, which all who have occasion to 
speak must feel. "For above man is infinite power and around him is 
infinite need." There the connection is made between the two and those 
who, through some duty, become in however humble a way a channel 
for that force, feel as a young rider feels when mounted on a superb 
thoroughbred. It is not a question of the power of his mount but of his 
ability to ride it. For once one does not lack ideas. They pour in like 
a torrent and our problem is to control and express them. 

It is as if during the Convention a corner of the veil were lifted and 
we see clearly and know as truths of the spiritual world things that 
before had been little more than words to us. 

There is manifest that unity of heart that is the keynote of success. 



56 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Members separated during the year by thousands of miles will see by the 
same light and, each expressing his own truth in his own terms, will 
arrive unerringly at a true interpretation of some current event whose 
real meaning still remains dark to the world at large. There is manifest, 
too, an openness of mind, a freedom from that rigidity of opinion that 
makes the terror of old age. Prejudices long held are freely abandoned 
when a higher truth is presented with which they are incompatible. 

Above all else one realizes there the infinite importance and power 
of right thought and understanding. One sees that in truth a handful of 
people with true vision and the will to live up to the highest they can see, 
may do more than many army corps for the Masters' cause in their great 
world war against the powers of evil. K. 



To the visiting member the annual T. S. Convention is unique in its 
atmosphere of love, insight, and consecration. This was particularly true 
of the Convention of 1918. At this Convention there seemed to be even 
greater unanimity of thought and heart, and of definiteness of purpose 
than at former Conventions. The dominant note was of settled, courage- 
ous determination to wage a ceaseless fight in this great war, for our 
Country, our Allies and the White Lodge, the watchwords being "Faith, 
Courage and Constancy." 

As is always the case at Convention, the addresses and remarks of 
the various members contained much that was exceedingly illuminating 
and inspiring. Particularly so, to some of us, was the light given on the 
meaning and value of sacrifice, especially sacrifice made at this time, 
for mankind and for the White Lodge. Very helpful, also, was the 
exposition of self-love, desire for power, etc., as the antithesis of self- 
sacrifice, and as being sure marks of the Black Lodge. The personal 
application of these ideas was brought home to us all. 

At every Convention one awaits with pleasant anticipations, the 
reports and the remarks of visiting delegates from the various branches. 
It was an especial pleasure and an inspiration to have with us this year 
some who had come from far distant points in order to attend the 
Convention ; still better, to hear them "speak the truth that was in them.'' 

The Saturday evening session seemed to the writer the happiest and 
most helpful of any of the evenings of the Convention he had attended. 

L. 



Dear M 



Once more the Theosophical Convention has come and gone, and 
here is the fulfilment of my promise to tell you about it. I need not 
describe the surroundings, for you know them the sunny Alley, and it 
is always sunny on Convention days, and so unlike the new New York, 






IMPRESSIONS OF THE CONVENTION 57 

so suggestive of older, mellower cities, that one has the sensation of having 
turned suddenly into London, where mews are one's daily portion. You 
remember how we all come smiling down that Alley? A stranger might 
ask "What on earth are they all so pleased about ?" And that is what we 
are "as pleased as Punch," as the children say. Another milestone 
passed, another year gone, in which we have all fought and been worsted, 
but still fought on; another year in which miracles have been worked 
for us, and angels given charge concerning us, and here we are again, 
hungry, undaunted, and serene, hungry, because disciples need the very 
Bread of Life, and here we find it; undaunted, because we have proved 
beyond all peradventure that They that be for us are greater than they 
that be against us ; serene, because we learn, slowly perhaps, but surely, 
to make His Will our peace. And so once more we crowd into the little 
friendly, flower-bedecked studio, that seems to have grown wise with all 
the wisdom it has heard. Not wise, perhaps, about sensible modern 
things like ventilation and heat regulation, but with a wisdom of the 
heart, a cheer that never fails us, and some magic of elasticity by virtue 
of which it gets us all in, with room for one more. Then it has moments 
but moments ! when its tiny walls ring bravely with high words and it 
thinks it is a cathedral and it is. 

First I must talk about the friendliness the note of gay friendliness 
that impressed you so strongly that one time you were with us. When- 
ever I am with my dear Theosophists I always think of that last scene in 
Orpheus and Eurydice you remember where the Happy Spirits greet, 
and part, and greet again, as they drift through their Elysian fields. 
Except for its ineffable music it is a rather silent scene it appears that 
happy spirits do not chatter but their radiant, gracious silence suggests 
the very consummation of friendliness, the very apotheosis of brother- 
hood, a perfection of mutual understanding based on spiritual perceptions, 
and that is what we are in training for that is what we are beginning to 
be happy spirits! Theosophists are friends all the time, but the Con- 
vention is when we underscore it, when the delegates come from far 
and wide to tell of the year's work, and when we compare notes to find 
out where we are "at." They are so glad to be back again and we are 
so glad to have them. As to the work accomplished, from one point of 
v i ew the silly material one it might seem small, the progress infini- 
tesimal. If we pinned our faith, for example, to showy numerical growth, 
we could easily be discouraged, but we know better than that only first 
class Theosophists need apply the other kind need much wider halls. 
Then think of the bewilderment, the scathing contempt, of a really 
efficient Tammany politician, for instance, to hear that tiny groups of 
two or three or four people meet season after season, year after year, 
to discuss what? He would say vague unpractical things that do not 
pay. And yet we are sure that by just such small and patient doings the 
mills of the faithful gods accomplish their slow grinding. Two humble 
people are enough for a study class in theosophy, and be sure it will not 



58 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

fail of a Master. Now you are laughing at what you call my "high and 
mighty tones," but there is one thing in this world about which I am 
haughty and stuck-up and altogether beyond the reach of snubbing, and 
that is The Theosophical Society. 

What did we talk about? What does one ever talk about in these 
mad, splendid days? The War naturally, but the War as seen through 
theosophical lenses, and recognized as a clear cut, sharply defined struggle 
between the forces of good and evil, between White Lodge and Black 
Lodge, "happy the warriors, son of Pritha, who find such a fight as 
this, it is a very door of heaven opened wide." 

You, who so rejoice in the psychology of history, would have been 
fitted exactly by the lecture in the Little Thimble Theater, on Theosophy 
and the Nations at War but that you must read in full. Again we had 
the insistence upon the stupendous spiritual opportunities offered to 
humanity and the revelations made as to spiritual status, as nation after 
nation finds or loses its soul in this struggle, as exemplified not only in 
a dehumanized Germany, in the pitiful betrayal of poor, bewildered, 
elemental Russia, in the exposure of egotistical infamy by the Sinn Fein 
(or sin unfeigned, as T. will insist upon calling it), but also in the 
recovered vision of splendid France, the laughing, dauntlessness of 
unconquerable England. 

And so, dear M., as I look back these are some of the impressions 
that emerge and you ask for impressions a high gaiety, as of those 
who hurry forward on some beautiful adventure ; a gracious slowing up 
on the part of those who have outrun us, as big brothers might keep step 
with little ones (our prattle meanwhile often tries their gravity), and a 
serenity that the crash of worlds cannot impair, for has not the oldest 
brother of all said "Of those whom Thou hast given me I have lost none" ? 

M. 



In coming to the 1918 T. S. Convention one expected to have one's 
faith at once tried and strengthened tried by the report that there had 
been no history ; strengthened by certain knowledge that The T. S. is doing 
a vital work in the world, a knowledge which inevitably comes from 
contact with any T. S. activity. One was barely seated when one felt a 
new note: there was a change in the current, if I may so phrase it. 
The current was seemingly positive, even aggressive; where one had 
expected it to be defensive and protective. Flaming hope, confidence in 
an assured victory, were superadded to unflinching faith. 

The Convention proceedings left an impression of an orderly, dis- 
ciplined, unified attack along lines that seemed unmistakably military and 
martial. One heard oneself saying: "We are out of the trenches, out 
of ourselves, into the open and we are attacking yes, and being attacked, 
but what of it! We are advancing." 

The intangible is hard to put into words though it may be the vital 
element. The T. S. Convention of 1918 was real, potent, practical. 



IMPRESSIONS OF THE CONVENTION 59 

Theorizing was abandoned for that knowledge with certainty of which 
Light on the Path speaks. The T. S. has been doing, and will do, a 
great work. One has heard it said that the conquest of sin in oneself is 
part of the battle line in France. One had heard it in faith before. 
Since the Convention one has known it to be true simply, literally true. 
One left strengthened. One left feeling united to others equally confident 
and equally convinced that the 1918 Convention marked a turning point 
in the world's history. N. 

We hardly need to tell you how closely and eagerly we were ques- 
tioned upon our return home from the Convention. And what follows 
was part of our attempt, here put in writing, to give to our Branch 
members something of the Convention spirit; some idea of the thoughts 
and feelings of the members there, which it seemed to us might possibly 
interest others not present. We are not stenographers, however; there- 
fore it is not intended as an actual rendering of the various speakers' 
words, as you will find, but rather a composite resume of some of the 
things said, the impression of these upon us, and the reflections they gave 
rise to. Perhaps it is mostly these last musings on our way home, 
though we trust it is none the less true as an interpretation of the various 
speakers' intent. 

We will begin by telling of our very personal gleanings that we gath- 
ered from the greetings everywhere given to us. While we may have 
found betimes enough in the night wind and in the chill of the early 
morning air to remind us of those eastern winters we had read of, yet 
those personal greetings, indeed, reminded us no less of the eastern spring- 
time sun, or of our own perennial summer so warm, so wholehearted, 
so brimful of new life to us were they. From the first greeting, given 
in the first moment of our arrival, when, above the depot's din and the 
noise of hurrying, scurrying passengers and porters, we heard our name 
called and were met by one only outwardly strange to us, right on 
through the Convention, wherever we went, their warmth and glow we 
carried with us. And we feel them yet. 

And inasmuch as nothing outward, no word, no greeting, could pos- 
sibly express the further depths of sincerity and love that came to us 
silently diffusive and direct from the hearts of some, so we feel that no 
outward sign given at the Convention, nor any word spoken there, could 
possibly be used to fathom its real depths or to measure its widely over- 
spreading dynamic, inductive, inner and outer effects as the "focus of 
tremendous forces," we were told it was, and ourselves felt it to be. 
Neither could we any more adequately venture on a description of those 
forces for ourselves, save perhaps that they might be the spiritual power 
from long years of cumulative, concerted, inner and outer life efforts 
and work of members ; the spiritual life-essence of these fed, as it were, 
by the swift flowing stream of Lodge light and life and love, the Masters' 
thought and will and purposes reflected upon its surface. 



60 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

The "focus of tremendous forces." We remember those words well ; 
we marked their trend, their mien. Obviously those forces were fighting 
forces, as available to the allied guns as to the hearts of self -conquer ing 
men. And ever and again the thought of these would return to us. It 
was essentially a war Convention. 

We listened to the scathing indictment of the Roman See, and yet 
to clear discrimination between the Vatican and the Saints and faithful 
of the Catholic Church. We listened anew to the story of Vatican 
duplicity, of its many-sided intrigue, of its infamy in Ireland, as our 
memory serves us ; of Vatican connivance at Sinn Fein attempted war- 
time rebellions, the Irish-Roman Bishopric and clergy smiling on con- 
tinuous sedition while they clasp across seas the filthy, blood-stained hand 
of a German, and hold high a chalice in the other. While viewing it 
from the opposite shore of France, was it not also a further Vatican 
blow aimed at a sister nation, whose valor of soul, purity and clear under- 
standing, fighting priesthood, and saintly-belligerent nursing nuns, had 
become a rebuke and a menace to the Holy See ? 

And whether it was part of the speaker's arraignment or the search- 
ingly convictive power of his words that brought it back to our minds, 
we do not now know, yet we recalled the Holy Father's long silence and 
seeming unconcern in the beginning of the war, when hordes of bestial, 
blood-soaked Germans were violating his nuns and their girl charges ; 
shooting his aged, defenseless priests; ransacking monasteries and batter- 
ing down the walls of his sanctuaries, as wily Vatican diplomats tore and 
devoured, as it were, his flock from within his own fold. Was it not 
withal the outward and visible sign of a Satanic hidden compact the 
Pope's Vatican enforced benedictary sanction of the Pan-German Plot? 

And as we listened and remembered and thought of those "fighting 
forces," it seemed to us that the burning words were intended for other 
ears, and not solely to bestir our own oft sluggish hearts and minds and 
limbs to greater action. As we listened to his tone of unmistakable 
defiance, it seemed to us that somehow they would be borne on the cur- 
rents of the ether as a warning call to the ministers left standing in 
Europe, or to appear maybe as the handwriting on the wall at the secret 
conclaves of Cardinals, and be heard as an answering cross-current chal- 
lenge on the line of consultive intercommunications between Rome and 
Berlin. 

One of the delegate's timely denunciation of socialism, endorsed by 
every one there, so far as we could see, was no less convictive. Although 
we cannot recall at this moment the exact words, some of the exemplify- 
ing, previously enacted scenes of Russian socialistic life, that it brought 
back vividly to our minds at the time, are now no less clear to us. We 
saw them as we see them now, as more than one Russian writer has 
depicted them to us. We saw Russia's frontier gates being slowly and 
stealthily opened by socialistic trench oratory; vast armies of Russian 
peasant soldiers lured from their trenches by their brother German "inter- 



IMPRESSIONS OF THE CONVENTION 61 

national" socialists' more wily treachery. We saw them returning home, 
demoralized and childishly elated at their own defeat. We saw them 
later, some five millions of them, fierce, cold, hungry and unrestrained, 
lacking all self-control, gathering to themselves available elements of 
disorder and crime, and devastatingly swarming the country-side like 
locusts armed and deadly locusts. We saw them socialistically freed 
from the Emperor's dictum of sobriety, reeling drunk with new vodka, 
brutalized almost to the level of German brutality; sacking the land, 
wrecking city buildings, tearing up city streets, robbing banks, imprisoning 
loyal citizens and breaking Russia's internationally pledged word at a 
German Socialist's behest, in their mad haste to make way for the invader 
and his armies ; while they socialistically vied with their captors, violating 
and defiling mothers and young girls a lurid black and blood-red living 
picture, as yet unfinished, of what our own country might be, if the so- 
cialists were given all power, if once the "dam of discipline" and the 
benign restraints of toil were broken down. 

We saw socialism radiantly self-assertive, masquerading in our own 
midst as the spirit of democracy, progress, principle and right, fostered 
by socialistic thinkers and sympathizers in high places, well meaning men 
of affairs who, along with the self-seekers among labor, have yet to learn 
some of the lessons of life that our democratic and industrial age would 
teach them. 

We saw it as a hideous thing, clad in church vestments, setting class 
against class in Christ's name, feigning a defence of the downtrodden 
and needy, whilst teaching but a thinly veiled gospel of class consciousness 
and rights, or of freedom from class responsibility and the burden of 
mutual class sin ; a virtual acceptance of the Nietzsche-inspired, Trotsky- 
Lenine socialistic doctrine, that to place the common good of all above 
the material interests of one's own class is a crime ! 

We saw socialism for what it is, as it has shown itself to be since the 
war began, as the fruit of some half -century's German seed-sowing, the 
"Blonde Beast" of the German working class, a fit "Slave" in the 
Nietzschean national formula ; born in the same hour, of the same mon- 
strous parentage, vitalized by the same brute forces, the same sanguinary 
elements, with the same lust for possession and power as its twin-born 
higher class "kultur." True to its Germanic sire, and just now turned 
to a little different hue by the American climate, it awaits but the oppor- 
tune moment of German-Austro strength and of Allied weakness to tear 
up the Declaration of Independence as a scrap of paper, and welcome a 
German army to our shores. When still true to its own instincts it, too, 
would hand over our wheat-lands and oil fields, our common store of 
wealth, our resources discovered and undiscovered, to furnish Europe's 
new "Mittel" empire with further power American womanhood to en- 
rich it with her life's blood, American men its slaves, American children 
meanwhile given over for unspeakable mutilation by the officer's sword, 



62 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

or the surgeon's knife, lest unborn, immortalized Americans return to 
avenge them. 

Socialistic history may or may not repeat itself, yet we do not deceive 
ourselves as to its potentiality. The forces of socialism are being fed 
daily and hourly in this country ; have been fed for many years past. 

Neither do we mistake the Convention Spirit. Theosophy is militant 
eternally militant. The only way, the only brotherly way now to put 
purer instincts and peace into the heart of a Hun is by a bullet or bayonet 
thrust, or by blasting a way through by "Superguns," as we are beginning 
to see. 

And in the Convention's clear light, we see, as never before, some of 
the subtler forms of pacifism and war-slackness. We were reminded 
not so much of the self-confessed pacifists who stand at all times self- 
convicted, as of those who give some sign of seeming outward patriotic 
warmth while they show little if any of its fires within. And we thought 
of our churches rather of some few in them, "holders of the purse," 
as it were, whether consciously so or not, we do not know. There are 
seemingly still some who in this hour of utmost need think more of them- 
selves and of the church's own material interests, loving and caring for 
these more than the Master and the people's war-time inner wants and 
needs. Despite the centuries of hardly learned lessons of inner life and 
divinely human experiences, there are still some who in this hour deny 
our Lord, as Christ Living, to the hearts of their hearers, while they 
thrice vehemently and protestingly declare their love for Him. As of 
old, there are still some who in reality neither watch nor pray for Him 
in this dark hour ; who inwardly sleep, the sword He bade them buy still 
sheathed in self at their side, whilst the ever-living, ever-fighting Christ 
in His now world-wide Garden of Gethsemane sweats great drops of 
agonized blood Allied blood ! Others there are who while they humanely 
tend on battlefields to the soldiers' wounds, would keep his soul in eternal 
darkness, as though enforced fighting and sacrifice of life and all things 
dear for Christ's sake, aside from creed, in this hour were not sufficient 
in His eyes to atone for a soldier's erstwhile sins, and for his part in the 
sins of his nation. As though the hell he sees on the other side of the 
Rhine were not enough for him! Still, there are others nearer perhaps 
to the Master's heart, who, whilst seeking peace where none will be found, 
see more or less dimly above and beneath, and in and through the battle 
of the surface, the inner world, spiritual conflict, the struggle for inner 
supremacy and the things of our immortal life, for possession of the soul 
itself of our race ; who see it more or less dimly as the dark night of the 
Aryan-Soul, the throes of its inner birth, who yet fear and refuse to face 
their own souls in the crisis. They also, it seemed to us, had forsaken 
Him and fled. Their halting and retreat, their inward cowardice, it 
seemed to us, were alike spiritually and morally comparable to the Rus- 
sian peasant soldiers' desertion of the trenches ; were alike in their ultimate 
leavening effects, scattering secretively broadcast the seeds of inner and 



IMPRESSIONS OF THE CONVENTION 63 

outer sabotage, while giving added powers to German spies. Whilst we 
thought of the less intuitive layman, rich and poor alike a prey to the 
same fears, who follow as devoutly the same pathway of self-worship, 
and haltingly measure and decide vast inner and outer world issues by 
their pocketbooks, and the distance of the battlefield from the living- 
room window ; a thrice faithless denial, too, of their God, themselves, and 
their country by adoption or birth. 

Nor were those Convention forces any less sparing of ourselves. 
While the inwardness of rapidly moving events, and the souls of fighting 
nations were being laid bare to us, they yielded us no less rich subject mat- 
ter for self-introspection. In the war's lessons ; in the French poilus' val- 
orous love and supreme sacrifice ; in the Briton's oft remarked stubborn- 
ness now transformed into an enduring defence on thirty-seven fighting 
fronts; in the Sinn Feiner's "for himself alone"; in the German's loss 
of his soul, in the glory and spiritual promise, and ignominy of such 
as these, we sought and found some of our own imperfections, and many 
of the essentials of our own inner life and being, with some of the black 
shadows of our own sin. 

By the bitterness in our sacrifice; by our own sullen, inner resent- 
ment of higher and diviner laws ; by our own unspeakable selfishness, as 
we could see ourselves partially stripped of self -disguises in the Conven- 
tion light, by such as these had we not also sown seeds of bothj inner 
and outer sabotage, of socialistic violence and betrayal of nations and 
Irish revolt? And while we may have fought and stood valiantly at 
times, as it seemed to us, and anon had cast out devils from ourselves, 
as it were, in His name, conscious in rarer moments of a guidance and 
sustaining power higher than our own, yet had we not in the hour of 
the Master's need, and of our own self-peril, turned from Him and fled? 

Had we not a sword to withdraw further from its sheath of self, 
wholly, if that were possible, that it might scintillate in the Convention 
light, in the battle royal of the centuries that the soul of our race may 
be lifted up? 

Was not our own theosophy eternally militant, too ? Were not those 
warning watchwords, "Faith, Courage, Constancy," the living antithesis 
to the world enemy's opposing call to socialism, pacifism and inner and 
outer war slackness their leavening power translated into strong inner 
and outer action, our irresistible offensive and defensive against the 
things we had heard spoken of? 

Was not the Society itself the very warrior soul of our nation and 
race? Had it not reached that point in its inner and outer career from 
whence the common pathway must be lit by the light of its daring? 

We pondered these things in our hearts as we traveled homeward. 

O. 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 



THIS will have to be a monologue. The conversationalists of the 
Screen are too busy to talk. In their diverse ways they are 
after Germans, little and big, seen and unseen. 

The number and variety of unseen Germans is amazing. 
Some of them are objective. They are unseen because they hide, in 
certain cases from you, in other cases both from you and from themselves. 
When they hide from themselves, they usually persuade themselves that 
they are Internationalists and, of course, that they are superior. It 
requires some experience to detect them through the veil of their self- 
hypnosis. 

But the unseen Germans who are creatures of the invisible world, 
are recognized hardly at all. This is because, before the war, even 
religious people, so-called, had ceased to believe in devils ; and you cannot 
recognize anything in the existence of which you do not believe. It is 
thanks entirely to the performance of the objective Germans, that the 
rest of the world is gradually recovering its ability to know a devil when 
it sees one, and to suspect him, by his fruits, even when he himself 
remains unseen. Incidentally, if we were anxious to harbor some one 
pleasant feeling about Germans (and we have been spared that anxiety), 
it would be comforting to owe them this increasing ability to recognize 
a devil by his "atmosphere," as well as by his trail. Incidentally, also, it 
is interesting to note that Divine Wisdom has so fashioned things that 
evil invariably defeats its own ends, for the more objective and odious 
it becomes, the less likely is it to deceive honest people. It may perhaps 
even be said that evil, because of the reaction of honest people against it, 
which pushes them toward what is good, obtains in this way a chance 
to be transformed and redeemed, while, of course, if honest people are 
deceived by it, their blindness and perdition merely prolong the agony 
of evil by adding to its power. 

But about devils: who are they? What are they? 

In the visible world we know of creatures of many kinds. We know 
them as centres of consciousness, functioning in bodies adapted to the 
order of substance in which they live and move and have their being. 
As Paul of Tarsus said : "All flesh is not the same flesh ; but there is one 
kind of flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, and 
another of birds." Then he added : "There are also celestial bodies, and 
bodies terrestrial." But the first idea to get very clearly in mind is that, 
wherever we turn in Nature, we find centres of consciousness, functioning 
in some kind of a body, the substance of these bodies varying in quality as 
much as the degree of consciousness manifesting through them. 

Some scientists would say that we know more about ether than we 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 65 

know about solids, liquids and gases. All scientists would say that ether 
is as real as a solid. But ether, none the less, is invisible. Suppose the 
bottom of the ocean had never been explored. Many people would say, 
Nothing can live in such conditions. Because it has been explored, we 
know that creatures do live there. And because that has been our experi- 
ence in every department of Nature which we have explored so far, it 
would be folly, in our opinion, to question the probability that sentient 
creatures exist in the ether and in or on all planes of the ether. For 
just as we know of many grades or planes of visible substance, from 
hardest steel to vapour and gases only just perceptible, so also we may 
infer that there are many different grades or planes of ether. 

There are bodies celestial, said St. Paul. This means invisible, at 
least to the average human eye. In another place St. Paul gives a list 
of different classes of angels. These beings must function in bodies, 
the substance of which would be akin to the stratum of consciousness to 
which each type belongs. But just as, in the visible world, you find 
both good men and bad men, and also men who are not positively good 
or bad but who are influenced for good or ill by circumstances ; and just 
as, among animals, you find those which are friendly to man and those 
which are unfriendly so it seems reasonable to suppose that in the 
invisible world there are creatures both good and bad, both friendly to 
man and unfriendly, as well as those whose character depends chiefly 
upon the influences to which they are subjected. 

There are, in the first place, unthinkable millions of disincarnated 
creatures. It would be absurd to suppose them "dead." In the second 
place it would be narrow-minded in the extreme to think of this earth 
as the sole source of life and of consciousness. Why should there not 
be globes invisible as well as visible? Why should not invisible globes 
interpenetrate our earth, just as the ether is said to interpenetrate every 
tangible form of substance? Why should not the creatures of such 
invisible globes in some cases be morally better and in some cases morally 
worse than the men and animals of this planet? All the great religions 
teach the existence both of angels and of devils: the angels reinforcing 
everything in us which makes for righteousness, and the devils reinforcing 
everything in us which makes for evil, for egotism, sensuality, anarchy, 
disorder and chaos. When we say, therefore, as we have often said in 
these columns, that Germany has sold her soul to the devil for power, 
we have not been speaking figuratively, but of what we have every reason 
to believe is literal fact. Our own reasons we have not attempted to set 
forth. But the considerations we have suggested should at least serve 
the purpose of opening a shut mind to the recognition of a possibility. 
And it is important that as many people as possible shall realize that in 
this war we are fighting the whole brood of devils, only the visible 
representatives of whom are the Germans and their allies. 

However, enough of that. Our subject, for the moment, shall be 
5 



66 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

certain recent revelations, by their own acts, and out of their own mouths, 
of objective German devils. 

First, we want everyone to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest 
the contents of a pamphlet, issued under the auspices of the German 
Government, the purpose of which is to frighten neutral nations into 
an attitude of suitable trepidation and compliance. The State Department 
of the United States communicated the contents of this pamphlet to the 
New York Times (May 9th, 1918). In it, Germany boasts of her unpar- 
alleled "fright fulness." She boasts in detail. She has stolen 5,016 
"average watches"; 15,312 "embroideries and women's handkerchiefs," 
etc., etc. But more than that, for consider the matter of prisoners of war. 
British prisoners, numbering 50,000, have been captured, it is claimed. 
As against this number, "the English oppose 124,806 German prisoners 
taken by them on the western front." What of that, however ! For and 
now we quote word for word : 

"It must be remembered the English treat their prisoners 
with notable kindness, while the regime imposed on the English 
prisoners by the Germans is one of extreme rigor; so that the 
Germans, with a small number of prisoners [this was before the 
recent German offensive], have secured a much superior moral 
effect. Besides, to the 2,264 officers and 51,325 soldiers must 
be added the several thousand English prisoners that have died 
in consequence of disease, scanty food and other accidents in 
German concentration camps." 

We cannot be surprised, therefore, when the Germans, though proud 
of their past achievements, strive continuously, with the aid of their 
unseen "father," to outdo themselves in devilish and brutal cruelty. Nat- 
urally, being bullies, they are cowards, and choose their victims from 
among the helpless. So we read on the authority of the British Ad- 
miralty (New York Times, June 8th, 1918), of "the slow murder of 
forty British prisoners sent by the Germans to work under fire on the 
Russian front." By way of pretext, it had been alleged that thirty-six 
German prisoners had been murdered by their British sentries, an 
accusation without a word of truth in it, needless to say, though the 
British prisoners in Germany, to whom presumably the statement was 
made, were in no position to disprove it. It had been decided, "in 
retaliation," that out of a party of 500 British prisoners, a corresponding 
thirty-six should die. 

"The men were formed into groups of three and the mis- 
deeds of any individual were visited upon all three men in the 
group. They were taken from working parties at the end of 
the day, made to mount on a block, and were then tied to a pole. 
The block afterward was kicked away, leaving the men sus- 
pended with their feet a little off the ground. In this position 
they were kept for two and a half hours each night for fourteen 
nights in intense cold. Forty men died under the treatment." 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 67 

Red Indians, at their worst, could not have surpassed these exponents 
of "kultur." Yet, in some respects, the ordinary, daily treatment of pris- 
oners held by Germany, is even worse. Without any pretext of retalia- 
tion, they are subjected to unceasing physical and moral torture which, 
in our opinion, it is absolutely wrong to allow to pass with mere verbal 
protests. Report after report, supplemented with evidence from escaped 
prisoners and from neutrals, has been published by the British Govern- 
ment. The last to reach us is a White Paper numbered Cd. 8988, dated 
April, 1918. The official Committee reporting states that the evidence 
"must convince every impartial mind that it is impossible in terms of 
exaggeration to describe the sufferings these prisoners had undergone." 

Take one instance. In April, 1917, three British prisoners escaped 
over "no man's land." They were received by a British General Staff 
Officer, a major in the 1st Anzac Corps. This is what he says of them, 
under date the 18th April, 1917: 

"Three men escaped from behind the German lines to us the 
other day. They had been prisoners 3 months, and were literally 
nearly dead with ill-treatment and starvation. One of them 
could hardly walk, and was just a skeleton. He had gone down 
from 13 stone to less than 8 stone in 3 months. 1 fetched 
him back from the line, and it almost made me cry. All that 
awful January and February out all day in the wet and cold; 
no overcoat, and at night no blanket, in a shelter where the 
clothes froze stiff on him; no change of underclothing in three 
months, and he was one mass of vermin, no chance of washing. 
The bodies of all of them were covered with sores. 'Beaten and 
starved,' one of them said. 'Sooner than go through it again 
I'd just put my head under the first railway.' " 

Beaten to work, in bitter cold, without clothing, "the only food they 
were given was one cup of coffee, a slice of bread and some soup a day a 
day's ration" (p. 9). No wonder that young men became grey headed 
after a few months' of such treatment, or that others, when first fed, 
"died of eating the food we gave them." 

Americans, must your own sons and brothers, husbands and sweet- 
hearts, be treated like that, before you realize that you are fighting, not 
men, but devils? 

Another direction in which there is room for much clearer under- 
standing than exists at present, is that concerning the responsibility for 
beginning the war. At one time, people in this country were told officially 
that the origin of the war did not concern them. From other sources 
we received numbers of pamphlets assuring us that England, France, 
Russia, Germany and Austria were all of them equally responsible. It 
was suggested, in some of these pamphlets, that "capitalistic" iniquity 
must of necessity be at the bottom of this as of all other world calamities, 
and that France and England, therefore, were just as much at fault as 
Germany. It did not require much perspicacity to trace such logic to 



68 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

its source ; but the trouble is that almost any kind of statement, if repeated 
often enough and with sufficient assurance, leaves an impression which 
it is very difficult to remove from the minds of those who failed in the 
first place to reject it positively as a lie ; while comparatively few people 
are really positive about anything. Consequently, even today, there is 
need to emphasize the truth; and it so happens that some Germans, 
because they see disaster confronting them, are beginning to turn "State's 
evidence." 

If doubt about the responsibility for the outbreak of the war had 
at any time been possible honestly and we do not think that it was 
the evidence of Prince Lichnowsky, German Ambassador in London for 
some time before the outbreak of the war; of Dr. Wilhelm Miihlon, 
former Director of Krupps ; of Baron Wangenheim, German Ambassador 
at Constantinople, and of August Thyssen, speaking for German manu- 
facturers, would remove such doubt forever. 

Prince Lichnowsky's memorandum is printed in full in Current His- 
tory for May, 1918. It was dated Kuchelna, 16 August, 1916, and became 
public in March, 1918. He says "We [the German Government] insisted 
upon war." And then: 

"As appears from all official publications, without the facts 
being controverted by our own White Book, which, owing to its 
poverty and gaps, constitutes a grave sel f -accusation : 

"1. We encouraged Count Berchtold to attack Serbia, 
although no German interest was involved, and the danger of a 
world war must have been known to us whether we knew the 
text of the ultimatum is a question of complete indifference. 

"2. In the days between July 23 and July 30, 1914, when 
M. Sazonoff emphatically declared that Russia could not tolerate 
an attack upon Serbia, we rejected the British proposals of 
mediation, although Serbia, under Russian and British pressure, 
had accepted almost the whole ultimatum, and although an agree- 
ment about the two points in question could easily have been 
reached, and Count Berchtold was even ready to satisfy himself 
with the Serbian reply. 

"3. On July 30, when Count Berchtold wanted to give way, 
we, without Austria having been attacked, replied to Russia's 
mere mobilization by sending an ultimatum to St. Petersburg, 
and on July 31 we declared war on the Russians, although the 
Czar had pledged his word that as long as negotiations continued 
not a man should march so that we deliberately destroyed the 
possibility of a peaceful settlement. 

"In view of these indisputable facts, it is not surprising that 
the whole civilized world outside Germany attributes to us the 
sole guilt for the world war." 

Of his departure from England, the Ambassador says: "I was 
treated like a departing sovereign. Thus ended my London mission. 
It was wrecked, not by the perfidy of the British, but by the perfidy of 
our policy." 

In the same issue of Current History (see also Manufacturers' 
Record of June 6th, 1918), the testimony of Dr. Miihlon is given at 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 69 

length. As a Director of Krupps, his relations both with the German 
Government and with the big German banks were of course most inti- 
mate. It was from Dr. Helfferich, at that time Director of the Deutsche 
Bank in Berlin, and later Vice Chancellor of the German Empire, that, 
in the middle of July, 1914, he heard of the Kaiser's secret agreement 
with Austria, and that war was an "absolute certainty." 

Wangenheim's testimony we owe to Mr. Morgenthau, American Am- 
bassador to Turkey. Writing in The World's Work (June, 1918) of his 
experiences at Constantinople, Mr. Morgenthau says that in the early 
days of the war, the good fortune of the German armies so excited the 
German Ambassador, "that he was sometimes led into indiscretions, and 
his exuberance one day caused him to tell me certain facts which, I think, 
will always have great historical value. He disclosed precisely how and 
when Germany had precipitated this war. To-day his revelation of this 
secret looks like a most monstrous indiscretion, but we must remember 
Wangenheim's state of mind at the time. The whole world then believed 
that Paris was doomed ; Wangenheim kept saying that the war would be 
over in two or three months. The whole German enterprise was evidently 
progressing according to programme." 

Mr. Morgenthau continues: 

"I have already mentioned that the German Ambassador 
left for Berlin soon after the assassination of the Grand Duke, 
and he now revealed the cause of his sudden disappearance. 
The Kaiser, he told me, had summoned him to Berlin for an 
imperial conference. This meeting took place at Potsdam on 
July 5th. The Kaiser presided; nearly all the ambassadors 
attended ; Wangenheim came to tell of Turkey and enlighten his 
associates on the situation in Constantinople. Moltke, then 
Chief of Staff, was there, representing the army, and Admiral 
von Tirpitz spoke for the navy. The great bankers, railroad 
directors, and the captains of German industry, all of whom 
were as necessary to German war preparations as the army itself, 
also attended. 

"Wangenheim now told me that the Kaiser solemnly put 
the question to each man in turn. Was he ready for war? All 
replied 'Yes' except the financiers. They said that they must 
have two weeks to sell their foreign securities and to make loans. 
At that time few people had looked upon the Sarajevo tragedy as 
something that was likely to cause war. This conference took 
all precautions that no such suspicion should be aroused. It 
decided to give the bankers time to readjust their finances for 
the coming war, and then the several members went quietly 
back to their work or started on vacations. The Kaiser went 
to Norway on his yacht. Von Bethmann-Holweg left for a 
rest, and Wangenheim returned to Constantinople. 

"In telling me about this conference, Wangenheim, of 
course, admitted that Germany had precipitated the war. I 
think that he was rather proud of the whole performance ; proud 
that Germany had gone about the matter in so methodical and 
far-seeing way ; especially proud that he himself had been invited 
to participate in so momentous a gathering. The several blue, 



70 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

red, and yellow books which flooded Europe the few months 
following the outbreak, and the hundreds of documents which 
were issued by German propaganda attempting to establish Ger- 
many's innocence, never made any impression on me. For my 
conclusions as to the responsibility are not based on suspicions 
or belief or the study of circumstantial data. I do not have to 
reason or argue about the matter. I know. The conspiracy that 
has caused this greatest of human tragedies was hatched by the 
Kaiser and his imperial crew at this Potsdam conference of July 
5, 1914. One of the chief participants, flushed with his triumph 
at the apparent success of the plot, told me the details with his 
own mouth. Whenever I hear people arguing about the respon- 
sibility for this war or read the clumsy and lying excuses put 
forth by Germany, I simply recall the burly figure of Wangen- 
heim as he appeared that August afternoon, puffing away at a 
huge black cigar, and giving me his account of this historic 
meeting. Why waste any time discussing the matter after that ? 
"This Imperial Conference took place July 5th ; the Serbian 
ultimatum was sent on July 22nd. That is just about the two 
weeks interval which the financiers had demanded to complete 
their plans. All the great stock exchanges of the world show 
that the German bankers profitably used this interval. Their 
records disclose that stocks were being sold in large quantities 
and that prices declined rapidly. At that time the markets were 
somewhat puzzled at this movement ; Wangenheim's explanation 
clears up any doubts that may still remain. Germany was 
changing her securities into cash, for war purposes." 

Mr. Morgenthau adds that the Austrian Ambassador "also practically 
admitted that the Central Powers had precipitated the war." Statements 
made by the old Emperor Francis Joseph in May, 1914, proved that "the 
war would have come irrespective of the calamity at Sarajevo [the mur- 
der of the heir to the Austrian throne]. That merely served as the 
convenient pretext for the war upon which the Central Empires had 
already decided." 

August Thyssen is the nephew and namesake of the "Steel King" 
of Germany. His revelations (and the word is used advisedly) are 
translated in the Manufacturers' Record of May 9th, 1918. He states 
that the German Emperor "on three occasions addressed large private 
gatherings of business men in Berlin, Munich and Cassel in 1912 and 
1913," promising them immense financial profits if they would uphold 
him in a war which he was going to bring about. Victory was to be 
achieved by December, 1915. By that time, Germany would have con- 
quered the world. 

"I was personally promised a free grant of 30,000 acres in 
Australia and a loan from the Deutsche Bank of 150,000 at 3 
per cent., to enable me to develop my business in Australia. 
Several other firms were promised special trading facilities in 
India. ... A syndicate was formed for the exploitation of 
Canada. . . . Huge indemnities were, of course, to be levied 
on the conquered nations, and the fortunate German manufac- 
turers were, by this means, practically to be relieved of taxation 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 71 

for years after the war. These promises were not vaguely 
given. ... I have mentioned the promise of a grant of 
30,000 acres in Australia that was made to me. Promises of a 
similar kind were made to at least 80 other persons at special 
interviews with the Chancellor, and all particulars of these prom- 
ises were entered in a book at the Trades Department." 

It was to be a war for loot. Thyssen and the other Germans, finding 
the statements of the Emperor "tempting and alluring," agreed to support 
his war plans. Thyssen now finds himself nearly ruined; but, although 
disgusted and disillusioned, he is as German in his death-rattle as he was 
when, full of hope, he conspired to rob and slaughter his neighbors : for 
it does not dawn on him that he and his Emperor and their associates 
proved themselves to be common criminals and murderers, every one of 
whom ought to be hung, and must be hung, if law and order are to be 
vindicated. T. 



"// I want only pure water, what does it matter whether it be brought 
me in a vase of gold or glass. What is it to me whether the will of God 
be presented to me in tribulation or consolation, since I desire and seek 
only the divine will." St. Francis de Sales. 



ELEMENTARY ARTIG ,E 




SELF-EXAMINATION 

THE difficulty of understanding one's own nature, which was dealt 
with in the last section, may be overcome to some extent by 
honest, careful, regular, systematic and detailed self-examination. 
This is prescribed in all religious Rules, and should be part of 
every individual's Rule of Life. 

The necessity for complete honesty with one's self is so obvious 
that it seems hardly necessary to refer to it, and yet, as has already been 
pointed out, we are not honest with ourselves, or about ourselves, to 
ourselves. The lower mind will adopt the most subtle expedients, and 
the most ingenious devices, to becloud the truth. We are willing to 
acknowledge almost any other sin than that one which we are searching 
for or have been accused of. We injure or hurt some one in a specific 
manner, and cheerfully confess and apologize for our very disagreeable 
personality that must be such a trial to our friends, while at the same 
time vehemently denying that we did that specific thing. The object of 
self-examination is to bring out the fact that we did do that specific 
thing; to search out the motives which prompted the act; and to show 
us how those elements in our nature acted, not only in this case, but 
at other times, in connection with many other people. There is no use 
trying to understand ourselves unless we are prepared to face the facts, 
with courage and with scrupulous honesty. If in real doubt about some 
point, it is safest to assume that we are guilty ; and guilty of the meanest 
and lowest manifestation of the fault. A candid avowal of guilt, even if 
only to ourselves, usually clears up the doubt. Once the fault is acknowl- 
edged, we see it clearly, in all its ramifications and workings. If, on the 
other hand, the doubts persist after self-avowal, it is a case for our 
spiritual director. Care must be taken to avoid scrupulosity. The lower 
self very often covers up our real faults, by encouraging us to believe 
that we have some imaginary one. 

Self-examination must be careful. It must not be slurred, and we 
must not permit ourselves to be diverted from the point at issue. If we 
are hunting for evidences of stinginess, of which, for some reason, we 
believe we may be guilty, we must not follow some false trail which 
leads to some other infraction of the Vow of Poverty. We are hunting 



SELF-EXAMINATION 73 

for stinginess, not extravagance nor prodigality, nor lavishness. There 
are many pitfalls for unwary feet along this path. 

Self-examination should be regular. It is a question of degree. 
A good general Rule is to go over the day, every evening before going 
to bed; and then, once a week, or once a month, have a general exam- 
ination that is much more specific and elaborate. After a time, when self- 
examination has become a regular habit, some students do it hourly; 
interrupting their occupation, when they can, for a brief review of the 
previous hour; asking themselves, perhaps, some such leading question 
as this: "What did I do during the last hour which I would not want 
the Master to see me do?" Such a question throws a lot of things into 
relief, for it covers how we do things, as well as what we do. 

Self-examination must be systematic; that is, we must devise some 
plan that will cover the ground. Many systems use the Ten Command- 
ments as a basis, and they serve if they are stretched far enough; but 
I prefer the Three Vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience. These 
should be sub-divided to cover the different planes, in a manner that 
I shall indicate further on. The point is that we are complicated entities, 
and that we sin with the body, the emotions, the thoughts, and feelings. 
All the nooks and crannies of our nature must be looked into, for we 
are likely to find the faults tucked away in the most out-of-the-way 
place. Because you are generous with physical objects, do not run 
away with the idea that you are also generous where it is much more 
important to be generous, and that is with your sympathy and your 
affections. Nor must you overlook the possibility that you may be the 
soul of generosity where your affections are engaged, and be niggardly 
with everyone else. Some of the most generous people I know are only 
generous to some half a dozen friends, and never seem to realize that 
they should not stop there. The converse is also true. I know others 
who seem to think that when they give their affection, they have given 
enough; so that their bounty is bestowed upon strangers. Truly, there 
is no limit to the intricacies and complexities of sin. 

But if our self-examination is sufficiently detailed, all these other 
qualifications will look after themselves. We must endeavor to devise 
questions which will cover every field of activity and will throw light 
into every devious and crooked corner of our nature. Take the Vow 
of Poverty as an example. Most people think of it as one of the three 
vows taken by a monk or nun when entering a convent for the purpose of 
leading a religious life. Entirely apart from the point that we should 
lead religious lives whether in a convent or not, the facts are that 
the Vow of Poverty covers a large section of human activities, and that 
no one can lead even a decent, secular life, who does not submit to its 
sway, and act in obedience to its dictates. It operates, of course, on 
every plane of our nature, and has its laws and rules for our bodies, our 
emotions, our thoughts and our feelings. 

Take the question of time. Time does not belong to us; it 



74 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

belongs to God. It may seem a far cry from the Vow of Poverty to 
how we use our time, but as a matter of fact, the use we make of time 
is just one of the departments of our lives which comes within the field of 
this Vow, and should be examined under its sanction. How do we use, 
or abuse, our imaginations? Do we spend a lot of time building Castles 
in Spain, imagining ourself to be the hero of all sorts of adventures? 
Do we realize that Humility, that rarest and most necessary of virtues, 
is also part of the Vow of Poverty; that the "poverty of spirit" which 
shall see God, is another name for humility? 

I want, however, to give a more or less systematic and detailed 
sub-division- of one of the Vows as an example of the manner in which 
all three vows should be detailed, and made to cover the whole of life. 
As we have been using the Vow of Poverty, let us take that, and ask 
ourselves these questions: 

Do I understand the Vow of Poverty? 

Do I apply it on all planes ? 

Do I look upon it as one of the most important means of perfection ? 

Do I meditate upon Christ's relations to it, and how He exem- 
plified it? 

Do I keep myself disengaged from the things of this world? 

Am I content with my food and clothes and shelter, or do I com- 
plain of any of them? 

Have I more of these things than I need? 

Or better in quality? 

Do I possess anything superfluous? 

Do I regard things as my own, and value the sense of possession and 
ownership ? 

Is there anything I have which it would be difficult or painful to 
relinquish ? 

Am I content to be poor, or do I long for riches and luxury ? 

Do I trust implicitly in God, or do I fear poverty ? 

Am I content with simple, inexpensive and second best things ? 

Do I wish for changes in my circumstances ? 

Do I dread certain eventualities, or am I content to accept whatever 
comes ? 

Do I waste my time, either during working hours, or hours of 
leisure ? 

Have I given away anything or accepted anything where I doubted 
the propriety of my act? 

Have I allowed anything to be wasted or spoiled ? 

Have I taken good care of everything entrusted to me? 

Have I given better things to those I like than to those I do not like ? 

Have I done all my duties thoroughly and conscientiously? 

Have my employers or superiors had any cause of complaint of my 
performance ? 

Was I punctual? 



SELF-EXAMINATION 75 

Do I finish my work, or leave it as it may be, when the work time 
is up? 

Do I seek what is pleasant, or easy, or comfortable? 

Do I select the best chair ? 

Do I listen as attentively and courteously to those who bore me as 
to those who interest me? 

Do I begrudge certain people my time? 

Do I listen sympathetically to the story of their trivial experiences? 

Am I generous with my sympathy? 

Do I share my pleasures with others? 

Am I reserved and shy? or do I err in the other direction, and talk 
too much and too freely about myself ? 

Do I seek advice as often as I should? 

Do I seek it more often, and for the sake of attracting attention to 
myself, rather than for the advice? 

Do I prefer others to myself? What does this mean? How far do 
I carry it? 

Am I charitable in my judgments ? Patient with the faults and weak- 
nesses of others ? Is this patience and charity a veneer assumed because 
it is the decorous attribute, or do I really feel sympathetic and charitable? 

Is patience an effort, or is it the spontaneous expression of my 
feeling? 

Do I ever complain, of things, or events, or people? 

Do I criticize others outwardly, or in my own mind? 

Do I ever feel amused, or pleased, when I observe another's weak- 
ness? 

Do I ever get a secret satisfaction from the faults of others? 

Do I relish another's scolding or reprimand? Or would I prefer to 
be the guilty party so that he might escape the consequences of his sin? 

Do I avoid all topics of conversation, or mannerisms or ways of 
doing things, that I have any reason to believe unpleasant or painful to 
others ? 

Do I carefully avoid being the occasion of sin in others? 

How do I employ my leisure? 

Do I govern my mental activities, my thoughts, in the spirit of the 
Vow of Poverty, as well as in the vows of Chastity and Obedience? 

What does this mean to me ? In what ways should the spirit of the 
Vow of Poverty control my mind? 

How should it control my imagination? Does it? 

How should it control my will ? Does it ? 

How should it control my memory? Does it? 

How should it control my understanding? Does it? 

Am I generous in asking pardon for any fault I may have committed, 
and do I grant it immediately and ungrudgingly, when asked of me? 

Do I practise poverty of spirit, humility? 



76 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Have I kept silent regarding those matters which might gain me 
applause, or advance me in the esteem of others? 

Do I really believe I should be humbled, forgotten, and despised ? 

Have I submitted my will and judgment to others, or relied on 
my own? Which should I do? and why? and with what limits? 

Have I tried to carry my point; to enforce my view; to have my 
plan adopted? 

Have I acted with a view to attracting the esteem or applause of 
others ? 

Was I not more eager for those things which would make me prom- 
inent, than for those leaving me in the background? 

Did I try to continue the conversation when others were praising 
me, or talking about me ? 

Did I dwell with complacency upon myself, my talents, my qualities, 
my spiritual attainments? 

Did I compare myself with others, to my advantage and their disad- 
vantage ? 

Have I spoken of myself deprecatingly for the purpose of drawing 
praise from others? 

Have I concealed or disguised my faults so that they should not 
become known? 

Did I excuse myself when corrected? 

Have I thrown the blame on others? 

Have I taken correction in bad part, shown too much sensibility, or 
resentment, or attributed unkind motives to the person correcting me? 

Have I been jealous or envious, about either things or people? 

Have I indulged in ridicule? 

Have I been haughty, or proud, or disdainful, or imperious, in 
gesture, or speech? 

Have I been ill-humored, or capricious ? 

Have I indulged my curiosity ? 

And so on. 

The point is that each person should make a list of questions which 
will search out all his peculiarities and idiosyncrasies, in addition to those 
which would do for every one of us. Some of the questions printed 
above may seem to belong rather under the Vow of Chastity, or the Vow 
of Obedience, and indeed, some of them could also be asked under those 
headings, but they also have a proper connotation with the Vow of 
Poverty. There cannot be any hard and fast line of demarcation ; the 
main thing is to cover the whole ground. It may be pointed out that 
both of the other vows cover broader fields than the Vow of Poverty, 
so that there should be many more questions under those captions than 
we have indicated above. Yet again, the point is not a multitude of 
questions so much as to be sure to cover the ground, and the ground 
to be covered is nothing less than all the activities of our nature, actual 



SELF-EXAMINATION 77 

and potential. For we must examine ourselves on sins of omission, as 
well as sins of commission. 

Remember that matters that have to do with the senses, with the 
control of the body and its appetites, the whole fields of sensuality and 
selfishness and truthfulness, come under the Vow of Chastity. Purity 
of mind and body is a large subject in itself. Our religious duties and 
practices, our Inner Life, our Rule and its observance, and all things 
cognate to these subjects, come under the Vow of Obedience. Everything 
that has to do with Conscience, and our ideals, our vision of Life, our 
intuitions, and our obedience to our inner light, of course is a matter 
of the Vow of Obedience. So is our duty to God, which is the larger 
half of a Christian's life. 

These brief indications will enable each one to prepare his own self- 
examination, both general and particular. Its preparation will be useful, 
but it will be its conscientious and regular use thereafter which will be 
illuminating. C. A. G. 



"Why should truth be always near us, and we commonly far away, 
unless from our little-mindedness? He is great-minded who keeps him- 
self in the Divine Presence, and is never long away from the sense of the 
Eternal God. God is always with us, why should we not always be with 
God? The great souls of all ages have walked with God." 

Archbishop Ullathorne. 




The Challenge of the Present Crisis, by Harry Emerson Fosdick, is such an 
excellent book, is so nearly satisfactory, and in places is so inspiring, that one 
wishes one could give it unqualified praise. It will, doubtless, be widely read, for 
it concerns an ever-present problem, is well written, is forceful and convincing, 
answers many searching questions, and is by an author who is deservedly popular. 
I am glad it was written, for I believe it will do good. And yet, and yet! 

He himself says that we must not condemn a good thing because it is not 
perfect: so let us point out much that is good in the book, and then what we do 
not like. The first section discusses the tendency to despair which the war has 
produced, and which he dismissed by showing one that all great wars in the past 
caused the same tendency, and that history illustrates the needlessness of such a 
supine and cowardly attitude. If Christianity is a failure, so is education, social 
idealism, commerce, all the agencies upon which some, or all, of us rely for the 
advance of civilization. We cannot send all these to the scrap-heap, therefore why 
specially Christianity? We agree with his conclusion, of course, but not with his 
premises. He says, "Only a frivolous mind can easily be optimistic at a time like 
this. One who to-day feels no strain on his faith has not taken his faith seriously 
enough to attempt the direct application of it to the actual facts of the war." 
I challenge this statement. The only people I know at the present time who are 
invincibly and intelligently optimistic, are the very few whose religious faith is 
great enough and robust enough to take in the facts of the war as they actually 
are, in all their multiplied horror ; who face these fearlessly and consciously, and 
who not only go on with a serene confidence that God rules and that all is well, 
but who actually see why the war was necessary and desirable and not the 
unmitigated evil most people consider it. Mr. Fosdick himself goes far towards 
seeing the facts and he actually presents a large part of the case, but, and I 
dislike to say this, he is so under the sway of the modern materialistic standard of 
values, the love of life and hatred of discomfort and pain, that he simply cannot 
follow his own theme to its logical conclusion. I doubt if the protestant mind is 
capable really of seeing that pain is not a curse, and that suffering comes from 
God as a remedial agent and is therefore blessed. They hate it so, Mr. Fosdick 
hates it so, that when they meet it, their instinctive reaction is that something is 
wrong with God's world and therefore, with God, and the intellectual gymnastics 
they have to perform to get out of this impasse, are pitiable. He writes eloquently 
of the faults of our social system and, like most others, he blames the social 
system ; it simply never occurs to him that God arranges the social system, and 
that it must represent what He thinks best for those now working under it. Mr. 
Fosdick would say that wicked or ignorant legislators, or statesmen, or capitalists 
arrange the social system, in spite, I suppose, of God, and that if we could bring 
about reforms, the suffering and injustices now caused by our social system 
would cease. He, and most others, seem to think that those who now suffer, suffer 
unjustly; but how he reconciles this with divine justice and divine love, I do 
not know. He does not seem able to realize that we reap what we sow ; he reads 
it in the Bible, but does not apply it to human life, to evolution ; indeed he does 



REVIEWS 79 

not see how it can be applied to evolution, and therefore his journey through the 
logic of events brings him face to face with an unmitigated and unreasoning 
horror of and objection to suffering. 

His appreciation of tfie need of force, of war, is excellent, and what he says 
of pacificism and conscientious objectors is the best analysis of those subjects 
which I have seen. We should expect this of the man who wrote The Manhood of 
the Master. It is a pity he used the word Personality in this section, instead of 
the word Soul. They are not the same, and he treats them as if they were. 

It is, however, about the war section that we must record our most important 
dissent from his point of view. He is discussing the limitations of force and he 
points out that the value of force has distinct limitations. It is never remedial, 
it only removes an obstacle to well-being. "Surgery never cures," It restrains 
or removes a malignant growth and permits the positive, constructive forces of 
health to cure. Hence the war, at the best, can restrain or remove the malignant 
growth of German autocracy and militarism, but it cannot cure. Only good can 
do that. Therefore we must love the Germans, must pray for them, must be 
prepared to open our arms to them and take them into the new and great fellow- 
ship of nations, which, hereafter, is to see that all goes well with the world. He 
actually gives us a prayer, a page and a half long, which begins, "O God, bless 
Germany!" and ends with an appeal "that we may learn brotherhood with that 
same diligence which now we give to war." 

It is an ingenious and interesting argument, appealing to our generosity, our 
magnanimity, our sentimentality, but it is based on a number of very important, 
false assumptions. One is that it is the autocracy and militarism of the Prussian 
government which is the trouble with the German people, the only cancerous 
growth which the surgery of war needs to extirpate. Another is the assumption 
that there are positive and constructive forces of good in the German people 
which will cure them when their cancer is removed. What if there are none? He 
forgets in his surgical analogy that many patients do not have that positive con- 
structive force of health that cures them after the operation. Such patients die. 
A third is that suffering is a curse. He cannot, therefore, understand that force 
used to inflict punishment, i. e., suffering, is the only way to begin the process of 
conversion, regeneration. He says that we must forgive as God forgives. True, 
but on what terms does God forgive? He seems to think that God just forgives; 
he forgets, or does not know, that God never forgives until a sinner repents and 
atones. But his most important and fundamental mistake is his failure to dis- 
tinguish between personal enemies, and those who are the enemies of Christ and 
of all that Christ loves and works for. Our attitude towards the one must be 
very different from our attitude towards the other. One we must hate with all 
our power; the other we must forgive. To one we turn the other cheek, but the 
other we destroy by every means in our power. There is no compromise possible 
with Christ's enemies, and the more we love Christ, the more bitterly shall we hate 
them. The clergy have not yet awakened to this simple truth. C. A. G. 



In an address on "Some Needs of Engineering," delivered by Professor Henry 
M. Howe, Vice-President and Chairman of Section G. of the American Association 
for the Advancement of Science, at Pittsburgh on December 28, 1917, which was 
published in Science of January 25, 1918, after dealing with the ability of mate- 
rials to resist the stresses to which they are exposed, Professor Howe referred to 
the weakness of our present system of government, and made certain suggestions 
which have all the greater significance because based upon the scientific data which 
he was reviewing. He said "It is well to ask ourselves frankly how we come to be 
in this peril to which our minds revert irresistibly. How is it that we and our allies, 
excelling the Teutons in both the ponderables and the imponderables, in material 



80 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

resources, in wealth, and in population, on one hand, and with immeasurably higher 
ethical standards on the other, yet can point to no clear evidence of victory? We 
know that we excel in organizing power. We know that they have no product of 
organization comparable with our industries of the Ford motor car, the Bell tele- 
phone, the Ingersoll dollar watch, the Eastman Kodak, or the United States Steel 
Corporation. We know that the organization of our transportation is of a higher 
order of merit than theirs. We know that in these three years the British have 
made even a better war organization than the forty-four years since Sedan have 
given Germany. How comes it then that though we are incomparably stronger, 
richer, and more capable, we are yet in danger of defeat, of national overthrow, of 
becoming a German satrapy, a second Belgium or Poland? Do we not know that 
our disadvantage lies in our political system, and that in this struggle for existence 
it is not showing itself clearly the fittest for survival? Have we not lost sight of 
this terrible law of the survival of the fittest, not the fittest ethically, or spiritually, 
or intellectually, but the fittest to destroy competitors physically? What are the 
ethics of the snake, the tiger, or the hyena that they have survived in this struggle? 
The bloodthirsty buccaneers were neither the ethical nor the spiritual betters of the 
Aztecs and Incas. The Romans were the inferiors of the Greeks, yet they over- 
threw them, and in turn were overthrown by the barbarians. Fitness for survival 
must be physical. 

"It is well to ask ourselves frankly whether we have not been living in a fool's 
paradise. We have rejoiced in the merits of our political system, in the kind of 
men and women which it has bred, through opening every career to all, through 
stimulating each one to strive to his utmost in his chosen path. In our natural 
rejoicing have we not shut our eyes obstinately to its defects? Have we not 
refused to see that our system necessarily impels those in office to direct their 
energies towards their own re-election rather than towards the welfare of the state, 
to please and propitiate the electors rather than to direct and inspire them, to tell 
them what it is their wish rather than their true interest to hear, and thus in effect 
to substitute the temporary opinions of the majority, unfamiliar with state matters, 
for the vision of the born leaders as the determinant of state policy? We rejoice 
that our system educates the voters in statecraft, that it broadens their horizon, 
that it breeds strong units, but we have been too weak, too self-complacent to 
remedy its defects of leaving those units uncemented, so that they form what may 
be likened to a friable sandstone, a whole which, in spite of being composed of 
extremely strong units, is yet incoherent. 

"The state has as a most important duty this strengthening of the individual 
units, but that does not justify neglecting the equally important duty of perpetuating 
itself. We make a fetish of our political system and regard its designers as 
inspired. They certainly were most intelligent and patriotic, and builded well, 
considering how little actual experimental evidence they had to guide them. But 
we should not hold their system sacrosanct. Indeed, one essential part of it, the 
electoral college, soon proved wholly impracticable, impotent to do its work of 
selecting a president, and because a mere registrar of decisions reached by others. 
This prominent failure shows what their system really was, an attempt by frail 
human beings, with very little to guide them, to devise the most difficult of all 
human institutions, the government of a country. The corruption of our munici- 
pal governments is another clear proof of the fallibility of our forefathers, for all 
these faults result from the environment which they created, and mean that it mis- 
fits human nature in these respects. 

"Naturally erring in the direction of ovcrguarding against the governmental 
fault from which they were smarting, irresponsibility and consequent tyranny, 
they devised a government which, as we now see, is so weak as to be terribly 
helpless, indeed in danger of an impotence which may prevent it from defending 
itself efficiently against aggressors. 



REVIEWS 81 

"It is this weakness that has put us in our present peril. When Germany 
began her attempt to conquer the world, her purpose was evident to every broad- 
minded man and must have been forseen clearly by many of our political leaders. 
It was indeed pointed out repeatedly by contributors to the newspapers, and was 
neither denied nor questioned, but only ignored, with the result, which was clearly 
inevitable and as clearly predicted, that she has been able to fight her enemies in 
detail. A government made strong by the fundamental law of the land would 
have exposed this peril to the voters, and we should not have had for allies an 
impotent Russia, a crushed Belgium, Servia and Rumania, and a sorely pressed 
France and Italy. Indeed, it was the known weakness of our system that made 
the war possible. 

"A curious contradiction is that the weakness of the government is matched 
by a tying of the people's hands. Not only are we debarred from selecting our 
rulers and confined to choosing between candidates administered to us by irre- 
sponsible organizations, but once we have chosen both we and our representatives 
are impotent to remedy an error in choice, by compelling a change in administra- 
tion, as is done with great profit in Britain, France, and elsewhere. Frankly, we 
should face squarely the fact that our governmental system, as the first of the great 
experimental democracies, was the work of apprentices, and we should strive 
earnestly to mend it as soon as we have passed our present frightful peril. 

"The system and checks and balances, in weakening the people, their representa- 
tives, and the administration alike, has put the power taken from them into the 
hands of irresponsible organizations, the political machines. 

"I criticize none. The errors of individual officers, from the constable to the 
President, flow from our system itself. It is the system that needs betterment." 

Songs of Kabir, recently published by the Macmillian Company, price $1.50, 
is so splendid an example of the Oriental genius that we regret to be compelled to 
acknowledge its remarkable translation by a man who accepted titles and honors 
from the British Government and who now, without relinquishing these gifts, is 
consorting with, if not plotting with the enemies of Great Britain and of the 
United States ; Rabindranath Tagore. 

Kabir, musician, poet and mystic, unites in his songs, the mysticism of both the 
Hindus and the Sufis. He was of Mohammedan parentage, lived and died in India, 
and was the disciple, of the celebrated Hindu ascetic Ramananda. By trade, he was 
a weaver, and his poetry is filled with simple metaphors of everyday life, speaking 
directly to the hearts of the people. Disliking external forms and religious observ- 
ances, and even the ascetisicm which might be expected of him, he goes straight to 
the great Heart of life and tells of a joyous love and friendship for the Supreme. 
"More than all else do I cherish at heart that love which makes me to live a limit- 
less life in this world." He is a Bhakti Yogi and all those who seek "Union by 
Divine Love" will find beauty and inspiration in his poems. Here are two of them : 

"O my heart ! the Supreme Spirit, the great Master, is near you ; wake, oh wake ! 
"Run to the feet of your Beloved : for your Lord stands near to your head. 
"You have slept for unnumbered ages ; this morning will you not wake ?" 
"O how may I ever express that secret word? 



"O how can I say He is not like this, and He is like that? 

"If I say that He is within me, the universe is ashamed : 

"If I say that He is without me, it is falsehood. 

"He makes the inner and the outer worlds to be indivisibly one; 

'The conscious and the unconscious, both are His footstools. 

"He is neither manifest nor hidden, He is neither revealed nor unrevealed: 

"There are no words to tell that which He is." 

X. Z. 



82 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 



BOOK NOTES 

Just published, and ready for distribution : 

Abridgment of the Secret Doctrine, $2.00 
Letters That Have Helped Me, Volume II, 75c. 
Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, $125 

These three books have been out of print for some time ; they are now ready in 
new editions, and will be sent, postpaid, at the prices indicated. 



Abridgment of the Secret Doctrine 

Miss Hillard's Abridgment is a condensation of the two big volumes of the 
Secret Doctrine. This attempt to epitomize that monumental work was undertaken 
after 15 years of close study, and with the assistance of a number of other students. 
The Abridgment is not offered as a substitute for the Secret Doctrine but as a 
preliminary textbook; it gives in its 568 pages the essence of Madame Blavatsky's 
own presentation of "the religious and philosophical teachings underlying the 
various ancient systems of religion." It is possible for one to read the Abridgment, 
from cover to cover, in a few week's time (though it will repay more careful study) 
and thus to get a comprehensive view of the ground that is traversed ; the manner 
in which the Secret Doctrine contravenes current modern thought, with its uncon- 
sciously materialistic bias ; the long sweep of evolution that has made man what he 
now is. With such preparatory use of the Abridgment, the student is enabled to 
find his way in the complete work with less bewilderment It also furnishes to 
those who cannot afford to buy those two big and expensive volumes, which contain 
"the most valuable legacy of theosophic information yet given to the world," a 
means of getting the main threads of that teaching. The condensation has been 
made by cutting out the voluminous quotations, and all matter that seemed to the 
editor merely controversial. We are assured in the Preface that nothing has been 
added, save a few notes and diagrams which are clearly marked as additions ; that 
there has been some rearrangement of material but that it is given in the words of 
the original work. 

Letters that have Helped Me, Volume II 

The Letters are those of William Q. Judge; written to a number of students, 
and also to inquirers who asked his help in getting to know the inner meaning of 
Theosophy, and how to apply it in their lives. None knew better than he how to 
tell in the simplest terms what the heart of his questioner longed to know. Indeed 
this very simplicity, this clear vision of the principles that should guide our lives, 
makes a peculiar demand upon the insight of the reader. The unwary, or those who 
lack the desire for light which wakes the understanding may constantly brush aside 
the wisdom of the ages which is here so unostentatiously offered. Too many of 
us are accustomed to pay little heed to a writer unless he employ a fanfare of 
trumpets, impressive pronouncements or startling method of expression, and 
our dulled ears miss, at first encounter, the depth, the power, the wisdom of the 
easy sentences, simple to the point of homliness. To understand, one must live 
with and by these letters they are not for the casual reader. For, looked at more 
deeply, this book is (we quote from the Introduction) "the intimate revelation of 
a luminous and courageous spirit; one of the greatest of those who, by their 
heroism and wisdom have lightened the path in recent centuries." 



REVIEWS 83 

Patanjali's Yoga Sutras 

The rapid sale of the first edition of this work shows that it must be in the 
hands of a large proportion of our membership. It is now offered, however, in a 
most attractive pocket edition, the companion to Mr. Johnston's version of the 
Bhagavad Gita. The India paper makes such a slender, compact little volume that 
we have been asked whether it can possibly contain all that was in the old and 
large edition. Yes, all that was there, and more too ; for Mr. Johnston gave his 
commentaries a most thorough revision preparatory to this edition, and has added 
a number of illuminating comments that will make those who have the original 
book wish this one, too. 

There are several translations of Patanjali's aphorisms. This one of Mr. 
Johnston's has the quality of that close adherence to the original which is only 
possible to the translator who understands not only the author but the thought and 
feeling of the people on whose stem he came to flower. Mr. Johnston has given an 
introduction to each chapter of Patanjali's text, in which he states clearly the import 
of each, tracing the progress made in each, linking it with its predecessors. He 
also throws a swift beam of light onto difficult passages ; and awakens understanding 
by contagion. "So immensely and immediately practical" is the comment made by 
many readers of this edition ; the wisdom of an ancient sage, put into terms that 
can be directly applied to the most modern of problems. 






There has been inquiry about the series of articles on the "Religious Orders"; 
for the information of those who would like to follow the series as a whole, we 
give the list, as so far developed, and the issue of the QUARTERLY in which each one 
appeared. Most if not all of these back numbers may be obtained by any readers 
who wish to keep the series complete. 

"The Religious Orders" 

A series of articles in the THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY. 
I. The Benedictine Rule, July, 1912. 
II. The Religious Orders (Survey), January, 1913. 

III. The Military Religious Orders, April, 1913. 

IV. From St. Benedict to St. Bernard of Clairvaux, October, 1916. 

V. St. Gertrude (the poet of the Benedictine Order), January, 1917. 

VI. The Cistercians, April, 1917. 

VII. Mendicant Orders (St. Dominic), January, 1918. 

VIII. St. Catherine of Siena, April, 1918. 

IX. St. Catherine (continued), July, 1918. 



Several members of the T. S. are very anxious to complete their bound sets of 
the QUARTERLY. There are certain early numbers that are now out of print, and 
these members will necessarily be disappointed in their effort if some of the 
readers of the magazine are not able to go to their rescue, by supplying the missing 
numbers. It is hoped that during the summer there may be opportunity to look 
over old files, and if among them any of the following issues are discovered, copies 
of them will be eagerly welcomed at the Subscription Office of the QUARTERLY 
(P. O. Box, 64, Station O, New York) and will be used for the waiting members' 
sets: 

July, 1903 January, 1906 

July, 1904 October, 1906 

July, 1905 April, 1908 

October, 1905 



ANSWERS 




QUESTION No. 205 (Continued) What can be done to influence consciously the 
condition and place of our next incarnation? 

ANSWER. The condition and place of our next incarnation depend on our 
Karma, and since we create new Karma, good or bad, every day, nay every minute 
of the day, we are influencing the circumstances of our next incarnation every 
minute. And we are doing so consciously in all cases when we choose consciously 
between right and wrong, between good and evil ; and the stronger and more definite 
the choice is, the more far-reaching will be the effect. 

But let the motives be well examined. Let not the effects of a good life be 
blighted by any ardent desire for favorable or enjoyable circumstances in our next 
incarnation. Let us remember this warning in Light on the Path: "He who desires 
to form good Karma will meet with many confusions, and in the effort to sow rich 
seed for his own harvesting may plant a thousand weeds, and among them the giant." 

To try to influence favorably the place and condition of our next incarnation 
is to "seek results, which is contrary to the Law," and "who can attain to freedom 
and not abide by the Law"? In Light on the Path we read: "Desire to sow no 
seed for your own harvesting; desire only to sow that seed the fruit of which 
shall feed the world. You are a part of the world ; in giving it food you feed your- 
self. Yet in even this thought there lurks a greater danger which starts forward 
and faces the disciple, who has for long thought himself to be intending great benefit 
for the world, while all the time he has consciously embraced the thought of Karma, 
and the great benefit he works for is for himself." 

Study this passage in Light on the Path to where it ends by saying: "Live in 
the Eternal," and meditate on it long and deeply. It contains a lesson too important 
to be passed over lightly. T. H. K. 

QUESTION No. 222. Many Christians believe that after death those who have 
died go on loving and helping those left behind, that they know and sympathize 
with every sorrow as they did on earth, that they are in fact closer than before 
death. This seems to me a beautiful and hence a true belief. How does the 
Theosophical teaching of Devachan explain this sense of continued spiritual com- 
munion? Are those in Devachan ever conscious of what happens on earth after 
their death? In what sense is the Devachanic state an illusion? Is there a state 
between incarnations higher than Devachan attainable by those still under the 
necessity of re-birth? If so, what is that state? 

ANSWER. It is well to remember that everything outside of the Absolute is 
Maya, illusion. Devachan is one of these illusions. But one must remember, also, 
that these illusions have a "relative reality." At the least, therefore, Devachan 
must be as real as life in our present world. 

Does the incident known as death work any radical change in individual con- 
ditions? Would not after-death sympathy, etc., depend upon conditions before 
death? For example, consider an event related in a story by Michael Fairless. An 



QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 85 

Abbot in England while in prayer for a monk then absent in Rome, has an intuition 
of a severe temptation assailing the monk. He continued in prayer and the monk 
(in Rome), on the point of yielding, felt a force of resistance rising in him against 
the temptation. Can we think that death would affect such an Abbot's sympathy 
and power? S. M. 

ANSWER. We are not suddenly perfected but are after death what we have 
made ourselves on earth. The victories are won, the crops are planted, here. It is 
the spiritual harvest that is gathered there, but we cannot reap what we have not 
sown. 

The great illusion of the universe is the sense of separateness. As by selfless 
love of others and work for them we conquer that illusion here, in due proportion 
we shall be free from it hereafter. If we remain separate and selfish and hence 
deluded here, we shall be separate and under illusion there. 

Very little has been given out about Devachan. It is said to be a state in which 
we feel that our highest desires attain their full fruition. Obviously these desires 
vary with every individual and hence it would follow that there must be an infinite 
variety of states after death. Those whose desires during earth life were limited to 
some form of illusion and it should be remembered that strictly speaking all things 
short of the Supreme are illusion can only be conscious after death of the working 
out of that illusion, whether its form be a high or a low one. But those whose 
desires were rooted in selfless love for others partake to that extent of the nature of 
the Supreme, the one reality, and are thus real. Their fruition after death will also 
be real and not illusion. 

That such pure love carries with it after "death" continued consciousness of 
loved ones on earth and greatly increased power to help them is attested by a 
wealth of evidence from the "shower of roses" of Sceur Therese of Lisieux, back 
through all the ages. J. M. 

ANSWER. "Entered into rest" would lose its beautiful significance, or it so 
seems, if the dead or those who rest are to be troubled by our worries and woes. 
Devachan has always savoured too much to me of a period of digestion after an 
unwise meal, to be attractive. There was a time in my life when the drowsy satiety 
after a heavy meal seemed desirable. Now I feel that it is something to be 
avoided avoided by care in selecting what I eat and how I eat it. If I thus avoid 
the penalties of gluttony I find that my meals leave me ready to go to work at 
once and to work effectively. Compare this with the description of Devachan in 
The Key to Theosophy and ask yourself if there may not be a parallel here. "The 
necessity of re-birth" may arise from need for further training or from a burning 
desire to help the Master in the world. Read Fragments, Volume I, and see if one 
does not get a wondrous vision of voluntarily returning to birth to serve the Master 
for love of Him. Would this not be the highest kind of "necessity" to the liber- 
ated soul and would it not be a far higher state than the drowsy post-prandial 
experience of Devachan? There would be active effort to get ready for the 
adventure, one would suppose, in close and completely conscious association and 
even union with the Master. G. McK. 

ANSWER. One of my boys is in one grade and the other in another. I hope 
the elder is interested in his brother's progress. I know he helps his brother. But 
I could not let the younger depend too much on this aid. I could not let the elder 
neglect his own work, hamper his own development, by giving too much thought 
and time to the younger boy's- progress whatever the little one's need. That is 
the problem of parent and teacher. Is God less wise? From a purely selfish point 
of view the doctrine presented may seem beautiful. Frankly, to me it is detestably 
selfish and so unbeautiful! Both boys do love each other and sympathize in 



86 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

general. I hope they love me and their teachers. Is God less wise and kind and 
loving than I try to be? Is there a stronger bond than love? 

G. WOODBRIDGE. 

ANSWER. Was it not Mr. Judge who pointed out the correspondences between 
day and night, waking and sleeping, and life (so-called) and death? Would you 
want those whom you love to sit up all night, to go without sleep, just to help 
you? Of course you would want them to keep you in the general consciousness 
of their love; but you surely would not want them so to sacrifice their health 
and life as to put this consciousness into a never-resting effort of will in act, in 
your behalf. Why not be content with confidence in the consciousness of love, 
and in the hope of active reunion, and let our beloved dead have a chance to rest 
and to be refreshed against another Day of association together? S. 

ANSWER. This question is simple enough but the answer is not simple. In the 
first place there is no general answer possible. The reply in any given case would 
vary according to the stage of evolution reached by the person concerned. There 
are people whose physical death makes no difference to their knowledge of and 
sympathy for their living friends. There are others whose death makes an almost 
absolute barrier, just as if a door closed and never opened. And, of course, there 
are all the stages in between. 

Two things govern such communication ; one is intensity of feeling ; and the 
other is knowledge or power or both ; in a word spiritual attainment. Enough of 
either of them is sufficient, and either will supplement the other. 

But these are by no means all the ramifications of this simple question. When we 
speak of communicating with a dead person, what do we mean? Do we mean that 
we reach their souls? That their consciousness during life was so continuously in 
that immortal part of them, that when they died, the friend we knew survived as the 
Soul ? Or, perchance, do we mean that, like most other people, our dead friend, during 
life, lived mostly in his personality, had his chief interests centered upon activities 
and things of the outer world, and consequently, had his heart and consciousness 
pretty well tied into his personality? It takes two to communicate, one to speak 
and the other to hear. To answer this question we must define which part of a 
man it is who speaks and what part of a man it is who hears. 

To touch upon what is meant by "communion" with the dead, leads us into ques- 
tions of consciousness which are too intricate for discussion in the "Questions and 
Answers" Department. We would have to deal with kinds of consciousness which 
are unrecognized and unnamed among Western students and which cannot be under- 
stood until they are experienced. C. A. G. 

ANSWER. It certainly is the Theosophical theory that certain kinds of com- 
munion with the dead are not only possible but frequent. But this does not mean 
that they speak and we hear words. It means in general terms that their love and 
sympathy and desire to help stream straight from their hearts to the object of 
their affections, and surround that person with a bath of protective care and 
strength. It cannot overcome all evil ; it cannot insure us against trouble and dis- 
aster, for it can only effect results commensurate with its own power; but it is a 
force for good without which the world would be still darker and more material. 
Those still alive can also, by their love and prayers, help those who have gone 
before. J. B. 



REPORT OF THE ANNUAL CONVENTION OF THE 



THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY 




Pursuant to the call of the Executive Committee, the Annual Convention of 
The Theosophical Society convened at 21 Macdougal Alley, New York, on Satur- 
day, April 27th, 1918. 

MORNING SESSION 

The Convention was called to order at 10.30 a. m. by Charles Johnston, Esq., 
the Chairman of the Executive Committee, who asked for nominations for the 
offices of Temporary Chairman and Temporary Secretary. On motion duly made 
and seconded, Mr. Johnston was nominated and elected as Temporary Chairman 
and Miss Isabel E. Perkins, as Temporary Secretary. The Temporary Chairman 
appointed a Committee on credentials consisting of Professor H. B. Mitchell, 
Treasurer of the Society, Mrs. Ada Gregg, Secretary of the Society and Mr. 
Alfred L. Leonard of Los Angeles. While this Committee was examining and 
recording the credentials presented by delegates and proxies, the Temporary Chair- 
man addressed the Convention. 

ADDRESS OF THE TEMPORARY CHAIRMAN 

It is always a pleasure and privilege to welcome delegates and members to 
the Convention. This year it is a special pleasure and joy because so many 
Branches are represented here, so many members have come from a great distance. 
Some of them we see now for the first time in ten or fifteen years. We can 
hardly realize in New York, at the centre of the Society, how courageous are the 
members on the Pacific Coast how they must toil with no visible encouragement, 
with none of the stimulus we have at headquarters. We do greatly value the 
work of our members in distant and untheosophical wildernesses. It is, therefore, 
a special pleasure to welcome some of them, and we hope they will get from the 
meeting and from the members here that encouragement, stimulus, and inspiration 
which we are so fortunate as to enjoy because we live in New York. I am certain 
that all the New York Branch members will behave even better than usual, with 
the desire that visiting delegates may carry away good impressions, sincere aspira- 
tion and a determination and inspiration that shall go with them to the distant 
ends of the continent from which they have come. 

MR. HARGROVE: While the Committee on Credentials is completing its report 
I should like to suggest that the delegates present themselves to the Convention. 
I wish it were possible to call the roll. We have with us a number of delegates 
from different Branches, some of whom have come a long distance to attend this 
Convention, and we all want to see them. They in turn do not know which are 
the members of the New York Branch and which are their fellow delegates from 
distant Branches. We can at least make a beginning, and I will present Mr. Charles 
Johnston as Exhibit No. 1. 



88 



THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 



Mr. Johnston thereupon presented Mr. Ernest Temple Hargrove as Exhibit 
No. 2. The Chairman of the Committee on Credentials, Professor Mitchell, then 
came forward to announce that the Committee had completed its report and would 
be prepared to call the roll of delegates, if that was desired. The following visit- 
ing delegates were then asked to rise as their names were called (the delegates 
and members from the New York Branch, whose names are here omitted, being 
similarly presented in their turn) : Mr. Arthur W. Barrett, a member-at-large from 
Fitchburg ; Mrs. Marion F. Gitt, from Washington, D. C. ; Mr. Alfred L. Leonard, 
of Los Angeles, California; Mrs. Regan, Hope Branch, Providence; Dr. Manuel 
M. Urbaneja, of the Nuevo Ciclo Branch of Venezuela; Mrs. Sheldon, Mrs. 
Talbot and Mrs. Lake, of the Providence Branch; Mr. Dower of Syracuse; Mr. 
J. L. Anderson, now of New York, but long a member of the Branch in Seattle; 
Mr. A. J. Harris of Toronto; Mr. C. M. Saxe, a member-at-large from Niagara 
Falls ; Miss Margaret D. Hohnstedt of the Cincinnati Branch ; Mr. Walter H. Box 
and Mrs. Box of Los Angeles; Miss L. Goss and Miss Tasjian, of the St. Paul 
Branch; and our final and best exhibit, Mrs. Gregg, Secretary of the T. S. 

REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE ON CREDENTIALS 

Professor Mitchell, Chairman of the Committee on Credentials, reported that 
twenty Branches were found to be represented, by delegate or by proxy ; entitled 
to cast in the Convention, ninety-one votes. The Committee found that certain 
Branches which had always appointed proxies were not represented, and asked 
that Branches whose proxies were then on the way, but delayed because of the 
great irregularity of the mails, might be included in the list of represented Branches, 
as published in the Convention report (the Branch so added is marked in the 
following list with a star). 



Aurora, Oakland, Cal. 
Blavatsky, Seattle, Wash. 
Blavatsky, Washington, D. C. 
Cincinnati, Cincinnati, O. 
Hope, Providence, R. I. 
Indianapolis, Indianapolis, Ind. 
Middletown, Middletown, O. 
New York, New York. 
Pacific, Los Angeles, Cal. 
Providence, Providence, R. I. 
Saint Paul, St. Paul, Minn. 
Toronto, Toronto, Canada. 



Virya, Denver, Colo. 

Altagracia de Orituco, Altagracia de 

Orituco, Venezuela. 
Jehoshua, San Fernando de Apure. 

Venezuela. 

Karma, Kristiania, Norway* 
Krishna, South Shields, England. 
London, London, England. 
Newcastle-on-Tyne, Newcastle-on-Tyne, 

England. 

Nuevo Ciclo, Caracas, Venezuela. 
Venezuela, Caracas, Venezuela. 



Mr. George Woodbridge moved that the report of the Committee on Creden- 
tials be accepted and that the Committee be discharged with the thanks of the 
Convention for the graceful and efficient manner in which its work had been done 
This motion was duly seconded and carried. 

PERMANENT ORGANIZATION 

The Temporary Chairman announced that the Convention was now in position 
to effect its permanent organization, since the credentials of delegates and proxies 
had been duly passed upon ; he requested nominations for the offices of Permanent 
Chairman and Permanent Secretary. Mr. Hargrove nominated Professor Mitchell, 
President of the New York Branch, as Permanent Chairman ; this nomination was 
duly seconded and carried. He also nominated Miss Perkins as Permanent Secre- 
tary, and proposed that the office of Assistant Secretary to the Convention be 
created, and filled by Miss Julia Chickering. Duly seconded, this motion was 
carried and the three permanent officers of the Convention were installed. It was 
moved and seconded that the cordial thanks of the Convention be extended to Mr. 
Johnston for his services to it as Temporary Chairman. 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 



89 



I never feel that I can take the Chair at this Convention without giving some 
expression to my deep sense of the honour and the responsibility that are involved 
in this, your great gift to me. 

We are not a large gathering; the focus of very great forces does not take 
up much space. Unless we have learned to see in the world of forces, we might 
altogether miss the immense significance of this assembly. We who know the 
function of The Theosophical Society and what it has performed for more than 
a third of a century, know that here are gathered forces that are vital to the 
progress of the whole world; that as we act, so do they. It is a point of very 
great responsibility, and I am correspondingly grateful that you permit me to fill 
this office. 

CONVENTION COMMITTEES 

On motion duly seconded, it was voted that the Chair should appoint the 
usual Standing Committees : on Nominations ; on Resolutions ; and on Letters of 
Greeting. The following Committees were then appointed by the Chair : 



Committee on Nominations 
Mr. C. A. Griscom, Chairman 
Mrs. W. H. Box 
Mr. A. J. Harris 



Committee on Resolutions 
Mr. E. T. Hargrove, Chairman 
Miss Leonarda Goss 
Mr. W. H. Box 



Committee on Letters of Greeting 
Mr. Charles Johnston, Chairman 
Dr. C C. Clark 
Miss M. D. Hohnstedt 

The Chairman announced that next in the order of business came the reports of 
Officers, and called on Mr. Johnston, Chairman of the Executive Committee, for 
the report of that Committee. 

REPORT OF THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE 

Fellow Delegates and Members: In one sense the Executive Committee has 
not much to report. Only one new charter has been issued and a certain number 
of new diplomas. No new territory has been annexed; we have had no civil wars, 
which, by the way, has by no means always been the case in the history of The 
Theosophical Society. But the Committee does not primarily exist to issue charters 
and diplomas. In a sense it exists to represent and embody the purposes of the 
T. S., namely the objects of the T. S. and the principal clauses of the Constitution. 
They should be permanently embodied in the members of the Committee, with the 
result that the T. S. will be at every moment solidly and consistently true to those 
objects and principles. That is really our vital function which we must perform 
twenty-four hours of every day, a function of the utmost significance and import- 
ance. 

I do not think there ever was a Convention at which it was so strikingly evident 
that this was the case, because there was never one that took place when the world 
was so bare to psychical forces, when the spiritual forces were revealed in so clear 
and patent a form. At present we have an opportunity, as members of the T. S. 
and students of Theosophy, such as has rarely been given to any body of people 
in this world, because the whole of mankind is facing spiritual problems and 
spiritual principles and the great majority, whether they wish it or not, will come 
to realize it. 

What is the boundless opportunity of Theosophists who for many years have 
been studying earnestly these principles and have been handling the spiritual pos- 
sibilities which the world is facing in the world war? The responsibility of this 
should to some extent be evident in a world in which many see so little. It is not 



90 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

essential that our vision should be expressed in words or in writing. It is essen- 
tial that we should actually see; our vision has an infinite potency on the whole 
world from moment to moment. If there be three members of the T. S. who 
really see the spiritual issues of the war in their splendour, that is enough ; the 
result would mean something incalculable to mankind for the future. If more than 
three see, the effect is yet greater. Without question, the most potent force in the 
world at this moment in certain ways is the T. S. and therefore, we ourselves have 
a splendid opportunity and a tremendous responsibility. It may mean a difference 
for centuries and eons to come, that there have been and are members of the T. S. 
who genuinely see the issues at stake. Boundless may be the result, incalculable 
the opportunity, infinite is our responsibility. 

Therefore, the Executive Committee which stands permanently for our 
declared Objects, for the great principles of the Constitution, has, I think, had a 
very vital responsibility and I should be very happy to think that it has met this 
responsibility effectively, that these principles have been firmly and consistently seen 
and held, and that the Society has had from moment to moment an open-eyed 
representation in the spiritual world. This view of the tasks and privileges of the 
Committee is the best report that can be made at this Convention. 

MR. HARGROVE : I should like to move a vote of thanks to the Chairman of the 
Executive Committee for his work during the past year. And at the same time, 
while expressing our gratitude for his wise steering of the ship of state, I should 
like to express something else which I believe is in your hearts. Recently, I read 
of an officer at the front who, in the midst of battle stopped and threw out his 
arms in an ecstasy that he was permitted to be there and to live at last in that 
supreme sense. Raising his arms to heaven he cried his thanks aloud. Anyone who 
has been a member of the Society and part and parcel of this work for many 
years, and has survived the experience, must feel when he unites with other 
members in Convention, as if, in the midst of battle, he were granted an oppor- 
tunity to give thanks that he is again allowed to live. 

It is my privilege to speak to various kinds and classes of people, but never 
with the same feeling that I have in speaking to the T. S. If, after being in exile 
for years, a man were to return home and were to use once more the language 
of his childhood, he would have the same feeling that one experiences in addressing 
a gathering of the Society, people who understand and speak the same language ; 
who think the same thoughts. Take what Mr. Johnston said about the war. We 
are a unit at that point. Every real member of the Society knows that the French 
and English are fighting our battles for us, and in more than a national sense, 
because we know that this is an externalization of an age-long struggle between 
the Black Lodge and the White. We have the honour to be enlisted under the 
banner of the White Lodge, fighting for the future not only of humanity but of 
the spiritual world itself. Feeling, as we do, at one on such a point as that, there 
is no need to express things short of the truth ; one ought to feel, and one does 
feel, at liberty to say what is in one's heart. 

Everyone is glad to express to Mr. Johnston thanks for representing the will 
of the Society during the past year, with particular thanks to all the Powers that 
we recognize anywhere, for our membership in the Society and for the privilege 
of once more assembling here in Convention. 

THE CHAIRMAN: We are now to have the great pleasure of hearing the 
report of our Secretary, Mrs. Gregg. 

REPORT OF THE SECRETARY T. S. FOR THE YEAR ENDING APRIL 2?TH, 1918 

New Members 

This has been a year of growth, outer and inner. Of the inner growth we are 
sure to get some glimpses in the Branch Reports and in the Letters of Greeting. 
One evidence of outer growth is our new Branch in San Fernando de Apure, 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 91 

Venezuela, and the 40 new members added to our roll: in the United States, 20; 
South America, 9; Norway, 6; England 4; and Canada, 1. Each new application 
for membership in the T. S. is joyfully welcomed by the Secretary; not because 
it increases our numbers (which in our real work are the insignificant factor) but 
the advent of each new member is like the birth of a child. Being one of the 
members of the Society who believes in reincarnation, the Secretary hopes, as each 
recruit comes forward, that one who has been associated with the Theosophical 
Movement in ages past has again found the old path, and may by devotion and 
determined effort win a firm footing there. Our losses during the year were 5 
three members resigned, and two of our old members have died : Mrs. A. A. Russ 
of Washington whom many of us remember with affectionate regard; and Mrs. 
L. F. Stouder of Fort Wayne whose service in the T. S. has been long and valuable. 



Most of the work of this office is necessarily done by correspondence. At T. S. 
Headquarters the mail is never a task, to be disposed of somehow, and hurried 
into the files ; every line that comes, every inquiry or request is gladly received. 
Occasionally time and strength may not admit of an immediate response; and then 
there are some letters that one wishes to live with, and to ponder over, before 
attempting to put into words the instinctive response of the heart, its deep longing 
that light and guidance may come to the inquirer, with the valour to persevere. 

It is not fitting that the Secretary should urge unduly a still greater use of the 
facilities of the Office. Modesty would forbid, were it not that Headquarters is 
designed to be a clearing house; the Secretary is but spokesman for the Officers 
of the Society whose experience and knowledge is thus made available to all mem- 
bers. When Branch Reports come in, speaking as they sometimes do, of dis- 
couragements and disappointments in the year's work, one wishes that the conditions 
had been presented at the beginning of the year, when there was still time to 
suggest means that had been used to meet similar difficulties, or to give a fraternal 
hint as to the direction in which to look for the cause of the trouble. Many of us 
know by experience that the very effort of will required to face our problem and 
to state it to another often gives sufficient impetus to lift one above the fog to the 
spot where one can see what the next step is. 

Branch Activities 

Reports from the Branch Secretaries were awaited with some anxiety this 
year, lest the stir of outer events and demands should have made less clear and 
mandatory the overwhelming need for true vision, close thinking, steadiness, and 
loyalty in the service of the Masters who are guiding in this world upheaval. There 
was no need for such anxiety as the Reports are distinctly encouraging ; they show 
that Theosophy is indeed proving to be both a life and a method of arriving at 
truth by which to live. In some places it has been found difficult to hold meet- 
ings regularly, in England the air raids have caused the dispersal of certain 
meetings ; in this country the extreme severity of the winter proved an obstacle. 
It is encouraging that such bars to outer meetings have, however, only lead mem- 
bers to closer union. There is also a noticeable increase in the number of Branches 
that are holding meetings for members only, in addition to their public meetings. 

Some Branches print a syllabus of topics for the season, covering the main 
points of the philosophy ; others centre their meetings around some book which 
members and visitors, alike, are asked to study preparatory to the meeting, bring- 
ing in all the side lights they can gain. Whichever method is followed, a study 
of the reports shows that the Branches which do the most effective work are 
those in which all members take their full share, standing ready at all times to do 
whatever needs to be done. 



92 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

The Theosophical Quarterly 

It is not likely that any other magazine published in the world to-day is so 
completely meeting the needs of such a varied class of readers as does THE THEO- 
SOPHICAL QUARTERLY ; this is possible because it meets them, not at the circumference 
but at the centre of those real problems of life, common to us all, with which it 
deals. To some extent it might be possible to record what the magazine has done 
for our own membership, but how would it be possible to estimate the influence 
that it has exerted, during the past year, and in previous years, on the prosecution 
of the war? The change that has come in the attitude of press and people is 
tremendous. It is not necessary to claim this as an accomplishment of the QUAR- 
TERLY; but when you find one magazine standing quite alone in its presentation 
of a great issue, when, as you watch it holding steadily to its course and giving 
able reasons for its position, you find that one public organ after another begins 
to proclaim the same truth, you are bound to conclude that this extraordinary 
change must have a cause, and may be caused by the agencies at work in and 
behind that one magazine whose vibrant message still sounds. 

Mention has often been made of the libraries, as an avenue for reaching people 
who are not in touch with our Branches; and in some centres subscriptions for 
sending the QUARTERLY to their libraries are a fruitful portion of the Branch work. 
A new field is opened in the libraries attached to the training camps for soldiers, 
subscriptions for this purpose would be welcome. 



The Quarterly Book Department 

We are indebted to the Book Department for new editions of two important 
books, with which to start the work of the coming year. Mr. Judge's second series 
of letters, gathered under the title Letters that have Helped Me; Volume II was 
an English publication and could not be reprinted there under present conditions. 
Our Book Department has just brought out an edition, by arrangement with the 
English editors. The book is not as widely known as Volume I but it will richly 
repay study. 

The long promised new edition of Patanjali's Yoga Sutras is also just com- 
pleted. Mr. Johnston has made a number of additions to his illuminating com- 
mentaries on the original text. It is pocket size, like his Bhagavad Gita, and as it 
is printed on India paper it makes a delightful book to carry in pocket or handbag 
for study during the odd moments. 

When Miss Hillard decided to offer to students her Abridgment of the Secret 
Doctrine many felt that it would be impossible to condense such a vital piece of 
work without destroying it. Time has, however, demonstrated the value of the 
Abridgment and the first edition is exhausted. A new edition is being brought 
out by the Book Department, and is promised for June. Some Branches are using 
this book as a text book, for class use, supplementing it with references to the 
complete work when the interest in certain topics warrants exhaustive study of 
them. 

There has been some demand, during the past year, for the publication of 
small pamphlets on Karma and Reincarnation ; also requests for the publication in 
book form of "Letters to Friends" and the series of "Elementary Articles" from 
the QUARTERLY on a Rule of Life. Members who feel that there is need for these 
or for any other new publications are invited to write to the Book Department. 

A Personal Acknowledgment 

First, let me record my sense of profound gratitude to the Masters who have 
sustained me in the work that it has again been my privilege to do for the Society. 
Next, come heartfelt acknowledgments to my fellow officers, with whom the bond 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 93 

of service in a common cause is so close that many words and frequent meetings 
are not needed to give me the constant sense of their support and cooperation. 

Under the direction of the Assistant Secretary, the work of mailing the 
QUARTERLY, taking care of the subscription lists, etc., is now conducted from New 
York; as also the publication of books and the filling of book orders. In this 
work .there is much detail and many members have been very generous in giving 
of their time to it. I am asked to make particular mention of the four who address 
the magazine envelopes for each issue, Mrs. Gordon; Mrs. Helle, Mrs. Vaile, 
and Miss Graves; also of the following members who have certain divisions of 
the book work: Miss Youngs, Miss dickering, Mrs. Miller, Miss Wood and 
Miss Lewis ; other members being also on call for emergency work. 

Looking back over the year past, reviewing from my little watch tower what 
the Society has done and has stood for in this world crisis, I find two opposite 
feelings surging up in my heart pride in the Society and surprise that one so 
weak and so limited as I should be permitted to take a share, humble though it be, 
in such momentous undertakings for the regeneration of the world. 

Respectfully submitted, 
ADA GREGG, Secretary, The Theosophical Society. 



MR. GRISCOM : I am going to ask once again for the privilege of expressing 
our gratitude to Mrs. Gregg. One of the Masters once wrote that ingratitude was 
not one of their faults, so we have warrant for trying to express as fully and 
warmly as we can our gratitude to the Secretary of the Society who has done 
so much for it. What then is gratitude? It is clearly a feeling, but there is also 
reason involved in it. We know of Mrs. Gregg's long service, of the kindly, gentle 
manner in which she conducts her correspondence ; so we have something to be 
grateful for. But yet there is more in gratitude than the sense of benefits that have 
been conferred. There is the element of loyalty; there is the impulse of affection, 
so that in trying to represent you truly, at this time, I want to gather together 
from the heart of each one of you here present, those little flowers of affection; 
want if you like to put it so, to gather a spiritual bouquet ; and in order to have 
a Upadhi for it I have asked Mr. Perkins to get me some flowers and I will now 
hand Mrs. Gregg this little bouquet, which it is my privilege to present to her on 
your behalf as an outer token of your love and gratitude. 

The Chairman gave the Convention an opportunity to express its heartfelt 
thanks to Mrs. Gregg by a rising vote, which was most enthusiastically given. The 
Chairman then asked Mr. Hargrove to take the chair so that he might present the 
report of the Treasurer of the Society. 



REPORT OF THE TREASURER T. S. 

The finances of the Society have been a mystery from the beginning, and they 
remain such. The Report for the year, which I am going to read you in a moment, 
will show that our receipts from membership dues, from subscriptions to the 
magazine, and from the gifts of friends, amounted this year to less than our 
necessary expenditures, leaving us a deficit in the general fund of $26.23. Such 
a deficit is quite the normal and appropriate way for the general fund to stand, if 
we are to judge by past history. Our finances, however, are in better condition 
than the statement of a deficit might indicate, because of the special funds which 
we keep for an emergency. The Special Publication Account has in it $312.00, and 
the Discretionary Expense Account $483.00, making our total reserve funds $795.00 ; 
deducting from that total our deficit in the general fund, we have in reserve a 
balance of $768.37. 



94 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Report of the Treasurer T. S. 
From April 26, 1917 April 23, 1918 

GENERAL FUND AS PER LEDGER 
Receipts Disbursements 

Dues from Members $728.40 Secretary's Office $124.18 

Subscriptions to the THEOSO- Printing and mailing the THEO- 

PHICAL QUARTERLY 559.91 SOPHICAL QUARTERLY (four 

General Contributions 185.00 numbers) 1,334.00 

Cancelled check 7.25 Expense of Subscription De- 
partment of the QUARTERLY.. 32.00 

$1,480.56 Miscellaneous 19.00 

Balance April 26, 1917 2.42 Collections 43 



$1,482.98 
Deficit April 23, 1918 26.63 



$1,509.61 $1,509.61 

FINANCIAL STATEMENT 

(Including Special Accounts) 

General Fund 

April 26, 1917 $2.42 Disbursements $.1,509.61 

Receipts 1,480.56 



1,482.98 
Deficit April 23, 1918 26.63 



$1,509.61 $1,509.61 

Special Piiblication Account 
Balance April 26, 1917 $312.00 Balance April 23, 1918 $312.00 

Discretionary Expense Account 
Balance April 26, 1917 $483.00 Balance April 23, 1918 483.00 



$795.00 
Deficit in General Fund April 23, 1918 26.63 



Final Balance April 23, 1918. . . . $768.37 

On deposit Corn Exchange Bank, April 23, 1918 $795.12 

Outstanding checks, not yet cashed 26.75 

$768.37 

H. B. MITCHELL, Treasurer. 

In presenting this Report, the Treasurer wishes to anticipate the vote of thanks 
which in the past has been so courteously extended to the Treasurer's Office, and 
wishes, in anticipation, to direct the greater part of that thanks to Miss Youngs, 
the Assistant Treasurer, who throughout the year has done a very great part of 
the work, the keeping of the books, taking the deposits to the bank, acknowledging 
remittances. She has left me the pleasure of receiving the letters which accompany 
the donations, and has taken the work upon herself. So for myself and for the 
Society, I wish to express thanks to Miss Youngs. 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 95 

MR. JOHNSTON : I was once present when a young person was asked, "Can 
you drive a team of horses?" He answered, "Yes, if nothing happens." That is 
the position of the assistant to the Treasurer. It is a great privilege, and one 
that has been finely carried, but if anything happens, it is the Treasurer who is 
responsible. The money end is symbolic of a definite, accurate command and 
mastery of material forces. Without that no spiritual power can get itself fully 
incarnated. The Society is indebted to the Treasurer for the integrity, vitality, 
and effectiveness of the Treasurer's department, without that integrity and fidelity 
we should get nowhere in any real sense. It is as the embodiment of these invalu- 
able and rare qualities that we thank Professor Mitchell and his assistant, realizing 
that the responsibility rests with the head of the department and that there many 
thanks are due. 

Mr. Johnston's motion of cordial thanks to Professor Mitchell and his assistant, 
Miss Youngs, was duly seconded and enthusiastically voted. On resuming the 
Chair, Professor Mitchell called for the report of the Editor of the QUARTERLY, 
Mr. Griscom. 

REPORT ON THE THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

The first Convention of the T. S. I attended was in 1888, in Chicago. Madame 
Blavatsky was still alive, and sent a long and interesting letter : Mr. Judge was 
there and presided part of the time: Dr. Buck was there and presided the rest of 
the time. So far as I know, I am the only member who was there and who is 
still alive. Great changes have taken place in the world in the last thirty years ; 
there are almost inconceivable differences in the Society. With that thought in 
mind, I was turning over the third volume of the Path, and read in the last part 
of the volume a few paragraphs which Mr. Judge wrote as a sort of valedictory, 
and a word of greeting to the future. I was struck with the fact that I could have 
gotten up here and read those three or four paragraphs, written thirty years ago, 
so pertinent are they to present day conditions. The great lesson of Theosophy 
is that what is true, is true for all time and places. 

Those paragraphs, written with Mr. Judge's kindly spirit, his humour, and in 
his gentle way, are full of that fervor and devotion which was his essential char- 
acteristic. He said some practical things about support of the magazine, calling 
attention to the fact that the majority of readers of the Path were not members 
of the T. S. ; and that is equally true of the QUARTERLY today. He said that 
over half the readers and half the support of the magazine were not from mem- 
bers. He referred to the fact that such a magazine would not be published at all 
as a secular enterprise, for hope of reward or any kind of gain. Such a magazine 
could not be expected to pay, ought not to pay. He himself would not attempt to 
get it out were it not for his profound belief in the Lords of the Lodge who stand 
back of it and give it power and value. Today the work of the QUARTERLY with 
its limited circulation would be of little value if it were not that back of the ideals 
which we endeavor to set forth are those Great Beings who can do what we can- 
not do can use our feeble efforts, and carry them to a glorious and wonderful 
success. So much for the past. Mr. Judge dismissed it in his characteristic way. 
He said, the past is past, and Karma will take care of it. What about the future? 

This is what I particularly like about his message of thirty years ago, "You 
want watchwords for the coming year, take faith, courage, constancy." I cannot 
conceive of anything at the present time that could be better watchwords for us, 
with the War and all that it means for everyone of us, whether fighting over in 
France, or here in this country. That reminds me of a letter which an American 
soldier wrote to his friends : "My job is a very easy one. All I have to do is to 
fight the Boche ; you people have to fight Pacifism, Socialism and slackers. I 
would rather fight the Boche." We must fight these enemies here at home, gen- 
erally speaking, the forces of materialism and of evil, and what better watchwords 



96 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

can we have than these three given by Mr. Judge thirty years ago : faith, courage, 
constancy ? 

MR. HARGROVE: A day or two ago Professor Mitchell said that it was possible 
he might be made Chairman of the Convention, and in that case he intended to 
ask me to move a vote of thanks to the Editor of the QUARTERLY. It is not wholly 
appropriate for me to do so, for many reasons, although I have many reasons for 
wishing to do so. Here is a wonderful opportunity for those who ought to be 
writing for the QUARTERLY, such as Mr. Perkins, Mr. Miller and many others. 
Suppose we hear from them. 

MR. PERKINS: I could find it in my heart to thank the Editor for relieving 
some of us who are not contributors, from that form of service. It is also a 
privilege to have the opportunity to speak on behalf of all those here, testifying 
gratitude to the Editor of the QUARTERLY. How truly, number after number, it 
mirrors the life of the inner world, brings it right down to us in words on the 
printed page. It is a great help to us all in the life we are trying to live. 

MR. MILLER: From the hint given, I judge that the QUARTERLY intends to 
establish a contributors' column; it will doubtless be welcome. I can testify to 
the great benefit which I personally receive from the magazine and I believe that 
that is the experience of all who read it. I must confess for my own part I have 
been a member for only a year that it, as well as the movement which it repre- 
sents, is the most vital and soul-stirring with which I have ever come into contact. 
One must welcome with open arms, like the man in France, the opportunity of 
gaining the insight and inspiration of the QUARTERLY and the movement. 

MR. HARGROVE: There is a feeling, I am sure, on the part of everyone here, 
that owing as much to the QUARTERLY as we do, it would be difficult to express 
our debt. The sentence that Mr. Griscom quoted from the letter of the man in 
France: It is our "business to look after the Pacifists, Socialists and Slackers", 
both within us and around us, seems to define admirably what the QUARTERLY tries 
to do and what Mr. Griscom tries to see that it does. 

Going back to the Bhagavad Gita, let us remember the three qualities sprung 
from nature, Tamas, Rajas and Sattva. The slackers are the perverted expression 
of Tamas; Socialism the perverted expression of Rajas; and Pacifism the perverted 
expression of Sattva. And let us remember that these things exist in ourselves. 
The Socialists, the Bolsheviki, those who want to take the law into their own 
hands, have their exact counterpart in the rebellious element in our own natures. 
Then there are the Pacifists, the so-called peace-lovers, who think themselves 
spiritual and superior, they are the perversion of spiritual life, the perversion of 
spirituality. 

The mission of the QUARTERLY is to make these things understood, to clear 
them up, and to point out that the battle taking place in the world at the present 
time is being fought out on many planes in man's own nature; to point out that 
the front line is well taken of, with a man in command today whom everyone 
trusts; but that the lines that are in danger are what a French writer called the 
interior lines, the lines where Pacifists, Socialists and slackers hold forth. 

And we shall not be able to recognize these until we have recognized their 
existence in ourselves, for we are blind about outside things until, to some extent, 
we have vision regarding inside things. No one can recognize the slacker until 
he sees the slacker in himself ; no one can see the snake-Pacifist, until he sees 
the snake-Pacifist, in himself. When he has learned to abominate and loathe that 
reptile in himself, he will begin to see the foul thing that the Pacifist is in the 
outer world. 

The clue to self-conquest is in self-understanding, self -recognition. All these 
things, the QUARTERLY has been saying for us year after year. They cannot be 
said often enough. The whole world needs to hear them. Take the bewilderment 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 97 

of so many good people in the Church. They are not Pacifists; but men like the 
Archbishop of York, who, in a sermon in Trinity Church on Good Friday, told 
people they must think kindly of Germans, think kindly of the rulers of Germany, 
and also must remember that German soldiers are ignorant and are merely doing 
what they are told ! Think kindly of devils, think kindly of those who are tortur- 
ing children! How insane a recommendation! (Apparently it does not matter 
what you think about the children so long as you think kindly about those who are 
torturing them.) 

If you stop to think of that blundering statement, it will dawn upon you, if 
it has never dawned before, that there is no understanding of Christianity or of 
any exoteric religion, apart from the light of Theosophy, which unveils that which 
was veiled, illumines that which was dark. Those of our members who are try- 
ing to enter into the meaning of brotherhood by living it, ought surely, and as 
the result of reading the QUARTERLY, to see how mistaken the Archbishop was. 
He would have said he was preaching brotherly love. Thanks to Theosophy, you 
know that he was preaching a gross perversion of brotherhood. Thanks to Theo- 
sophy, when you meet people inclined to be brotherly in that way, you know exactly 
where you stand and what you think. And you realize that you owe much of your 
understanding of Theosophy to the THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY, though this means 
to the things behind the QUARTERLY, to the Masters to whom we owe the existence 
of the QUARTERLY and of everything else worth while in life. So, in thanking Mr. 
Griscom for his really ceaseless work for the QUARTERLY, we are also expressing 
our gratitude to the T. S. and for all which the T. S. represents in our lives. 

MR. ACTON GRISCOM : It has been my privilege for eleven years to hear the 
report of the editor of the QUARTERLY. I have never risen to my feet before 
because I was the son of the editor, but that fact gives me the privilege of being 
in closer touch with the work and of knowing how much labor is involved in proof 
reading and actual writing, in getting out each number of the QUARTERLY. There- 
fore, this year, I want to say that it is not easy to edit such a magazine, because 
there is more work to be done than just writing articles or sending proof to the 
printer, or getting articles from other people. It requires many days for each 
number, and those who are in direct contact with the editor and his staff can best 
appreciate how much work is involved. 

THE CHAIRMAN : The Chair has been called an optimist for his belief that he 
could get from those present their real opinions of the magazine. I think he has 
received them in the speeches that have been made, yet he is hopeful that he may 
receive them more in detail; he would like to hear from members what they read 
first; to what department they first look; what articles or series have helped them 
most ; what they would most like to see emphasized during the coming year. Such 
statements would be very helpful to the editor. I am going to postpone this test 
of my optimism, however, until after luncheon, for which I suggest that we now 
adjourn. The Standing Committees are requested to meet during the recess, and 
to be prepared to report at the afternoon session. Luncheon has been ordered for 
12.30 at the Hotel Albert, corner of University Place and llth Street. All delegates 
and visiting members are cordially invited to assemble there, as the guests of the 
New York Branch. I feel that one of the very great opportunities of the Conven- 
tion is this recess, when we can get to know each other face to face, can talk with 
those with whom we are corresponding all the year. So I have always believed 
that the period of adjournment was one of the most delightful and profitable 
opportunities of the Convention day. 

A motion for adjournment until 2.30 was duly made, seconded, and carried. 



98 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

AFTERNOON SESSION 

The Convention was called to order at 2.30 P. M., and the Chairman announced 
that following the regular procedure he would ask first for the reports of the 
Standing Committees, beginning with the Committee on Nominations, Mr. Griscom, 
Chairman. 

REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE ON NOMINATIONS 

Your Committee has this report to make. The officers that have to be elected 
are two members of the Executive Committee, to fill vacancies that occur auto- 
matically. We recommend that the present incumbents, Ernest T. Hargrove, Esq., 
and Charles Johnston, Esq., be re-elected members of the Executive Committee 
for a term of three years. For Secretary of the Society, we present the name of 
Mrs. Ada Gregg; for Assistant Secretary, Miss Isabel E. Perkins. For Treasurer, 
Professor H. B. Mitchell; for Assistant Treasurer, Miss Martha E. Youngs. 

THE CHAIRMAN: Are there other nominations for any or all of these offices? 
If not, I will call for a vote on the Committee's report as it needs no seconding. 
It was duly moved and seconded that the Secretary of the Convention be instructed 
to cast one ballot for the six officers nominated by the Committee. This ballot was 
cast and they were declared duly elected. 

REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE ON RESOLUTIONS 
MR. HARGROVE: Mr. Chairman and Fellow Members: 

The Committee on Resolutions submits to you certain stock resolutions which 
we pass annually with cheerfulness and unanimity. 

I. RESOLVED, That Mr. Charles Johnston, as Chairman, is hereby re- 
quested to reply to the letters of greeting from our foreign Branches. [This 
is not a stock resolution, but one into which we put feeling and thought. 
We want to assure our members everywhere, that we appreciate their 
thought for us ; and that we feel and rejoice in their participation in our 
meetings. We ask Mr. Johnston to convey our fraternal regards, good 
wishes, and thanks.] 

II. RESOLVED (and this is our stock resolution), That this Convention 
of the T. S. hereby requests and authorizes visits of the officers of the 
Society to the Branches. 

III. RESOLVED, That the thanks of the Convention and of the Society 
be extended to the New York Branch for the hospitality received. 

MR. SAXE: Every year this resolution of thanks is perfunctorily put through 
in this way, and we out-of-town delegates and members do not get a chance of 
expressing our pleasure, and gratitude for the kindness of the New York Branch, 
for our happiness on this occasion. I know all the others will join me in saying 
that we want to express it, and want to express it more than is done in this motion. 

MR. HARGROVE: The fourth is a resolution which the Committee submits 
and which we feel quite confident will meet with approval: 

IV. Whereas, The T. S. in Convention assembled, on the 24th of April, 
1915, adopted the following resolution, to wit: 

"Whereas, The first and only binding object of The Theosophical 
Society is to form the nucleus of a Universal Brotherhood of Humanity; 
and 

"Whereas, In the name of Brotherhood, war as such is being denounced 
from many pulpits and lecture platforms, and in newspapers and maga- 
zines, with appeals for peace at any price ; and 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 99 

"Whereas, Non-belligerents have been asked to remain neutral ; there- 
fore be it 

"RESOLVED, That The Theosophical Society assembled hereby declares : 

"(a) That war is not of necessity a violation of Brotherhood, but 
may on the contrary become obligatory in obedience to the ideal of 
Brotherhood ; and 

"(b) That individual neutrality is wrong if it be believed that a 
principle of righteousness is at stake"; and 

Whereas, In April, 1917, the following resolution was adopted, to wit: 

"Whereas, The United States of America, by act of the President and 
of Congress, has finally declared that neutrality is no longer possible in 
a conflict that involves the deepest principles of righteousness, and has, 
in obedience to the ideals of Brotherhood, declared war against those 
who are carrying on 'warfare against mankind' through 'an irresponsible 
Government which has thrown aside all considerations of humanity and 
of right, and is running amuck.' And Whereas, By sacrifice alone can 
evil be overcome and righteousness be established ; Therefore, Be it 
resolved that we, the individual members of The Theosophical Society 
here present, do hereby express our heartfelt thankfulness that the country 
in which the Society was founded has thus shown its recognition of the 
ideal of Brotherhood; and Be It Further Resolved, That we do hereby 
pledge our utmost loyalty and endeavour to the cause upon which the 
country has entered, until through the energy of sacrifice the war be 
brought to a victorious conclusion in accordance with the terms of the 
President's message." 

And Whereas, Much misunderstanding is still prevalent in regard to the 
war and its purposes and the principles which should govern individuals and 
nations in their attitude toward the war, 

Therefore be it Resolved, That the members present at this Convention 
should now be asked to express their convictions freely on these subjects, 
for their mutual benefit and ultimately for the clarification of the conscience 
of the world. 

It may perhaps seem to you that we, as a Committee, ought to have undertaken 
to express for you your opinions in regard to the misunderstandings prevalent 
about the war. But it would be impossible to speak for all of you. It is infinitely 
better to lay the question open so that everyone may speak for the Theosophy 
that is in him. The utmost that any one person can do is to pass on to others 
that particular ray of the one eternal truth which is able to work its passage into 
his mind. By the collection of these rays of truth, it is possible to obtain a synthetic 
view, and get more light than can be given by any individual, or by any committee. 

I should like to call attention to some of the misunderstandings. There is the 
misunderstanding that comes under the general head of the object of the war. We 
have been told that we are fighting for nothing but democracy. It would be well 
to find out the meaning of the term. Then there is the misunderstanding for which 
some of the Churches are responsible, the theory that the truly religious attitude 
is one of aloofness ; a notable example of which is to be found in the Pope. Again 
we have the very frequent misunderstanding that even if compelled to fight we 
must do so without hatred, an attitude of calm superiority toward what is taking 
place beneath us. I hope an effort will be made to cover these and many other 
points. Each individual should speak from his own life and experience. 

THE CHAIRMAN : We will then resolve ourselves into a committee of the 



100 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

whole and I will first call upon Mr. Leonard of Los Angeles, to speak for his own 
view and experience. 

MR. LEONARD: In 1915, when we read in the QUARTERLY of the resolution on 
the war which the Convention approved but decided not to adopt, some few of us 
subscribed wholly to that resolution, feeling that it should have been passed. We 
put our sentiments into writing and sent them to headquarters. 

I want to emphasize the fact that I am a militant. I believe in the justness of 
this cause; that it is of a spiritual character which many of us are not able to 
see or comprehend. We are fighting, I feel sure, for spiritual truth. 

So far as the Pacifists or neutrals are concerned, I have no sympathy with 
them. There are other so-called Theosophical Societies whose members are not 
attempting to espouse the cause of the White Lodge ; the same is true of many 
religious societies. But there are some few of us militants, on the Pacific Coast, 
who are trying to live in harmony with the spiritual message that was brought to 
us, in this city, by H. P. B., forty years ago. Everyone is entitled to his own idea ; 
mine is in favor of that original 1915 resolution. I am a fighter. 

The Chairman expressed the hope that none present would repress their desire 
to give expression to the deep feelings in their hearts on this subject of the war. 
Knowing what the inner response was, he would like to hear a corresponding outer 
expression. 

MR. ACTON GRISCOM : I think I have the privilege of being the youngest person 
here, and on that ground I should like to be one of the first to speak. I wish I 
knew how to say with vigor and force, some of the things which are in all of our 
hearts. I do fully believe that this is the Master's own war ; that He has taken 
sides ; that, mankind being what it is, we are either on His side or on the other 
side ; that it is a continuation of that old war in Heaven ; that St. Michael and all 
his angels are therefore fighting against the Black Lodge. It is our privilege to 
fight on their side, if it is in our power so to understand and discipline ourselves. 
It is not merely an exoteric war, in the sense that any soldier who enlists with 
the Allies is on the Master's side, but an esoteric war, involving spiritual principles. 
This being the case, it is an object and obligation for everyone who considers 
himself on the Master's side to maintain a standard of courage such that all he 
does may be a fitting expression of what the Master stands for. 

Many people in the Church say openly that war is a horrible thing ; this has set 
me thinking. I have been trying to make up my mind whether this carnage is 
really more horrible than the lives of vice and sin which too many men have been 
living, lives familiar to us, but in the eyes of the Master, perhaps a more terrible 
thing than war. It may be that our standard of judgment is biased by what we 
think would bring to us the most suffering. If we think of ourselves going into 
the fight and as wounded we have immediate appreciation of the horrors of war ; 
if we sin or if a friend sins, we do not so clearly see that horror. I am of the 
opinion that the so-called horror of war is nothing to the horror of sin and evil. 
If people could realize that, it might help them to the necessary patience, courage, 
and endurance ; it might help them to stand the outer wounds, suffering, and 
horror. It would be easier to maintain courage under them than if one were to 
experience as vividly the horrors that really exist in evil and sin. If the horrors 
of war could be set in right proportion, it would very greatly help our understand- 
ing and our thinking about this war. 

THE CHAIRMAN : I know the thoughts upon the war of many who are present, 
and I know how strictly the members of the New York Branch have been trained 
in the method of suggestion, in presenting a thought to those who may be in 
opposition, so that it will percolate into their understanding, and finally come to 
them as a feeling of their own. This was illustrated in what has just been said 
by Mr. Acton Griscom. I would remind the Convention that here we have no 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 101 

strangers, so we can use our own, our natural language, can speak the truth that 
is in us, without need to consider whether the audience is fit or ready to receive it. 
As a Committee of the Whole, we can be frank, and it is with that invitation to 
frankness that I renew the invitation for full expression. If any association of 
people is qualified to see war as it is, to discriminate between outer and inner 
horror, it is this audience. 

DR. CLARK : I think many will hesitate to say what they feel, because in face 
of the world situation today, they know they cannot express themselves adequately. 
But that hesitation should not be true of us, because, as the Chairman of this 
Committee has stated, there is a ray of truth in everyone which we receive by 
virtue of our membership in the T. S. Through that membership, we have access 
to an inexhaustible supply of truth that is not so accessible to others. As we read 
magazines and books, guided by our Theosophic method, we find portions of the 
truth in them. We make the most of the truth found there; we try to use it for 
the people around us ; yet sooner or later we are brought up against the limitations 
of those who wrote the books. There is an example of this in an admirable address 
made by M. Lauzanne, in a meeting on April 26th, where Chief Justice Hughes 
presided. It was an address that anyone might be proud to make; he spoke of 
the determination of France to continue to the end in this war of justice and 
right. But he stopped there ; he could not know the source of these things ; he did 
not know that war, in the defence of justice and truth, is war on behalf of the 
Masters, from whom those virtues proceed. 

It seems that, as recent members of the Society, we owe an expression of 
gratitude to those who made the T. S. possible for us, who have brought within 
our reach the inexhaustible sources of truth about life. If it were not for the 
members whom we heard speak this morning, telling of their connection with the 
Society when it was founded, if it were not for their devotion, their sense of 
values, their willingness to sacrifice everything, where should we be today? We 
might be among the Pacifists. We owe everything to the T. S. What is it that 
the Society has enabled us to see? It enables us to see the truth about the War. 
The War brings to our attention, externalizes so that we must see it, the reality 
of the issue between good and evil, the forces of spirituality and those of 
materialism. Subordinate issues, Pacifism, Socialism, and so on, are derived from 
the materialistic philosophy that sees nothing more of life than the surface. Thanks 
to the teaching that was imparted by the Masters, and passed on, through the 
Society, to us today, we know something of the spiritual realities that make up 
life. So, by seconding, in every way possible, the Cause of the Allies, we are, in a 
very small measure, expressing part of the great 'debt of gratitude we owe to the 
White Lodge for what it did in establishing its representatives on our low plane 
of life. 

MR. J. F. B. MITCHELL: I have something very much on my heart. We do 
know that this war is only the externalization of the war that has been going on 
for ages in the hearts of men between the White and Black Lodge. Every man 
gives his heart to one side or the other ; is obeying one side or the other ; if he is 
not fighting evil, he has become an ally of the Black Lodge ; he is taking the force 
that comes from the spiritual world and using it against the White Lodge. Every 
man is fighting. There is a nation that has sold itself, body and soul, to the Black 
Lodge; it is a unit in their fight against the White Lodge, against the coming of 
His Kingdom on earth through His rule over the hearts of men. In such a war, 
there can be no compromise. We shall soon be asked to compromise. It may come 
in the form of some plea for Brotherhood, that we should be magnanimous ; or 
it may come as a request to differentiate between the German people and its rulers. 
We are going to be asked to stop short of the complete triumph of the Master's 
cause, before the German nation is turned from its course and has repented on its 
knees. If we yield to this plea, and from any motive of physical gain, to save 



102 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

physical life, money, or wealth, we leave evil uncrushed, in so far as we do that, 
we retard the coming of His Kingdom. The failure to do our utmost to crush evil 
is to sell the Master's cause for thirty pieces of silver. 

MR. Box: When Mr. Hargrove referred to me, it seemed as though I should 
have made some response. He thought he owed a debt of gratitude to us for 
coming here; it is the opposite of that. If you knew the feelings with which we 
boarded the train, the feeling of intense responsibility that rested upon us with 
regard to the Pacific Coast, you would know how profoundly grateful we are to 
be here, and for the chance to re-form links that were broken long ago. I tell 
you this from my own heart. It does not seem to me that you realize with whom 
you live. It does not seem that you who live here can realize what a centre this is. 
We were told that tremendous force was emanating from this centre ; that does not 
half express it. I would tender our deep gratitude for being permitted to spend 
a few days here with you. 

The subject that we are considering is so stupendous that one does not know 
where to begin. What strikes me particularly is our deep responsibility. In this 
connection, you will find in the Theosophic writings of Mr. Judge and Madame 
Blavatsky references to the fact that there comes a time in the lives of individual 
men and women when we must make a choice; about middle life we decide whether 
we are going to Heaven or Hell or neither. This is true also of a Race ; it has to 
make that choice, to decide to go to Heaven, or to destruction in Hell, or to go to 
sleep, remaining inert like an Eastern mummy until Nature comes and crumbles 
the wrappings off, so that it comes to life and sees its responsibility. The great 
Aryan race, of which we are part, has reached the point where it has to make that 
choice, it has to go up, down, or asleep. That is the deep responsibility which 
I should like everyone to see and feel clearly if we do not feel it we cannot do 
anything about it. (I want to express if I can find any way to do it, what I have 
felt in trying to reach the New York centre. Here you understand things. Thou- 
sands of miles away it is harder to understand.) 

We have three alternatives : we can take up the sword of Christ, can fight for 
the soul of man; we can join the Black forces; or we can fight for them by 
refusing to fight against them in our own hearts and outside, wherever the issue 
comes. The Black forces are marshalling to take possession of the gateways, 
trying to take the keys of Heaven ; and they will do it unless we fight. It is either 
go with them to Hell or keep the gates of Heaven out of their hands. 

Some of us are familiar with the idea that certain people are spreading around 
(to me, it is clearly a mistaken idea) that Christ is about to appear among us. 
We have been led to expect a forlorn creature on the streets of Chicago or London, 
as the potential head of the Church. In contrast, I should like to call to mind 
one of the pictures of the coming Avatar left by Mr. Judge. Reviewing the three 
great predecessors of Christ, he said the next Avatar would combine all the 
qualities of the other three with the fighting qualities of Krishna : that would be 
the very incarnation of St. Michael. The fighting priests of France are a symbol 
of the coming Avatar. Rather than look for the meek and mild Jesus of whom 
some speak, we should do well to seek the coming Avatar in the front trenches 
of France, where we should, perchance, find Him covered with mud, blood, and 
human corruption. 

MR. PERKINS: The news that we read in the papers today, from the war, was 
not heartening, at first glance. We had come to expect headlines that made us 
feel comfortable, safe, and happy. As the war has gone forward, however, we 
have come to realize that it is not that kind of war at all. We must look back 
two hundred years to see the plan of the Black Lodge taking shape in Prussia. 
Decade after decade, see that plan maturing, until the time came when the devils 
were ready to strike. We are given to believe that this old plan of the Dark Powers 
was well known in the White Lodge, and on July 31st, 1914, when the die was 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 103 

cast, I believe there was no surprise, that our Master simply drew His sword, and 
that there was a certain sense of relief that the periodical struggle between White 
and Black at last was on. When the morning paper shows a driving in of the 
Allied lines, we like to think there is a plan behind it all, on the part of the White 
Lodge. When we read that the Dark Powers have been getting ready on the mate- 
rial planes for many generations, let us remember that the White Lodge has its 
plan, although not so clearly evident to us, on the plane of battle. 

I have been asking myself why it is, why the members of the Society have 
such a supreme responsibility. Foch is now in supreme command; this is a great 
gain. Above him, we know, however clearly he may or may not recognize it, stands 
our Master with His drawn sword guiding the long campaign. There is such a 
thing as recognition, and I believe that this Society can recognize the plan of the 
White Lodge ; recognize that there is a clear and definite plan, and that nothing 
but victory could lie at the end of that plan. It will help if we begin recognizing 
in this Convention, in our own hearts, that we, as members of the Society, can even 
reinforce that plan, with our hearts, our wills, and our lives, by recognizing its 
campaign on the battle field of our individual hearts. I believe that part of the 
reinforcement of the Allies in France is in this Convention room at the present 
time, immediately available and under our control ; that we may here and now and 
in the days to come, give ourselves and everything there is in us, steadily and 
joyously to the personal battle reflected in our hearts from the battle front in 
France ; seeing at the end of that conflict, victory, and knowing that the Master is 
leading our combat as well as the one in France. And the more clearly we recog- 
nize that the White Lodge has its plan of campaign, very much older and very 
much wiser than that of the Black Lodge, so far as we make it possible for these 
forces to be used, so far as we give over to the White Lodge our co-operation, 
our assent, just so far we may win, not only the contest in our own hearts, but at 
the same time may rightly feel that we are sharing in that great campaign which 
began on Calvary, and ends, though not yet, when the victory of Calvary shall be 
interpreted truly, in the glorious victory of the White Lodge. Even in this Con- 
vention we have it in our power to share in that great campaign and great victory. 

MR. HARRIS: I want to speak for Canada. The way in which the Canadians 
rose (except in one spot), to respond to the call of duty, was quite a revelation. 
It was not their desire to gain territory, we have enough of that. It was hardly 
desire for extension of trade. It was not altogether a love for the King or for the 
motherland. It was not an expression of fear. The one great reason seemed to 
be that people were aroused by the horrors committed by the Germans. Also they 
seemed to feel and rise to the high demand for the defence of the weak and perse- 
cuted. I do not think that many looked at the deeper questions. They hardly 
needed to, for they had been taught to respect what the Germans violated. They 
felt the call of duty to go and fight ; and it seems to be a case of a nation acting 
on its intuition. Surely Canada will gain greatly by it. In the early days, the 
difficulty was not to get men to go, but to keep them back, all wanted to go. I 
happen to be connected with a small manufacturing establishment; there was no 
hesitation there; all who were fit to go went; out of our twenty-four employees 
who met the military requirements, twenty-four enlisted; we only wish that we 
had more to send. 

THE CHAIRMAN : I think we have gained something very real from this. Any 
community or individual that gives all it has, will understand. A factory with 
twenty-four men, and twenty-four went, there is no need to comment further on 
their understanding of the war. 

MR. WOODBRIDGE: I have been away from New York for some time, so I 
have been obliged to do some of my own thinking; and one .of the things I have 
been thinking is that it is worth our while to look for the sources of the support 
of Germany. We can trace this support back (I am speaking now wholly on 



104 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

my own responsibility) to three classes : the Vatican and its partisans ; the hyphen- 
ated German Jews ; and the Socialists of all kinds, from Progressives to I. W. W.'s. 
If we study these, as Mr. Hargrove suggested, in the terms of our own lives, we 
may find that these three typify some of the coarser and more brutal sins, qual- 
ities, etc. 

I yield to no one in my love of the Catholic saints and mystics and their books 
and teachings, and I use their potent aid daily. But I feel that the Vatican party 
in the Roman Church is separated from Catholic mysticism. The political organiza- 
tion, so to speak, of the Roman Catholic Church has sold itself, body and soul, 
to the Germans for a mess of potage. As a small boy, I heard a man, high in 
the Catholic hierarchy, say that as a student in Rome, in the days of Piux IX, 
when temporal power prevailed, he had prayed that this power might be taken 
from his Church, when he saw the things that were legalized in a city said to be 
the seat of God on earth. He prayed the world might be cleansed from what had 
been allowed in Rome. The hope of regaining temporal power in Rome would 
explain the otherwise inexplicable abandonment of Cardinal Mercier and the Bel- 
gian and French nuns and priests, outraged and murdered, persecuted and martyred, 
in the name of Kultur by the Germans. 

As for the Jews, the second of Germany's sources of support, they have, in 
England, a Chief Justice and members of the Cabinet; in France high honours 
have been given them, as also in Italy, a Jew having been Senator and Mayor of 
Rome; while in America all roads are open to them, with Jews on the Supreme 
Court Bench and in the Cabinet. Yet the German and Russian Jews have turned 
on the Allies to aid their enemies, for purely materialistic reasons. It is inter- 
esting to a believer in Karma, to see how quickly retribution has fallen. Russia, 
betrayed by her Jewish Bolsheviki, has been given to Germany, and where the 
Germans have organized towns and provinces, pogroms are already revived. 

As for the Socialists, I believe all forms of Socialism can be traced to a 
materialistic, non-spiritual base, however much the noble word of "brotherhood" 
may be used, and degraded. I feel that democracy might be defined as an attempt, 
by mere forms of law, to give to men what they are unwilling to work for ; and 
for that reason, democracy is selfish, unbrotherly and contrary to all laws of evolu- 
tion on all planes. 

I have been enjoying the great privilege lately, of reading aloud Mark Twain's 
Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, and in that atmosphere, I have come to 
appreciate better what she has done, is doing, and can do for France and the world. 
If only, both as individuals and as a nation, we would study her life, adopt her 
standards, and follow her example, I feel certain we could drive out the evil in 
ourselves, defeat the Germans and make possible a glorious victory for the Cause 
of Christ. 

MR. MILLER: What Mr. Woodbridge has just said (and I think we all feel 
that we should like to take some part in it) .suggested to me the great blessing 
that the T. S. presents, for it gives us the feeling that we can have a part in the 
conflict by staying at home and fighting, within ourselves, the Black Lodge which 
has control of our common enemy, the Germans. I think that now, when everyone 
itches to get into the physical fight, we should hold hard to the feeling that there 
is a battle we can wage daily and hourly. And we should realize, too, the help 
that lies back of that saying, "Every time we lift a finger, angels hasten to hold 
it up." The inspiration that the New York Branch meetings and the Convention 
afford is in the thought that we can have an influence on this war through "faith, 
courage, and constancy." 

MR. BARRETT: There is just one thought in my mind, the distinction between 
superstition and true spirituality. Recently, I heard a minister speak of the wonder- 
ful spiritual awakening that has come to the world through this war. He felt that 
we were inclined to be too credulous; saying that the Catholic priests in France 






THE T. S. CONVENTION 105 

were taking advantage of the war to lead the people back into superstition. But I 
am convinced that this is not the case, that it is a true awakening, and that men 
have gone forth to make the supreme sacrifice, as Christ did. The women, too, 
are doing their part, cultivating the land, working in factories, and so on. We 
cannot honour them too much, they are fighting our battles as well as their own. 
Through it all stands forth the spirit of the Christ. Even if some regard as super- 
stition the stories of the Comrade in White, yet I think the spirit of Christ is in 
it all. 

MR. JOHNSTON : I had not intended to say very much on this subject because 
I am going to speak tomorrow, but I should not be willing not to go on record 
here. The light which is shed on the present war by the whole Theosophical illu- 
mination, has a particular significance in the Secret Doctrine, where we are told 
of a vital fundamental crisis, a war between two great Races which dominated the 
world long ages ago. There was not on the part of the White Lodge either slack- 
ing or Pacifism. It was war in the literal sense of killing and being killed. Only 
because that race of evil was practically killed out was it possible for humanity 
to come forward into the spiritual awakening that we now see and in which we 
have a part. Darwin's law covers the struggle and survival of the fittest, but we 
must know that it is the spiritual race which is the fittest to survive. If we study 
the annals of that ancient war, we shall get over our sentimentality. 

No deep student of Theosophy thinks this will be the last war. In the final 
war that is some time to come, we shall have the extermination of the races of 
evil to the last man, woman, and child ; and that is the only chance for the races 
of spirituality. There are divine provisions for the evil races ; they will have a 
chance, after being killed, not to be devils. There are provisions enough after- 
wards for repentance, to avail themselves of the scorching purification which 
awaits them by passing through the gates of death. Therefore we must be rid of 
our sentimentality. Death is their only hope of deliverance; and the only hope 
for the races of spirituality is the destruction and annihilation of the races which 
have given themselves willingly to the powers of evil. 

MRS. GITT : I feel that war is a necessity. This war is the most natural thing 
in the world, if we look at it from the common sense point of view. We are not 
ready for peace. These conditions have been piling up for centuries. Past wars 
did not purify; we shall have wars until we are purified. But if any portion of 
humanity had lived up to their religion, we should not have had this war. We 
might have difficulties between nations but such a war as this is the inevitable 
outcome of the condition of things. It is the expression of the individuals com- 
posing the nations. The individual heart has to be purified before the nation can 
be purified. A card issued by the Chapel expresses the idea best: that we are 
really fighting for the things for which Christ died. 

If all people had the advantages that Theosophists have in the QUARTERLY for 
getting at the real basis of the war, they would have better understanding. In 
many Churches there is such a crude understanding. I heard a Sunday School 
Superintendent say, "If there is a God, why does He not stop this war?" I said 
to myself If God's ways were comprehensible to us, they would not amount to 
very much. When we are fighting in a right spirit and with a right understanding, 
we are warring for the very things for which Christ stood. 

MR. GRISCOM : I should be very sorry to think that by talking too much I had 
blurred any of the impressions we ought to take away from this meeting and from 
the speeches we have heard this afternoon. I felt after listening to what Mr. Box 
had to say to us, that I should prefer to go home then. Yet there are two or 
three things one would like to say on a subject of this size: one is almost a per- 
sonal matter, though of general significance. I am a Quaker, a birthright member 
of the Society of Friends. For two hundred and fifty years, they have stood for 



106 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

a form of Pacifism ; one of their cardinal principles is that they do not believe in 
war; and they have been consistent in that view, even to the point of suffering 
persecution. Yet in this war, practically the whole Society of Friends has come 
out in favour of the war, stating that they feel there are spiritual principles involved 
here, and thus they are not violating the principle laid down by their founder 
when they give adherence to this war. This has significance : people are unusually, 
astonishingly, alive to the spiritual principles behind this conflict. It could not be 
otherwise if it is all the things we believe it to be. 

There is another aspect which I wish I could make clear. Why have we all 
come here this afternoon? Why have some of these delegates taken the trouble 
and fatigue of coming three thousand miles? Let us ask ourselves individually. 
There must have been some very definite reason and purpose. Mr. Miller called 
attention to the fact that those of us who cannot go to France and fight can take 
our part, just as much and just as really, by fighting here against our lower 
natures. It is not easy to understand that, but it is so. Then take Mr. Hargrove's 
idea of the way in which the Lodge can work through an organization like this 
if we are true to the spirit of the Lodge. We have only a few hundred members, 
our magazine has a small circulation. Yet we claim we have had, as a Society, 
a large influence on the thought and history of the world: and we have. The 
Theosophical Society, which we have all worked for and loved, has been the physi- 
cal instrument through which members of the Lodge can pour their force and 
accomplish their purposes on this plane. This is a thought that will help us in our 
own periods of discouragement. The members of the Lodge have at their com- 
mand an absolutely unlimited reservoir of force. They could wipe all evil out of 
the world in an instant if they wanted to. What limits them is our capacity to 
act as channels for that force. Whether it is force for our salvation, or force for 
the destruction and conquest of Germany, we limit them. The reason why we 
come here, is because, deep down, we have the feeling that by coming to a meeting 
of this kind, we are opening our hearts to that influence and power which can 
accomplish such great and wonderful things, not only in us, but in the world. 
There is no limit to what can be accomplished by any one of us, if we simply open 
ourselves to that power. 

Take examples in history. Mr. Woodbridge referred to Jeanne d'Arc, who is 
an excellent example of that kind. She was a very young and ignorant peasant 
girl, but because she had a pure heart and a burning love of France, and had noth- 
ing in her nature that was antagonistic to the Lodge, they were able to work 
through her and to do things men call miraculous. Each one of us could become 
an instrument just as potent, if we were willing to eliminate from our natures the 
impediments, the little sins and small weaknesses which act as obstacles and barriers 
to the Lodge's using us as instruments. 

Miss HOHNSTEDT : I hardly know whether to speak first of the Cincinnati 
Branch, or of the war. Our Branch work has been the same as in other years. 
We have held weekly meetings and have carried out our syllabus. There has been 
much sickness, and often there have been only about a half dozen members able 
to attend our meetings. I think that if we only hold fast, we are doing a great 
deal. 

As for the war, our part of the country is, just at present, very enthusiastic 
for the American side, but it seems to me that if there were the least chance of 
the enemy's winning, there would be a great big hurrah on the other side. Our 
Branch realizes how necessary it is to make a stand for the Race, and also to 
condemn wrong wherever it is. We try, each one of us, to remember the necessity 
of considering what he is doing to eliminate evil in himself, before he begins on 
the evil in anyone else. 

MRS. Box: For a very long while I have prayed: "Pray for no peace until 
God give you a true peace." 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 107 

Miss Goss: There is a statement of Madame Blavatsky's that has been our 
centre of thought in the St. Paul Branch, your infant Branch. It is to the effect 
that to any great cause one can contribute one's thought, one's service and one's 
money. We in the St. Paul Branch have not much to give in money, or in the 
service of our hands; yet, in our struggling way, we have tried to give in all 
these three ways. We have felt that it is a marvellous privilege to have been born 
into the world at this time. We have felt, also, the obligation that comes with 
this privilege, and, to the extent of our strength have tried, with sincerity and 
with unanimity of purpose, to help win the war over here. We have tried to keep 
before us what Dr. Alonzo Taylor said : that every act of our lives should be 
viewed in its relationship to the war. We are constantly asking ourselves how 
each act would affect the war and its outcome. 

Miss TASJIAN : All day today, I have felt the great privilege it has been for 
me to be here. There is not much I can say for the St. Paul Branch, as I have 
been away from there for the last six months ; but for myself, I should like to 
express gratitude to Miss Goss, who first lead me to the Society, and so to the 
privilege of being here today. 

MRS. REGAN : In regard to the war, I can only say that it would be impossible 
for me to express what I feel in my heart. Even if I could it would be quite un- 
necessary for it has all been expressed here. Like Mr. Woodbridge, I do not do 
my own thinking. I am glad to have it done for me in the future as it has been 
done in the past. Sometimes I do feel helpless, when I realize my responsibility 
as a member of the T. S. Then I take that article in the QUARTERLY, "War Seen 
from Within." From that I know just what I can do; I know that the battles 
fought in France are not the only battles of the war. 

Hope Branch is much as in the past. We have our study class on Tuesday 
evenings. During the last two months we have taken up the study of the "Elemen- 
tary Articles" in the QUARTERLY relative to the art of living. 

MRS. GORDON : You know the sentiment of the Middletown Branch and their 
attitude toward Germany. It is very pronounced, particularly with our blind 
member. We had some difficulty with a German member for a time, but that is 
past and everything is lovely. If you will permit me, I will read the brief report I 
have to make for the Branch : 

"The Middletown, Ohio, Branch offers its greetings to this Convention. 

"Since the last Convention occasion, one of the members of the Middletown 
Branch has resigned. We are now seven. The study of the Abridgment of the 
Secret Doctrine has engaged the attention of the Branch during this and part of 
last year. I am told many interesting meetings have resulted. The Secretary feels 
that each member is doing the best he can for the advancement of Theosophy. One 
member is doing well in her Church work and her work in other organizations in 
which she is interested, where control, patience and gentleness are often sadly 
needed. When met and questioned by people, our blind member seems always to 
have the right word to drop into the right place. The members of the Branch are 
trying, I think, to live the doctrine, and I believe the influence arising is felt by 
those who come into contact with the earnest and devout ones of the Middletown 
Branch. 

MR. HARGROVE: I know you must be regretting that it is not possible on this 
occasion to hear from everyone ; many from whom we should like to hear have 
not been called upon to speak. 

When we take stock of the enemies which confront us, I suggest that we as 
students of Theosophy, must call to mind much that Madame Blavatsky said in 
regard to the Church of Rome. Now of recent years, and particularly through the 
QUARTERLY, many of us have learned to appreciate what is best in that Church. It 
would be deplorable if any member of the Society were unable or unwilling to 



108 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

recognize spiritual experience wheresoever found. We surely must have discovered 
that truth is not confined to any one religion; that truth is to be found wherever 
the heart seeks it, and that whether it be in such books as the Bhagavad Gita, or in 
the Dhammapada, or in the writings of the Saints of the Church of Rome, or other 
Christian Churches, our minds should be receptive to any revelation from the 
spiritual world. That is a very important feature of our movement : our absolute 
open-mindedness toward truth, no matter what its origin. Only if we are open- 
minded to truth and beauty, shall we be keenly aware of their opposites wherever 
found. 

In the Church of Rome there exist two opposite poles. One has already been 
spoken of : the revelations of the spiritual world that are to be found in the writ- 
ings of the saints (revelations of immense significance and helpfulness to every 
student of Theosophy). But there exists also the opposite pole, an organization 
seeking power, seeking to dominate the conscience of the world, seeking its own 
will, and because seeking its own will, opposing the will of Christ, the will of the 
spiritual world, the will of the Logos. In every case where a nation has failed 
in this war, Russia, Ireland, it is because it has been seeking its own ends first, 
and righteousness either not at all, or as a very poor second. Russia was induced 
to forget honour, its Allies, the Cause of Christ, and to concentrate its attention 
on its own supposed wrongs. Ireland has concentrated its attention on its own 
supposed wrongs and injuries, and has betrayed its trust and denied its Leader, 
denied Christ and rejected him, announcing to the world that it is thinking of 
its own self rather than of anyone else, the very words Sinn Fein, meaning "our- 
selves." 

Rome did the same thing, pretended to be neutral, to be above the melee, just 
as Pilate pretended to look with impartial eye on Christ and his accusers. This 
was done in the name of fatherhood, strangely enough. It was not only Rome, 
not only the Pope. I have here a letter from the Archbishops of the American 
Church to the President of the U. S., signed by Archbishops Gibbons, O'Connell, 
Ireland and a number of others, stating that, in their own words, "We have prayed 
that we might be spared the dire necessity of entering the conflict." These Arch- 
bishops prided themselves on the fact that during the years of our national 
hesitancy, deplored by every true American, they were on their knees praying such 
a prayer; prided themselves on the fact that they did not want to proclaim them- 
selves openly as to the rights of the war; did not want to declare themselves for 
their Master. (Neither did they want officially, formally to declare themselves, 
for Satan.) Here is a news-cutting: "Cardinal Gibbons defends the war policy 
of the Pope; declares the Pope has been truly neutral." He defends him by say- 
ing that, because he is neutral, there is no fault to be found with him. We know 
what the attitude of the Roman Clergy has been in Canada, and what it has been 
in Ireland, and also what it has been in too many cases in this country. It is only 
fair to refer to some prominent Catholic laymen in this country who have boldly 
declared themselves, regardless of the attitude of the Pope. Mr. William D. 
Guthrie declared the other day, at a meeting of the Cathedral Parish, "All these 
ruins of our cherished temples and sacred monuments, many of them still smoking, 
their very stones, cry out to us from Catholic France, Belgium and Poland to 
avenge them. All these martyrized priests and nuns call to us to punish their 
murderers. And with God's help and the indomitable spirit and fortitude of our 
country, we will avenge and punish, if it shall take seven upon seven crusades to 
do so." 

As members of the T. S., we may thank heaven and all the powers therein, 
that there are still people calling themselves Roman Catholics, who so absolutely 
disregard the Pope as to use the language of Mr. Guthrie. But that in no way 
alters the facts so far as the Vatican is concerned. To express it very mildly, 
the Vatican is not friendly to the Allied Cause, and where its influence is para- 
mount, we, as members of the Society, should be on guard against it. 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 109 

At the present time, it is our privilege to use Theosophy to bring understand- 
ing to the darkness of the world ; so it is our privilege to watch for its hidden as 
well as its avowed enemies. It would be worse than folly to attack the Catholic 
Church; and there would be no reason for it. We should be grateful to that 
Church ; it has kept alive more good things in the world than most of us begin to 
understand. But let us always remember that the Catholic Church is one thing 
and the influence of the Vatican is another thing. Wherever you find an Irish 
priest you may suspect that his god is hatred of England and that he has given 
himself, soul and body, to his god. In the case of a certain type of Italian priest, 
you may suspect that he will be worshipping himself, because with one eye he is 
always seeing himself in a cardinal's hat. Power and love of power explain much 
that is operative in the world today. The spirit of the Vatican is the exact oppo- 
site of Catholicism, the exact opposite of the spirit of the saints, and of the spirit 
of the priests in France referred to by an earlier speaker. And because it is the 
opposite of that spirit, it is clear to many of us that it is our duty to warn others 
of the danger that confronts the Allied Cause from that direction. But this is 
only one feature of the situation which has its peculiar dangers. In other Churches, 
too, there are elements of danger. There are good and virtuous people whose 
peculiarity it is to bewail warfare, and who cry aloud about "the tragedy of seeing 
all these young lives wasted." From the ordinary point of view it is tragic ; but 
that is looking at the loss on the surface. Let us suppose that someone who is 
ill is commiserated because he wears a mustard plaster. You know it is going 
to cure him of his illness. Clearly, therefore, it is the serious trouble that calls 
for commiseration, not the mustard plaster. Let us see the war in the light of 
that analogy. Are those "young lives" being wasted? It was suggested not long 
ago that instead of being wasted these men are building up the real Army of Reserve. 
It is these men who will, in the end, turn the scale of the White Lodge against 
the Black. 

The light of the White Lodge comes down from above. Its power on this 
plane is limited by the receptivity of this plane ; by the ability of human beings 
to respond to it. Those who give themselves to the cause of the White Lodge, 
who die with what has been called the valour, the heroism, of the cross, who, in 
Theosophical terminology, die to the lower quarternary, constitute in themselves 
a link between the spiritual world and the material plane. They die with an in- 
tensity of self-surrender, an intensity of purpose, which are in harmony with the 
will of the White Lodge, thus forming a bridge by means of which the power from 
the central spiritual sun can reach us, enabling the Lodge to manifest on this plane 
and sweep everything before it. That is why those men, so dying, do constitute 
the Army of Reserve which some day will make it possible for the White Lodge 
to triumph over its enemies and our own. 

All kinds of pessimistic, "defeatist" talk, which regards the war as a "shambles," 
and which sees death only and never the resurrection, can and should be met by 
students of Theosophy with intelligent optimism. It is their privilege to bring 
understanding where there is lack of understanding; to expose what is vicious 
and malignant and to clear up that which is merely darkened. 

The same thing is true in connection with Socialism, Bolshevism, anarchy, 
rebellion, and the belief widely prevalent that the war was caused by kings and 
aristocracies. The war was not caused by kings and aristocracies but by a nation 
which had sold itself to the devil for power, which welcomed that leadership be- 
cause that leadership could lead it to power, and which recognized in its Emperor 
the embodiment of its own spirit. 

Do not let us be deceived by terms ; do not let us use words in a sense that 
is totally misunderstood by other people. It is folly to worship words. Take the 
word democracy. (I do not wish to offend, but, this being a meeting of the T. S., 
one ought to be able to be more frank than before an ordinary audience.) Many 
of us were brought up to go on our knees to the word democracy. Many people 



110 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

are using it to include splendid things, honour, nobility and truth. In the Greek, 
from which our English word is derived, it means mob rule and nothing else. 
I for one do not believe in that and I don't believe you do. In the same way that 
democracy is misunderstood, aristocracy is misunderstood. It is unsafe to say a 
word for aristocracy; it suggests the idea of a haughty individual, trying to kick 
someone. Yet the literal meaning of the word is "government by the best." If 
that meaning were accepted, we can see that it would at once force us to de- 
cide, who are the best? Evidently, it would not be a choice between very rich 
and very poor. The spirit of the man who spends his life worshipping money and 
who gets it, is exactly the same as that of the man who spends his life worship- 
ping money and does not get it. 

I wish I could get another word for our ideal, how would you describe a 
man who worships honour ; who sees in service his supreme opportunity, who be- 
lieves he was born into the world, having birth and education, that he might give 
of his best to his fellows ; who despises possessions and knows that money can 
give him nothing of real worth? Such a man is superior to most rich men, and 
undoubtedly superior to the poor man who longs, with all his soul and being, 
that he might be rich. I leave the choice of a name to you. 

It would be folly in any case to see this war as a rich man's war. All of us 
would agree to that. And it would be folly just as great to suppose that it is 
waged for a form of government, whether there should be a king or a president, 
a monarchy, an autocracy, a republic. The point is that the war is for Right and 
against Wrong, between the powers of Right and those of Evil. For that very 
reason, as a result of the war, there is growing up in this country a real aristocracy, 
not of money, but of sacrifice and of service. It is what the country needs, noble 
men and women; a spirit of service. They will be found in time, from all the 
ranks of today ; for it takes more than one generation to do it. Those who are 
giving themselves without thought of reward to the cause of Theosophy, to the 
cause of truth and justice; who are laying down all that they have and are for 
that cause; who see in themselves, and are glad to see in themselves, so much 
dross in comparison with that supreme good ; who live today, as the aristocracy 
of tomorrow must live, only to learn how to give more and more to the supreme 
Self : surely such people, wherever found, are the best, and may be regarded as 
the fore-runners of a Nobility every one of us would revere. Is the Lodge a 
democracy, a mob? It is made up of gods, and we, sooner or later, have got to 
join their ranks as gods. That is the destiny of mankind: humanity must be lifted 
from the mud and mire of self ; must be raised to heaven as children of a com- 
mon Father. Democracy yes, again, if that be taken to mean nobility and truth 
and honour, let us use the word to speak to the understanding of other people ; 
but, among ourselves, need we introduce an element of confusion, need we misuse 
terms to satisfy inherited prejudice? How absurd to suppose that a real Nobleman 
thinks of himself as superior to others ! Does a Master, a disciple, think of him- 
self in that way? Where do we find humility except in the noble-hearted? Ger- 
many has never produced a nobleman in all its hideous existence, and never will ; 
it has no more understanding of the word than it has of honour. What we must 
hope is that with the help of the war, this country will evolve a true understanding. 
And it is the privilege of every father, every mother, to labour so that their 
children shall become noble in that sense, the servants of all, and therefore the 
leaders of mankind. 

But I repeat : to begin with, we, as individuals, must be perfectly clear as to 
what is the vital element in this great war. If Germany were beaten, and yet 
there remained in the world the supposition that it was the mob which had won 
the victory, that would be, in the eyes of the White Lodge, no victory but defeat. 
Let us ask ourselves, therefore, each one of us, for what the White Lodge fights, 
remembering that it is for the defeat of the outer enemy which confronts us, yes, 
of course, but also for the defeat of the enemy which tries to take us in the rear. 



THE T. S. CONVENTION 111 

What is it that the Lodge longs to see triumph; what are the truths that it is 
striving to vindicate; what are the principles that it is upholding? Liberty: yes, 
but does that mean license! Equality: but does that mean dragging down all to 
the depths of the lowest, or does it not mean rather, an equality of opportunity 
to sacrifice self ! 

Finally, let us carry home with us such rays of truth as we have gathered at 
this Convention, and begin all over again with greater understanding, with wider 
recognition, with new faith and hope, making it our aim to embody the spirit of 
Theosophy, and to realize more clearly than ever that for the world as for our- 
selves, that also is the real end and object of the war: that the knowledge of 
divine things may become embedded in the hearts of men. 

THE CHAIRMAN : There are other delegates and members-at-large present 
from whom we should greatly like to hear, but it is already late, and I fear that 
we ought instead to turn to the report of the Committee on Greetings, of which 
Mr. Johnston is Chairman. 

MR. JOHNSTON : Would it be the wish of the Convention that this Committee 
should report at any length on the very interesting and gratifying letters that have 
been received from Branches and from individual members? 

THE CHAIRMAN : It has been customary to have a brief report from the Com- 
mittee on Greetings, and a more complete account of those letters in the Conven- 
tion report as published in the QUARTERLY. 

MR. JOHNSTON : Then, with your sanction, the Committee will make its report 
very brief, on account of the lateness of the hour, relying upon the courtesy of 
the Editor of the QUARTERLY to afford sufficient space in the July number for a 
more complete record of the greetings received. 

REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE ON GREETINGS 

A number of the letters that have been turned over to the Committee come 
from England, and they ring with the war. When you read them at length in 
the Convention report, you will be struck, I am convinced, with the way in which 
they turn into action what we have been saying in principle and in thought. We, 
in America, have members at the front, though not many. I had the pleasure of 
meeting one last summer, a youth with ardor and inspiration, and I was happy to 
get a postal card from him from France. We are represented there but by no 
means to the same extent as are the British Branches. In many cases it has not 
been possible for them to hold Branch meetings because of the air raids. [I wish 
to God we had air raids here now, and we would try to keep our meetings going 
in spite of them.] 

There is the Norfolk Branch, of which we read with satisfaction that all the 
members are in service. There is an excellent letter from Newcastle and also 
from the London Branch, which like all of the English letters rings with the 
spirit of the war. 

In Venezuela the situation is different; they have difficulties there connected 
with the war which are much harder to meet than where the issue is openly drawn. 
[Two letters from Venezuela were then read.] The various letters I have read to 
you, and the others as well, have a significance which they have never before had, 
because of the way in which they show in action those principles which have 
been brought out here in spirit, thought, act, and will. 

THE CHAIRMAN: It remains for us to accept this Committee's report and to 
take action on its suggestion that the Editor of the QUARTERLY be authorized to 
print selections from the letters not read and from others that the delayed mails 
may bring us. [This was duly voted, with sincere thanks to the Committee.] 
With that report the formal work of the Convention draws to a close. The Chair- 



112 



THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 



man has announcements to make about a New York Branch meeting this evening; 
Mr. Johnston's lecture on Sunday afternoon ; and the informal tea following it, 
at this studio. He would then be glad to entertain a motion for adjournment. 

MR. WOODBRIDGE: I should like to say that it is customary in the Army to 
have a salute to those who have fallen on the field of honour. Every time today 
that I have looked at the bust of Mr. Judge, over there, and the picture of Madam 
Blavatsky, I wish we could stand in silent salute to those who have passed before 
us and to whom we owe so much. This salute was given by standing. The Con- 
vention then adjourned sine die. 

ISABEL E. PERKINS, Secretary of Convention 

JULIA CHICKERING, Assistant Secretary of Convention 



COMMENT 




OCTOBER, 1918 

The Theosophical Society, as such, is not responsible for any opinion 
or declaration in this magazine, by whomsoever expressed, unless con- 
tained in an official document. 

GOD'S PEACE TERMS 

THE QUESTION is not : on what terms France or England, Italy 
or the United States the last to enter into this divinely ordained 
conflict between God and the Devil may be ready to make 
peace ; it is not even : on what terms Belgium and Serbia, equally 
outraged by infamous tyranny, may be willing to make peace. The 
true question is: on what terms is God willing to make peace? And 
any government which, without seeking to learn God's peace terms, 
through humility and prayer, shall venture to come to a decision on this 
deeply spiritual question, will incur a tremendous responsibility, and 
will become accountable to God Himself. 

For it is God's high law that has been violated. And it is God Him- 
self who demands reparation. He has entrusted to the nations which, 
explicitly or implicitly, are faithful to Him, the august work of punish- 
ment, the vindication of His most holy law. And that law will be 
vindicated, to the last grain of sand, to the uttermost farthing. There 
is no possible doubt of that. Nor is there the smallest doubt that any 
nation which may now be willing to compound the German felony against 
God will have a share in Germany's punishment. It is not simply a 
question of what terms we shall mete out to Germany; it is far more a 
question of what terms God will mete out to us if we fail now ade- 
quately to interpret, adequately to execute God's most holy law. 

What, then, is Germany's crime? There have been, in the past, 
wars between nation and nation, between tribe and tribe, which have 
involved no deep violation of spiritual law. We do not say that there 
have been wars in which no spiritual law, no spiritual principle was 
involved. That would be impossible, since there is no act or fact, 
whether in man's life, or in the universe, in any region above or beside 
or beneath the life of man, that takes place without the presence of 



114 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

spiritual principles, the activity of spiritual laws. But there have been 
many wars which have been simply an expression of the great principles 
of development, the interplay of races and sub-races; wars planned by 
the divine law either to call forth certain virtues and qualities in a young 
and growing race, or to correct certain excesses and overgrowths, or 
simply to establish a balance between two sub-races or lesser fractions of 
sub-races. And these wars, while involving spiritual principles and 
spiritual laws at every instant, have been simply a part of the general 
Karma of humanity, just as the daily struggle of each one of us is a 
part of our personal Karma. Such wars as these involve no great moral 
turpitude on either side; nay, both sides may fight from principles 
entirely right; both, therefore, may reap a reward of spiritual merit; 
both may profit quite visibly, and in ways easily seen and expressed by 
the historian. Both may be, in a moral as well as in a material sense, 
real gainers from the conflict between them. 

One may find such an instance, perhaps, in the American war of 
independence, begun in the Spring and early Summer of 1775. It was 
a question, in a certain sense, of the establishment of a new sub-race. 
That was long ago made clear in our Theosophical literature. And the 
nucleus of the future sub-race had to prove itself ; to evoke and manifest 
qualities of responsibility, of endurance, of sacrifice, of heroism. The 
actual pretext of the war was slight; the grievances of the American 
colonies were trifling, as compared, let us say, with the present griev- 
ances of Belgium : it was a question of the stamps on certain legal papers, 
of taxes upon certain luxuries, things in no way essential to the colonies' 
well-being. But since, under cyclic law, the new sub-race had to be 
inaugurated, these pretexts, slight in reality, these trifling grievances, 
sufficed, and the conflict was begun. 

In these days of splendid reconciliation, one may say, quite openly, 
that both the circumstances and the motives of that war have been far 
more fairly treated in English histories than in the histories written by 
and for Americans. So true is this, that all fair-minded Americans now 
quite clearly see that their histories must be re-written, while there is no 
question of re-writing English histories, nor any need at all to revise 
them. The principle for which the King of England was contending 
was exactly that for which, under Lincoln, the Northern States so 
splendidly contended in the years between 1861 and 1865 : the principle 
of unity, the undivided life of a nation. But with unity must go equity ; 
with the oneness of a nation's undivided life must go perfect justice 
between the parts that make up that life. And the righteousness of 
King George's cause was impaired by a failure in equity, a denial of 
justice; therefore it was right that, in the conflict, King George should 
lose; and that the American colonies, standing on the firm ground of 
justice, should vindicate that justice, and should thereby establish the 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 115 

nucleus of the future sub-race on a lasting spiritual principle. In the 
conflict of 1861, while the South attacked the great principle of unity, 
there had been no injustice, no failure of equity, on the part of the 
whole nation towards the South; setting aside the great question of 
slavery, in order to make the issue more clear, the failure of equity 
was on the side of the South, which had voluntarily adhered to the 
principle of unity, in signing the Articles of Confederation, which estab- 
lished a perpetual union between the States. This was the bond which 
the South wilfully violated, and because of that violation of plighted 
faith, it was just, quite apart from the issue of slavery, that the South 
should be beaten in the American Civil War. 

There was, therefore, in both these wars, an adjustment of national 
Karma, quite comparable to the Karmic adjustments that daily and hourly 
take place in our personal lives ; adjustments which are the means, under 
the divine law, of our spiritual growth and development. But in neither 
war was there, on either side, a fundamental violation of vital spiritual 
principle. To put it starkly, neither side deliberately and of malice a- 
forethought, declared war against the laws of God. Neither side plotted 
to destroy the soul's development, to ruin the spiritual life of the human 
race. 

And that is exactly what Germany has done ; or, to speak more 
truly, that was the plan of the unseen Powers of Evil, the sinister beings 
to whom not the German Kaiser only, not the military caste of Ger- 
many only, but the entire German nation, prince and trader and peasant, 
have deliberately sold their souls. 

The motive of the Powers of Evil has been sufficiently set forth. 
These potent demons of corruption are when humanity realizes and 
develops the august powers of the soul, when mankind enters and breathes 
the purer air of spiritual life, doomed to irremediable death, after long 
ages of merited punishment, such as all wise religions have put upon 
the damned. Demons of corruption, they draw their subsistence, their 
very life- force from corruption; the perpetuity of corruption is their 
one hope of an evil immortality. They feed on evil, on the grosser 
lusts, on the cruelty and treachery and lying which debase humanity and 
keep humanity debased; thereby strengthening all the foul and evil 
principles in perverted human nature; principles which, as they are 
perversions of divine and spiritual forces, therefore supply the demons 
of corruption with just the sustenance they need. Therefore it is the 
interest of the unseen demons of corruption nay, it is the vital necessity 
of their existence to perpetuate corruption, and thereby to thwart and 
extinguish, to the utmost limit of their power, every spark of spiritual 
growth in mankind. For, to put it in a homely way, that spark may 
become a fire which will burn up the food supply of the demons. 



116 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

We have an illustration of exactly that law, ready to hand. Where 
have those eager servants of the devils, the German agents, the ministers 
of German propaganda, been able to find the sustenance needed for their 
evil work? Only there, in every nation, where there was corruption, 
where there was hidden treachery, where there was venal vanity, where 
there was something cowardly and base and purchasable, where they 
could pander to some detestable lust. Take Russia, the most conspicuous 
instance. Had the nobility of Russia been inspired by a genuine loyalty, 
had the princes and leaders of the Duma reverenced their plighted oath 
of fealty, had the officers of the army scorned to break the pledge that 
they had given the pledge of loyal and faithful service the agents of 
Germany would have used their detestable arts in vain; they would 
have been hanged by indignant Russians to the nearest tree. German 
propaganda in Russia would have died of starvation, would have per- 
ished for lack of food. But, to their dire misfortune, the upper classes 
in Russia, the nobility, the officers of the army, the political leaders, 
lacked the supreme quality of loyalty and honour. Therefore, they are 
being punished, and terribly punished, by the evil forces which their 
recreancy evoked. Let us hope that a remnant may be found among 
them who, through direst punishment and suffering, may win back that 
golden quality of loyalty and honour, and, winning it back, may lay a 
new foundation for their nation's life, a foundation set deep on the 
supreme principle of the Universe; for "loyalty surpasses all." 

Exactly, therefore, as German propaganda needs, for its sustenance, 
for its very life, rank elements of corruption, of greed and cowardice 
and lust, in the nation upon which it seeks to fasten itself; exactly as, 
finding these corrupt elements, it prospers and waxes gross, while lack- 
ing them, it quickly withers and dies ; so, in their larger way, but follow- 
ing identical principles, the demons of corruption, if they are to perpetu- 
ate their evil, unseen lives, must find elements of corruption in mankind, 
and must, so far as they are able, strengthen and perpetuate these. And 
these elements they find in human beings or beings nominally human 
who share the tastes of the demons of corruption; beings who exult in 
cruelty, who fatten on foul lusts, who are grossly and bestially material 
in every nerve and sinew of their lives; they find their sustenance in 
beings who are willing and eager to outrage human kind, to make 
war upon the soul, in order that their own desires may be gorged. And 
such food they find in the German nation, who consented willingly to 
every outrage against God and man, if thereby German lust and greed 
and vanity might be fed. 

It is a question, then, in this war, of increasing, in mankind, the 
food of the holy powers, through sacrifice and suffering, through valor 
and heroic death; for these things make the sustenance of the immortal 
soul. And it is a question, at the same time, of diminishing, and, so far 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 117 

as is possible, of annihilating, the food of the demons of evil, which 
ceaselessly make war upon our divinity, in order that these creatures 
of unseen evil may literally starve to death. Since the demons of evil 
find their best sustenance though by no means their only sustenance, in 
the profoundly corrupt German people from prince to peasant, from 
Kaiser to Hausknecht it is to the interest of our immortal souls that 
this sustenance of the evil powers, the unseen demons, should, so far as 
is possible, be reduced to absolute impotence. 

We have said that the demons of corruption find their chiefest food 
in the German people, but not their only food. They find that, wherever 
there is corruption. Therefore let us look well into our own souls, to see 
whether we are secretly hoarding there the sustenance of devils in the 
most literal possible sense. 

So we come to God's terms of peace. The peace of God will be 
consummated when the devils are starved to death by the elimination of 
every element of corruption from all human hearts. It is treason, there- 
fore, not merely to liberty or to some principle of government or of law, 
but to the Most High God Himself, to make any truce with evil; to 
dare blasphemously to say "peace" while God says "war." No nation, 
no leader in any nation, can invoke a more certain and terrible spiritual 
doom upon himself and upon his nation, than he who now, in treacherous 
cowardice, basely refuses to execute God's sentence of damnation upon 
the Hun. 



O Eternal Light, shine into our hearts, O eternal Goodness, deliver 
us from evil. O eternal Power, be thou our support. Eternal Wisdom, 
scatter the darkness of our ignorance. Eternal Pity, have mercy upon us. 
Grant unto us that with all our hearts, and minds, and strength, we may 
evermore seek thy face; and finally bring us, in thine infinite mercy, to 
thy holy presence. Alcuin, A. D. 780. 



FRAGMENTS 



TO the extent that thy mind, purified, illumined, and filled with 
understanding, can be nourished by the Master's knowledge and 
wisdom, to that extent canst thou obey his command to feed the 
hungry with that bread of life which is himself. 
To the extent that thou canst make of thy heart a pure chalice, whose 
blood has been poured out in the washing of thy feet, to that extent can 
the Master fill it with the blood of his own Heart, turning the water of 
thee into wine; to that extent canst thou obey his command to give 
drink to the thirsty, passing them the communion Cup of his love and 
sacrifice. 

To the extent that thou dost make of thy whole body a tabernacle 
of pure spirit, to that extent can the Master give thee of his own 
substance to be thy food, and of his own life to be thy drink, so that 
thou shalt never hunger any more, neither thirst any more, since the 
former things are passed away. 

Thus becoming a lamb without spot, even as he was a lamb without 
spot, thou canst be a victim worthy to be sacrificed; and, consumed in 
the flames of divine love, thou shalt be as a sweet smelling incense to 
draw all men to worship in his temple at the altar of his Heart. 



I, if I be lifted up 

O divine Host we adore thee. 
shall draw all men unto me. 

Yea, draw us forever by the cords of thy love. 
Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by ? 

Lo, Lord, it is everything: lo, it is life itself; lo, we pass not by.' 
Behold and see if there be any sorrow 

pitiful men, O tender women, O children, innocent children 

whom he blessed, give ear to his lament. 
like unto my sorrow. 

O sorrow of sorrows, ocean of sorrows. 
Come unto me 

O divine Heart of Christ we come. 
and ye shall find rest unto your souls. 

Nay, promise us more, Lord; rest unto thine. 

CAVE. 

sit 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 



" f W ^ HE battle of life." The phrase comes to us from the dawn of 

history, and every man that enters into life enters, consciously 

J^ or unconsciously, into war, to play his part with skill and 

courage or with ignorance and cowardice, master of himself or 

blindly driven by the forces about him, moving to victory or defeat. And 

so it is that the principles of war are the principles of life ; and that the 

volume before us a series of lectures given by General Foch at the 

French War College, to those who would become the leaders of French 

armies may be read as a manual of discipleship ; for discipleship is the 

conscious warfare of the trained soldier of life, who knows his 

commander and his enemy, and the forces he himself must command. 

Can war, can discipleship, be taught? Can it be learned by study, 
and if so, by what kind of study? These are the questions to which 
General Foch first addresses himself, as they are those which confront 
every religious superior and every aspirant to the spiritual life. 

"Can these words be used together: War (Discipleship) and College? 

"How can we conceive the study of such action, war, which takes 
place on battlefields, under unforeseen conditions, in the face of danger; 
which takes advantage of surprise and of strength, violence, brutality, in 
order to create panic, through this other form of action, study, which 

thrives on repose, on method, on thought, on reasoning? 

****** 

"What should be the nature of the teaching to prepare for action, 
without which everything is useless when the struggle comes? Should 
we use classes, books, which, once understood, allow us to proceed on 
a campaign with the conviction of solving difficulties as they appear and 
of being infallibly victorious? 

"Finally, to what faculties of your spirit should the appeal be made 
in order to develop and train them, to prepare the man of action, and 
what predisposition is necessary on your part ?" 

War is not a science. It is an art ; "a passionate drama." To view 
it as a science, to deal only with its material tools, the definite factors 
whose action, under constant conditions, can be predetermined with 
mathematical precision, is to leave out of account the crucial human and 
spiritual elements. Armament, supplies, terrain, has each a science of 
its own ; as has prayer and mortification and the foreseeing chart of the 
day. But over and above them is the factor of human morale, of the 
human spirit and will that are to use and apply them. And in life, 
conditions are never constant. 

"In war there are none but specific cases ; everything is individual, 
and there is no duplication. The elements of a war problem, to begin 
with, are only seldom certain, they are never definite. Everything is in 

* By General Ferdinand Foch, Commander of the Allied Armies, Translated by J. de 
Morinni, Late Major Canadian Expeditionary Force. New York, The H. K. Fly Co., $2.50 net. 



120 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

a constant state of change. These elements have therefore only a relative 
value instead of the absolute values used in a problem of mathematics. 
Where only one company of men has been sighted at a certain hour, a 
battalion is found when attacking shortly later." 

The fault that betrayed us yesterday appears today in different 
form, and the temptation whose strength we thought we had estimated 
and could meet, is found suddenly far stronger than we knew. We 
have practised prayer and self-denial, but our courage falters and we 
fail to use them when we need them most. The conditions in which 
we find ourselves are very rarely exactly those we had foreseen. And 
so we may fall into the opposite error, and come to believe that life 
can only be learned by living, that experience is the only teacher, and 
the only school of war is war. Here General Foch says : 

"I do not wish to discuss the kind of experience which comes from 
such training, the special advantage given to the mind by the habit of 
coming to decisions in the presence of a real adversary, and especially 
of resisting such emotion as naturally follows a blow. Unfortunately 
such a school is no school. It can be neither opened nor closed for our 
instruction ; and it is insufficient because it would give us no preparation 
for the opening stages of the next war. 

"As a matter of fact, there is no studying on the battle field. It is 
then simply a case of doing what is possible to make use of what one 
knows. And in order to make a little possible one must know much. 

"This explains the weakness, in 1866, of the Austrians who should 
have learnt from the war of 1859, when they met Prussians who had 
not fought since 1815. The former had waged war without learning 
anything thereby ; the latter had learnt the art of war without fighting." 

It is as the battle is reviewed in retrospect that we may learn from 
it. But because just its conditions can never recur again, no mere 
memorizing of its features can help us. We have to seek and grasp 
its guiding principles, the manner of their application and adaptation to 
the special circumstances, and the results that followed from them. War 
is not a science, but it is an art. And as an art, it has its unvarying 
principles, which may be discovered and taught through the study of 
military history, using the experience of others precisely as we should 
have to use our own in order to profit from it. "History must be the 
source of learning the art of war." 

"But the teaching of war's principles does not aim at creating mere 
platonic knowledge. To understand the principles without knowing how 
to apply them would be useless. But understanding brings assurance, 
wise decisions, the power of action. . 

"Thus appear both the method to be used and the goal to be reached : 
to pass from scientific conception on to the art of command, from a 
truth known and understood on to the practical application of such 
truth. ..." 

" 'Between these two things, scientific conception and the art of 
command, there is an enormous step which the method of teaching must 
enable a pupil to take if it is to be an efficient method' " (General de 
Peucker) . . . 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 121 

" 'But a result of this nature cannot be obtained if the instructor 
merely lectures and the pupil merely listens. It can be obtained, however, 
quite naturally when the teacher adds to his technical instruction some 
forms of practice, in the course of which the matters taught are applied 
to specific cases'. (Marshal von Moltke)" 

Here, then, is the outline of our school of discipleship, our War 
College for spiritual warfare. First the technical drill, the mastery of 
our tools, the practice of prayer, of meditation, of asceticism, the 
disciplining and strengthening of imagination, reason and will, through 
regular exercise in formal observances. This is demanded for admission 
as the soldier who would study strategy must first have learned the 
use of artillery, infantry and cavalry, and how they may be moved and 
maintained in the field. Second, and with this the instruction in the 
school itself would begin, the enunciation and elucidation, one by one, 
of the fundamental principles of the art of war, of the life of disciple- 
ship, the principles of concentration, of detachment, of recollection, etc. 
Or, as General Foch has listed them, the principles of economy of power, 
of freedom of action, of free disposal of power, of protection, etc. The 
meaning of these principles and their application to specific cases would 
be studied through historic examples, both of success and failure, so 
that much close and reflective reading of spiritual biography would be 
required, and the analysis of mystical and ascetical treatises. 

As General Foch analyzes the action of the Advance Guard at 
Nachod, showing how each of the dispositions taken and the movements 
made by the opposing generals, illustrated, either in the breach or the 
observance, the fundamental principles that should have governed them, 
and traces their consequences in contributing to victory or defeat, so, 
in a school of spiritual strategy, the life of St. Francis of Assisi or of 
St. Ignatius Loyola might be examined, and the student asked to deter- 
mine, for example, what slighted principle of spiritual warfare led to 
the great defection of St. Francis's followers. And because this might 
result in but "platonic knowledge", and give little assistance in taking 
"the enormous step between scientific conception and the art of 
command", the student might further be asked to outline the definite 
dispositions that he would himself have taken in St. Francis's place. 

It is at this last point that the school of the disciple possesses an 
advantage not shared by any school of material warfare; for whereas 
the latter must be taught in times of outer peace, the inner warfare is 
ever continuing, and its students are, however shielded, themselves 
engaged in it. And because the same principles govern the combat of 
small forces as of great, the student of the inner life has the material 
for the study of the art of war in every action of his day, in every duty 
set him, in every temptation over which he triumphs or into which he 
falls. Here he knows, at first hand, the conditions of the problem, as 
they cannot be reconstructed from the scanty records of history ; and so 
it is to his own experience that he can most profitably seek to apply the 
principles he draws from his study of the great examples of his art. 



122 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

He will find them illustrated in the instinctive strategy of the lower self, 
as well as in the conscious plans he makes to meet it. He will learn to 
see the skill and vigilance with which a self-indulgent habit employs "the 
principle of protection" and how "concentrated" and "detached" are the 
movements of his "ruling passion" that lead to his defeat. 

Through such study as this we may make our own the principles 
of war the invariable principles which must be adapted anew, in each 
new case, to the special conditions that confront us. It is useless to 
look for similarities; they either do not exist or are outweighed by the 
dissimilarities. It is useless to appeal to our memory, "it would desert 
us at the first cannon shot." We can rely only on "a trained power of 
judgment." 

And here General Foch asks and answers the question that has been 
at one time or another the despair of every neophyte: How am I to 
gain this trained power of judgment? What is to guide me in tfle 
adaptation of the invariable principles to the special circumstances that 
are never twice the same? And because General Foch's answer is of 
the greatest practical value to us all, we give it in full. 

"Invariable principles adapted to the special circumstances of every 
problem, does not that method take us back to the anarchy of ideas 
which it had been thought to replace by one general formula, a universal 
theory ? 

"As a matter of fact it does not take us back to such a condition 
because a similarity is bound to come in the adaptation of invariable 
principles to different cases, as a result of a similar method of considering 
the question : in a manner that is purely objective. 

"From a similar manner of considering questions will come a similar 
manner of understanding them, and from the similar manner of under- 
standing comes a similar manner of action. The latter soon becomes 
instinctive. 

"In war there is but one manner of considering every question, that 
is the objective manner. War is not an art of pleasure or sport, indulged 
in without other reason, as one might go in for painting, music, hunting 
or tennis, which can be taken up or stopped at will. In war everything 
is co-related. Every move has some reason, seeks some object; once that 
object is determined it decides the nature and importance of the means 
to be employed. The object in every case is the answer to the question 
which faced Verdy du Vernois as he reached the field of battle at Nachod. 

"Realizing the difficulties to be overcome, he seeks in vain through 
his memory for an example or a principle which will show him what to 
do. No inspiration comes. 'To the devil', says he, 'with history and 
principles ! after all, what is my objective?' And his mind is immediately 
made up. Such is the objective manner of handling a problem. A move 
is considered in relation to the objective in the widest sense of the word : 
What is the objective? 

"This similar manner of considering questions and of understanding 
them causes a similar manner of action. But what follows is an 
unrestricted application of every means to the objective sought. The 
habit once formed of thus studying and acting on many specific cases, 
it will be instinctively and almost unconsciously that the work is done. 
Verdy du Vernois is an instance. 'To the devil', says he, 'with history 
and principles', yet he makes use of his knowledge of history and 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 123 

principles ; without training along such lines, without the acquired habit 
of reasoning and deciding, he would have been unable to face a difficult 
situation." 

****** 

"It is necessary, finally, to employ unconsciously some truths. For 
that purpose they must be so familiar to us as to have entered into our 
bones, to be a component part of ourselves. 

"Those are happy who are born believers, but they are not numerous. 
Neither is a man born learned or born muscular. Each one of us must 
build up his faith, his beliefs, his knowledge, his muscles. Results will 
not spring from any sudden revelation of light as by a stroke of 
lightning. We can only obtain them through a continued effort at under- 
standing, at assimilation. Do not the simplest of arts make the same 
requirements ? Who would expect to learn in a few moments, or even a 
few lessons, to ride, etc.? 

"The work is here a constant appeal to thought : . after the 

correction of work bringing one's ideas closer to those of the teacher. 

"Then only do minds stretch in accordance with the study under- 
taken; principles are absorbed to the extent of becoming the basis of 
decisions made. You will be asked later to be the brains of an army ; I 
say unto you to-day : Learn to think. In the presence of every question 
considered independently and by itself, ask yourself first: What is the 
objective? That is the first step toward the state of mind to be attained ; 
that is the direction sought, purely objective. 'There is no genius who 
tells me suddenly and in secret what I must say or do in any circumstance 
unexpected by others; it is reflection, meditation' (Napoleon)". 

It is not a mere accident that the opening sentence of the Rule of 
St. Benedict, of the "First Principle and Foundation" of St. Ignatius, 
even of every well drawn constitution or charter of a society or 
corporation, should be a statement of its objective; for it is the objective 
which determines all that follows. The clear formulation and constant 
recollection of it must be the first rule of all the disciple's thinking. 

i 

In the same way that we have read this opening chapter on the 
Teaching of War, finding in it a definite outline for the practical 
instruction of disciples, we may read the chapters which follow. 
Though close study is demanded, the translation is never difficult, even 
in the most technical sections. Often no translation at all is needed, 
for General Foch teaches in terms so universal as to be immediately 
applicable to every form of human effort. We may take his text as a 
practical guide in our" individual struggle against our faults and weak- 
nesses, the separate faculties and powers of our nature constituting 
the troops at our command, which we must manoeuver for attack and 
defense, service of protection, and the crucial impulse of concentrated 
mass. Here we place ourselves in the position of the Commander in 
Chief, whose function it is to plan the whole campaign and direct its 
moves. But as the aspirant becomes the disciple, recognizing his 
commander and his enemy, he recognizes also his comrades and finds 
himself one of a group, a unit in an organized force. It is by this 
force as a whole, and not by himself as a separate individual, that the 



124 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

war is waged, and victory or defeat experienced. The disciple, therefore, 
like the commander of a company, regiment or division, must determine 
all his actions with an ultimate view to the success of the greater whole 
of which his own command is but a part. 

We may illustrate both the intimately individual and broader fields 
for the application of General Foch's teaching, through the opening 
paragraphs of his second chapter, "Characteristics of Modern Warfare." 

"We endeavor to study and teach War. Before beginning such 

study we must determine what war we speak of. 

****** 

"It is evident that if, instead of speaking in Paris, I spoke at 
Brussels on the subject of strategy and tactics, my teaching would bear 
particularly on one form of war. The condition of Belgium is familiar 
to you: a neutrality guaranteed by Europe, which perhaps is a useless 
scrap of paper, but until now it has assured the existence of that little 
state ; the close proximity of two great powers, Germany and France, 
from whom no great obstacle divides her, either of whom could easily 
conquer her if the other neighbor or friendly powers do not interfere. 
For the Belgian army a special theory of war would be necessary, with 
one very definite aim: to delay as much as possible the progress of the 
invading neighbor. The work would consist in seeking how the Belgian 
army can fill that role: to avoid any decisive engagement, to delay the 
decision of battle. 

"All the military plans of the nation would have to rest on the same 
idea: the organization, mobilization, armament, fortifications, and also- 
the training of the troops down to the instruction of the smallest units." 

Let us imagine a group of disciples. In the outer world each 
would have his own place and duties and between them there might 
seem to be little connection, yet inwardly they would all be parts of one 
whole. For the matters that concerned his own department each would 
be independently responsible; but his success or failure would vitally 
affect the whole group, of which he is but the representative in that 
special place and work. Let us assume him confronted with difficulties 
that he knows to be too great for him, but which press for decision. 
What should be his objective? To delay the decision, without compro- 
mising it ; to gain time to bring his fellows to his assistance, so that the 
difficulty that is too great for one may be met and conquered by the 
united power of the whole. 

Or let us look at the situation of a man who has not yet become a 
disciple, who is his own commander as the separate units of a newly 
recruited force mobilize separately for their preliminary training, and 
are brought together as an army only when this is at least partially 
accomplished. Let us consider the sort of delaying action a man may 
at times have to fight against his besetting temptations. 

Every one who has seriously undertaken to conquer some evil in 
his nature, knows that sooner or later a parting of the ways must be 
reached and a decision made that will be irrevocable that will fasten 
his evil upon him, or put it beyond his power to descend to its indulgence. 
This is the decision of battle that warfare seeks. To bring about this 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 125 

decision, but to bring it about under the most favorable conditions, so 
that he may meet and destroy the full force of the evil by the full and 
concentrated power of all that is good in him, must be the aim of all his 
strategy. There comes a day when he is at his worst, unconcentrated, 
unrecollected, exhausted physically, his nerves on edge; and all the real 
motives of his life, his aspiration, and recognition of spiritual law and 
will to obey it, all seem far away. Then comes temptation; the evil in 
him offers battle, calls out for him to make the irrevocable decision, to 
say or do the thing that will commit him. Should he accept the battle? 
What sort of war should be his in those conditions? 

Let us make the situation quite definite by making it very trivial. 
There is someone for whom we have regard, but who has spoken to 
us in a way that we find difficult to accept. It has hurt our pride, and 
we believe its manner was unjustified, however salutary the truth within 
it might be. We have been contending with the question as to whether 
we are willing to accept such treatment, to learn home truths at the 
expense of what we regard as our dignity to continue our present 
relationships or to speak out plainly and change them. Then in the 
midst of one of our weakest and most despicable moods, we are again 
subjected to the same mortifying treatment. Everything that is small 
and self-seeking in us cries out to resent it, then and there to end it. 
We strive to summon the good in us the knowledge of our need for 
truth, for perception, for the conquest of the petty vanity that is here 
being hurt. But all of this is very far away. A definite and decisive 
victory in our present state is, to our shame, beyond our power. Life 
appears quite intolerable if it were to mean a continuance of this sort 
of thing forever. We refuse to contemplate it knowing that we are 
seeing falsely and instead of seeking a decision that will commit us 
for the future, we seek to delay it. We fasten all our energies upon 
the present, upon seeing the one special humiliating truth before us and 
upon getting through that one interview without an explosion ; on holding 
back the assault of our vanity, temper, resentment, self-pity, or what- 
soever the feelings may be that assail us, until we can get safely out of 
the room and gain time in which to recollect and concentrate ourselves 
in which to bring to the battle the real forces that must win it. 

General Foch makes quite clear that though weakness may neces- 
sitate this type of war, temporarily and in certain conditions, yet in itself 
it can never possibly bring victory. A delaying action can only be for 
the purpose of gaining time for the assembly of the forces that will seek 
and give decisive battle. The special type of war for which Belgium, 
for example, must prepare, can only have meaning or value as leading 
to war of quite a different type in which Belgium herself must engage 
when reinforced. To resist temptation, to delay and avoid the decisive 
conflict, not to be crushed by a hopeless defeat, that may be all at which 
the man of the world aims, or the aspirant for discipleship is at times 
able to accomplish. But the ultimate aim of the disciple must be 
victory, and "There is no victory ivithout battle." 



126 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Just as there have been many false theories of war, so there are 
many false theories of discipleship. There are those who think they 
will attain discipleship through the seeking of favorable outer conditions, 
through residence in New York or Thibet, through abandoning their own 
duties in order to engage in philanthropic work, through isolating them- 
selves from the temptations of the world, through substituting manoeu- 
vers of one kind or another for the primary aim of battle against the 
evil of self. General Foch has little patience with such fallacies, "the 
fencing methods" of the materialistic strategists of peace times. 

"All those principles and methods are founded on material things 
in times of peace, on the material element which keeps all its importance 
in peace training as opposed to the moral element which cannot then be 
shown or considered. 

"For instance: the battle of Alma, a duplication of which in peace 
manoeuvers would be a victory for the Russians, a defeat for the French, 
the nature of the ground makes it inevitable. And the peace tactician 
concludes that scarpments, similar to those of the Alma, being 
insurmountable they need not be protected. 

"The scores made in target practice, the effects of artillery fire on 
the ranges, are found to make any attack impossible. Therefore one 
must avoid attacks, one must wait to be attacked, go back to the war of 
positions and of clever manoeuvering, turn the enemy's flank in order to 
starve him, etc. Every time an improvement is made in armament the 
defensive is found to be compulsory. 

"Similar questions, on the other hand, when studied from history call 
for an opposite answer. 

"The battle of the Alma is an undeniable victory for the French. 
Therefore all ground is passable for the enemy unless it is defended by 
watchful and active troops. 

"All improvements in firearms add to the strength of an offensive 
intelligently planned, because the attackers, choosing their ground, can 
concentrate on it so much a greater volume of fire. Moreover there is 
the question of morale, the spiritual superiority of the attacker over the 
defender, of the crusher over the crushed. The attack will need more 
preparation before moving its men, yet it retains the advantage even as 
regards the volume of fire." 

The disciple can never regard material conditions as determinative, 
but must look always to the spirit. There are no difficulties of environ- 
ment that cannot be surmounted, no position that is impregnable in itself, 
no defenses behind which vigilance is not needed in order to be safe. 
And these axioms for his own warfare guide him also in his efforts for 
others. The modern moral-theorist of peace times, the materialistic 
philanthropist and social reformer, would prove to him that religion and 
nobility are impossible in such surroundings as the slums of a great city. 
Yet the question, "when studied from history, calls for an opposite 
answer", as witness the lives of innumerable saints of the past and the 
heroic records of city regiments in the present great conflict. 

The salient characteristic of the French genius, "the eldest daughter 
of the Church", has always been its clear-sighted recognition of material 
facts for exactly what they were, but its refusal to be dominated by 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 127 

those facts ; in its instant response to any appeal to the spirit. But when 
this appeal is not made, when its leaders betray it, then follows such 
tragedy as that of the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. It is a lesson for 
all those who would hold to the economic interpretation of history, and 
so place their faith in external reform and dependence upon material 
conditions. It is a lesson which no disciple can ever forget, and which 
General Foch drives home by the humiliating truth of a quoted German 
criticism. 

"There is often an inclination, even when studying history, to 
attribute to purely material causes the main result of any war. 

" The French people', says Von der Goltz, 'has always concentrated 
on material questions. They carefully observed the events of the war of 
1866 and sought the secret of the Prussians' victory only in the superiority 
of their armament. By realizing in this manner only the visible side of 
Prussian military strength they realized, also, only the visible obstacles 
which it encountered. It was an axiom of the French army to use to 
its fullest extent the power of armament, and to remain strictly on the 
defensive. They thought that the offensive power of the German army 
would be broken by the defensive action of new and terrible weapons. 
Our opponents did along the development of this theory much more 
than had ever been done by any army previously, and yet victory did not 
reward them. 

" 'They ruined in that way the spirit of their army, and the visible 
results could not fill the place of the moral strength sacrificed, of the 
confidence shaken. Whatever is done in an army should always aim at 
increasing and strengthening the moral strength'. * * * 

"Such is the brief history of our sad experience of 1870." 

So General Foch disposes of the false theories of war, the theories 
from which the primary idea of battle has largely disappeared. 

"And it has so disappeared because it is thought unnecessary, 
because one hopes, like the immortal Berwick, to gain a victory without 
battle that when troops are led to the fight success is expected from 
the mere disposal of these troops with regard to one another, from a 
perfect alignment, from some new formation or other. Battles are 
planned like reviews; there is no thought of the enemy or of the blows 
to be struck against him, or of the hammer with which to strike. 

"These mistaken ideas will crop up often without your realizing it 
in your decisions; they will bring down on you our criticism when you 
undertake operations on the flanks or rear of the enemy whose only 
pretended value lies in the direction they take, when you begin threats 
which are not followed by attacks, when you draw up graphics and 
charts as though they had any intrinsic value. 

"All that kind of thing has no more strength than a house of cards. 

"A worthy opponent is not put to flight by any cleverly chosen 
direction. He is not nailed down without a real attack any more than 
a paper roof could prevent rain and cold from entering the house. 

"War as we study it, positive in its nature, permits only of positive 
answers : there is no result without cause ; if you seek the result, develop 
the cause, employ force. 

"If you wish your opponent to withdraw, beat him; otherwise 
nothing is accomplished, and there is only one means to that end: the 
battle." 



128 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

As modern war is not a matter of limited standing armies, but of 
all the resources of the nation, so the disciple's war cannot be waged 
with his head alone, or his heart alone, or in spare hours of leisure. It 
must enlist the entire nature and continues through every minute of the 
day. 

"The present day army is therefore bigger and better trained, but 
it is also more nervous and more easily affected. The human side of the 
problem, which already had greater importance than the material factor 
. must now be more important still. . . . " 

"Nowhere can better models be found than in the actions of 
Napoleon, who made use of that wonderful military power" (numbers, 
enthusiasm, passions) "in order to triumph by: 

"Taking advantage of human emotions : 

"Manoeuvering masses . . . ; 

"Giving to operations the most crushing nature ever known." 

And who said: 

"I desire nothing so much as a big battle." 

"To seek enemy armies, nucleus of the opposing strength, in order 
to beat and destroy them, to follow for that purpose the direction and 
tactics which will lead there in quickest and surest manner, such is the 
lesson of modern war. 

"Let us therefore no longer speak of manoeuvers merely intended to 
reach the opponent's lines of communication, to seize his stores, to enter 
this or that portion of his territory. None of these results is an advantage 
in itself; it only becomes one if it facilitates battle under favorable 
circumstances, if it permits the most favorable employment of forces. 

"Only tactical results bring advantages in war. A decision by arms, 
that is the only judgment that counts, because it is the only one that 
makes a victor or a vanquished ; it alone can alter the respective situation 
of the opponents, the one becoming master of his actions while the other 
continues subject to the will of his adversary. For instance, take Valmy : 
Dumouriez is at St. Menehould. His flank is turned, his direct communi- 
cations with Paris are cut. He adopts indirect communications, and as 
there has been no decision by arms, no tactical result, he holds his ground. 
When the enemy attacks, he defends himself, and if he is not beaten it is 
the enemy who is beaten because he has failed at the court of battle." 

How often have we not outmanoeuvered some fault, turned the 
position where it was entrenched, only to find that, because we had not 
focused our efforts on the destruction of the evil itself, but had sought 
solely to correct the outer form in which it showed, it turns itself about 
and faces us in some other form as threateningly as before. The 
disciple cannot indulge such mistaken strategy. He must return to 

"Leadership characterized by : preparation, mass, impulsion. . . . 

"Preparation: that is, in your mind a plan of action founded on deep 
study of the objective or on the mission assigned, as well as on a 
thorough, careful examination of the ground, the plan being subject, 
moreover, to changes; troops disposed so as to prepare and begin the 
plan's execution, to picture it in a way ; advance guards and flank guards 
in particular. 

"Mass: that is, a main body as strong as possible, assembled, 
concentrated and ready to carry out the execution of the plan. 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 129 

''Impulsion: by which to multiply the mass, that is to throw on one 
objective that mass, more or less dispersed at first, reassembled later with 
all the means at its disposal suitably employed. * * *" 

"Of all mistakes, one only is disgraceful : inaction." 

We cannot quote the whole of General Foch's lectures, though each 
page tempts us anew. We can aim only at showing how they may be 
read, and so must pass hurriedly over the chapters on "The Economy 
of Forces", "Protection", "The Advance Guard." They deal in detail 
with the fundamental difficulty which every aspirant to self-conquest 
encounters: how to narrow the point of attack, and concentrate there 
all his forces that victory may be assured, and at the same time guard 
himself against the possible assaults of his enemy in every direction and all 
along his line. The one need requires concentration, the other dispersion. 
Troops must be detached, time and attention and effort given, to 
"discover the enemy; ascertain his strength; immobilize him; cover and 
protect the concentration of one's own forces; maintain the dispersion 
of the enemy; and prevent his concentration." The disciple's art 
consists in the ability to make all these separate acts, each necessary to 
the success of his manoeuver, with a minimum of dispersion, and in 
such a manner that the greater part of the force employed in them may 
still be available for the concentrated shock of battle at the crucial point. 
"Economy of force" does not mean parsimony, and the neglect of 
necessary precautions; it means "knowing how and where to spend." 
And in these technical chapters we may find illuminating instruction in 
the detailed application of such principles to the ultimate concentration 
upon our objective. They require translation. But the teaching is there. 

"Action in one direction, that one which is necessitated by the 
strategic plan, through tactics, that is by the most favorable use of 
military resources. 

"In each of these directions successively adopted, victory expected 
from all the forces, or at least nearly all; in other directions, safety 
assured by troops as weak as possible, intended not to defeat the enemy, 
but to slow him up, to paralyze him, to reconnoiter him. . 

"Constantly, in strategy as in tactics, one seeks a decision by 
mechanics, by the use against part of the enemy's forces of a main body 
made as strong as possible by putting in it all the forces which can 
possibly be spared from elsewhere. That part being destroyed, one aims 
quickly at another, against which one uses again the main body, in order 
to be always the stronger at the chosen place and chosen time." 

From the Chapter on "Intellectual Discipline", with its sub-title of 
"Freedom of Action in Obeying" we cannot resist quoting at some length. 
General Foch himself begins with a quotation from Napoleon. 

" 'I was little satisfied . . . you received the order to proceed to Cairo 
and did not comply with it. No event that may occur should prevent a 
soldier from obeying, and talent in war consists in surmounting the 
difficulties liable to make an operation difficult.' (Napoleon) 

"We have seen that the basis of modern war is the use of masses, 
aiming at a common purpose, or in other words the opposite of inde- 
pendence which would inevitably result in dispersion. 



130 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

"It is evident, therefore that each one of the units forming the total 
force is not at liberty to go where it pleases, nor to arrive when it pleases ; 
it cannot be guided by the personal opinions of its chief, however sound 
such opinions may seem; it cannot act on its own account and seek the 
enemy or engage him where and when it pleases, even if success should 
be attained thereby. 

"Discipline constitutes the main strength of armies. Armed forces 
are primarily intended and commanded for the purpose of obedience. 

"The general commanding in chief can indulge in art, in strategy, 
all others only carry out tactics, prose. He conducts the orchestra, and 
they each play their part. 

"Whether it be a question, therefore, of advance guards or front 
line-units, of armies, army corps, divisions, brigades or smaller units, 
every one is a subordinate unit. 

"Every chief of every unit must therefore think of obeying at the 
same time as he thinks of commanding. Before dictating his orders, he 
must be inspired by those he has received. To what extent and how? 
That is what we shall examine. 

"In war to obey is a difficult thing. For the obedience must be in 
the presence of the enemy, and in spite of the enemy, in the midst of 
danger, of varied and unforeseen circumstances, of a menacing unknown, 
in spite of fatigue from many causes. 

" 'While dispositions taken in peace times can be weighed at length, 
and infallibly lead to the result desired, such is not the case with the use 
of forces in war, with operations. In war, once hostilities are begun, our 
will soon encounters the independent will of the enemy. Our dispositions 
strike against the freely-made dispositions of the enemy.' (Moltke) 

"Then how shall we carry out the execution of an order received, 
unless we preserve our freedom of action in spite of the enemy? The 
art of war is the art of preserving one's freedom of action." 

To be free to obey! That is what it is to become a disciple. To 
that end we seek the mastery of self and all its passions. Without 
freedom, there can be no obedience. 

"On the eve of Montenotte, we see Laharpe ordered to succor the 
half brigade of Rampon ; Augerau, . . . ordered to fall in behind 
Laharpe as reserve ; Massena, . . . etc., 

"So many units, so many different tasks ; so many separate missions 
all aimed at a same result: concentration, but always in the presence of 
the enemy and through different means which will rely on the ability of 
the leaders. 

"Often the result will be harder to see and to attain. As numbers 
increase, and simultaneously time and space, the road to follow is longer 
and harder. At the same time, command, in the narrow sense of the 
word, loses from its precision. It can still determine the result to be 
attained, but can no longer specify the ways and means of attaining it. 
How then can we assure the arrival of these numerous dispersed bodies, 
except by keeping before them a clear realization of the sole result to 
be attained, leaving to their initiative the liberty of action to that end? 
We shall need 

"Intellectual discipline, primary condition, showing to all subordi- 
nates, and imposing on them, the result aimed at by the superior. 

"A discipline intelligent and active, or rather an initiative, second 
condition for keeping the right to act in the desired direction. 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 131 

"Such must be the embodiment of the military spirit, which appeals 
to character of course, but also to the spirit, implying thereby an action 
of the mind, of reflection, and denying the absence of thought, the silent 
compliance necessary perhaps for the rank and file who need only execute 
(and yet it is certainly better that they should execute understandingly), 
but insufficient always for the subordinate leader. He must, with the 
means at his disposal, interpret the thought of his superior, and therefore 
understand it first, then make of his means the most suitable use under 
circumstances of which he is the sole judge. 

"A leader must not only be a man of character, but also a man 
capable of understanding and planning for the purpose of obeying. 

"To the strict, passive obedience of former centuries we shall 
therefore oppose active obedience, necessary consequence of the appeal 
made always to initiative, and of the tactical use of small independent 
masses. 

"And that notion of freedom of action which we find appearing as 
a protection of our spirit of active discipline, which comes from the 
necessity of assuring the action of the whole through the combined 
actions of all participants, we find it also becoming, like the principle 
of economy of forces, one of the fundamental rules of war. 

"For in every military operation we have seen that our constant 
preoccupation is to preserve that freedom : freedom to go to Montenotte, 
to remain there, to act against Ceva. And, at the end of war, when 
there are a victor and a vanquished, how will their positions differ except 
that the one will be free to act and to exact what he wishes from the 
other, while the latter will be compelled to do and to concede what the 
victor may decide? 

"We must be constantly inspired by this idea of freedom to be 
preserved, if we wish at the end of an operation, and still more therefore 
at the end of a series of operations, to find ourselves free, that is victors, 
and not dominated, that is vanquished. 

****** 

"To be disciplined does not mean that one commits no offense 
against discipline; such a definition might suffice for the rank and file, 
but it is quite insufficient for a leader of whatever rank. 

"To be disciplined does not mean either that one executes orders 
received only in such measure as seems proper or possible, but it means 
that one enters freely into the thought and aims of the chief who has 
ordered, and that one takes every possible means to satisfy him. 

"To be disciplined does not mean to keep silent, to do only what 
one thinks can be done without risk of being compromised, the art of 
avoiding responsibilities, but it means acting in the spirit of the orders 
received, and to that end assuring by thought and planning the 
possibility of carrying out such orders, assuring by strength of character 
the energy to assume the risks necessary in their execution. The laziness 
of the mind results in lack of discipline as much as does insubordination. 
Lack of ability and ignorance are not either excuses, for knowledge is 
within reach of all who seek it." 

****** 

"Activity of mind, to understand the purposes of the Higher 
Command and to observe the spirit of these purposes; 

"Activity of mind, to discover the material means of fulfilling them ; 

"Activity of mind, to fulfill them in spite of the enemy's efforts to 
preserve his freedom of action; . 

"In brief, * * * discipline." 



132 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

We wish that this chapter might be in the hands of every aspirant 
for discipleship more, of every man, woman and child of our nation 
the subject of every morning's meditation, the basis for every evening's 
self-examination, till they have made it their own. 

Finally we come to the chapter on "The Battle: Decisive Attack", 
that to which all else leads, the object of all. 

"Far from being a total of distinct and partial results, it is the one 
result of many efforts, some of them successful, others apparently 
failures, aiming all at one goal: the decision which alone gives victory. 
Either there must be a successful ending or the whole effort has been 
wasted. 'In war, as long as there remains something to be done, nothing 
is accomplished', said Frederick. Every move in the battle must there- 
fore work to that end. And inasmuch as there is direction, combination 
and results, it proves that logic rules the actions, with all its privileges 
and pitiless severity. There is a theory of the battle. 

****** 

"Modern war, in order to reach its purpose: to impose one's will 
on the enemy, knows of but one means : the destruction of the opponent's 
organized forces. 

"That destruction is undertaken and prepared by battle, defeating 
the enemy, disorganizing his command, his discipline, tactical unity, his 
troops as forces. 

"It is realized by pursuit, in which the victor, profiting by the moral 
superiority which victory gives him over the vanquished, cuts up finally 
troops that have become demoralized, dispersed, impossible to command, 
troops which are no longer troops. 

"Battle cannot be merely defensive. 

"Under that form it may, it is true, halt the enemy in his advance ; 
it keeps him from attaining some immediate objective; but such results 
are purely negative. Never will it destroy the enemy or procure the 
conquest of the ground he occupies, which is the visible sign of victory ; 
it is unable, therefore, ever to create victory. 

"A battle of this kind, purely defensive, does not, even if well 
conducted, make a victor and a vanquished. It is merely something to 
be decided again later. 

"A purely defensive battle is like a duel in which one of the men 
does nothing but parry. He can never defeat his opponent, but on the 
contrary, and in spite of the greatest possible skill, he is bound to be hit 
sooner or later. 

"Hence we find that the offensive form, whether it be immediate or 
as succeeding the defensive, can alone give results. It must consequently 
always be adopted at some stage or other. 

"Every defensive action, then, must end by an offensive blow or 
successful counter-attack if any result is to be gained. It is an elementary 
principle, if you wish, but neglect of it has been frequent. It was not 
understood by the French armies of 1870, or they would not have 
pictured as victories days * * * which might have become victories 
but which certainly were not victories at the stage where they were left. 
The French had merely held their positions, which is not synonymous 
with victory, and even implies future defeat if no offensive action be 
undertaken. 

" 'To make war was always to attack'. (Frederick) 

"We must always seek to create events, not merely to suffer them, 
we must first of all organize the attack, considering everything else of 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 133 

secondary importance and to be planned only in respect to the advantages 
which may result from it for the attack." 

Here lies the secret of endless discouragement and failure. How 
many good and well intentioned men and women have despairingly asked 
themselves why it was that after years of effort they still yielded to the 
old temptation, were still surprised at their weak point and failed. And 
the answer is that they have stood always on the defensive ; that their 
concept of the battle of life lay in beating off the attacks of the enemy, 
in resisting temptation, forever parrying, never thrusting. And so what 
"might have become victories" never were such. No offensive followed 
the defensive; no pursuit of the demoralized foe. 

It was not in this way that the saints entered their spiritual combats. 
Recognizing a fault they pursued it unremittingly and relentlessly. They 
did not repress their pride; they eradicated it. They did not submit to 
humiliations ; they sought them. And so, too, the aspirant for discipleship 
must learn to "create events, not merely to suffer them." 

How is a battle to be won? "Will it consist in the number of 
enemies killed? Is it a question of doing more harm by having more 
guns and more rifles, or better guns and better rifles, than the enemy? 
Is superiority found merely in material advantages, or does it come from 
other causes? We must seek the answer in an analysis of the 
psychological phenomenon of battle. 

" 'A hundred thousand men/ says General Cardot, 'leave ten thou- 
sand of their number on the ground and acknowledge defeat : they retreat 
before the victors who have lost just as many men, if not more. Besides, 
neither knows, when the retreat occurs, what their losses are or what the 
enemy's casualties may be'. It is not, therefore, through the material 
factor of losses, and still less through any comparison of figures, a 
greater number of casualties, that they give in, renouncing the fight and 
abandoning to the opponent the ground in dispute. 

"Ninety thousand defeated men withdraw before ninety thousand 
victorious men solely because they have had enough, and they have had 
enough because they no longer believe in victory, because they are 
demoralized and have no moral resistance left. Which leads Joseph de 
Maistre to say : 'A battle lost is a battle one believes one has lost, for a 
battle is never lost materially.' And if battles are lost morally, they 
must also be won in the same way, so that we can add: 'A battle won 
is a battle in which one refuses to acknowledge defeat.' " 

We hear in this an echo of a mighty warrior of the Heavenly Host, 
of whom it has been said: "You cannot beat him, for you cannot 
discourage him." 

"The will to conquer: such is the first condition of victory, conse- 
quently the first duty of every soldier; and it is also the supreme 
resolution with which the commander must fill the soul of his 
subordinates. 

"That necessitates, for an army that desires to conquer, the highest 
sort of command, and it necessitates in the man who undertakes to battle 
one important quality : the ability to command. 

" 'It is not the Roman legions that conquered the Gauls, but Caesar. 
Not the soldiers of Carthage caused Rome to tremble, but Hannibal. It 



134 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

was not the Macedonian troops that penetrated as far as India, but 
Alexander. * * *' 

"Napoleon wrote these words, but he could have written more, and 
with still better cause, if he had included that wonderful period of history 
which he has completely filled with his own personality. 

"Great results in war are due to the commander, and it is but justice 
that history should couple with the names of famous generals victories 
that glorify them or defeats which dishonor their memory." 

"The will to conquer." Without the indomitable resolution that 
admits neither discouragement nor failure, it is useless to seek the path 
of discipleship. Let us grant, then, that it is ours, inherent in the essence 
of the soul that calls us to this war and leads us to the battle. But what 
means do we take to inspire it in all our faculties, our troops? Do we 
realize that we are failing in the primary quality of command when our 
minds suffer a sense of failure, of depression ? When we doubt ourselves, 
or our fellows, or the value of our efforts? We see the truth clearly 
when we look to physical warfare; but in spiritual combat too many 
beginners invite, under the mask of a false humility, the very loss of 
morale that alone constitutes defeat. Does it seem to us that we are a 
handful against the whole evil of the world? It will not, if we remember 
the Master who leads us ; but, if it does, let us remember also that saying 
of Napoleon's: "It is not the Roman legions that conquered the Gauls, 
but Caesar." Even in the face of such examples, we have as yet no 
conception of the power that may be wielded, the changes over the whole 
face of the world and throughout its inner thought that may be wrought, 
.by a disciplined will that never accepts defeat. Only as we grow into 
that conception can we understand the full meaning of discipleship 
the strength that it offers, and the strength that it must employ. 

" 'One little realizes the strength of mind necessary to deliver, fully 
grasping its consequences, one of those battles from which depend the 
history of an army, and of a country, the possession of a throne,' says 
Napoleon. And: 'by a strong mind we must not mean one that only 
knows strong emotions, but one which even the strongest emotions 

cannot sway.' 

****** 

"The great events of history, the disasters which appear on some of 
its pages, such as the collapse of French power in 1870, are never 
accidents. They can be traced to higher and general causes which are 
omissions of the most ordinary moral and intellectual truths. It is 
therefore necessary, if we wish clearly to understand war, that we 
recognize first its main principles. 

"How can an army, efficiently commanded, destroy the morale of 
the enemy ? Into what actions is war, display of moral force, translated ? 

"To answer that question, we need only see how a mental impression 
is created. 

" 'Everything,' says Xenophon, 'pleasant or terrible, causes us the 
more pleasure or fear in proportion as we have least expected it. This 
is nowhere more evident than in war, where every surprise brings terror 
even to those who are most powerful.' * * * 

"The way to destroy the enemy's morale, to show him that his cause 
is lost, is therefore surprise in every sense of the word, bringing into 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 135 

the struggle something 'unexpected and terrible', which therefore has a 
great effect. It deprives the enemy of the power to reflect, and 
consequently to discuss. 

"It may be some new engine of war, possessed of novel powers of 
destruction, but that cannot be created at will ; ambushes and attacks in 
the rear are suitable to small-scale warfare, but impracticable in big 
operations where we must resort to the sudden appearance of a danger 
which the enemy has no time to avoid, or which he can only partly avoid. 
It may be the apparition of a destructive force greater than his own, 
necessitating a concentration of forces, and of overwhelming forces, at 
a point where the enemy is in no position to parry instantaneously by a 
similar deployment of forces within an equal time. 

To surprise, is to crush at close range by numbers and within a 
limited time; otherwise the enemy surprised by greater numbers is 
enabled to meet the attack, to bring up his reserves, and the assaulting 
forces lose the advantage of surprise. 

"They lose it also if the surprise begins from afar, for the enemy 
can, thanks to the range of weapons and to their delaying powers, regain 
time to bring up his reserves. 

"Such are the conditions of numbers, of time and of space which 
must be observed in order to obtain those characteristics of surprise 
which are necessary for the destruction of the enemy's morale. 

"Hence appears the superiority of manoeuvering armies, alone 
capable of speed for: 

"Preparing an attack ; 

"Beginning it at close range ; 

"Carrying it through rapidly. 

****** 

"To destroy the enemy's morale is therefore the first principle we 
find ; to destroy it through an unexpected blow of overwhelming force, 
such is the first consequence of that principle. 

"But that overwhelming and unexpected blow need not be struck at 
the whole enemy army. To defeat an opponent it is unnecessary to 
'simultaneously cut off his arms, his legs and his head, while piercing 
his chest and stabbing him in the stomach.' (General Cardot.) In the 
same way, to overcome an army's flank, its center, any important part of 
the whole, will be sufficient for the result sought." 

Provided always, it should be added, that the defeat inflicted be 
followed by pursuit. 

What does this theory of battle mean for the man contending 
against the evil in himself? It means, first, new hope, rekindling the 
resolution that will not admit defeat, for all that is necessary to win is 
"to be the stronger at a given point and a given moment." He is to 
choose the point. This requires "Service of Information", the knowledge 
of his enemy from daily contact and daily self-examination. He chooses. 
The choice is important, but for our present purpose of experiment in 
the true theory of warfare, it is not vital; for if he chooses badly now, 
next time he will choose more wisely. He selects one definite point of 
evil, one concrete expression of it. Against this he must now prepare his 
attack. To that one point he must direct and concentrate all the energies 
over which he has command all that have retained "Freedom of Action". 
He makes it the aim of his morning meditation, of his prayers, of his 



136 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

stated periods of recollection. Above all, he concentrates upon it his full 
attention, his eager interest, born of the new hope and novelty of the 
effort to attack and destroy utterly what he has heretofore only sought 
to resist, every ounce of his will and of his confidence that he has found 
the way. 

Here already is a formidable force, the full power of his nature 
concentrated against a single fault that in the past has had to face only 
a small share of his widely spread "general good-intentions." The lower 
nature has not anticipated any such new tactics. It is by no means certain 
that that specific fault is sufficiently dear to it to risk the cost of a general 
engagement. It is surprised, and already its morale is shaken. It is 
prepared to surrender if the man is really in earnest if the threat is 
otherwise certain to be followed by the blow. And this is wholly a 
question of the man's own resolution. But what kind of a blow? 
Punishment of the lower-self; discipline, self-inflicted, penance. And 
this must be planned and resolved upon. It is part of the preparation 
of the attack. 

"Beginning at close range." That is the next principle, and it leads 
back to the choice of the point of attack. It must be an evil that can 
be reached at once, concretely; not something distant or vague, but 
immediate, with which we are already in contact. 

And finally, we are to "carry it through rapidly." We must begin 
at once; from the moment our resolution is made its execution must 
commence. Otherwise the concentration we effect cannot be maintained ; 
and the enemy has time in which to probe our every weakness, to 
recover from its surprise and initial fear, to question whether the blows, 
the penance, the punishment, will be persisted in if those first given 
are withstood. To delay, is to lose the advantage of surprise ; to weaken 
our own morale through the infiltration of doubt and hesitancy and the 
self-distrust born of past defeats; and to strengthen the morale of our 
opponent. This is fatal, for the whole of battle is, as we have seen, a 
battle for morale, and of morale. 

Consider what General Foch points out in the case of Macdonald's 
attack in mass against Archduke Charles at Wagram. We find it : 

"Prepared by a charge of 40 squadrons (to clear for it a place o>f 
assembly), and by the fire of 102 guns (to halt and shake the enemy) ; 
carried out by 50 battalions (22,500 men)." 

But that mass of infantry, whose advance decides the battle, is : 

"Powerless to act by fire, because of the formation it has assumed ; 

"Without effect by the bayonet: nowhere does the enemy await 
the shock ; 

"Doing absolutely no harm to the enemy, while suffering much itself ; 

"Reduced to 1,500 victorious men when it reaches its objective at 
Siissenbrun. 

"In short, the decimated troops beat the decimating troops, and they 
decide the army's advance, that is victory on the March f eld. The result 
was obtained not from the material effects they are all in favor of the 
defeated side but from a purely moral action." 



137 

The "surprise", the "unexpected and terrible" element, that shatters 
the enemy's morale and instilling the conviction of his impotence defeats 
him, is here the undeviating, silent advance of those falling troops, the 
direct spiritual impact of a resolution which manifests its invincibility 
by its acceptance, which persists in its purpose despite such punishment 
as, by every material standard, should cause its abandonment. 

It is the same with our attack upon bur faults. We may ourselves 
suffer far more than the evil in us does, all the material advantages may 
be with it and not with us, but if we persist in our advance, undeterred 
and unshaken by our suffering, with the "will to victory" and confidence 
in it unimpaired, then the evil flies before us. Our morale is heightened, 
the enemy's is destroyed; and with that destruction of its morale, the 
power of evil is gone. It holds us because it has hypnotized us into the 
belief that it is the stronger. Shatter that belief by one such determined, 
victorious assault upon a crucial point and the whole fabric falls apart ; 
and one by one we may destroy its elements. Success or failure is a 
matter of morale, of confidence, of resolution. 

In emphasizing the tactics of the battle, the way in which the entire 
nature is to be concentrated upon a single point of attack, we have 
deliberately minimized the importance of the right choice of that point 
so that a decision there may truly be crucial. This is a vital question for 
the supreme command. What is our "ruling passion"? For it is the 
keystone of the whole arch of evil in us when we conquer that, victory 
is ours. But often, indeed almost always, it lies deep within the defenses 
of the enemy, so that many minor engagements must be fought in order 
to clear the way for the final and crucial one, that we may draw so 
near to the critical position as to be able to attack it, "beginning at close 
range", "carrying it through rapidly", concentrating our entire nature 
upon it with the surprise of "unexpected and terrible" force. All of 
these minor engagements should be undertaken to this one end. In it is 
their cause and meaning, and without it they are but wasted effort, "a 
decision postponed." And therefore there is need of generalship, of the 
closest self-knowledge, of experienced direction. But for the present we 
are concerned only to make wholly clear these principles of "the battle 
of manoeuver" as opposed to the old "battle in line" which is the only 
idea of spiritual warfare that many have conceived or practised. It will 
be profitable to study what General Foch has to say of this. 

"To this battle of manoeuver characterized by one supreme effort, 
the decisive attack producing surprise, there has often been opposed the 
battle in line, in which the engagement is general, and in which the 
commander relies on some favorable circumstance or happy inspiration, 
which generally does not appear, for the choice of time and place of his 
action. He may even depend for this on his subordinates, who in turn 
depend on their subordinates, so that finally the battle is won or lost by 
the rank and file. 

****** 

"In every lottery there are fortunate men who win a prize, yet no 
sensible person depends on lotteries as a means to fortune. Certain 



138 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

causes independent of our will, including chance and happy initiative, 
sometimes determine events, but they cannot be depended on, and still 
less be used as the basis for action. 

"If we analyze the battle in line what do we find? 

"The engagement is general, and needs to be supported everywhere ; 
forces being used up they are renewed, replaced or increased. The 
result is a constant wearing down, against which one struggles until the 
result is obtained by one or more lucky actions of the troops, subaltern 
leaders or soldiers, always from some source of secondary importance 
which can only employ a part of the resources available. 

"The total is made up of a series of more or less similar minor 
battles, out of the control of the higher command." 

Which of us has not known the weariness of this "constant wearing 
down", the daily renewal of the daily struggle to combat all our faults 
at once, the struggle that never seems decisive, that never seems to get 
us anywhere. One day we resist this temptation, but fall into that; the 
next day the success and failure is reversed. The whole line undulates 
back and forth; but it still lies much where it did years ago. It is a 
gruelling strain on our morale, and our "will to victory" sinks perilously 
near to the mere dogged determination to hold on, come what may. 

"It is an inferior form of battle, therefore, if we compare it with 
the battle of manoeuvers, depending on the leadership of the Commander- 
in-Chief, on judicious and combined use of resources at hand, on the 
value of all these resources, true economy of forces aiming at the 
concentration of efforts and of masses on one chosen point. * * * 

"The weakness of the battle in line lies in the fact that it is an attack 
which develops everywhere with equal force, resulting in uniform 
pressure on an enemy who opposes a resistance equally uniform, but of 
superior value because he disposes of special advantages, cover, fields 
of fire, etc., which the attacker does not possess to the same extent. 

"But if we can perceive the weak point in the enemy structure, or 
a point of little resistance, the equilibrium is broken? the mass rushes 
through the breach, and the obstacle is carried. If we seek the weak 
point, or if we create one by our blows on a part of the enemy's line, 
we attain the result. * * * 

****** 

"Theoretically, a battle begun is an attack determined to succeed. 

"Theoretically, also, to be the stronger on a given point at a given 
time, we must apply all the forces simultaneously on that point, and in 
an unexpected manner. 

"When we pass to practice, we shall find that this necessity entails 
others; the principles of protection will appear again, and compel 
sacrifices, absorb forces. 

"To direct the attack, to guard it against the enemy, to prevent the 
enemy from carrying out a similar manoeuver, we shall have to under- 
take and carry through many minor engagements, each one having some 
special purpose. Nevertheless, the decisive attack is the keystone of the 
battle, and all the other combats must only be considered and organized 
in the measure in which they facilitate and assure the development of 
the decisive attack, characterized by mass, by surprise and by speed, for 
which we must constantly reserve the greatest possible number of forces 
and of troops with which to manoeuver. 



THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR 139 

"Hence economy of forces, meaning their distribution and employ- 
ment in battle. 

'The difference between the battle of manoeuvers and the battle in 
line does not consist merely in the difference of results : results planned 
and sought in the one case by a decisive attack ; results hoped for in the 
other case from some happy occurrence on one or several unknown 
points of the front. There is also a complete difference of leadership, 
of execution, of economy of forces. 

"This has to be pointed out, because though we theoretically abandon 
the battle in line, we actually return to it if we have not in advance 
organized our combination with a plan of battle which aims above all at 
decisive attack. 

"In the battle in line, tactics merely consist in overcoming hostile 
resistance by a slow and progressive wear of the enemy's resources; 
for that purpose the fight is kept up everywhere. It must be supported, 
and such is the use made of reserves. They become warehouses into 
which one dips to replace the wear and tear as it occurs. Art consists 
in having a reserve when the opponent no longer has one, so as to have 
the last word in a struggle in which wearing down is the only argument 
employed. In that case the reserves have no place chosen in advance, 
there must be some everywhere, ready to be employed wherever needed 
to continue action on the whole front. They are gradually absorbed, and 
their only purpose is to keep the battle from dying out. 

"In the battle of manoeuvers, the reserve is a sledge hammer, planned 
and carefully preserved to execute the only action from which any 
decisive result is expected : the final attack. The reserve is meanwhile 
husbanded with the utmost caution, in order that the tool may be as 
strong, the blow as violent as possible. 

"Finally, it is thrust into the struggle boldly, with a firm determina- 
tion to carry a chosen point. Employed for that purpose as a mass, in 
an action surpassing in energy and violence all the other stages of the 
battle, it has but one objective. 

"According to Napoleon, there was no general reserve as such. He 
had troops reserved, but for the purpose of manoeuvering and attacking 
with more energy than the others. 

" 'One often speaks of the use and necessity of strong reserves. 
The dogma is closely connected with the theory of progressive consump- 
tion of forces; it is considered a sacred dogma. But every reserve 
represents a dead force. . . . The reserves are useful only on 
condition of being engaged. . . . One can even imagine a case 
where it would be wiser to have no reserve; that is where the enemy's 
force would be precisely known, and when he was already fully deployed.' 
(Von der Goltz) 

"The difference in employment of the reserves is so great between 
the two kinds of battle that the other differences are sometimes forgotten. 

"The battle in line is a principle of the French Army of 1870, or 
rather the absence of principle as to the conduct of the battle. It is a 
case of everyone for himself, defeat being always officially due to the 
arrival of strong reinforcements on the German line; but these reinforce- 
ments were precisely troops reserved and brought in numbers to that 
point to create the demoralization by which armies are destroyed. 

"This wording of our official reports shows also that if these fresh 
troops had come to us, it is only as reinforcements that they would have 
been used, for distribution all along the line, and not as means to an 
action of which nobody thought." 



140 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

What are the disciple's reserves, which he must not fritter away by 
distributing as mere reinforcements all along the line, in mere general 
good intentions ? They are all the resources of his being, and this means 
all the powers of the spiritual world to which he has access or upon 
which he can draw. It includes the daily reinforcement and inspiration 
that come to him from prayer, from meditation, from intercourse with 
his fellows, from spiritual reading, from any and every source of 
strength, from the Master's knowledge of his need. With him as with 
Napoleon, "there is no general reserve as such. He has troops reserved 
but for the purpose of manoeuvering and attacking with greater energy 
than the others." And these he is to use as "a sledge-hammer", for a 
blow to be struck at one definite point and with one definite object. 
Inspiration is not given him merely to squander in vague, pious intentions, 
to be dribbled into the conflict drop by drop without effect, or sprayed 
over his entire line like some sweet smelling oil. It is given him for the 
purpose of definite attack, to accomplish results. Therefore it is that 
we are told that "every meditation must end with a definite resolution", 
that which we gain from it being "aimed in one direction, for the 
purpose of accomplishing one final result: the foreseen, determined and 
sudden action of masses employing surprise" ; victory through battle. 

Like the Bhagavad Gita, General Foch presents to us the laws of 
discipleship through the principles of war, of which they are the highest 
and eternal expression. 

HENRY BEDINGER MITCHELL. 



// the poor lost souls had the time that we waste, what good use they 
would make of it! If they had only half an hour, that half hour would 
depopulate hell. Cure d'Ars. 



HIGH EXPLOSIVES 



THE QUARTERLY is a tribune of frank speech. Each who mounts 
it is solely responsible for what he says. He may not and, 
indeed, cannot, speak for others. Therefore, it becomes safe to 
venture the expression of an individual, deep-hearted longing 
that more members of the T.S. would seek for Theosophy in the writings 
and prayers of the great Catholic Saints and mystics. Have not too 
many of us left that power to be used alone by those most opposed to 
all that the T.S. is trying to do? Why not use the dynamic teachings 
and the dynamic prayers for our own Cause ? The Allies are not foolish 
enough to let the Germans monopolize high explosives. Why, on a 
higher Allied plane, should we ? 

Three friends were travelling together. Two were fellow members 
of the T.S. Anstey has only recently joined the Society. He is a broad- 
minded and devout Catholic. Brooke has been a member for several 
years yet he often says: "I feel as if I were just joining." He was 
brought up a Protestant and admits that he was once most sympathetic 
to the A. P. A. The non-member, Hare, was a great friend of Brooke's 
in the pre-T.S. days of the latter's life. Hare is a lawyer. 

While Hare was looking over some papers, Anstey and Brooke were 
talking about the Convention. Hare looked up and said : "By the way, 
Brooke, don't all Theosophical people belong to one Theosophical 
Society?" 

"By no means any more than all men in the State of New York 
who call themselves lawyers belong to the same Bar Associations. Other 
societies with diametrically opposite viewpoints use the name Theosophy." 

"Then you did not have to avow belief in any particular creed when 
you joined what you call the T.S.' ?" 

Anstey answered him, smiling as he spoke. "Of course we had to 
and to agree to live up to our faith." 

"What is it ? Re-incarnation ?" 

"Certainly not. Most of our students are convinced that reincarna- 
tion is a scientific fact, but we have members in good and regular standing 
who do not believe in it at all." 

"Do stop being owl-like, and tell me what is the one and essential 
dogma of your T.S. ?" 

"A never failing tolerance of the beliefs and convictions of others." 

"That's not a dogma. It seems easy enough and broad enough for 
any one to conform to. I do not see where you leave a chance for 
non-conformists." 



142 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

"The T.S. doesn't, yet sometimes they find it! Haven't each of us 
got something that we find it hard to be tolerant towards quite aside 
from any moral question being involved, or even a question of good 
taste?" 

Hare answered somewhat slowly: "Do you know, I have rather 
counted upon this trip to give me a chance to clear up things and to 
know more about your T.S., for, I find, I have been growing more and 
more interested in it, or at the least, more curious about it. Yet I find 
myself feeling that I may seem to be rude if I am to be as frank as I 
fear I shall have to be, to get at what I want." 

"We will try to be truly model members of the T.S. and endeavor 
to be more interested in what you have to say than even in what we are 
longing to bring out. A good member should never be unsympathetically 
antagonistic or argumentative now shoot !" 

"Be serious tell me, does that mean that you people are really 
interested in the other side's case and opinions, or that you only permit 
their development in order to combat them the more effectively ?" 

"It means, as Professor Mitchell explains in his little book, 
Theosophy and the Theosophical Society, that we of the T.S. are, or 
ought to be, interested in the views of others and really interested at 
that. To get irritated or angry even when criticized unjustly whether 
from malice or ignorance shows that we newer students still keep our 
Theosophical work too much in our minds, and not enough in our hearts, 
and so, of course, we do not show it forth in our lives as we should. 
But we have learned to be ashamed when we let our self-willed 
attachment to our own esteem irritate us." 

"But haven't you any convictions?" 

"I, individually, have absolute convictions, which I am seeking to 
strengthen and make a ruling power over my will and in my life, but 
these are not T.S. convictions. As a member of the Society the very 
strength of my own convictions should make me the more respect other 
men's convictions?" 

"What about the Germans do you respect their convictions ?" 

"I have no use for a German traitor, nor have I any use for a weak- 
hearted American, who would fail to run his bayonet through a German 
just because he thought that the German believed he had a right, in the 
name of Germany and kultur, to outrage a woman or disembowel a child. 
The American has his duty which is to destroy the destroyers of all 
that he believes to be right and holy. I admire the Devil's industry; 
I respect his strength of conviction, but that is no reason why I should 
let up in my fight against him and all his works. Rather, should not 
my respect for him keep me more on guard, and warn and nerve me to 
fight all the harder determined that he shall not overcome me with his 
perfected and admirable equipment so foully used?" 

"I asked a stupid question," said Hare. "I knew the answer. That 
book, you lent me, Brooke, the Bhagavad Gita, really covers that, in the 



HIGH EXPLOSIVES 143 

answer of Krishna to Arjuna and I'll admit that Jesus Christ taught 
the same lesson, as Mr. Johnston's commentaries show. And, by the way, 
Brooke, I have had a chance to read your QUARTERLY at last, after 
turning down the opportunities you have afforded me. I have had a good, 
long chance to look over some of your recent numbers. I certainly do 
remember now that I was filled with admiration of the magnificent stand 
on the war question and I don't mind admitting that I now regard the 
QUARTERLY as a very good periodical but you know you have promised 
to overlook my frankness one effect upon me was to leave me irritated." 

"What was it that belonged to you so very much that you got 
irritated ?" 

"It was the extremely Catholic note in several of the articles." 

Then Hare flushed a little and turned to Anstey to say: "I really 
beg your pardon I had forgotten that you were a Catholic getting 
back to one of the old-time cudgels-out talks with Brooke here." 

"You are simply keeping your promise to be frank and I can match 
your story. I let one of my family have a copy of the QUARTERLY the 
other evening. I got it back the next morning with a note saying that it 
was altogether too heathenish for any Christian to dare to leave lying 
around. I have no doubt that many and many a Bishop and priest would 
think that I merited excommunication for reading it to say nothing of 
the sin of having joined the T.S. so please go on opening your window 
for us." 

"Of course I liked the articles with an Oriental flavour, that seemed 
so heathenish to your family, especially the articles on Oriental religions 
and their basic principles, but how can there be any place for Catholicism 
in a publication like the QUARTERLY? You say you have no dogma 
is Catholicism anything but dogma of the narrowest and most 
uncharitable kind?" 

"I suppose," said Brooke, "that it is the Romanist's assumption that 
we are all so utterly damned because of our heresy or schism when we 
feel that we are no better or no worse than they are that makes us so 
intolerant of the Romanists." 

"Don't be so extremely Anglican, Brooke. Use good Americanese 
and say 'Catholic' and 'Catholicism.' Furthermore, I doubt if your point 
be well taken, for no one holds to such a sense of superiority as your 
positive Baptist." Then Hare took out his note book, saying: "Here is 
something a newspaper friend gave me. It was said to him by a Baptist 
clergyman : 'Nothing so tries my faith as my knowledge that so many 
good people, perfectly good according to my lights, are predestined to 
hell fire, while so many people, who seem to me bad, will yet repent and 
are predestined to be saved but the mysteries of the Almighty are 
beyond human comprehension.' And most Baptists, I have found, 
believe that they are of the elect and that the rest of us are of the 
damned. Yet we don't get excited against the Baptists, as we do towards 
the Catholics." 



144 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

"I suppose that is due," said Brooke, "to the fact that most of our 
history comes to us from Protestant sources and leaves us prejudiced." 

"That may account for it in part," replied Anstey, "but I think it 
also rests on an entirely unconscious recognition of a half-truth, and I 
am a Catholic myself. 

"Every regular reader of the QUARTERLY knows the difference 
between the Catholic political, so-to-speak, organization and the Catholic 
ideal. There is one great wing of the Catholic church, as such, known 
as the 'Vatican party,' that is, I believe, a deadly menace to both the 
world and to my religion. There is another wing, however, sometimes 
called the 'Gallican party', (but don't confuse it with what is technically 
called 'Gallicanism'), which is, I believe, the hope not only of our church 
but, possibly even of Christianity." 

"I can understand your being a member of the Society feeling that 
way, as you do but it seems even bewildering that you should remain 
loyal to your old church. Where do you find a common ground?" 

"It will seem paradoxical, perhaps, for it is in the T.S. itself. If I 
had not found that haven I should be drifting out to sea, as is the 
unhappy lot of so many of the more intelligent and the more intellectually 
honest Catholics in America. I met one of the older T.S. members, an 
able business man whom I had known in earlier days. He talked about 
Theosophy to me. At the same time he spoke of our Lord Jesus Christ 
with a love and with a faith in His continued existence as a living 
individuality, actively working for us, such as I have rarely known to 
be equalled in my own church. As it so happens I had never known it 
to be felt at all outside, though since I have found that there are some 
small groups of people who believe in the Power of the Divine Man, 
still both man and divine. I asked this charming gentleman how he could 
be a Theosophist and so truly a Christian. He asked me, in turn, a 
question that set me to thinking and to reading until, here I am, both a 
Catholic and a member of the T.S." 

"May I ask what that question was?" 

"My friend asked me: 'Can you imagine a truer or a better 
Theosophist than the Lord Jesus Christ?' Out of my meditation on this 
came a desire for more light and I wrote him. From this came three 
little books : Meditation, Fragments, Volume I, and Light on the Path. 
I have been encouraged to read widely by my spiritual directors and so I 
read these books. From them I learned more of the heart of my own 
religion than I had ever known. Then the QUARTERLY and other books 
were sent to me and it has all ended to my great good, or so do I believe." 

"I, too, and others also, know and are indebted to that wise and 
loving friend of yours. How many of us he has helped, and ever with 
humour and patience," said Brooke. "How true was his remark about 
Our Lord. One cannot conceive of a truer, better Theosophist. Every 
page of Theosophical literature that I have read convinces me that He 
was taught in the Secret Doctrine before ever He began to preach and 



HIGH EXPLOSIVES 145 

teach in public. I believe, too, that He taught Theosophy with a 
directness and simplicity that make His teaching more Theosophical than 
even the recent work of Madame Blavatsky, Mr. Judge and the present 
leaders of the T.S. But why should He not be considered as Himself 
the most recent and even the most up-to-date Teacher of Theosophy? 
In the first place can there be fashions in the Truth? Moreover, there 
certainly can be no improvements on the Truth. Finally, it seems to me, 
that if reading Theosophical works did nothing else for one, it would 
bring that satisfactory conviction of which you speak that Our Lord 
still teaches us directly, as well as through His work in Palestine : teaches 
us, furthermore, as the Living Man that you recognize Him to be 
a Living Man, though of infinitely higher degree than we are, yet still 
as human yes, more human than we are." 

Said Hare : "Brooke, do you really believe this ?" 

"I most certainly do how could I fail to, when I have been reading 
every Theosophical document and publication that I may lay my hands 
on, going back to the days of the Seventies, to say nothing of the Nineties 
and since, and as a result have turned back for complementary reading 
to the Bible and the Saints." 

"And I," said Anstey, "have found Theosophy in the writings and 
teachings of the Saints of my church from the Apostles, who received 
the immediate teachings of Our Lord, to the Little Flower of Jesus, 
Soeur Therese of Lisieux, a charming little saint of the end of the 19th 
Century, who had never read the Upanishads or the Bhagavad Gita, shut 
up as she was in a Carmelite Convent at 15, and yet whose soul knew 
their teachings, and even their vocabulary, by heart." 

"You puzzle me," remarked Hare, "you speak of those Saints as if 
they were Theosophists, not Catholics." 

"I do not know enough of the history of the T.S. in former 
centuries for I must confess that I have not read the Secret Doctrine, 
that really marvellous compendium of Madame Blavatsky's, as thor- 
oughly as I look forward to doing so I really do not know if some of 
them belonged to some form of outer T.S.-, but I am convinced that 
their souls belonged to the real T.S. It seems to me that there can 
be no question but that their spirits were in full communion with the 
Masters and indeed were a part and parcel of the consciousness of the 
Masters, which I notice in the Theosophical magazines of the older days, 
and even sometimes in the QUARTERLY, is called 'The Lodge.' For 
instance, I do not understand how any fair-minded reader of their works 
can fail to recognize Theosophical training in St. Paul, St. Peter, St. John 
and the other Gospel writers, in St. Benedict, St. Ignatius, St. Francis 
de Sales, St. Gertrude, the Blessed Margaret Mary and Madame Barat, 
to name a handful of the scores who might be named." 

"Some of our members," Brooke said, "feel that they are so Catholic 
that one cannot recognize the Theosophical." 

10 



146 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

"I am not sure," said Hare, "but that I share something of their 
feeling, if you will continue to let me be frank to the verge of rudeness. 
It did seem to me, when I was reading the QUARTERLY, that it did not 
always regard the prejudices of the major body of Americans, who must 
be represented among your members. As I understand, it is the aim of 
your Society to draw people together not to risk driving them apart and 
away from you by offending them, or by exciting their prejudices." 

"Brooke, by the way, why is it," Anstey asked, "that the Protestant- 
minded, as you always call them, are so unwilling to look beneath the 
symbol for what is symbolized ? Nothing has been more surprising to me, 
especially since I joined the T. S., than the way that people, even some 
of our members, refuse to take help from wherever they may find it. 
Label a thing '1400' or '1600' and they will turn away askance and some- 
times even offended. 'Show me something in September, 1918 styles' 
they seem to say as if the Truth could change. I am especially puzzled 
over the case of some members of the T.S. who welcome anything from 
the East though themselves reincarnating as Westerners and positively 
refuse to take help from Western teachings that, to me at least, seem 
fully as Theosophical as anything that Madame Blavatsky herself wrote ?" 

"I am going to venture to give part of the answer myself," said Hare. 
"So far as you may be referring to Catholic writings and teachings we 
feel that the Catholics themselves take and offer the symbols as the sole 
end and substance of all that is in and of the teachings themselves. 

"I suspect that you are too polite to say that you think that we are 
too materialistic. It is true, and it is a source of great grief to many a 
Catholic. The faction in our church that happens to be in control of the 
Vatican and, thereby of the church organization as such, is most 
lamentably materialistic. Why, though, condemn the earlier and spiritual 
teachers because of the sins and sad mistakes of their degenerate 
descendants? One might as logically condemn our Lord Himself, or 
refuse to use the Gospels, because they are used and misused by the 
Mormons. Thank God, my church is not hopelessly materialistic so long 
as Cardinal Mercier defies Germany and the Vatican alike and exposes 
to public scorn and horror the acts of the very party that even the Pope 
is so loyally trying to serve the German-Austrian-Vatican Alliance, with 
its clerical and political ramifications in Spain, Ireland, Quebec and even 
the United States itself." 

"Please, may I ask a question?" said Brooke. "Did either of you 
ever by chance read The Book of the Deadf It is a compilation, as I 
understand, of ancient Egyptian rituals. I was interested to find that 
those old Egyptians used some of the very ejaculations of St. Gertrude 
and the Blessed Margaret Mary and the Rosetta stone was not found, 
and the translations of the old rituals made possible, until long after they 
were dead. It was the recognition of this universality that lessened my 
own repugnance and which has led some of my friends, though Episco- 
palians, to turn to the Sacred Heart Devotion." 



HIGH EXPLOSIVES 147 

"That throws some interesting light on the problem," said Hare, 
"but, I find myself still wondering how it is that Episcopalians are willing 
to use what, as I have gathered from some of my Irish Catholic clients, 
is perhaps the most partisan weapon of the most militant and uncom- 
promising Catholics for I have been given to understand that the Sacred 
Heart Devotion is under the special patronage and direction of the 
Black Pope himself and his Jesuits." 

"I am not sure," replied Anstey, "that the Ultramontane or extreme 
party in my church the party that, to our sorrow, is today in control 
of the Vatican and is helping Germany uses the Sacred Heart Devotion 
as a weapon any more than they do the Psalms, or the Gospels, or the 
Lord's Prayer, or the Apostle's Creed. The only real difference that I 
can see, is that the rest of the Christian church has, until recently, 
allowed them the exclusive use of the Devotion. The day may come 
when that Devotion will be as much a part of all church worship as is 
the Creed today. Do you happen to know that Mr. James, who gave so 
generously to the Union Theological Seminary, and who was one of the 
strongest Presbyterians in the country, gave $100,000 to the Episcopal 
Cathedral of St. John the Divine, because, as he said, he wanted to 
contribute towards the greatest permanent monument to the Apostle's 
Creed that was being erected in America? Perhaps we may live to see 
the day when some Methodist millionaire, inspired to look for the truth 
in a spirit of tolerance, will erect a monument in New York to the Blessed 
Margaret Mary, as the individual who has done the most in modern 
times, to combat the Unitarian trend, and to restore to the consciousness 
of the world recognition of Jesus the Christ as Living Master and 
Teacher." 

"He will have to be a member of the T.S.," said Brooke. "I always 
feel that the Society is carrying on her great work. Is it not our 
literature that brings out the truth and the simplicity of the Revelations 
to her, the power in her responses to them, and rescues the Devotion 
from the attempt to monopolize it and degrade it as partisan propaganda ? 

"Only recently I have been carrying on some simultaneous reading. 
I have been reading together, so to speak, a book on the life of the 
Blessed Margaret Mary, giving many of her prayers, with The Occult 
World and Esoteric Buddhism, while using Light on the Path and her 
prayers in my devotions. I have found that each illuminates all the 
others. More than that, I feel that I can not understand anything about 
the Secret Doctrine without the help of the Sacred Heart Devotion. 
How could I, when all trace back to the same source ? Anyone who will 
try this experiment of the simultaneous reading of those books, will 
certainly find a new vocabulary in which to express feelings growing^ 
from T.S. work a vocabulary superior to mere mind words." 

"It is just that matter of vocabulary," came Anstey 's comment, 
"that makes so much of the difficulty that modern readers have with the 
writings of the Saints. If they would only read them as they would 



148 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

read a foreign language, trying to get at the meaning of the writer apart 
from the mere words used. Many people find the imagery distasteful 
to them but, if they did but realize it, that is because they so grossly 
materialize the spiritual meaning of the Saints, which to say the least, 
is not the fault of the Saints. Others resent what they call the 
extravagance of the language, but that again is because they themselves 
have never really felt anything deeply and so assume that anyone who 
expresses intense feeling must be hypocritical. In fact our reaction to 
the writings of the great Saints is a most illuminating self-revelation if 
we will but probe into it. 

"And, don't you think, Brooke, that it is important that the works 
of the Saints be read and their prayers used in the spirit of the T.S., 
recognizing that the terms are those of men and women who read little 
but prayed much, who loved deeply but had little use for mere words 
and, as a matter of fact, knew very few words? Or, in other words, 
that we should follow the method taught in the First Comment in 
Light on the Path, seeking to find the cipher that lies within the words ?" 

"That," said Brooke, "is the Comment that has helped me to get 
inspiration and help from all sorts of seemingly incongruous things. 
What power there is within the compass of that small book." 

Hare spoke out with a certain suddenness, as if he had reached some 
decision. 

"Well, Brooke, if you, one of the very last people in the world the 
Protestant-minded among your old time friends would have suspected of 
it, use Roman Catholicism to keep loyal to your T.S., what, may I ask, 
Anstey, do you as a Catholic, use to keep you loyal to the T.S.?" 

Anstey reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a worn copy of 
The Voice of the Silence. "This," he said simply, "is what I have been 
using of late. It has helped me to know better, and to use better, with 
help and renewed power, the Sacred Heart Devotion." 

"Brooke," said Hare, turning to his older friend, "it is not surprising 
to have Anstey taking the Saints and their works seriously, but I can't 
get used to having you so much on their side. It seems mean to bring 
it up, but I do want to understand your position, so you won't mind my 
reminding you of the days when you classified the Saints as hysteriacs 
and epileptics?" 

"That is unfortunately true. But my excuse is that all that sort of 
silliness was before I joined the T.S. and learned to look up facts for 
myself and to form my own opinions. I had never read anything about 
the Saints that was accurate. I could not have been hired really to read 
and to try to understand anything that they had written at least the 
post-Gospel Saints." 

"Which Saints did Brooke use to call epileptics?" asked Anstey, 
with mingled interest and amusement. Hare seemed to be trying to 
refresh his memory before replying: 



HIGH EXPLOSIVES 149 

"Why St. Paul St. John we understood to be a sort of prose poet 
and St. Teresa and St. Francis and that Italian Saint St. Catherine, 
I believe, and that Saint who started the Jesuits what was his name?" 

"St. Ignatius," Brooke explained. 

"I supposed you would include Napoleon," said Anstey. 

"That's so, I have heard him classed as one of the epileptics." 

"I have never had an opportunity to run down that sort of thing to 
its source," said Anstey, "but I feel very confident that we could trace 
it to German 'Scholarship.' As pointed out in the January number of 
The Atlantic Monthly, the Germans have done their level best to wipe 
out all traces of what the writer calls the 'supernatural' but which most 
members of the T.S. would call the 'superhuman,' for we do not believe 
that anything can transgress the Laws of Nature and so be supernatural. 
But even modern science has come to abandon the epilepsy theory in 
connection with genius or the unusual. Go to any State Commission's 
report or to any trained student and he will satisfy you that the epileptic 
is sub-normal, especially in intellect. Then read the Gospels and Acts 
and the Epistles; read the Lives and writings of the Saints and see if 
they were not super-normal intellectually." 

"I'd like to rest the matter on two cases," Brooke said; "on the 
cases of two marvellous maidens, more marvellous than any heroines of 
fairy tales, yet as authentic as Lincoln or Gladstone. I mean The Maid 
of France and the Blessed Margaret Mary of the Sacred Heart. I'd 
like to know any purely rationalistic explanation that will account for 
them or for their power." 

"Most people suppose that Joan of Arc shamed the men of her 
France into being men and became a symbol, so to speak ?" Hare spoke 
rather doubtfully. 

"Either Mark Twain or Andrew Lang points out that we know 
more about The Maid than we do of any other human being of promi- 
nence. The trial that martyred her, searched her life. The Process of 
Rehabilitation did the same thing. We still have the formal records, 
taken down at the very times details of questions and sworn answers, 
covering her short 18 years. Read the stories of her life of her 
knowledge of diplomacy, strategy political and military and military 
tactics, including the use of artillery from the minute she first laid eyes 
on a gun and artillery has always been regarded as scientific and 
technical. Go into the matter. Then ask yourself which is really the 
more miraculous that a sweet and charming little country girl, who 
had never been away from home until at 17 she became the only person 
of that age of either sex who has successfully served as Commander-in- 
Chief of an Army in the Field, should have developed without training 
or knowledge; or that she was a great soul, incarnating to help her 
beloved France and aided in her exile in the body by her friends, 
St. Michael, St. Catherine and St. Margaret. The one is an absurdity 
the other, the doctrine of mysticism and faith, seems to me to be the 



150 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

only reasonable explanation. Has Brooke never told you of that address 
at his little church, in which it was said that all people in all times under 
all religions who have tried certain practices of which purity, humility 
and sacrifice are the most important have, without exception, reached 
the same faith in revelation and in communion with a Master?" 

"Yes, he told me. It impressed me." 

"Why can't we put aside all prejudices and admit the facts in the 
matter of The Maid?" asked Brooke. "I can recall when men used to 
say of Professor Langley that it was a pity that his great scientific 
work in astronomy and mathematics had broken down his brain and had 
led him to take up the 'scientific impossibility' of mechanical flight. 
Science dependable? Nonsense!" 

"You don't mean quite that, Brooke," said Anstey. "Don't you 
mean that to pin all our faith to the lower brain activities that men limit 
as alone scientific is nonsense? I know that you believe that there is 
real science within religion and revelation or you wouldn't have stayed 
in the T.S." 

"I do, of course, but let's take that for granted and give Hare the 
floor, for you both have chances enough to hear me talk about my own 
views. What's next, Hare." 

"I want to know something more about that other maiden saint you 
spoke of in conjunction with The Maid no, excuse me before we 
leave The Maid I think I ought to tell you a story which has just come 
back into my mind. After the War had been going for several months 
I think it was in December, 1914, a very competent and prominent 
young Jewish banker came back from Paris. I met him one evening, 
when he was telling of his experiences. One of the people present asked 
the inevitable American question 'What was the most remarkable thing 
that you saw while you were over there?' The banker said that, as he 
was sure we all knew, he was a Jew and like most of his class had lost 
his religious faith and had become what he called a scientific agnostic. 
He said he thought that we would hardly credit his truthfulness if he 
were to answer the question honestly. 

" 'Go ahead,' said our host, 'there isn't a man who knows you who 
doesn't know that you are absolutely truthful.' 

" 'The most remarkable phase of the War that I have seen was 
when 75,000 of us thanked Joan of Arc for having saved Paris.' 

" 'What do you mean by that ?' was asked. 

" 'Exactly what I said. It was the great service of thanksgiving to 
The Maid of France at the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris.' 

"Said one of the party : 'You mean a sort of memorial service that 
was held. I read of it. You spoke as though you and the rest were 
thanking The Maid personally.' 

" 'That is exactly what I meant. That was what each one of us felt 
and believed. The Cathedral was packed. Thousands knelt in the 
streets. I was outside. As the service went on, I too, Jew that I am, 



HIGH EXPLOSIVES 151 

agnostic as I was, I too knelt. We thanked The Maid as saviour of Paris 
and of France. We thanked her as a living leader, not as a dead Saint. 
That I regard as the biggest thing I saw abroad. There was not a soul 
in that 75,000 who did not feel and know as I felt and knew. And we 
felt her appreciation of our gratitude.' 

" 'Mob hysteria, was it not ?' spoke up the man who had brought 
the banker. The Jew laughed outright : 'You have known me for years 
and you ought to know that I am not a man to be moved by mob hysteria. 
Don't you remember the tests I passed in our courses in psychology? 
Every instinct and emotion ; every bit of reason, conviction and ratiocina- 
tion was up in arms to guard against hysteria. I was cooler and better 
self-controlled than I have ever been. I started with a sense of kindly 
contempt and "scientific" pity for the mob but, I tell you, I know. 
The Maid saved Paris and we thanked her and she accepted our thanks 
with a sweetness, a simplicity and a dignity that I have never known to 
be equalled.' " 

"Did you think it was hysterical ?" asked Anstey. 

"I did not," answered Hare flatly. "More than that," he added, 
"there was not one of those who heard him who did not believe as I did 
and do. Paris thanked The Maid, thanked her, not some amorphous 
spirit or ideal or vague symbol, but consciously thanked a living 
personality for personal services rendered in time of greatest need." 

"As a lawyer, Hare, I doubt if you ever have known a case more 
strongly buttressed with unimpeachable evidence, both in character and 
preponderance, than has been brought forward in regard to the 
phenomenal and superhuman intervention of the Inner World in this war. 
If it were in any other line you would acclaim it." Brooke was much 
in earnest. 

"Why do men hold back?" 

"Perhaps," said Anstey, "the frank reply of a brother lawyer of 
yours may answer you. He had been seeing a great deal of a certain 
remarkable group of people. Suddenly he stopped going to see them. 
One of his friends asked him why he had stopped. The answer was: 
'I could not go on without having to adopt standards in my life that I 
am not ready to accept yet never have I known such remarkable 
people; remarkable in so many ways and so many lines.' Most of us 
fear the standards we know that we should have to adopt if once we 
believed in the intervention of Divine individuals in the affairs of life, 
but few of us have the frankness of that lawyer." 

"Yes," said Hare thoughtfully, "it certainly would make! a great 
difference if one did come to believe in them. It is interesting to find 
men like you and Brooke so frank in your faith and to know that so 
many men of intelligence and understanding as your T.S. associates, 
are equally frank and simple in their faith. But what about that other 
young maiden Saint Margaret Mary, you called her? If reading 
about the Saints and reading what they have written themselves has taken 



152 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Brooke away from the A.P.A., I may yet be made to realize that the 
Sacred Heart Devotion has its true and scientific bases and is not merely 
a clever scheme of the latter-day Jesuits." 

"Perhaps one great trouble," said Brooke, "is that we all fall into 
the mistake of thinking of the Saints as more or less colourless person- 
alities, hardly more than names in type. Were they not the most vital 
of people? Robert Ingersoll once wrote to the effect: 'Washington is 
now only a steel engraving. About the real man, who lived and loved 
and schemed and hated we know but little.' There is an exactness of 
connotation in the words 'steel engraving,' that I have always delighted in. 
I feel that most of us feel as if the Saints were even fainter than that 
more like a weak, washed-out, amateurish water-colour, I should say. 

"Most of us hate to sacrifice ourselves or to give up anything in 
which we feel ourselves especially interested. How rare it is that we do 
it deliberately? But there are mighty few people who do not make 
sacrifices unconsciously and continuously for those whom they love. 
The Saints knew the full value of sacrifice. Don't you remember" 
Brooke turned to Anstey "those extraordinary two sentences 
published in the QUARTERLY that put it all in so few words ? Let me see 
as I recall they ran like this: 'Everything is founded on sacrifice. 
God set the example when He created the Universe.' So, don't we build 
Theosophical foundations when we sacrifice our prejudices to let in 
more of the Truth? 

"And, won't we agree that it is much easier to stimulate one's self 
to needed sacrifices in behalf of the Truth and its Cause if we will use 
the terms of the known, terms of the easily understood, especially if we 
use the vocabulary of the days when the doctrine of dedication of one's 
self as a religious was more generally comprehended than it is today? 
Why should we stick to the valourous ignorance of bigotry and condemn 
all religious communities and all religious, even the Saints, because of 
the faults of a few men and women ? We are all human and that means 
that some of us are bound to fail in our endeavours and fall short of our 
known ideals, but why damn those who try and who do not fail?" 

Brooke grew more earnest as he went on. "I am trying to be a 
faithful Churchman and am actively interested in the Episcopal church 
I am loyal to it, I believe yet I was turned back to it, after years of 
unhappy agnosticism, by what many people call Buddhistic teachings. 
I owe everything to a group of friends, yet in these I have to include 
some whom I have not known as ordinary human beings. Take Madame 
Blavatsky, for instance, she had died before I became interested in the 
T.S. and before, through membership in it, I grew to know and to believe 
in the teachings of Christ and to seek to give to Him my allegiance. 
Each year I feel an increasing sense of great personal obligation to 
Madame Blavatsky. Yet I can remember, as a boy, how she was 
regarded as anti-Christian due entirely to her being misunderstood. 
She was deeply learned in Eastern religions, but that only made her the 



HIGH EXPLOSIVES 153 

better appreciate the Truth of what Christ taught and the reality of 
His Mission to us Western people. Her true appreciation of Him, I feel, 
made her flame with indignation at the way in which dogmatic theology 
had grown to misunderstand Him and to misrepresent Him, and, I feel, 
she worked hard, and with love and loyalty, to enable people to know 
Him as He is. Then take the Master K.H., whose letters and other 
writings I hope Hare may yet read. I actually regard him as a friend 
whom I love. I have never seen him, but I believe in him and in his 
help. Yet his body, according to Mr. Sinnett and others is that of a 
Buddhist guru. No one has done more to bring me back to love of our 
Master than the Master K.H., yet I am not a Buddhist, but a 'conven- 
tional Christian', as a Harvard friend describes us. Still I can be 
sympathetic with the truth in either Buddhism or Catholicism, without 
having to be either a Buddhist or a Catholic; and I should seek help 
from both, if I can find it. The better members of the T.S. we are, the 
more true this should be. This is so obvious I wonder why we don't 
see it always." 

"If we all did," said Anstey, "what a difference it would make. 
How it would help in this great war. On the outer plane Germany 
began it and was prepared and united able and ready to utilize every 
available means. The Allies were slow, and have been slow, to unite 
in using all means available and permissible. By using words and 
phrases Germany has seduced Russia and came near breaking Italy. 
Why should we not think that the Dark Forces will try to use prejudices 
to divide our side and to prevent our using dynamic forces available. 
They will stop at nothing to avoid a Victorious Alliance against them 
on all planes. Let us use all kinds of weapons that we may, all the high 
explosives available and everything else that is legitimate to help us win 
the Great Fight and to forward our Cause whether that help be labelled 
Christian or Buddhist Catholic, Protestant or mathematically scientific 
let us all unite in seeking everywhere for the Truth with which to 
wage this war against the Devil and all his cohorts." 

"Is there a better place to seek than in the T.S. ?" asked Brooke. 

"None provided we will use what we may find." 

Will we? 

EXENTH ROOT. 



X 

MODERN DOMINICANS AND PERE LACORDAIRE 

LIKE most of the Religious Orders, the Dominicans suffered from 
the atheistic and humanitarian influences of the French Revolu- 
tion. At the beginning of the 19th Century there was no 
Dominican center in France. 

The Order was restored in France by Henri Lacordaire, an 
ecclesiastic who was as conspicuous in France as his contemporary, 
Newman, was in England. Lacordaire was a brilliant orator, and, when 
not aggressively assertive, he was magnetic. His brilliant oratory and 
his theatrical career have extended his fame and influence outside his 
own country and age. St. Dominic and St. Thomas (Aquinas) are the 
two great saints of the Order ; but to young Dominicans today, they seem 
on unattainable heights, perhaps, while Lacordaire is nearer and more 
accessible. 

From early manhood until his death, he was a conspicuous, some- 
times a sensational, figure in French life. He died in 1861. As we 
study his biography and his opinions, we come to see that, despite an 
ecclesiastical, even a monastic habit, and despite life-long occupation 
with religious objects, he belongs to what we hope is the past of 
France namely, disintegrating liberalism. To study his life is a lesson 
in discrimination between what is spiritual in religion and what is psychic. 

He was born in 1802, the year when Chateaubriand published his 
momentous Genie du Christianisme. This work must be characterized as 
momentous, although the author himself was a morbid, self-centred, and 
egoistic worldling. The significant thing about the book is the recogni- 
tion, by a man of letters and a gentleman, of the validity of religious 
feeling. Men of letters of the preceding generation were 6f Voltaire's 
mould they classed religious feeling as a kind of superstition. Chateau- 
briand, on the contrary, saw it more truly as a fact of nature. The 
appearance of the book coincided, in the second place, with Napoleon's 
effort to give validity to religious feeling by the restoration of the 
Catholic Church. Napoleon's genius was redemptive and creative. He 
was trying to bring order and sanity out of the intellectual welter of the 
Revolution. His Concordat of 1802, by which the Catholic Church was 
restored, is sometimes looked upon as a matter of policy. Perhaps 
Napoleon might have said, that, judging from the plane of the absolute, 
the Catholic Church was not the final and highest embodiment of truth. 
But he was not working on the plane of the absolute; he was working 
in chaotic France, where faith in spiritual things had been undermined 
by puerile speculations. The Catholic Church was the fittest instrument 

S4 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 155 

he could find for bringing again to men's attention the realities of the 
spirit. Working toward this aim, Napoleon extended a cordial welcome 
to the author of Le Genie du Christianisme , entrusted him with a 
diplomatic mission, and endeavored to draw him into the circle of his 
cooperators. Like many another, Chateaubriand was not equal to his 
opportunity. His vanity and conceit blinded him; he could not see or 
understand the Emperor's aim he played fast and loose in politics, loyal 
to nothing but his own impulse and moods. 

It is not surprising that Chateaubriand, with such a character and 
so crude a sense of discipline, should have been content with the sentiment 
of religion and should not seek its reality in the will. He was a great 
sentimentalist, a great psychic. Because he was unable to find the present 
reality of religion, he looked for its realization in a vague future. And 
like many other religious sentimentalists, he thought that postponed 
reality would be a kind of socialistic state. Chateaubriand's words seem 
much like those of some present day pacifist preachers. "The principles 
of Christianity", Chateaubriand wrote, "are the future of the world. 
Far from having reached its final term, the religion of the Great 
Deliverer has scarcely entered its third or political period. Christianity, 
so stable in its dogmas, is ever changeful in its lights : its transformation 
includes the transformation of all things. When it shall have attained 
its highest point, the darkness will be entirely cleared away; liberty, 
crucified on Calvary with the Messiah, will thence descend with Him; 
and she will restore to the Nations that New Testament which was 
written in their favour, and which has hitherto been fettered in its 
operation." 

A French Dominican who has written the life of Lacordaire counts 
it a merit that Lacordaire should have discovered in early life this social 
aspect of religion which Chateaubriand, the man of the world, came to 
believe after a long experience. It was to the "social evidence of 
Christianity", that Lacordaire attributed the restoration of his faith 
which he lost during his academic days. He had gone to Paris for law 
studies. He found himself a waif in an indifferent world. It would be 
easy to understand his conversion, if it followed the usual course of 
conviction of sin, and contrition. But it seems to lack the personal side, 
the feeling of guilt, of shame, of mercy and forgiveness by a living 
Friend; it lacks a sense of the Master. Instead of a living Master, we 
find in Lacordaire's thoughts some vague notions about the social order. 
"If I seek in my memory for the logical causes of my conversion, I can 
find no others than the historic and social evidence of Christianity. . . . 
I have reached Catholic belief through social belief ; and nothing appears 
to me better demonstrated than this argument: Society is necessary, 
therefore the Christian religion is divine ; for it is the means of bringing 
society to its true perfection, adapting itself to man, with all his weak- 
nesses, and to the social order in all its conditions." He wrote to a 
friend : "Many think it unaccountable that I should have been led back 



156 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

to religious ideas by means of political ideas. The further I advance, 
the more natural does this, however, seem to me." 

This conversion meant much to Lacordaire a critical point of life 
safely turned. But if one recalls similar periods in other lives, Ignatius 
Loyola, for example, or Bunyan, or George Fox, one must inevitably 
conclude that Lacordaire's conversion was of the exoteric type. In a 
way it suggests Newman's. One can recall, perhaps, how one followed 
Newman's interesting narrative in the Apologia, without finally receiving 
any impression of the Living Presence that gives all their significance 
to the liturgy, ceremonies and traditions of the Church. 

The democratic future of the Church! that might be taken as 
Lacordaire's central thought from this youthful period until his death, 
Sainte-Beuve points out that the Catholic Church, in France, especially, 
had always been connected with a definite political philosophy, namely 
a monarchical form of government the Church had been an expositor 
and defender of royalist ideas, supporting the justice of the political 
hierarchy upon the basis of the celestial gradations. Lacordaire was 
almost the first to break with that traditional political creed of the 
Church, and to throw himself headlong into the cause of democracy, 
which he identified with Christianity. He considered his views and aims 
by no means peculiar to himself but as given to him by his milieu: "the 
child of an age which scarce knows how to obey, the love of independence 
had all my life been my nurse and guide" he spoke those words about 
himself on his deathbed. 

He was ordained priest in 1827. Shortly afterward, discouraged by 
the politico-religious outlook in France, he was in consultation with an 
American bishop, with a view of choosing the free "republic of Wash- 
ington" as his field of labour. He made his choice ; but before he could 
put it into execution, an opportunity opened to work for "independence" 
in France. He threw himself heart and soul into that chance. 

This opportunity was the publication of an ecclesiastical periodical 
called I'Avenir (The Future). The purpose of the paper was to secure 
the independence of the French Church and clergy from the limitations 
placed upon them by the State the State had usurped ecclesiastical 
prerogatives. (Those who are interested in comparative history, litera- 
ture, etc., may care to be reminded, that, just at this period in England, 
certain parliamentary measures were being debated about the status of 
the Anglican and Roman Churches in Ireland. That debate was the 
immediate spark which started the Tractarian movement and led finally 
to Newman's change of church). The periodical was fathered by a 
priest, Monsieur de la Mennais, a man of parts and of some magnetism, 
who had associated with himself at his home in Brittany, a band of 
co-workers and disciples. Lacordaire, and another enthusiastic young 
Catholic, the Count de Montalembert, (the distinguished author of the 
book, Monks of the West, which has been of influence in reviving 
monastic traditions and ideals in our period) became the ablest co-editors 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 157 

with Monsieur de la Mennais. If one reads opinions of the paper, VAvenir, 
expressed by friends of Lacordaire and Montalembert, one finds the 
sincerity and disinterestedness of the editors not questioned; but, with 
that concession, the paper is described as "incendiary, haughty, arrogant, 
impatient, indiscreet, radical." "Tactless" explains the attitude of the 
editors. They wished immediate results ; to gain them, they made direct 
frontal attacks which antagonized and stiffened their adversaries. And 
like many another Radical, they lashed out, not only for their own 
object, but loosed general denunciations upon extraneous matters that 
very slightly touched their cause. 

The fate of such an eccentricity as VAvemr was not long doubtful. 
The periodical made its appearance in 1830. Shortly after, in pursuance 
of their principles, the editors came into collision with the civil authorities, 
and there was a public trial in the law courts. Anticipating trouble 
from Rome, Lacordaire proposed that they go thither, and take the bull 
by his horns. The three leaders (de la Mennais, Montalembert and 
Lacordaire) arrived in Rome at the end of 1831. They found the bull's 
horns very slippery, more like the traditional duck's back from which 
they rolled as water drops. There were audiences at the Vatican 
everything was polite, but nothing happened. And after waiting 
around for four months, Lacordaire returned to France, convinced by 
the visit that it would be impossible, during his lifetime, to establish a 
real republic in France or in any other European country, convinced also 
that it would be madness and sin to collide with the ecclesiastical 
authorities. A few months later the Pope prohibited any further publica- 
tions of I'Avenir. This news reached the three friends, as by some 
coincidence, they were (independently) each in Munich. Lacordaire 
and Montalembert accepted with complete sincerity the orders from 
above. De la Mennais accepted the decree with resentment which 
shortly led to a rupture with the Church. Lacordaire, perceiving the 
rebellion in his chief's heart, at once severed their connection. 

Although this episode terminated without discredit to Lacordaire, he 
was for years followed by the suspicions which it inevitably suggested. 
He had, of his own accord, ended the connection with Monsieur de la 
Mennais but there remained in all minds the remembrance that he had 
been a friendly associate and co-worker with that excommunicated priest. 
Such is the result of "the appearance of evil." Many of Lacordaire's 
dearest plans, later in his life, were checked and long postponed, as much 
on account of that connection, as on account of his general rashness. 

Lacordaire's brilliant career as preacher began about two years 
after the affair of the journal. He was invited to give some addresses 
in one of the Paris seminaries. In the world of the seminary and of 
theology, Lacordaire repeated Victor Hugo's experience at the theatre 
with Herncmi. Lacordaire broke completely with the established tradi- 
tions of oratory. The older compositions of the 17th and 18th centuries 
are logical and are methodically developed Lacordaire's arguments were 



158 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

often weak, and his line of thought not sequential. But very often the 
traditional orators put one asleep, whereas Lacordaire (in the words of 
Sainte-Beuve) "etonne, il conquiert; il a du clairon dans la voix et 
1'eclair du glaive brille dans sa parole." Sainte-Beuve was a close student 
of the intellectual movement in his century; he declares that Lacordaire 
was successful because he was steeped in the sentimental Christianity 
of Chateaubriand Lacordaire spoke to young men who had drawn in 
with their breath Rene's "tristesse sans cause"; he spoke to them of 
their own ideals of political freedom, making these heard in that most 
unaccustomed place, the pulpit. * 

The result of the orator's unusual style and method, and the response 
it drew from his audience was the suspension of the addresses. 
Lacordaire was reported as unsafe. The suspension was a very 
temporary check, however. The Archbishop of Paris, investigating the 
charges against the young orator, decided to transfer him from the 
seminary to Notre Dame to give him the Cathedral pulpit. This was 
in 1835. The challenge of the opportunity drew out Lacordaire's powers. 
He had a triumph and of a kind that led up to his entrance into the 
legislative hall of his nation, and into its literary Academy. But that 
was fifteen years later. The following page from the Memoirs describes 
the first sermon in Notre Dame: 

"The day having come, Notre Dame was filled with a multitude such 
as had never before been seen within its walls. The liberal and the absolutist 
youth of Paris, friends and enemies, and that curious crowd which a 
great capital has always ready for anything new, had all flocked together, 
and were packed in dense masses within the old cathedral. I mounted 
the pulpit firmly, but not without emotion, and began my discourse with 
my eye fixed on the archbishop, who, after God, but before the public, 
was to me the first personage in the scene. He listened with his head a 
little bent down, in a state of absolute impassibility, like a man who was 
not a mere spectator, nor even a judge, but rather as one who ran a 
personal risk by the experiment. I soon felt at home with my subject 
and my audience, and as my breast swelled under the necessity of grasp- 
ing that vast assembly of men, and the calm of the first opening sentences 
began to give place to the inspiration of the orator, one of those 
exclamations escaped from me, which, when deep and heartfelt, never 
fail to move. The archbishop was visibly moved. I watched his counte- 
nance change as he raised his head and cast on me a glance of astonish- 
ment. I saw that the battle was gained in his mind, and was so already 
in that of the audience. Having returned home, he announced that he 
was going to appoint me Honorary Canon of the cathedral ; and they had 
some difficulty in inducing him to wait until the end of the station." 

"Here is a specimen of an unfavorable criticism written at the time: "The sermons of the 
Abbe Lacordaire rightly understood, may be reduced to newspaper articles. They constitute 
the most perfect degradation of preaching, the most complete anarchy, we will not say of 
theological, but simply of philosophical, thought." 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 159 

Two years of brilliant preaching followed. In 1836, without any 
apparent reason, Lacordaire left Notre Dame, and went to Rome. His 
own reason for this step was the occupation of his mind with thought 
about the religious Orders. He was thirty-four years old. He was with- 
out ecclesiastical ties. Though a brilliant and successful orator, the only 
path of permanent duty that opened to him through his Bishop was that of 
a parish. This did not attract him. As he viewed the state of the Church, 
especially in France, where he had been rather noisily fighting for her 
rights, it seemed to him she had lost half her strength when the religious 
Orders were abolished. The conviction grew in his mind, "that the 
greatest service which could be rendered to Christendom in our time 
would be to do something for the restoration of the religious Orders." 
Two years were given to pondering this need, his own vocation, and the 
Order in which he would fit. Two, chiefly, occupied his attention, the 
Jesuit and the Dominican. The form of the Jesuit Order seemed to him 
an absolute monarchy; the Dominican suited better his love of inde- 
pendence. The Jesuit Order was already tolerated in France the 
Dominican was not represented. And the Dominican, the Order of 
Preachers, seemed the place for an eloquent and successful preacher. 
"If we are asked why we have chosen the Order of Preachers in prefer- 
ence to any other, we reply, because it best suits our nature, our mind, and 
our aim : our nature, by its government ; our mind, by its teaching ; and 
our aim, by its means of action, which are principally preaching and 
sacred science. . . . We may perhaps be asked, furthermore, why 
we have preferred reviving an ancient Order to founding a new one. 
. We feel sure that after much reflection we could find nothing 
newer, nothing better adapted to our own time and our own wants, than 
the rule of St. Dominic. It has nothing ancient about it but its history, 
and we do not see any necessity of torturing our minds for the simple 
pleasure of dating from yesterday." 

The sentences just quoted are from a program of 1839 in which 
Lacordaire set forth his purpose. He had two objects to accomplish by 
that program. One was to take public opinion by the horns an out- 
spoken declaration of his intentions in advance of any act; and the 
second was to draw together a company of postulants. To obtain his 
first object, public opinion, he appealed to the liberty (license?) loving 
minds of his countrymen. They would grant an open road, he declared, 
to a man in any direction, save in that of religious convictions. There, 
prejudice sat entrenched. He pleaded for religious liberty. His 
eloquence drew four or five companions to him, and with these he started 
the novitiate. 

Many disappointments were before him. In his enthusiasm, 
Lacordaire had arranged with the authorities in Rome that the French 
Postulants should be given a monastery to themselves for the period of 
probation. Lacordaire thought that this seclusion would fan the flames 
of their ardor for restoration in France. Afterwards, the authorities 



160 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

decided that such isolation might cut the new probationers off from the 
life current of the Order; they were accordingly sent to reside in a 
large Italian rural monastery. Here, Lacordaire and his first adherent 
took their vows, in April, 1840; a few months later, that first comrade, 
Requedat by name, died. The next year, the second Postulant, an 
architect, by name Piel, also died. Shortly after taking his vows, 
Lacordaire made a brief visit to Paris for preaching. He preached at 
Notre Dame, in his habit. It was a spectacular occasion, but his brilliance 
won the occasion, and he returned to Rome with a new company of 
candidates. On fire with his one ambition of restoring the Order in 
France, Lacordaire again arranged a secluded retreat for his associates 
who now numbered seventeen. Calumny, based upon the old connection 
with I'Avenir, thwarted this plan. The seventeen Frenchmen were 
separated, and placed in Italian monasteries; Lacordaire remained alone 
in Rome, under a cloud of suspicion. By accepting, without protest, 
the will of his superiors, Lacordaire overcame their distrust! 

His ambition had its first stage of realization in 1843. He had been 
preaching for several months at Nancy. He opened his heart to a 
sympathetic auditor, who purchased for him a house large enough to 
accommodate five or six men. Lacordaire sent to Italy for one of his 
brethren. "An altar was put up in one room; and on the Feast of 
Pentecost, 1843, I took possession. Everything was as poor and modest 
as possible; but reflecting that for fifty years we had not had so much 
as a foot of ground in France, nor a roof over our heads to shelter us, 
I felt an indescribable happiness." 

An improvised dwelling house was good enough as a beginning. But 
it could not satisfy a mind filled with visions of the past which he wished 
to project as realities into the present it was only by courtesy that such 
a house could be called a monastic centre. A year later, however, a 
great stride was made. Lacordaire found, near Grenoble, a dilapidated 
and abandoned monastery that could be purchased. Some of the civil 
authorities made slight protests when the purpose of the prospective 
purchase became known. But there was no real opposition. This settle- 
ment, at Chalais, was the first real centre of the Order in France; it 
made possible the reunion of all the French members and postulants who 
were in Italian houses. It won recognition of Lacordaire's successful 
work from the heads of the Order. He had lived down the distrust and 
suspicion caused by rash judgment and impetuosity. 

In his Memoirs, Lacordaire has described this home of the restored 
Order and the memorable day of their installation. It is a beautiful 
passage, in which Lacordaire shows at his best. His wonderful enthu- 
siasm and devotion, his power of kindling others to a cause, shine out, 
without any of the spectacular elements which often detract. 

"About the same time that St. Bruno was raising the great 
Chartreuse in the midst of savage mountains, separated from the Alps 
by the course of the Isere, a few monks of the Order of St. Benedict 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 161 

wished to establish in the same neighborhood a reformed branch of their 
Order, which had, however, neither great celebrity nor long duration. 
Instead of concealing themselves in the most inaccessible part of the 
desert, they chose a level plain looking towards the south, of a sunny 
aspect, surrounded by rocks, meadows, and forests, whence, through two 
large hollows, the eye beholds on one side the valley of Graisivaudan, 
and on the other the broad plain where the waters of the Saone and the 
Rhone flow round the city of Lyons. In this beautiful solitude they 
built a convent, to which they gave the name of Chalais, whence they 
themselves were called Chalaisians. After remaining there about two 
centuries, they gave it up to the monks of the Great Chartreuse, who 
made use of it as a warmer residence for some of their old religious who 
were no longer equal to the austerity of St. Bruno's cloisters. At the 
time of the Revolution, the lands were separated from the rest of the 
patrimony of the Great Chartreuse, and sold in the name of the nation. 
I bought the property after obtaining the consent of the bishop of the 
diocese, Mgr. Philibert de Bruillard, an old man, (eighty-two) who, in 
spite of his great age, hesitated not to expose himself on our account to 
a struggle with the government. The contract was signed with the utmost 
secrecy. No preparations were made for taking possession, for fear of 
awakening public attention, and attracting the notice of the Prefect. I 
still remember the day when, having met some of our young religious, 
whom I had sent for from Bosco, in a country house outside the gates 
of Grenoble, we set out together to that dear mountain of Chalais. The 
carriage set us down at the foot of the mountain, at the side of the high 
road ; and it took us a walk of three hours to climb the rocks and winding 
paths from thence to the house. We arrived about sunset, exhausted 
with fatigue, without provisions, or furniture, or utensils of any kind, 
each one having only his Breviary under his arm. Happily, however, 
the farmers had not yet gone out of the place, and we had reckoned on 
their assistance. They made us a great fire, and we sat down gaily to 
dine off some soup and a dish of potatoes. That night we slept soundly 
on a little straw and rising next morning at daybreak, were able to 
admire the magnificent retreat which God had given us. The house was 
poor enough ; the church, with its massive walls of the middle ages, was 
now nothing better than a hayloft; but what majesty there was in the 
aspect of those woods! What sublimity in those rocks that rose above 
our heads ! What a magical charm in those plains and meadows which 
stretched all around us with their verdure and their flowers! Some 
long alleys, shaded by trees of unequal size, led to all sorts of hidden 
spots along the brinks of precipices, by the side of torrents, under 
thickets of fir and beeches, through younger plantations, and at last to 
the mountain summits which crowned these enchanted regions. It took 
some time to repair the house and set it in proper order; but all priva- 
tions were sweet to us in the midst of that beautiful scenery, which had 
been marked for seven centuries by the grace of God, and where the 

11 



162 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

ruins of a few years had not effaced the perfume of religious antiquity. 
The old bell of the Benedictines and the Carthusians still hung on its 
beam, covered over with fir planks ; and the clock which had chimed the 
hours of prayer for them, called us, in our turn, to the same duty. 

"It soon became known that the desert of Chalais had blossomed 
again under the hand of God. Guests came to us from all parts; and 
that which a while before had only been the dwelling of foresters and 
woodcutters, became a favorite pilgrimage for devout souls. In the 
evening we sang the Salve Regina in the half-restored chapel, according 
to the custom of the Order; and it was an inexpressible joy to hear on 
those hills, in the midst of the murmurs of the mountain winds, the 
psalmody which seems to carry up to the angels the echo of their own 
voices." 

Lacordaire continued active work many years after this establish- 
ment at Chalais. Yet the furtherance of the Dominican Order centres 
from that date, 1845, around another Frenchman, rather than around 
Lacordaire. Lacordaire was a pioneer. He had the daring and the 
vigor of a pioneer. He accomplished other noteworthy things for the 
Dominicans in France. But a man of altogether different mould soon 
became the guiding spirit of the Order. This man is Jandel. Jandel's 
work in no sense belittles Lacordaire's it magnifies it it is the most 
convincing testimony to the real value of what Lacordaire had done. 
What happened is this: The vigor and fervour of the recent French 
establishment drew the attention of those in Rome. They judged the 
moment apt for a renovation of the entire Order, which, like others, had 
become decrepit. For the instrument of renovation they looked into the 
little French colony, and chose the man into whose hands Lacordaire 
had made over the direction of the monastery at Chalais. In 1850, the 
Pope, intervening in the management of the Dominicans, appointed 
Jandel Vicar of the Order. The Pope's choice was confirmed by subse- 
quent elections and reelections and Jandel was the Master-General until 
his death in 1872. 

Jandel, a secular priest, had been won by Lacordaire's preaching at 
Nancy. He was one of the first comrades whom Lacordaire took into 
Italy for the novitiate. He was the first one Lacordaire brought back 
for the modest little work at Nancy. When Lacordaire took possession 
of Chalais, as described above, he asked that Jandel might be the first 
Prior. What Jandel accomplished was to turn back into the parent stem, 
the enthusiasm and fervour of the new French offshoot. By that current 
of new life the venerable but decrepit houses of the Order were roused 
to new vigor in old observances. 

In speaking of Jandel, Lacordaire had said: "He is the man for 
inside I am for the outside." Lacordaire was a pioneer, vigorous, daring, 
even rash. Jandel consolidated the work of the pioneer, he deepened it. 
The Dominican Order is proud of a record of seven unbroken centuries. 
Unlike the Benedictine and other Orders, the Dominican has never been 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS 163 

reformed from the outside. History shows that such reformations have 
usually ended in a new small Order. The Dominican, on the other hand, 
has always reformed itself, and has continued unbroken its connection 
with its Founder. Jandel felt that St. Dominic wished to combine a life 
of monastic observance with a life of reverent study, the result of the 
combination being spiritual knowledge that should lead to Union. He 
found, on assuming the responsibility of Master-General, that the mem- 
bers of the Order were infected with the intellectualism of the world; 
they were reluctant to adhere to the old rule about monastic observance ; 
they felt that the canonical services hindered the prosecution of studies 
and that studies were of prime importance. Jandel placed himself 
immovably against this secular tendency, and, in letter after letter, 
insisted upon adherence to St. Dominic's rule. It is the soul that under- 
stands, he reiterated, not the mind. Moral and spiritual discipline must 
antedate and underlie intellectual effort. "The necessity of this was well 
understood by the most serious of the old schools of philosophy, that 
of Pythagoras; for it enjoined upon those who wished to follow its 
course long silence and an austere life, in order to re-conquer for the 
soul its proper dominion, and to favour the acquirement of wisdom." 
The aim of the Order is Knowledge, but Knowledge that leads to Union. 
"Our Constitutions", Jandel wrote in one official communication, "have 
combined observance (i. e. the monastic schedule) and study, because 
their chief aim is to form religious before all things, religious full of the 
spirit of the interior life, and not dominated by a human desire for 
knowledge. In spite of this, and even supposing the best intentions, we 
see many students, a few months after leaving the Simple Novitiate, lose 
all religious fervour in their unregulated thirst for study. They allow 
themselves to be carried away by the pleasant excitement of the active 
life, which swiftly takes possession of them, and seizes for itself that 
throne which belongs by right to the interior spirit. 

"Of the five motives for study given by St. Bernard, namely, 
curiosity, avarice, vanity, the edification of others, and the sanctification 
of oneself, the last two alone are justifiable in a religious ; and this zeal 
for one's own soul and the souls of others is always in proportion to the 
interior spirit and love of holiness, the fruits of strict observance of rule." 

The question has often been asked: Why is the apparent field of 
action of the Theosophical movement so very limited, England, America, 
Scandinavia, and scattered branches elsewhere? Why has it effected no 
entrance into France, for example ? The present writer is in no position 
to answer these questions. But, in view of what might seem a failure 
on the part of France to respond to the Movement, it is a satisfaction to 
point out correspondence between a man like Jandel, and so esoteric a 
writing as The Voice of the Silence. In the second Fragment of that 
book, the difference is pointed out between Head-learning and Soul- 
wisdom, the "Eye" and the "Heart" doctrine respectively. "Even 
ignorance", it is there written, "is better than Head-learning with no 



164 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Soul-wisdom to illuminate and guide it." Jandel writes less pointedly, 
but with a similar conviction : "Understanding of the things of God and 
purity of heart become one and the same thing, so that in practice one 
may say it is the heart which understands God, or rather that the intellect 
understands Him only in so far as the Heart loves and serves Him. 
From this truth, that it is the heart which understands, arises the neces- 
sity, in order to make fruitful study possible, of subjecting the whole 
body to the heart, and of perfecting the will. See how the Saints, those 
men who were heroic in their mortification and purity of heart, have 
thrown light on theology, and have elucidated more questions than have 
others even with the keenest intellects. On the other hand, see how the 
great geniuses of pagan antiquity succeeded in discovering so few truths, 
especially in the moral order, although many of them had greater knowl- 
edge than the Fathers of the Church. See why so many priests and 
religious do not come to a real understanding of the Holy Scriptures, 
for to understand them thoroughly it is necessary to relish them. Thus 
we see that the most brilliant geniuses in theology were conspicuous for 
purity of heart for example, St. John, St. Gregory Nazianzen, and 
St. Thomas. When the last-named found himself faced with some 
difficulty, he would have recourse to fasting, or would prolong his prayer 
after the midnight matins.. The reason is clear : God is truth; and it is 
by detachment from self, and by drawing near to God in silence, penance, 
and humility, that truth is to be found." 

Jandel survived Lacordaire many years. Two spectacular events in 
Lacordaire's life should be noted. France changed its form of govern- 
ment again in 1848, forming another republic. Lacordaire had a vague 
dream of a Christian republic; he wished to apply Christianity to 
politics. With some friends, he started a journal with a motto "Religion, 
the Republic and Liberty." It seemed likely that so popular a preacher 
as Lacordaire might be asked to represent certain constituents. He was 
urged by friends to put aside his personal unwillingness to mingle in 
political matters for the sake of the benefits that would come to the 
Church from an ardent advocacy of its political rights. He presented 
himself before voters in two sections of Paris. He was proposed also 
at Toulon and at Marseilles, where he had preached. He was not elected 
in Paris, but the Marseilles votes were in his favour. In his monastic 
habit he took his seat in the legislative body of his country, amid an 
ovation. But the strange combination was of short duration. In a fort- 
night he resigned. The reason given his constituents was : he had wished 
to act with impartiality, not with party passions. But the effort to 
maintain such impartiality could result only in isolation and ineffective- 
ness. His duty then became to give up his false position and return to 
his religious life. 

In 1854, for a similar reason, (though one must believe that the old 
desire for the sensational and spectacular was not absent) namely, the 
benefit the Church would reap, he accepted a place in the French 



165 

Academy. He looked upon this high honour as a tribute to his life-long 
endeavour to reconcile "his age, his country, science and liberty with the 
Catholic Faith." But that was almost his last public appearance. The 
following eight years, until his death in 1861, were spent in a school of 
the Order. Here Lacordaire instituted a new degree among the 
Dominicans, namely, what is known as the Teaching Order, or Third 
Order (degree would be a better word) of Teachers. Lacordaire felt 
the need for religious schools in France ; the effort to supply such schools 
created a need for teachers. The professed members of the Order were 
insufficient in number to supply that need; and preaching, not teaching, 
was the sphere of their activity. But Lacordaire was not willing either 
to abandon the schools or to equip them with teachers unattached to the 
Order. He therefore provided this new degree, within the flexible 
Dominican system, by which men and women, under religious discipline 
would be able to give to the youth of the land an education less false 
and unreal than what prevails in secular schools and colleges. 

This new degree established within the Order completed Lacordaire's 
work. He died in 1861, worn out by his strenuous efforts. He was a 
good man, magnetic and amiable. His ardor and brilliance have made 
him a model greatly admired by young Dominicans. This is disad- 
vantageous. Lacordaire is an "outside" man ; from his life one gets little 
feeling of an interior. His influence, as the vivifier of the Order in our 
time, accentuates the tendency of the Dominicans to let secular 
intellectualism replace the knowledge which is a fruit of devotion. 

The Dominicans in the United States date from colonial days, from 
the Roman Catholic colony of Maryland. A Catholic family, Fenwick 
by name, wished to give their children a religious education. Carroll, 
the first Bishop of Baltimore, recommended one of the Belgian colleges, 
that had become an English centre, after the expulsion of the Order 
from England. About 1700 the Fenwick's son was sent there, and his 
sister, at the same time, entered the school of a Dominican Convent in 
Belgium. Both took the Dominican vows, as did also collaterals of 
the family. Young Fenwick and his relatives returned to Maryland in 
1710 and asked the Bishop's permission to introduce the Order. The 
Bishop, feeling that the place and time were not fit, sent Fenwick to 
Kentucky, to get him out of the way. The first shelter of the Order is 
still a house for novices. A second house was established later, in Ohio, 
at a spot where Fenwick was given lodging for the night, in a journey 
from Kentucky back to Maryland. Finally, the Order reached New York 
City. When the Catholic University was founded in Washington, D. C, 
the Dominicans, like many of the other Orders in America, wished to 
take advantage, for its students, of the opportunities offered by a 
Catholic Faculty and Curriculum that was not dependent for support 
upon the resources of the Order. The Headquarters of the Order (in 
America) is quite near the University ; it houses about one hundred 



166 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

members. This House of Studies, as it is called, continues the tradition 
of its double origin, English and Belgian. The good taste of the Gothic 
building and Chapel recalls some of the English Chapels. The pleasant 
manner of the young monks suggests that of English college boys. It is 
a community of young men, and men of a better grade than is usually 
represented in Catholic priests, cleaner and more intelligent 

The Dominicans labor under the same disadvantages in America as 
do the other Orders. Bishops are not cordial ; the Bishops need secular 
priests for parish work, and though, in theory, they revere the Orders, 
in practice they begrudge the young men whom the Orders withdraw. 
The Dominicans have been able to get a foothold in the various dioceses, 
only by volunteering for parish work, and for parish work of a seeming 
hopeless kind. When a parish has gone to pieces and is deep in debt, 
rather than abandon it the Bishop will sometimes turn it over to an Order. 
For the sake of a foothold the Dominicans have courageously undertaken 
just such hopeless wrecks, and have succeeded. The parish of St. Vincent 

Ferrer in New York City is one such example the Dominicans in 

charge have rescued the Parish, are just completing a new edifice at a 
cost of a million and half. For the same reason, expediency, the 
Dominicans are also founding schools and colleges. That is no part of 
their original work, and is not a task of their choice. But they do it as 
a necessary step for the gaming of recruits. Youths, left to the influence 
of secular priests would not discover a vocation, and the Order might 
be left without adherents. 

The future of the Catholic Orders in America, owing to their 
connection with a German Vatican, and their desire to win the American 
public, is a matter of conjecture. SPENCER MONTAGUE. 



"Patience is concerned in all that we have to resist, in all that we have 
to deny ourselves, in all that we have to endure, in all that we have to 
adhere to, in all that we have to do. Wherever patience fails, the act is 
weak, and the work imperfect." Archbishop Ullathorne. 



ALTARS 



WHEN a beautiful thing happens one instinctively turns to tell 
it to the friend who will understand, and what friend so sure 
to understand as the QUARTERLY? This is how the beautiful 
thing was told to me: "Some years ago, when spending the 
spring in Spain, we were appalled to find, when shown to our sitting 
room, that the family altar was its most conspicuous piece of furniture. 
It was not a beautiful altar, except as all altars are beautiful for what 
they struggle to express. This one was draped in horrid washed and 
starched cheap lace and trimmed with paper flowers and terrible little 
gew-gaws. Our first thought was one of terror. Did the family expect 
to file in here at all hours of the day and night? Had either of us the 
courage to suggest its removal? We soon found that our privacy was 
not to be invaded. The best room was naturally the place for the altar 
and there it stayed, but with grave Andalusian courtesy we were made 
its custodians. As we passed through the halls a few flowers would be 
given us to place there, while in Holy Week permission to make quite 
dazzling refurbishing was asked and granted. There was love as well as 
service. A faded ribbon presented to the little Spanish peasant who 
waited on us reappeared pinned in a fold of the lace, although we knew 
full well that it represented to her diamonds set in platinum ; and all sorts 
of queer little treasures were deposited there for a while, as though for 
some process of purification, and then taken away again ; but in a general 
way it was treated with easy Roman Catholic casualness, not as some- 
thing wonderful, but as something as familiar as food or warmth. The 
effect upon us, however, was not exactly casual. Day by day we lived 
with it, our meals were served within a yard of it ; callers all gasped and 
said "for Heaven's sake!" and then, if not closely watched, put their 
cups and saucers down on it. After our first shudder at its touching 
ugliness we gradually discovered that it was "for Heaven's sake" and 
grew to love it dearly, and the dream was born that some day in some 
less public fashion we would have an altar of our own. 

But dreaming in Spain is one thing and waking in New York 
another. We found space littered, as space is wont to be, with the 
accumulations of lifetimes, preempted by chairs and tables, and strewn 
with the wreckage of dead whims. We said, as we had said so many 
times before "where on earth did we get it all?" and then were quickly 
reduced to the usual subjection to "stuff." Then we began to make 
discoveries. The first was that an altar in the material sense of the word 
is not in the least a matter of necessity. An oratory is "a place of 
prayer" and every inch of home can be that, down to the kitchen sink, 
and every time the heart turns to the Master a shrine is built. Then 
for the special moments set aside for the ritual of prayer, with an open 



168 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

window and a great sky line you have an altar that might suffice the 
saints. In this way we were rich. Immediately in front of a large 
window, but pushed back two blocks by a group of blessed little one- 
storied tax-payers, that for some inscrutable reason the seething tide of 
the city northward washes round but never over (I rap on wood) stands 
a little old stone church, like a brown rock in an advancing ocean. Its 
small facade (the lower part is hidden by buildings) is made up of one 
gothic arch with a gilded cross above it, three niches in which stand (or 
stood) indistinguishable brown figures, and a rose window. It never 
seems to be lighted, but in the very early morning, even the most fierce 
and inclement of winter dawns, one may see people generally women 
hurrying to it. 

Then, suddenly, the beautiful thing happened! Someone came and 
cleaned the city grime from the life-sized figure in the central niche, and 
it was the White Christ! The Master, in His dear familiar attitude of 
patient waiting, of gentle invitation, of unquestioning readiness to be 
friends, looking straight this way (but we must turn), gleaming 
through the moonlight and radiant in the dawns a shrine in the 
wilderness. As of old, He stands surrounded by publicans and sinners, 
a gaudy invitation to drink a popular beer just above Him, an 
admonition not to miss the Revue of the Follies just below, the electric 
signs flashing their insistent appeals to the hedonists of the pavement 
beneath, " 'tis a stranger fair and kingly !" 

An oratory is a place where secrets are whispered it reveals one 
to oneself. Sometimes one may kneel there caught and bleeding in the 
barbed wire of one's own dark building, and know that once more He 
has been denied thrice, once more He has been betrayed with a kiss; 
and then again kneel there, and there is no such thing as barbed wire or 
any other barrier ; and the very air between seems filled with the beat of 
wings and the voices of angels; while through the beat of wings and 
clearer than the voices, comes the gentle murmur of His voice "thy sins 
are forgiven thee, go in peace", then "Lovest thou me?" Oh, gentle 
voice, that never bargains but ever asks love's old old question "Do you 
love Me?" And then once more, and more wonderful even than His 
words to us, those other words the incessant murmured prayer for us 
"that they may be one, even as we are one." 



"Above the roofs I see a cross outlined against the night 
And I know that there my Lover dwells in His sacramental night. 

Dominions kneel before Him and Powers kiss His feet, 

Yet for me He keeps His weary watch in the turmoil of the street : 

The King of Kings awaits me, wherever I may go, 

O who am I that He should deign to love and serve me so?" 

( Poem by Joyce Kilmer.) S . 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 



PART III 

SECTION II 

THERE is a marked tendency in our modern text-books and popu- 
lar modern histories, to idealize the ancient Germans, and to 
over-estimate both their civilization and their contribution to the 
development of Europe. They are almost without exception pic- 
tured as simple, upright, pure, and frank ; and though modern standards 
(at least before the War) shrink from their warrior-spirit and destruc- 
tiveness, yet they have been lauded even in this respect for their virility 
and courage. In the political order, most of our splendid democratic 
institutions and Anglo-Saxon ideals about the freedom and rights of the 
individual, are traced back in theory to the liberty and independence of 
these German conquerors of an autocratic, slave-holding Rome. Nor 
should we forget that the noble code of chivalry was first supposed to 
have been embodied in feudal German knights, who in their turn were 
a natural development from their high-minded, even if forest-roving, 
ancestors. 

So much, also, has been said about the "decay," the "decline and 
fall," of Roman civilization, that by contrast the Germans are generally 
thought to have been the saviours of Europe in the sense that they infused 
new, "young," unadulterated blood into diseased Roman veins. Even 
though their advent was destructive, therefore, it is conceived as having 
destroyed chiefly what was itself pernicious and "effete," rather than as 
having permanently devastated classical monuments. After all so runs 
the general conception when the Germans had settled down in their new 
quarters, the Renaissance revived classical antiquity, and Europe survived, 
doubly enriched. 

History read in this way is nothing more nor less than a huge and 
successful piece of German propaganda. It is comparatively modern, 
although amongst the most recent scholars of England and America there 
has been already some ridiculing of obvious German extravagance, and 
with this, a partial return to the sounder historical theories, which never, 
as a whole, admitted any such pro-German version. Nor will the present 
War permit this crude pro-Germanism to survive long. Together with 
other chimeras of German superlativeness, it must inevitably disappear. 

The reason is quite simple. The German hordes which over-ran 
Europe were literally and actually barbarians and savages, with none 
of the veneer which contact with their neighbors has given them today. 
Like all unspoiled savages, they had their crude virtues manly vigor, 
physical courage, persistence, and an absence of the excesses which 

169 



170 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

characterize overripe civilizations. But they were not cultured, they had 
no form of civilization which could compare with that which they over- 
threw; and they had certain faults and vices which set them apart from 
other bodies of people as of a particularly low and wcultured order. 

These same vices, which were theirs two thousand years ago, are 
theirs today. The whole world is learning to recognize them. They are 
qualities which are incompatible with civilization, culture, and higher 
evolution. The civilized world is an organized armed force, leagued to 
exterminate, if possible, the very existence of such excesses from amongst 
men. Rome, itself possessed of a civilization remarkably like our own in 
many fundamental respects, was unable so to unite against the common 
enemy, with the result that after centuries of struggle, she was over- 
thrown. Today the civilized world is again battling against the same 
peoples, holding avowedly the same ideals, and this time it is to be hoped 
that the civilized world will have done with them once and for all, and 
so preserve its culture intact for future generations. 

The most recent scholars, who are returning to the French school of 
historians on this question of the Germans, have done so because they 
have examined anew the actual facts and historical sources. They have 
not been completely blinded or prejudiced by German scholarship. Early 
in the 19th century this process of Germanizing history began. It took 
its start in the intellectual revival already referred to in connection with 
Baron von Stein's work. Discoveries of ancient German history, and of 
hitherto unknown manuscripts, both literary and historic, caused a thrill 
of pride to surge over Germany; and this, because of its very novelty, 
received a ready hearing in England, and later in America. Carlyle, 
Kingsley, Arnold, Freeman, and a host of others, lauded Germany and 
all things German. As Carlyle noted of the Germans in his essay on 
The Niebelungen Lied (written 1831, in his pristine days), they "now, 
in looking back, find that they too, as well as the Greeks, have their 
Heroic Age, and round the old Valhalla, as their Northern Pantheon, a 
world of demi-gods and wonders. . . . Learned professors lecture on the 
'Niebelungen' in public schools, with a praiseworthy view to initiate the 
German youth in love of their father-land ; from many zealous and nowise 
ignorant critics we hear talk of 'a great Northern Epos,' of a 'German 
Iliad'; the more saturnine are shamed to silence, or hollow mouth-hom- 
age. ... Of these curious transactions some rumor has not failed to 
reach us in England, where our minds, from their own antiquarian dispo- 
sition, were willing enough to receive it." It is noteworthy that whereas 
Carlyle's occasional myopia compares this lurid, depressing, evil-haunted 
poem to Tasso's Gerusalemme, he nowhere, in the whole essay, even refers 
to the French Chanson de Roland, its literary contemporary, which, in 
spirit and content, is characteristically almost its antithesis. 

When this new enthusiasm had fairly gotten under way in Germany, 
the industry and indefatigable zeal of her scholars soon produced an enor- 
mous and astonishing mass of material, which for its very bulk alone 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 171 

held the world's attention. 1 German Biblical criticism, German philoso- 
phy, German literature, German music, German theories of art, govern- 
ment, and history, were studied and imbibed almost wholesale by the 
impressionable minds of our young students, who were unable to distin- 
guish between knowledge and wisdom, between many facts and little 
insight, between apparently logical conclusions and mature judgment, 
between sentimental dreams and a cultivated taste. The result was that 
German canons were accepted, German theories assimilated, and Ger- 
many's limitations made our own. 

War has brought an awakening, but the changing of trends of thought 
is no light or easy accomplishment. We no longer revere the modern 
German; we fail as yet properly to estimate the historic German. We 
have been educated on German-prepared pabulum, and we have the taste 
in our mouth. 

To make this point clear, it will be well to review a few standard or 
typical examples of the way the ancient Germans are pictured in the 
modern German brain, and to parallel these with certain of their English 
and American reproductions. If these are then set side by side with the 
actual historic documentary sources, as now known to us, the reader will 
be in possession of the facts, and will be able to discover the fiction which 
German vanity has succeeded in imposing on the world. 

Here is a resume, from the sixteenth edition of a German school text- 
book, widely used, written by the learned Dr. David Mtiller, reedited in 
1902 by Dr. Rudolf Lange, of the Friedrichs-Werderschen gymnasium 
on the supernaturally civilizing effect of these ancient German forefathers. 
"In History, however, it was the Germans who stepped into the places 
of the decadent races, not merely as destroyers of the Ancients, but as 
specially called, and enabled to undertake all those things which remain 
of their eternal inheritance, in accordance with God's own council of per- 
fection [literally, closed-plan]. And this not only now in the region of 
Mid-History [as distinguished from ancient, i. e., before German inva- 
sions], but also as guided forward into the fulness of the future and to 
the very end of time." 2 

Wolfgang Menzel, perhaps one of the most successful of the so-called 
"patriotic" school of popular German historians, who, as Myers' Konver- 
sations-Lexicon says, wrote for the general public and for school-children, 
will not admit more than that German faults sprang from notable German 
virtues, and must therefore be excused. Speaking of, and explaining, the 
"division of the Germans into separate tribes," he says: "The reason 
obviously lies in the national character, which, of too expansive a nature 



1 These qualities of zeal, patience, industry, and imitation are admirable and praiseworthy 
in the abstract. Unfortunately the use which Germany and the Germans have made of them 
will undoubtedly lower them in the estimation of mankind for long years to come. And con- 
trast French with German scholarship, even under these heads. Few people know the laborious 
training undergone by French scholars and artists; and what German historian has outdone 
Fustel de Coulange or Duruy, or even Guizot, in industry and patient exploration of detail? 

* Alte Geschichte: fur die Aufgangsstttfe des historischen Unterrichts, p. 157. 



172 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

ever to be uniform, displays an infinite variety of striking peculiarities, 
differing according to the natural bias of the individual ; hence, in ancient 
times, the unalterable love of freedom, and the wild chivalric spirit which 
animated our forefathers, who, equally independent and regardless of 
their native country, achieved single-handed the most daring exploits; 
hence, in our times, the extraordinary variety of talented individuals 
engaged in intellectual warfare as zealously as the German in times of 
yore in bodily combat. The consciousness of great physical strength pro- 
duced a spirit of independence and a naive indifference to danger, which 
struck the Romans with astonishment, and which, by inducing a blind 
reliance on their own strength, caused the Teutons to weaken themselves 
by internal feuds, or with listless apathy to view each other's destruction. 
None pitied the vanquished. If nine-tenths fell, the tenth was confident 
of gaining success by the prowess of his single arm. The greater the 
slaughter of his brethren by the enemy, the fewer the competitors for 
glory, and so much the greater honour to the victor. Thus, instead of a 
neighbour being assisted as a friend, he was only regarded as a rival in 
heroic deeds; so that the action that would now be considered as the 
vilest perfidy, was deemed by our forefathers the height of chivalric 
virtue." * Thus speaks a German about the noble "chivalry" of his fore- 
bears, and in very truth he does not realize how completely he condemns 
himself and them. The "intellectual warfare" of the Germans has been 
the cause of even more destruction, if possible, than her ravages of yore ; 
but Menzel throws over both a vague, rosy glow of high purposes and 
noble sentiments, incidentally veiling much that would have discredited 
these forebears, even in the eyes of his compatriots. 

The illusions contained in this paragraph are repeated time without 
number by the popular writers of Germany. The fact that many of their 
ideas are mutually contradictory does not dampen the supreme German 
ardour in glorifying all things German. As indicated, school text-books 
supply a crescendo of similar strains, culminating in paeans about the 
present mighty Emperor and the present people of Germany. German 
children are actually taught that they are superior to any children on 
earth, that the German people are and always have been the superior race, 
and that everything good in other countries is due to the urdeutsch 
foundation of them all. 

To sustain this version of history, other races and peoples are pre- 
sented as inferior by the alleged ease with which Germans defeat them 
in battle, and other "well-recognized" marks of mediocrity. So Menzel 
first speaks depreciatingly of the early Romans, as ruled by "robber 
kings, on account of the depredations they committed against neighbouring 
nations." z "Strengthened by petty conquests," they drove out these kings 

1 Geschichte der Deutschen, Mrs. Horrock's translation of the 4th, German edition, Vol. I, 
pp. 7-8. This was issued in 1871. The 1st edition appeared in 1826. It was widely and con- 
tinuously read, no less than three editions being necessary in 1871-73. 

3 Op. cit. Pt. H, p. 61, and 62, 63, 74, etc. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 173 

and "founded a republic on the plan of the more ancient ones of Greece" 
from whom they imitated all their art and refinements. Coming early 
into contact with the mighty Germans, Rome was burned and sacked four 
centuries B. C. by the Senones and Boii. (These people were Celts, not 
Teutons but no matter!) The northern warriors degenerated in the 
luxurious climate (and through access to Italian wines), and one part was 
exterminated, while the other became "incorporated with the now aggran- 
dized republic." Presently the Cimbri and Teutones "crossed the Alps, 
and again threatened the Roman power with destruction; but when, in 
their proud contempt of Rome [note the chivalrous attitude], they again 
imprudently divided, they fell a prey to the sagacity and prodigious efforts 
of the Romans, etc. . . . ' Thus Rome a second time owed the increase 
of her power to German influence, that is, piercing the veils of rhetoric, 
they gained strength by beating the Teutons. Truly the Romans were a 
happy and a fortunate aggregation of robbers. Incidentally the Cimbri 
were certainly Celtic-speaking, and most probably a branch of the same 
Celtic peoples whose descendants were known to Caesar as the Belgse. * 
The following account of Marius' "treacherous" defeat of the Teutons 
leaves the reader quite perplexed as to why the noble warrior Germans 
were beaten at all. We will quote the closing incident which, in view of 
subsequent discussion, should receive the reader's attention. The Cimbri, 
"traversed the narrow passes leading from the Tyrol into Italy, and 
viewed with delight the snow-capped mountains, which recalled to mind 
the winters of their northern home. Half naked and seated on their 
large shields, they slid down the glaciers . . ." [We wonder, did 
Menzel ever see a glacier!]. A fierce battle ensued, victorious for the 
Romans. "Bojorix fell sword in hand, with 90,000 of his followers. 
60,000 were taken prisoners, and numbers killed themselves in despair. 
The women, dressed in black, with their golden locks in disarray, long 
defended the waggons, and slew every Teuton who fled from the enemy. 
When all was lost, they killed their children, and then destroyed them- 
selves. The Romans even then did not gain possession of the booty 
without a third battle, with the dogs that guarded the baggage . 
The Cimbri and Teutones may thus be said to have conquered even in 
death, and although without the participation of the rest of the Germans, 
and on foreign soil, not to have fallen in vain for their country 
(Vaterland)." 

Perhaps the reader does not realize that such disingenuous versions 
of history are not merely the daily food of German school-children, and 
of the casual German reader, but that they are specifically taught that all 
other versions of history are false and actively motived by hatred and 
envy of Germans. They are of a piece with the deceptions and propa- 
ganda with which the whole world has become familiar; but which 
nevertheless still delude many students just because there is a learned 

1 Cf. among others, M. Grant, Tht Passing of the Great Race, pp. 174, 5, and 6, and 
Jtillian, op cit. etc. 



174 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

and ponderous air about these self -accredited and degree-bespangled 
tomes. The Germans are childish in their credulity, just as they are 
childish in their desire to magnify all things German (even German- 
owned dogs), and to see in ancient, primitive Germans the very same 
virtues and characteristics which they ascribe to themselves today. That 
the Alsatian historians and writers have never displayed any such desire 
is an evidence, and no slight evidence, of their complete unlikeness where 
this German acquisitiveness and complacency are concerned. 

But modern scholarship in America and England has not been 
emancipated, and times without number German lies and German propa- 
ganda under the guise of science have been solemnly received and weightily 
discussed and approved. Even in these War times, the habits of thought 
engendered before the War still echo in our minds, as witness so excellent 
an article by Dr. Louis H. Gray "Prussian Frightfulness and the 
Savage Mind." * He grasps clearly and precisely the essential limitation 
of the mental caliber and civilization of the German people, finding an 
exact parallel between their present processes of thought and action and 
those characteristic of all primitive savages. "Primitive man is wholly 
unable to conceive of differences of mental type; his very gods 
are but huge projections of himself, differing only in magnitude, not in 
kind. Moreover, his tribe are the only human beings who are really 
'men'; all other people are far beneath his exalted level, although 
according to the savage conception of the foreigner they may be very 
dangerous." But before analyzing and condemning modern Teutons, he 
is careful to distinguish between the modern hybrid Prussian whose 
dominance has corrupted the whole mass of the German people today 
and "the sterling virtues of the true Teuton within the German Empire 
. the real representatives of the ancient Germans, whom a 
Tacitus could portray as models for the decadent days of Rome. . 
Anglo-Saxon civilization is the heir of the spiritual and moral legacy of 
the Germany of olden days liberty and fair play, justice, honor, and 
purity; German civilization has become Prussian and is no longer 
German." 

Coming from the pen of Dr. Gray, such statements are significant 
of the extent to which American scholarship has been Germanized. 
Even whole-hearted patriotism, as in this case, is no protection against 
traditions which have come to be almost universally accepted. "Liberty 
and fair play, justice, honor, and purity" indeed! Such things are the 
possession of gentlemen. When have the Germans ever been gentlemen ? 
Certainly not the primitive barbarians who all but destroyed Greek and 
Roman civilization; these tribes were not even the gilded savages of 
today, who, as Dr. Gray says, are "Domineering to inferiors, servile to 
superiors; cruel to the foe, regardless of truth; contemptuous of honor, 
boastful of dominion; unscrupulous and crafty, yet stupid and narrow; 

1 Scribner's Magazine, March, 1918. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 175 

ignorant of fair play, whining when beaten; seeking too often with 
success by arrogance and intrigue to debauch the noble and the unsus- 
pecting in their own abyss of moral perversion; allies of the base and 
enemies of the upright; the vices of master and slave, with the virtues 
of neither," such are indeed the savages of today, and it is almost as 
true of the Germans of "olden days." 

Dr. Gray is not alone in his mirage, in his vision of plenitude where 
there is but barren desert. No less a man than Charles Kingsley could 
with a clear conscience deliver a series of lectures at the University of 
Cambridge in 1864, published under the title of The Roman And The 
Teuton, which reads as if inspired by Deutschtum itself. On page 
twelve he explains the defeat of the already eulogized Bojorix in these 
terms, "Because they were boys fighting against cunning men, Boiorich, 
the young Kemper, riding down to Marius' camp, to bid him fix the 
place and time of battle for the Teuton thought it mean to use surprises 
and strategems, or to conquer save in fair and open fight [ !] is the type 
of Teuton hero; and one which had no chance in a struggle with the 
cool, false, politic Roman, grown grey in the experience of the forum 
and of the camp, and still as physically brave as his young enemy. 
Because, too, there was no unity among them ; no feeling that they were 
brethren of one blood." I can find no historic foundation whatever for 
this rhetorical interpretation of German virtues. Nor is Kingsley quite 
convincing when he whitewashes Totilas "free from death"; . 
"A Teuton of the ancient stamp he was, just and merciful exceedingly". l 
He simply cannot picture the Hun's troops as so noble as their leader: 
"The Goths, as they go down, murder every Roman they meet", 2 and 
finally, after their defeat by the Roman Narses, "So perished, by their 
own sins, a noble nation ; and in perishing, destroyed utterly the Roman 
people." 3 Yet they are just and merciful exceedingly ! Truly Kultur 
has an insidious virus. "And why did these Goths perish, in spite of 
their valour and patriotism, at the hands of mercenaries? 

"They were enervated, no doubt, as the Vandals had been in Africa, 
by the luxurious southern climate with its gardens, palaces, and wines. 
[Was this a sign of virtue?] But I have indicated a stronger reason 
already: they perished because they were a slave-holding aristocracy." 

An aristocracy! Let us remember the word. One more quotation 
will suffice to show the pro-German bias of this well-meaning Englishman. 

"And if our English law, and our English ideas of justice and mercy, 
have retained, more than most European codes, the freedom, the truth- 
fulness, the kindliness, of the old Teutonic laws, we owe it to the fact, 
that England escaped, more than any other land, the taint of effete 
Roman civilization, that she, therefore, first of the lands, in the 12th 
century, rebelled against, and first of them, in the 16th century, threw 

*P. 158. 
P. 167. 
* P. 168, italics mine. 



176 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

off, the Ultramontane yoke." x Yet they were a "slave-holding 
aristocracy" ! 

Kingsley was a professor of history at Cambridge when he spoke, 
and "he was for many years one of the most prominent men of his time, 
and by his personality and his books he exercised considerable influence 
on the thought of his generation." 2 Yet this biased opinion for the 
German of "olden days" is nowhere borne out by history. It will come 
as a surprise and a shock to very many people when the cold, hard facts, 
unvarnished and unadorned, of German history from start to finish, are 
written anew. Practically, we know only the glowing German, or Ger- 
manized, accounts such as the above; though a far closer approximation 
to the truth may be found, temperately expressed, in French histories. 
But as the Germans told us that these were prejudiced, they have never 
been adopted or recognized appreciatively in this country. 

Less biased, however, than the French histories, are the actual 
sources themselves documents, chronicles, and literatures. To these we 
shall now turn, reviewing those of greatest importance, and used most 
often by the German claimants, in order to ascertain directly the facts 
which they alone reveal at first hand. 

In the face of modern praise for the "good, old German" of ancient 
days, it is well to recall again that he was most emphatically a barbarian, 
with all that that word means. To be sure, the degenerate Roman, 
product of a long and noble tradition and culture which was succumbing 
to the elements of weakness and rottenness within his own nature, 
became eventually a more despicable character than even the barbarian 
German. For the native German the Goth, the late Swabian, and the 
Saxon had, along with his crude vices, also crude virtues. And it was 
a question, back in the first centuries of his contact with Rome, whether 
he as a people would become truly civilized and would develop a new 
consciousness, sloughing off alike the crudities of his own savagery and 
the taint transmitted by Rome, or whether he would use the new edu- 
cation, superior culture, and broadening influences of the old-world 
civilization as a veneer or shield to cover, and as a means to reinforce and 
extend, the uncontrolled passions and vicious propensities of his untamed 
nature. 

Fifteen hundred years of history have answered this question. The 
Franks if they really were Teutonic, in France, the Saxons in Eng- 
land, to a more limited extent the Swedes of Scandinavia, have succeeded 
in rising out of the barbarism which their native German inheritance 
represented. It was a handicap which they overcame. In large measure 
this was due to three things: thorough admixture of races, prolonged 
contact with the culture and refining influences of Rome, and third, 
Christianity. The Franks in Gaul, being the first to interblend with non- 
Teuton peoples, the first to become thoroughly amalgamated with Rome, 

J P. 294. 

1 Ency. Brit., Vol. XV, p. 817. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 177 

and the first to become Christian, "the eldest daughter of the Church" 
naturally took the lead in this civilizing process. England, conquered 
also by Caesar, came next. The countries represented today by Germany, 
Austria, and Prussia, succumbed to the various German onrushes, and 
their Slav and Celtic populations melted into the more numerous and 
more powerful German strains. 

The France that struggled out of the Capetian period was essentially 
of a non-German, and distinctly of a Latin, spirit. Hence the rapid rise 
of the Romance or French language, hence the spread of typically 
French poetry, hence the galaxy of brilliant French warriors and kings 
who stand today as the epitome of the French spirit, and whose outer 
activities were the Crusades and Chivalry. 

Throughout all this period Alsace-Lorraine inherited the religious 
dispositions of France, and leaned towards the royalist traditions of the 
Mother-country. Neither of the Provinces were ever partial to the 
Empire-visions of the German Ottos and Fredericks; and conquest or 
feudal possession by them only succeeded in breeding a passionate desire 
for complete independence. One of the strongest arguments that blood- 
ties and popular predilections do actually count lies in the fact that when 
they did actually and finally face the possibility of independence, they 
chose to unite once more with France rather than to exist as separate 
states. 

There is nothing unique in this function of Christianity in France 
at that time. It was merely the first occasion in Western Europe. We 
see Christianity effecting precisely the same union quite recently in two 
countries Russia and Serbia. The many Russias were held together by 
loyalty to a common religious sentiment, and by the union, in the person 
of the Tzar, of Church and State. The Holy Orthodox Russian Church 
was the only effective binding influence between north and south Russia ; 
and a deplorable feature of the disruptive Bolshevik regime has been the 
overthrow of the Church. When Serbia, in 1831, broke away from 
Turkish rule, she threw over at the same time the claims of the Greek 
primate of Constantinople, and created for herself an independent 
national Church, perhaps the strongest single unitive force in the national 
spirit of Serbia throughout subsequent decades. 

The Germans were the last peoples to be Christianized, even in the 
nominal and superficial sense of those early days. And it should be 
added that the Saxons in England and the Franks and Normans in 
France gained civilization at the price of renouncing their "pure" 
German blood. It was by their mixing, by their assimilation, that they 
became civilized. It is because the Germans in Germany have retained 
a preponderance of the Teuton stock that they are even today, despite 
their own mixture of blood, a vicious, barbarian people. In history they 
have always been far behind the other European nations in manners, 
customs, intellectual attainment, political stability, national consciousness, 
and even religion, up to a very recent date. The Kultur they finally 

12 



178 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

affected in imitation of their neighbors chiefly France gave them intel- 
lectual understanding and capacity such as they had not previously had, 
but it did not succeed in elevating their essentially brutish characters in 
the slightest. It made them more responsible and more knowing, without 
making them more moral or more civilized. How truly refined they have 
become as a people and as a nation may be measured by their conduct of 
the War. Characteristics essentially theirs in the days of the barbarian 
invasions of Ancient Rome, are theirs today, intensified and wrought 
doubly corrupt by their increased understanding and self-consciousness. 
Morally responsible they are, because they have had every advantage 
which France, England and Belgium have possessed ; but at every step in 
history they have assumed certain of the outer forms only of civilization, 
remaining essentially themselves behind the mask of outer seeming. 

Despite the glowing impression as to the importance and accomplish- 
ments of the Ancient Germans, so popularly held, there has been a 
tendency since the War to compare, in a general way, the Huns of old 
and modern Germans. It will be well, however, for the world to realize 
that this is no mere superficial resemblance, but that the Germans today 
are not only the lineal descendants of those manifold peoples who broke 
and devastated Rome, they are also reproducing today the very same 
characteristics which distinguished them for their barbarity two thousand 
years ago. Nor have these marks of their peculiar ferocity ever ceased 
to exist throughout the Middle Ages, as well as in modern times down 
to the present War. As a race or type of people, only those of them who 
have become thoroughly blended with other races and types, and who 
have thereby come into intimate let us say hereditary contact with the 
ideals and ideas of those other races only these have become civilized 
in heart, as against becoming civilized in appearance only. 

All the Greek and Roman historians agree in this fact of German 
brutishness. The essential psychology of this people has not changed. 
Rosy and glowing accounts of them notwithstanding, they are described 
by the actual observers of old in terms which find an almost exact echo 
in the reports of this present War. As an example we might cite Dio 
Cassius, the Greek historian, writing in 200 to 229 A.D. He tells us of 
their battle tactics that "Many of them, owing to the closeness of their 
formation, remained standing even after they were killed." x Profoundly 
revolutionized as is the field of battle tactics, the Germans still fight as 
they did of old, because fundamentally their fighting psychology has 
not altered. 

If the myth of a cultured German savage, of an "aristocrat" which 
is in a phrase what Germany would have us believe if this impossibility 
is to be finally expunged from our minds, nothing could do it more con- 
vincingly than an examination of the very sources which German 
historians themselves use. Chief of these is Tacitus, the Roman historian ; 
and chief amongst his works is the little book On the Customs of the 



*Historia Romanontm, XXXVIII, 49. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 179 

Germans (De Moribus Germanorum). This is the German stand-by; 
and presents a literary and historic problem over which many minds have 
worked. Suffice it to say in summary, that one and all of the German 
savants take it quite seriously, and labor the text for the utmost limit of 
ingenious historic rehabilitation. The French, English, Italian, and 
American scholars are severally inclined to believe that Tacitus was not 
writing plain history, but that he was on the contrary, writing, if not 
an indirect satire on his fellow countrymen, then at least a very plain 
warning that if they did not give over certain of their very marked vices 
and their indolence, conquest by the German was inevitable. 

The reader unfamiliar with this work of Tacitus will not have 
found it difficult to guess that it praises the Germans. According to 
Dr. Gray, Tacitus held them up as "models" to the Romans. Non-German 
opinion has it that Tacitus magnified certain German virtues because he 
was using the time-honored method so often practiced by pulpit orators 
of extolling pagan virtue to stimulate the flagging virtues of the 
faithful. 1 

Three reasons lead non-German scholarship to form this conclusion. 
First, Tacitus singles out for praise virtues which were the direct anti- 
thesis to notorious vices of the Roman patricians. Second, his complete 
picture does not bear out the standard set by the laudatory passages. 
Third, Tacitus stands out as almost the only historian who really says a 
good word for the Germans ; every other account of them, even when 
not frankly hostile, is so filled with the horror of their beastliness and 
cruelty, that Tacitus becomes suspect from the very start. 

To all of which the Germans are blind, or at least completely 
unconvinced. 

Heine is a possible exception. He said in his Germany speaking of 
Madame de Stael, "Her book De I'Allemagne is in this respect like the 
Germania of Tacitus, who, perhaps, by his eulogy of the Germans meant 
indirect satire of his Roman fellow-countrymen." 2 

Tacitus' description has to be read in some such light to be read as 
history at all, therefore, and to discover his real opinion of the Germans, 
the laundatory passages of the Germania must be carefully compared for 
discrepancies and incidental admissions, and they may be further checked 
up with inconsistencies occurring in the less biased statements of his 
larger works, the Historiarium and Annalium. This the Germans do not 
do, even in serious, scientific studies, 3 at least we have not seen any. 
Nor is Tacitus the only historian of the Germans, there are scores of 
comparatively reliable authorities ; but no other has written such a eulogy, 
even to point a moral. All which is testimony to the powers of discrimina- 
tion of pure German science. 

1 E. g., Salvianus, a priest of Marseilles, who wrote in the 5th century De Gubernatione 
Dei. Cf. lib. VII. 

a The Works of Heinrich Heine, trans, by Hans Breitmann, Vol. V, p. 239. 

8 E. g., W. Liebenam's two studies on "Germanicus," in Neue Jahrbiicher fur Philologie 
und Paedagogik, 1891, Vol. CXLIII, p. 717 ft. 



180 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

It might assist the reader to bear in mind during the subsequent 
pages that Bernhardi, amongst others, declares of the Germans : "Since 
they were the first heard of in history, they have proved themselves to 
be a nation practising the highest form of civilization, indeed they are 
par excellence the civilized people." * And also Menzel : "The civil 
institutions, the customs and superstitions, of ancient Germany, arose 
from the peculiar and warlike form of government necessary for the 
guidance of a nation of free warriors, who owned no laws save those of 
chivalry and honour. This chivalric feeling is by no means sufficiently 
explained by ascribing it to the character common to all the wandering 
robber hordes, as it never rose in those of Asia to such a degree of 
sublimity [Did Menzel ever hear of Japanese Bushido? We shall recall 
this word 'sublime']. The cause must be sought in the traits peculiarly 
characteristic of our race" . . . etc. and etc. (p. 20). 

But for our purpose Tacitus will serve just as well as any other 
authority we could cite. We must bear in mind that he wrote when 
Roman civilization was at its highest as far as refinements, genuine 
culture, and wordly prosperity were concerned. At no period in history 
has civilization more nearly resembled our own; and Tacitus and his 
fellow-writers were just as capable of estimating the German invaders 
at their true worth as we are. If some one points to the Roman vices 
he deplores, and other signs of decadence, we can point, and with small 
advantage to ourselves, to our present divorce scandals, white-slave 
traffic, and problem plays as no more truly indicative, or completely 
representative, of our own degree of culture. Tacitus, and the Romans, 
felt themselves just as different, and just as superior, to the Germans, 
as we do today and with as good reasons. 

But let Tacitus speak for himself. We will take first the passage in 
De Moribus Germanorum, the foremost proof that the ancient Germans 
were "aristocrats," sublimely chivalrous, "models." Closely and literally 
translated, it reads : "Nevertheless, they are severe about matrimony, and 
they deserve the greatest praise for their customs ; for they are practically 
the only Barbarians who are content with one wife, except indeed a few, 
who not because of lust, but because of their nobility, surround them- 
selves with many wives. . . . Thus, they live a chaste life, seduced 
by no spectacles, corrupted by no provocative banquets. Men and women 
alike are ignorant of clandestine commerce by letters. In such a 
numerous people adultery is of the rarest; it is punished immediately, 
and with the permission of the husband. With hair shaved off, and 
stripped naked in the presence of relatives, she is expelled from the home 
of the husband, and chased with lashes by all through the countryside. To 
public loss of honour no favour is shown: neither beauty, nor youth, 
nor wealth can obtain her a husband. Vice is never treated by them as 
a joke, nor is profligacy or becoming corrupted considered the fashion of 



1 "Das Kultunrolk Kaf^OX^'v." Unsere Zvkunft; "Em Mahnwort an das deutsche 
Voile," p. 11, 1912. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 181 

the age. Some states do even better, in which they marry only virgins ; 
and with the choice once made her hopes of matrimony are closed for life. 
Thus they have but one husband, the same as one body and one life; 
she has no other thought, no other desire; and she loves not only her 
husband, but the married state." 1 

This passage, as said, has been left thus crudely translated with the 
deliberate purpose of expressing as directly and accurately as possible the 
bare phrases of Tacitus' decidedly unpolished Latin. His half-finished 
sentences are so condensed and rugged that many translators have 
worked their own shades of meaning into the text by means of smooth 
renderings. Needless to say the Germans wax almost poetic in their 
versions; and it is the mainstay for German eulogies of their "fore- 
fathers," together, perhaps, with the corroborative evidence of one of 
the Laws of the Visigoths (De Adulteriis, lex 3). 

To anyone familiar with the Latin authors of this period, Tacitus' 
obvious intention of preaching against certain deplorable Roman laxities 
is plainly manifest. He seizes the opportunity to commend the "noble 
simplicity of the German marriages," in order to pass a pointed censure 
on the excessive nuptial ceremonies established at Rome, and particularly 
the facility with which both sexes violated the marriage vow. The 
Roman censor had lost all power, and though Caesar and Augustus passed 
the so-called Julian Statutes (Annals, Bk. iii, sec. 25), the remedy was 
inadequate. Horace (Carm. 3, 24, 9), and Juvenal in his sixth satire, 
refer directly to the danger to Roman civilization in this prevalent 
immorality, as also Martial (Lib. vi, epig. 7). Tacitus further contrasts 
the clandestine letterwriting of the Romans, as also their banqueting 
and passion for the amphitheater, with the primitive simplicity of 
barbarian life clearly a direct attack at the Roman customs. Seneca, 
for his part, in his seventh letter, inveighs against the danger and relaxa- 
tion induced by another vice the games, which Tacitus also singles out. 
Tacitus is simply adding his voice, therefore, to the many protests ; and 
the Germans were used to point the moral, and to get a hearing from 
his blase fellow patricians. 

Corroboration of primitive German purity and sense of the value of 
chastity, is found by German scholars in other writers, such as in Caesar, 
in Valerius Maximus (Lib. vi, cap. 1), Florus (Epitome Rerum Roman- 
orum, Lib. Ill, cap. 3), in Procopius (De Bella Gothico, Lib. ii), and, 
from a later Christian source, in St. Boniface, Archbishop of Mentz, in 
a letter to Ethelbald, king of England. There are also others. But on 
examination, each and all of these passages are either echoes of the 
earlier sources or at best negative. Valerius tells of the fact that the 
aforementioned (probably Celtic) Cimbrian women who marched into 
Italy were all virgins, since they gave that as a reason to Marius when 
they wished to become Vestal Virgins. He says that they chose to 



1 De Mor. Germ., XVIII, XIX. 



182 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

strangle themselves rather than be exposed to the Roman soldiery. 
There can hardly be said to be proof of the first statement ; nor does the 
second event prove chastity, but rather the choice of a lesser evil. Florus, 
writing in the reign of Trajan, relates the same incident in detail, and 
with decidedly contradictory evidence. After the victory obtained by 
Marius over the Cimbri, the conflict was no less fierce and obstinate with 
the wives of the conquered. "Having drawn up their carts and wagons 
in line of battle, from these elevated stations, as from so many turrets, 
they fought the Romans with lances and poles. Their death was as 
glorious as their fighting. For, when, having sent an embassy to Marius, 
they did not obtain liberty to become religious (which of course could not 
be done) they strangled and suffocated their children then and there, 
and either killed themselves in one mutual slaughter, or with the sashes 
that bound up their hair, they hung suspended by the neck from the 
branches of trees or from the wagons." 1 Note that Florus calls them 
wives (uxoribus) ; he says nothing about virgins, implying that in the 
nature of things they could not become Vestals (nee fas erat), and refers 
to their children. He says nothing about dogs (vide Menzel). 

Procopius and St. Boniface both attest the devotion of German wives 
to their husbands and lovers as before, a contrast with Roman infidelity. 
Florus and Valerius are in essence saying the same thing. Among the 
Vinedians, says St. Boniface, the wife dispatched herself that her body 
might be burned on the same funeral pile with the man she loved. The 
Vinedians were probably Slavs, and not Germans, as we have already 
seen. Procopius gives a similar account of such practices by the Heruli. 
Everyone is familiar with this semi-religious rite amongst primitive 
peoples, equally in ancient Britain, in many parts of India, and in 
America by the Redskins. All these examples prove a passionate and 
perhaps religious devotion of wives for husbands, in a manner universally 
characteristic of many primitive barbarians. But they do not prove 
chastity, or even a high moral sense. To use such customs as proof of 
chastity as it is understood today, is a distortion of history and entirely 
without warrant. The Saxons are said to be superior to the other German 
tribes in this respect, and are so today from all accounts ; but they are 
only one restricted section of the people, and certainly have failed either 
to leaven their neighbors or to resist corrupting influences. Roman 
comments on German chastity were the reaction of cynical, worldly men 
to the vigorous naturalness of uncivilized, animal men. But to compare 
naive animal naturalness with chastity, and to identify the two, is not 
merely a confusion, it is a distortion. And let nobody think that animal 
naturalness in a barbarian German, especially when drunk, which he was 
constantly, would be tolerated by any genuine civilization. 

In point of fact, even Tacitus in the Germania had to except the 
"few" leaders, because, as everybody in Rome knew, Caesar had men- 



1 Epitome Rerum Romanorum, Lib. Ill, cap. iii, esp. sec. 16, 17, and 18. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 183 

tioned the "two wives" of Ariovistus, x and similar incidents. Nor is 
the complete picture which Tacitus gives very convincing, either of a 
high standard of morality, or of any very high ideals of anything at all 
except physical strength and physical courage and daring. His book as 
a whole is distinctly a description of barbarians, of savages, and this 
even in a eulogy. There was nothing noble, refined, or cultured about 
them; though there was superabundance of vital material with which to 
work and with which to upbuild a new, vigorous civilization. The 
successes and failures of this process are now being clearly revealed 
by War. 

Tacitus, doing his best in a eulogy, remember, and describing 
"cultured aristocrats," tells us that the Germans wear but one loose mantel 
of the skins of wild animals, which is never taken off or changed ; that 
is all. The women dress like the men, and habitually leave their arms 
and chests bare (xvii). The men, when they are not fighting, lounge 
half naked about the fires, drinking, gambling, and quarrelling. They 
have only one sort of public spectacle, in which the young men 
dance entirely naked between pointed swords and javelins (xxix). In 
every family the children of both sexes grow up together "in filth," 
entirely naked ; and no distinction in education is made between the 
master and slave. Both live with the animals, and pass the time on the 
same ground (xx). Drunkenness is their prevailing vice, and Tacitus 
says: "If you indulge their drunkenness, by furnishing them as much 
as they desire, this vice alone will conquer them no less easily than by 
battle (xxiii). ... To devote both day and night to deep drinking 
is a disgrace to no man" (xxii). In chapter xii, he speaks of the punish- 
ment for unnatural sexual vice to be buried alive in mud ; which 
admits the fact of its existence even amongst the uncorrupted Germans. 
In the Historiarium, we find Tacitus putting into the mouth of a Roman 
General Cerialis, while addressing his troops, these words : "The same 
motives which induced the Germans to cross the Rhine will ever subsist, 
insatiable lust, and avarice, and the love of changing their settlements. 
. On your own soil they wish to laud it over you. They come 
to ravage your lands, and liberty is the pretense." 2 

This almost verbatim summary of the actual text of Tacitus will 
dispel, probably, any idea of the Germans "practising the highest form 
of civilization" even in Tacitus' account of them. But there is more to 
the picture than this. It is not merely that the Germans had nothing 
which might be dignified with the word civilization in contrast to that 
of the Romans, even though the latter was over-ripe and in many ways 
rotten. The Germans cannot be blamed for being savages then. But 
they can be blamed for never having overcome their barbarism, and for 
having assumed (late in the day) the outer forms of culture as nothing 
more than a cloak to cover their inflated and debauched vices. For the 



1 De Bella Gothico, Lib. I, sec. S3. 

2 Op. cit., Lib. IV, 73; italics mine. 



184 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Germans, instead of rejecting the rottenness which led to the decadence 
of the Romans, added the peculiar vices of the latter to their own ; and, 
having acquired skill, address, and refinement in debauchery, they have 
continued to practice bestiality, rapacity, and cruelty from that day to 
this. 

The myth of German superiority must be understood. The German 
today is a whited sepulchre. He is in all essential characteristics the 
same as he was in primeval forests; his character is unchanged; and he 
has only learned through the centuries to direct the forces of his nature 
in a crescendo of highly-developed and, where convenient, smooth-faced, 
evil-doing. 

That the Germans have not changed, and that the civilized world 
still has to deal with a people which has been its enemy for centuries 
history makes abundantly clear. Tacitus in another place reports that the 
Roman General Germanicus, after several years campaigning against the 
Germans, exhorted his soldiers "to bend all their energy to slaughter; 
they wanted no captives ; the extermination of the people would alone 
put an end to the war." 1 Whether or not these words were ever actually 
spoken, Tacitus knew the common opinion of how faithless and ruthless 
the German tribes were, and he spoke his own and popular convictions, 
if not those of the famous Roman. \ A. G. 



1 Annalium, Lib. II, xxi. 

(To be continued) 



"Our will may be weak, very weak; He asks for that will that He 
may make it strong. All that God asks of us is our will; when given to 
Him, in whatever condition, He will make it good." 

Archbishop Ullathorne. 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 



THE chief event of the quarter the advance of the Allies on the 
Western and Eastern fronts is too well known and has been too 
widely commented upon, to need further notice by us. All we 
need do is to express our undying gratitude to Marshal Foch and 
the Allied armies for the blows they have dealt Germany, blows which 
we hope and believe will never cease until that entire nation, from 
Emperor to brutal peasant, is brought to its knees, howling (as only 
devils can howl) for mercy. 

It is at that point, however, when it comes, that the civilized world 
will face a test and a crisis more dangerous than any that the war so far 
has produced. Will it be misled by tears ? Will it be able to discriminate 
between tears of terror and self-pity on the one hand, and, on the other, 
tears of genuine repentance? There is no chance whatsoever that Ger- 
many will reach the stage of repentance during the life of the present 
generation. But that she will weep, and will weep copiously, loudly, 
appealingly, is almost certain. 

Rudyard Kipling, speaking recently to some American soldiers in 
England (Literary Digest, August 24th, 1918), declared that: 

"When Germany begins to realize that her defeat is certain, we shall 
be urged, in the name of mercy, toleration, loving-kindness, for the sake 
of the future of mankind, or by similar appeals to the inextinguishable 
vanity of man, who delights in thinking himself holy and righteous, when 
he is really only lazy and tired I say we shall be urged on those high 
grounds to make some sort of compromise with, or to extend some 
recognition to, the Power which has for its one object the destruction of 
man, body and soul. Yet, if we accept these pleas, we shall betray man- 
kind as effectively as though we had turned our backs on the battle from 
the first." 

Mr. Kipling concludes that not until "we have evidence not merely 
belief, but some proof that her heart has been changed," can it be right 
to treat Germany except as an unrepentant criminal. 

The same statement has been made by German refugees in Switzer- 
land who have fallen out with their fellow-countrymen. In an article 
published in the New York Times (August 1st, 1918), Mr. Frank Bohn 
quotes the reply of "a distinguished journalist of Berlin", Dr. Rosemeier, 
to the question, Can't you write something that would really get hold of 
people in Germany and bring them to their senses ? the reply being : 

"Write something ! Nonsense ! Haven't I been writing my fingers 
off for thirty years. What those fellows need is not ideas for their 
brains. They need bombs on their skulls" [If the German language were 
not prohibited in the QUARTERLY, our comment would be, "Echt 
deutsch!"]. 



186 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

When the questioner suggested that he had expected some help from 
within Germany herself, Dr. Rosemeier replied : 

"Help can come only from one place, from Bethlehem Bethlehem, 
Pennsylvania. But you do not realize it fully. They will cheat you yet, 
those Junkers. Having won half the world by bloody murder, they are 
going to win the other half with tears in their eyes, crying for mercy." 

From time immemorial, this has been one of the favourite tricks of 
devils, and particularly of the devil which we call a bully and which hides 
in the nature of some men and of nearly all Germans. When a bully can- 
not get his own way by force, he always weeps, first tears of rage, and 
then tears of self-pity. He expects the very people he has outraged, 
to weep in pity for him. If they do not, he cries aloud to Heaven against 
their heartlessness. 

May those tears, when they come, be understood ! Readers of the 
QUARTERLY can do much to bring about such understanding, particularly 
if they realize that there are thousands in America today who bide the 
signal of those tears to urge in the name of brotherhood, of religion, of 
"internationalism" and even of labour, that we should treat the self- 
pitying bully as if he knew himself a sinner and had turned from his 
lusts and wickedness to prayer and penitence and God. There are officers 
of widespread organizations, both philanthropic and religious, who wait 
impatiently for the day when, without appearing hostile to the Allies, they 
can in this way prove to Germany that their friendship is also for her. 

Fortunately for the world, the men at the front, who do the actual 
fighting, and whose experience has made it easier for them to grasp the 
facts, are by no means inarticulate. Among others, Captain Coningsby 
Dawson, author of Carry On and The Glory of the Trenches (the two 
best books, written in English, on the war), has made it very clear in his 
latest volume, Out to Win: The Story of America in France, that the 
soldiers simply will not tolerate their betrayal by civilians. In his Preface 
he writes : 

"In all belligerent countries there are two armies fighting the 
military and the civilian ; either can let the other down. . . . We 
execute soldiers for cowardice; it's a pity that the same law does not 
govern the civilian army. There would be a rapid revision in the tone of 
more than one English and American newspaper. . . . Only one 
doubt as to ultimate victory ever assails the Western Front: that it may 
be attacked in the rear by the premature peace negotiations of the civil 
populations it defends. Should that ever happen, the Western Front 
would cease to be a mixture of French, Americans, Canadians, 
Australians, British and Belgians ; it would become a nation by itself, 
pledged to fight on till the ideals for which it set out to fight are definitely 
established. 

"We get rather tired of reading speeches in which civilians presume 
that the making of peace is in their hands. The making may be, but the 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 187 

acceptance is in ours. I do not mean that we love war for war's sake. 
We love it rather less than the civilian does. . . . We started with 
a vision the achieving of justice; we shall not grow weary till that vision 
has become a reality. When one has faced up to an ultimate self-denial, 
giving becomes a habit. One becomes eager to be allowed to give all 
to keep none of life's small change. The fury of an ideal enfevers us. 
We become fanatical to outdo our own best record in self-surrender. 
Many of us, if we are alive when peace is declared, will feel an uneasy 
reproach that perhaps we did not give enough." 

Finally, this splendid passage: 

"To men who have gazed for months with the eyes of visionaries 
on sudden death, it comes as a shock to discover that back there, where 
life is so sweetly certain, fear still strides unabashed. They had thought 
that fear was dead stifled by heroism. They had believed that personal 
littleness had given way before the magnanimity of martyrdom." 



The second most important event of the quarter, in our opinion, was 
the indifference of the public and of the press when news came that the 
Czar of Russia had been murdered by the Bolsheviki. It has since been 
reported that the Czar's only son, a lad of thirteen, was murdered a few 
weeks later : also that the Czarina and her daughters have met the same 
fate. This has not been confirmed; but the Bolsheviki themselves have 
accepted responsibility for the murder of the Czar, so there can be no 
doubt about that. And there was scarcely a protest! There was none 
at all in America, so far as we are aware. Even the London Spectator, 
which so often speaks for what is best in England, merely "pities him 
for the manner of his end, after so many weary months of imprisonment 
and torture of mind." Instead of arousing a white heat of indignation, 
and notice from all the Allied and neutral Governments that the 
individuals who committed, and those who formally approved, this 
cowardly and monstrous crime, would be treated as outlaws by the 
civilized world, not one Government spoke, while public comment was 
luke-warm and syrupy to the point of being nauseating. So far as the 
press gave any indication of the attitude of Washington, officialdom 
continued to coquet with the professional murderers who call themselves 
Bolsheviki, and who in performance as in spirit have proved themselves, 
from first to last, of the same spawn as the Germans. 

If, after the murder of the Czar, the civilized nations had spoken and 
had acted as they should, and the Bolsheviki had thus been made to 
realize that the international conscience cannot be outraged with impunity, 
Lenine, Trotsky and their accomplices would never have dared to house- 
break the British Embassy in Petrograd and to have murdered Captain 
Cromie, its defender. His death was the direct result of the silence of 
our Governments and of the indifference of our press. Condemnation of 
""mass terrorism" and of "wholesale executions" raises a different issue, 



188 

and in any case has come too late, September 22nd, 1918. The Czar 
was murdered on July 16th. 

The vast majority of Russians are elementals. They have not 
reached the human stage. To imagine them fit for self-government is as 
grotesque as any of the gyrations which their own fancies have led them 
to perform to the bewilderment and horror of mankind. Yet it is this 
ridiculous attribution of maturity, which in fact it will take the Russians 
hundreds of years to attain, which is the cause, fundamentally, of the 
hesitancy and moral flabbiness which have characterized the dealings of 
the civilized nations with the Russian Revolutionaries, from the feeble 
Lvoff and theatric Kerensky, down to the common murderers, Lenine 
and Trotsky. France appears to have understood the situation better; 
but France was over-ruled. 

In America and in England particularly, there exists a tendency to 
attribute to other peoples the same faculties and qualities which we 
attribute to ourselves. Instead of realizing that the only way to govern 
Russia, if it is to be saved from the anarchy of recent months, is to treat 
her people as you would treat unruly and destructive children in a 
nursery, our theorists proceed on the supposition that all children (among 
nations as among human beings) are not only good but are sensible also. 
The war and the behaviour of Germany seem to have taught such people 
nothing. Because a democratic form of government is supposed to suit 
us, therefore according to their reasoning it will suit everybody. 
Russia, China, India, Japan, Turkey, would all of them live happily for 
ever after, if only they were governed "democratically." Washington is 
full of settlement- workers and fanatics who, with the best of intentions, 
are working day and night to spread among other nations the 
same revolutionary virus that caused the undoing of Russia. We 
suspect that Westminster is only a degree less blind. In the deeper sense, 
and seeing the war as a terrific struggle between the Powers that make 
for righteousness and the Powers that make for chaos and evil, no 
victory over Germany will be real so long as one of the Allied Govern- 
ments can say, "Do not offend the Bolsheviki, no matter what they do, 
because they represent a transition from autocracy to democracy." Such 
manifold confusion of thinking as any such statement implies; such 
hopeless perversion of the truths of life, would mean that, in certain vital 
respects, the Powers that make for evil had had their way. Righteousness 
does not spring from murder. Righteousness is based upon order, upon 
discipline, upon humility, and upon an ability to recognize superior 
wisdom and superior virtue with gladness. 



Condemnation of the Bolsheviki of Russia, and reference to the 
misguided reformers who unconsciously foster the Bolsheviki spirit, lead 
naturally to the mention of Mrs. Annie Besant's pernicious activities in 
India. There is no need to describe these in detail. Those who desire 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 189 

further information on the subject can obtain it from an article entitled 
"Top-Hat or Turban?", in the June, 1918, issue of Black-wood's Magazine. 
Statements have appeared in the press to the effect that Mrs. Besant 
"gave up Theosophy" in order to agitate against the British Government 
in India. The press could not understand, of course, that Mrs. Besant 
"gave up Theosophy" long before she was adopted by, and became 
spokesman for, the English-speaking babus. Unfortunately, however, 
Mrs. Besant has not given up, so far as we are aware, the use of the name 
"Theosophy." We wish greatly that she would. For one reason, if she 
were to do so, it would relieve us from the necessity of repeating the 
statement that neither she nor any organization with which she is asso- 
ciated has any connection with The Theosophical Society or with the 
THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY. 

We should like the same thing very clearly understood of Mr. C. W. 
Leadbeater, whose latest known offence is to masquerade as a "Bishop," 
and who has recently given to the world (though the world does not 
know it!) what purports to be a conversation on "the astral plane" with 
Prince Bismarck. Of all the balderdash we have read, we are prepared 
to give Mr. Leadbeater first prize for vacuous silliness. But what an 
outrage that he should use the words "Theosophy" and "Theosophical 
Society" as a cloak for his abnormalities! Fellow-worker with Mrs. 
Besant he is: and, like her, neither he nor any organization with which 
he is associated has any connection with The Theosophical Society or 
with the THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY. 



We want to recommend to the readers of the QUARTERLY a little 
book by Gipsy Smith, entitled Your Boys. It is published by Doran at 
50 cents. We recommend it, not only because it is a most interesting 
and moving account of the Gipsy's experience at the Front, but because 
it is one of the best treatises we know on the art of propaganda. Every 
student of Theosophy needs to know just how and when to convey to 
others the truths that are nearest his heart. He can learn a very great 
deal by reading this book. T. 



ELEMENTARY ARTIG 




THE PURPOSE OF SELF-EXAMINATION 

THE purpose of self-examination is to discover the facts about 
one's self. The unlearned in such matters, and that means nearly 
everyone, take for granted that they know themselves. They do 
not. Oliver Wendell Holmes pointed out years ago that every one 
consists of three persons, the person he thinks himself to be, the person 
his friends think him, and the person he really is ; that is, as the Master 
sees him. 

Self-examination is to reveal, to himself, the person he really is, 
as his Master sees him. As a mere experience, a complete revelation 
is said to be so horrible that it is more than consciousness can bear. It 
is like having a glimpse of Hell. Naturally this is not a pleasant thought, 
and as people refuse to credit unpleasant things, they refuse to credit this. 
They think they are not so bad; that they manage on the whole to live 
in harmony with their ideals ; that their occasional departures from their 
standard of right conduct, are not very serious breaches of the Law; 
that God is merciful and forgiving; that even if deserving of punishment, 
they do not deserve eternal punishment : and anyhow, life itself manages 
to even things up pretty well. Their accidents, troubles, illnesses, disap- 
pointments, unhappinesses and various kinds of miseries, represent quite 
a credit on the good side of the balance sheet of the Recording Angel. 
But they forget, or do not realize or understand, a very important 
thing, and that is that their standard is not the Master's standard. It is 
true that they are judged according to their standard, but only in so far 
as their moral responsibility is concerned. It mitigates the punishment 
they receive, or, to put it more correctly, it makes their breach of the 
Law less serious and more easily remedied ; the sin does not go so deep. 
But when it comes to being judged as to their fitness for Eternal Life, 
they must be judged, not according to their standard, but according to 
the standards of Eternal Life. 

We cannot live in Heaven unless we are fit to live in Heaven, and 
that means that our habitual conduct must conform to the standards of 
Heaven. Most people would be miserable in Heaven. They think of 
Heaven as a place where they will be happy after they are dead. Just 
how, they do not know, and their priests and clergymen have never been 
able to explain. What little the Bible says about it is not enticing. The 



igo 



THE PURPOSE OF SELF-EXAMINATION 191 

harp and hymn. habit does not appeal to them. An eternity praising God 
is, if the truth be told, positively awful in its possibilities of boredom. 
The simple fact is that we do not want to go to any Heaven we have 
ever heard of, and stay there forever. Forever is a long time. 

The real difficulty is that there is a very wide difference between our 
ideas of what constitutes bliss, and the actual conditions in Heaven. 
Fortunately this difference is not irreconcilable. The standards of 
Heaven will not change. Ours can and do. It is the only way out, and 
we are wise if we recognize the necessities of the case. 

Hence self-examination. It has been defined as a method of 
discovering the facts about ourselves, but we must go further, and add 
that its fundamental purpose is to discover wherein we depart from and 
fail to live up to the standards of Eternal Life. It is not enough to 
know wherein we fail to live up to our own ideals, for our ideals must 
in themselves be as much a subject for investigation as our conduct. 
And this not once or twice, but repeatedly, regularly ; for our ideals must 
grow. We are incapable of holding very high ideals at present. We 
must learn to live into higher and higher ideals, and the way to do this 
is pointed out in that pregnant and oft-quoted phrase from the Bhagavad 
Gita ; "he who is perfected in devotion will find knowledge springing up 
spontaneously within." 

Roughly speaking there are three stages on the journey: the first, 
where we strive to live in accordance with our own best ideals : the 
second, where we borrow freely from the experience of others as to what 
we really are, and as to what we ought to strive to be : and the third, 
where we begin to have some glimmer of the actual standards of Heaven, 
and earnestly try to conform in all ways to them. 

Most people, in so far as they really try to follow any ideal at all, 
are in the first class. A man's first efforts to be good, consist in some- 
times not doing something he is ashamed of. I am referring only to 
people really trying to follow an ideal. There are all sorts of standards 
of conduct before this point is reached. Perhaps the majority of people 
try somewhat to conform their conduct to what they think their neighbors 
expect of them. Their only practical ideal is other people's opinion. 
The trouble with this is that they value the opinion of the wrong people. 
It must not be confused with the second stage of self-examination, that 
of taking advantage of the knowledge and experience of others. 

We begin to try to be good. Several things follow. We find that 
we do not know how ; we find that we do not know always what we 
should do ; and above all, we find that our impulse is constantly evaporat- 
ing. It needs incessant encouragement and stimulation. We wander 
around in this maze a very long time. Many people pass many lives in it, 
for they are chiefly concerned in other and worldly things. The impulse 
to be good is only an occasional impulse, and does not last. But the time 
comes when our conscience never lets up, and when this urge of the soul, 
this more or less vague feeling of dissatisfaction with ourselves, brings 



192 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

us back again and again to our problem. So we begin being good all 
over again. And our renewed desire also gradually disappears, and in 
due time is renewed, and we go on and on, repeating this oscillation until 
the very angels must be ready to shriek with nervous exhaustion from 
watching the process. But we are gradually learning. Among other 
things we are learning that it pays to be good, for our repeated expe- 
riences with periods of effort and the lapses from virtue which separate 
them, show us that we are happiest during our periods of effort. It is 
true that it is not all rosy. We have to do things we do not like to do, 
and we have to stop doing things we still want to do ; but in spite of this, 
we are happier than when frankly following the dictates of our lower 
nature. Finally we reach the point when we consciously and deliberately 
try to stimulate this feeble and evanescent desire to be good. We honestly 
want it to persist and to grow strong. We begin to despise it and our- 
selves because it is so weak. We begin to lose confidence in ourselves, 
in our own wisdom, and worse than all, in our ability to be good. Being 
good is not so simple as we had thought it. We had imagined that anyone 
could be good who waated to be and that all you had to do was 
to be good. 

We are now about ripe for the second stage. We have tried so often 
to be good in our own way, and have failed, that we begin to realize that 
there is more to it than we thought. If we are sensible, we seek advice. 
Most people at this stage go to church, but, save in rare instances, they 
do not get all they want there, for the churches, as a rule, teach theoretical 
religion, theology, while what the seeker is after is knowledge of the 
spiritual life. Such knowledge exists in books, and may be found there, 
but many persons do not get knowledge easily from books, and most 
people need to have books interpreted for them, particularly books dealing 
with the spiritual life. If we wish to learn music, or chemistry, or 
mechanics, it can be done from books, but it is much easier to get some 
one else who knows the subject to teach us. So with the things of the 
inner world. Hence the second stage. We go to others for help of all 
kinds. We ask for light upon our problems ; for information about the 
Way ; for knowledge about ourselves ; for advice upon the best methods 
for us to follow. 

Everyone who seeks will find someone who can teach and guide and 
help him. It often is not done in the way he expected, and the advice 
is usually not what he wanted ; but the guidance is there, none the less. 
In religious terms, the Master has sent someone to help him, and he will 
be wise to follow this guide. This, however, is a subject in itself. We 
must assume, for the purposes of this section, that the would-be disciple 
surmounts the pitfalls of this stage, and begins to catch some glimpses of 
the clear, white light that beats around the throne. It is not until he gets 
there that he sees himself as he really is. It is next to the last experience 
in self -revelation. It is now, for the first time, that he fully realizes 
how unqualified he is for residence in Heaven. It is his self-examination 



THE PURPOSE OF SELF-EXAMINATION 193 

with the aid of this light, that enables him, at last, to search out all the 
hidden evil in his nature, and to see himself as he really is. It is what 
teaches him humility. We get our first lessons in humility when we 
become dissatisfied with ourselves. We advance a stage when we begin 
to learn what others really think of us. Our growing virtue blossoms 
into real humility when we see ourselves as the Master sees us. 

In the first, nascent stages of effort, we are quite sure being good is 
easy, and that we can do it all. In the second stage we begin to doubt 
our ability to do everything necessary; we need some measure of help, 
bits of advice, occasional encouragement, at least. In the last stage we 
see ourselves to be so wicked that nothing but the full gift of the Master's 
grace will suffice to get along at all. Self-examination and humility, of 
course, go hand in hand: we become humble as we learn to know 
ourselves. 

But the point of this section is that increasing self-knowledge leads 
to an increasing realization of our unfitness for residence in Heaven, and 
an increasing knowledge of why. It would be impossible to explain to 
an ordinary person why he would be unhappy in Heaven. It would not 
be desirable to try. It would only confuse, discourage, or repel him. 
He does not know enough about the fundamentals of the spiritual life to 
be able to understand what you were trying to tell him, and he would 
carry away a lot of totally wrong impressions. Among other things, 
you would have to deal with states of consciousness which he never heard 
of, and which were totally outside his experience, and he would not know 
what you were talking about. As, for instance, when you speak of the 
pleasure of praising God, or of the joy of sacrifice, or the happiness of 
the Cross. 

With this explanation of the purpose of self-examination, and the 
description of methods which was set forth in the last article, everyone 
should be able to devise a system suited to his special needs, which should 
be made a part of his Rule of Life. C. A. G. 



"There is no wealth but life, including all its powers of love, of joy, 
and of admiration." Ruskin. 



13 




Theosophy and the Christian Faith, by the Rev. Kenneth Mackenzie (TAe 
American Church Monthly, June, 1918). The part played by the Church and 
Churchmen in carrying the torch of scholarship through those centuries which it 
once pleased us to call "dark," is now well known to everyone. Few, however, 
realize how great and continuous has been the contribution of the Clergy to 
modern science and learning to mathematics, astronomy, and physics, no less 
than to history and philosophy. There has been no lack of scholarship in the 
Church, from its foundation to the present time, and this makes it the more 
strange and regrettable that there should be no scholarly Church periodical. 

We had hoped that The American Church Monthly, now in its third 
volume, might fill this need, and we are, therefore, not a little disappointed at 
the recent evidence of its inability to maintain its standards, and to exclude from 
its pages articles that are not only unworthy of the name of scholarship, but are 
so patently the result of superficial and undigested reading that it is difficult to 
understand how they could have passed the most cursory editorial inspection. 
Without close and thorough editorial study and sifting, no journal can maintain 
a consistent level; and this is particularly true in the case of a religious maga- 
zine, where the temptation is constantly present to use as an article what was 
written as a sermon addressed primarily to local needs and misunderstandings, 
and prepared in those few, quick-passing hours that are all the hard-working 
Rector of an active Parish can command. 

A case in point is the article in the June issue of The American Church 
Monthly, "Theosophy and the Christian Faith," by the Rev. Kenneth Mackenzie. 
That this was originally written as a sermon we cannot, of course, be sure 
though there is much to suggest it and though this hypothesis could scarcely 
excuse, it would at least tend to mitigate and explain the offense of its ignorance. 
A scholarly comparison of two great presentations of the laws of the spiritual 
life would be as impossible within the limitations of a sermon as it would be 
inappropriate for any ordinary congregation. It would, moreover, be foreign 
to the purpose for which sermons are preached ; for these, aiming to arouse the 
soul and will to lay firm hold upon some great truth of Christian teaching, can 
use comparisons only as the artist uses them to throw into bolder relief the 
central features he wishes to depict. Every practised speaker knows the danger 
that if error be presented too vividly, it, and not the truth with which it is con- 
trasted, may be what will remain in the minds of his hearers ; and so vagueness 
and darkness of background may be as much of a merit in a sermon as it often 
is in a portrait. 

It is a wholly different matter, however, when the artist's creation of light 
and shadow is presented by a responsible Church periodical as a serious essay in 
comparative religion. To compare two things each must be seen clearly; and 
the darkness and confusion of thought, the ignorance, superficiality and crass 
misinterpretations that mark Mr. Mackenzie's treatment of one side of his dual 
theme, cannot be redeemed by the excellence of his Biblical quotations on the 
other. It is not only that, as an article, it affronts the intelligence of the reader; 



REVIEWS 195 

that would be a merely personal consideration. The grave aspect of the matter 
is that in the editorial sanction accorded it, by its publication in such a magazine, 
it may be taken as justifying the charges too often made by laymen against the 
intellectual integrity and concept of scholarship that the Church as a whole 
brings to its interpretation of the great religious systems of other times and 
peoples. 

Consider, for example, what Mr. Mackenzie has to say of Buddhism (p. 325). 
"In India, its home and fertile ground of growth, it bred and nourished a 
despicable caste distinction, which ground to the earth the poorer classes; it 
degraded womankind; it compelled the young widow to throw herself upon the 
funeral pyre of her dead husband; because Karma had no relief from the agonies 
of a torturing conscience, frenzied souls cast themselves under the crunching 
wheels of the Juggernaut car or into the flowing Changes, their children, too, 
sharing their miserable fate at times." 

We hold no other brief for Buddhism than that which every thoughtful man 
must hold for a great system of religious thought and life, but can the Rev. Mr. 
Mackenzie, can the editors of The American Church Monthly, be really ignorant 
of the fact that Buddha came as a reformer, seeking to correct the abuses and 
perversions that had overgrown the earlier Indian religions? Do they not know 
that instead of "breeding and nourishing a despicable caste distinction," Buddha 
sought to overthrow the abuses of the then existing caste system, by substituting 
a spiritual order, teaching that those of lowest caste might become saints and 
Buddhas, that true rank and place in the world of the real was a matter of 
holiness open to all? Against each and every one of the evils here attributed 
to Buddhism, Buddha preached. To ascribe them to him, or to his system, is 
as though we were to gather together all the perversions of the Hebrew sects, 
the Sadducees and Pharisees and Levites, against which Christ contended, and 
add to them all the distortions of the pagan faiths that mingled in the Eastern 
Mediterranean basin, and ascribe them to Christianity. The heartless legalism 
of "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," is not Christianity; and the 
heartless legalism which "ground to the earth the poorer classes," is not 
Buddhism, nor the teaching of Buddha, "The Compassionate." Five minutes 
spent with any encyclopaedia would have prevented a school boy from falling into 
such errors as these. Is it too much time for even a busy clergyman to give 
before he writes on such a theme? 

In his concept of Theosophy Mr. Mackenzie reveals the same confusion of 
thought and ignorance of facts that mark his references to Buddhism. His 
reading has been both narrow and superficial, and apparently very hasty; for 
though he quotes from such a primer as Mr. Judge's Ocean of Theosophy, it is 
clear that he has been able to view it only through initial prejudices and pre- 
conceptions that wholly distort its meaning. A possible explanation of these 
preconceptions and, indeed, of the genesis of his entire article is suggested in 
his opening paragraph. 

"In a recent call upon one of his parishoners, a rector felt led to speak 
deprecatingly of the numerous religious fads that are commanding attention. 
With a patronizing wave of her hand, she replied in tones of satisfied conviction, 
'O, I see good in them all.' Weighed in the scales of a well-balanced judgment, 
this equals the oft-repeated slogan of the nineteenth century, 'It does not matter 
what a man believes, so long as he is sincere.' " 

The prototype of Don Marquis's Hermione may be found in the country as 
in city parishes, and delightful though she be on the printed page where you 
can crumple her up and deposit her in the waste basket when you are through 
with her she is a very trying person to have to deal with in the flesh, and there 
is then no such easy way of disposing of her vagaries that a conscientious clergy- 
man can take. The irritation that she causes is persistent and omnipresent. Her 



196 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

advocacy of the ten commandments would be enough to make one crave to 
break them all, so that it is the mercy of Providence that she spends her enthu- 
siasms upon what is generally superfluous to those about her. We guess that it is 
from her that Mr. Mackenzie has learned his Theosophy, and that it was her 
voice he was hearing as he skimmed the few books he deemed necessary to read 
for her refuting. To Hermione and her kind to those exponents of the "Higher 
Culture" from which the waters of understanding and wisdom drain so freely 
to more lowly levels "Swamis" and "Theosophy," Buddhism and the whole vast 
conglomerate of diverse sects of ancient faiths that crowd the Indian continent, 
are as one and the same. Therefore let them be one and the same to Mr. Mackenzie 
also. We can think of no other way to account for his conception of Theosophy, 
which is as startling to a genuine student as would be the attempt to present 
Christianity as a composite picture of the Borgian Popes, a negro camp meeting, 
the Revelation of St. John, and a Suni snake dance, with references to the tortures 
of the Inquisition and the bigamous activities of the Mormon "prophets," as 
illustrative of its practical outcome. 

And yet, within the limitations of his scanty reading and dominating precon- 
ceptions, Mr. Mackenzie would probably consider that he had made a real effort 
to appear fair. "Our province," he tells us (page 317), "is to ascertain what 
Theosophy really is. The etymology of the word defines it as the Wisdom of 
God. Upon us lies the burden of discovering if it, or the Church-acknowledged 
Word of God shall have that honour." 

Had Mr. Mackenzie read the constitution of The Theosophical Society, or 
even the proclamation, printed for the past fifteen years on the back of this 
magazine, he would have realized that it is in its strict etymological sense that 
the Society uses the word "Theosophy." It denotes Divine Truth, the totality of 
spiritual law and life, which must forever transcend in its infinitude the circum- 
scription of mental formulas, but of which the partial truths, that each man has 
made his own and that guide him day by day, are rays and parts. Only as a man 
may say, "The Wisdom of God has ordained," or, "The truth is," and mean 
thereby that he is giving his own understanding of divine law as it may have 
been taught him, or his own view of truth as he may have been shown or recog- 
nized it (not attempting to define and circumscribe the whole action of Providence, 
of the content of absolute Truth), so only may a man say, "Theosophy teaches." 
The Society has "no creed, dogma, nor personal authority to enforce or impose." 
To each of its members, Theosophy is the Whole, of which their own vision of 
the truth is a fragment; and they seek to open their minds and souls to wider 
sectors of this infinite wholeness of the Wisdom of God, by the synthetic study 
of other fragments that may supplement their own putting all to the test of 
experience in the crucible of daily life. 

There can be no antagonism between a ray of light and light; between a 
part and the whole; between the truth in our understanding of Christ's reve- 
lation the truth of what we call Christianity and the deeper, greater truths 
that He no less revealed, but which we have not yet learned to grasp. We 
cannot oppose Christianity and Theosophy, and it is the irony of fate that 
in seeking to set them one against the other, Mr. Mackenzie should quote 
the very chapter or the epistle in which St. Paul asserts the personification 
of Theosophy in Christ: "Christ the Power of God and the Wisdom of God." 
(Christos theousophia, I. Corinthians, 1. 24.) 

Can we think that we have grasped, that the Church has formulated, the 
whole of what Christ revealed? That all of His meaning, all of Theosophy, the 
Wisdom of God, is contained in our present understanding of the fragments of 
His teaching that have come down to us? "All that is necessary for salvation," 
yes ; because if we live by what we know, we shall learn more. But all that God 
has taught the world? All that Christ revealed and lived? We know that it is 



REVIEWS 197 

not so. We even know how small a part of Christian Theology is drawn directly 
from Christ's recorded words. To understand Him, even to the small extent 
that we do, we have had to study the Hebrew scriptures that preceded Him a 
portion of the background against which His message was revealed, to which He 
referred and from which He quoted. We have not deemed that the necessity for 
this study belied the completeness of His revelation, or that His words were less 
the words of God because some of them had been spoken first through a Jewish 
seer. Why, then, should it be deemed, even by the most narrow of minds, that 
it could be hostile to Christianity to promote the study of those other great streams 
of religious thought and experience, that, mingling with the Hebraic in the great 
triangle between Egypt, India and Greece, formed the setting for the Master's 
life and teaching? Why should it seem strange that He should draw parables 
of the Kingdom of Heaven from the Upanishads, as well as quote from the 
Psalms? 

Too often churchmen belittle Christ in seeking to exalt the narrowness of 
their own conception of Him. It is this that has driven many from the Church, 
and laid upon The Theosophical Society the task of finding them, and leading 
them once more back to the Christianity they thought that they had lost. For 
we cannot understand the Master if we are content to look upon Him only 
through the narrowing lenses of Hebraic tradition. He was the foe of falsehood, 
but all of Truth was His own the truth of the Hebrew prophets, the truth 
of Buddhism, the truth of the Upanishads, of Isis and Osisris and of the pyramid 
texts of Egypt. What else does the Incarnation mean? And so, if we would 
grow toward Him, toward an understanding of "the measure of the stature of 
the fulness of Christ," we might learn to grow into an understanding of "the 
unity of the faith" ; learning to see "Christ, the Power of God and the Wisdom 
of God," in the truth of all the faiths, and not be blinded by the man-made 
errors and perversions with which they have been overlaid amongst ourselves 
as in the distant ages of the past. "Wisdom is humble." If we would achieve 
it we must have the humility that knows it does not know, that sets itself patiently* 
to learn, that rejects nothing because it seems foreign to our preconceptions, but 
which realizes that the soul of all things is from God. To do this is to study 
Theosophy and to seek the mind of Christ. 

But the Rev. Mr. Mackenzie cannot see that this is what Theosophy means 
to those who have given themselves to its pursuit. To him it appears only as a 
separate sect and "ism," one of the innumerable religious fads. The language 
of other times and races is strange to him, and within the difference of words 
he cannot recognize the identity of fact. He cannot see the "Communion of 
Saints" in the "Brotherhood of just men made perfect," nor translate "Mahatmas" 
as "the great of soul": to him they are "weird gnomes." Reading Mr. Judge's 
modest pages, in which he strives to tell to his fellow students something of 
what he himself has learned and tested (for the study of Theosophy is first and 
foremost an experimental science), Mr. Mackenzie can find only a "disguised 
Buddhism," a "Heathen Invasion," which he calls upon us to face "with a bravery 
born of the Holy Spirit of God, and answer its arrogant advance with the con- 
fident cry, 'You shall not pass.' " It is a strange phantasy, for those of us who 
knew and loved that simple gentle-hearted Irishman, to imagine Mr. Judge 
arrogantly imposing the car of Juggernaut upon the Christian world, and to con- 
ceive of The Theosophical Society whose first object is the establishment of "the 
nucleus of an universal brotherhood, without distinction of race, creed, sex, caste, 
or colour" breeding and nourishing "despicable caste distinctions" and "degrading 
womanhood." 

Why is it, we wonder, that so many of the reverend gentlemen, who so 
lightly criticize the faiths that are not their own the great systems of religious 
thought and aspiration by which countless millions of men have lived and toiled 



198 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

upward, and wrought nobly in the world and drawn nearer to the Divine should 
never pause to remember what Stevenson has so wisely said. It takes two to 
tell the truth ; one to speak, and one to understand. And yet, when they find 
only falsity and error, they never seem to suspect. H. B. M. 



The Pan-German Plot Unmasked, by Andre Cheredame, published by Scribners, 
at $1.25. Every reader of the QUARTERLY has probably heard of this book. To 
understand the War, it is absolutely necessary to be familiar with the facts which 
M. Cheredame sets forth. No other writer has so clearly unmasked the nature 
of the German conspiracy or its immediate objectives. M. Cheredame has now 
issued another volume entitled The United States and Pan-Germania which is pub- 
lished by Scribners at $1.00. The author again warns us of the danger of the 
"peace of the drawn game": in other words of a status quo ante peace. He explains 
that "peace without annexations or indemnities" is really a German formula, prob- 
ably adopted by the Bolsheviki at the instigation of the German Foreign Office. 
He insists that the key to the situation lies in Austria-Hungary the jackal of the 
Pan-German Alliance. Very few people in this country have the least understand- 
ing of the Balkan problem, nor do they realize the iniquities which Austria-Hungary 
has perpetrated at the expense of races which she and Germany have conquered 
and which they use for their own nefarious purposes. Every student of Theosophy 
must necessarily desire to acquaint himself with the inner significance, on every 
plane, of this great outer struggle. We recommend either of these books as an 
excellent introduction to the subject. T. 



The Ultimate Belief, by A. Clutton-Brock, published by E. P. Button and 
Company, strikes a right note regarding the subject of education. The author 
begins by recognizing in all mankind, children and adults, alike, certain desires 
which he terms desires of the spirit as distinct from desires of the flesh. They 
are the desire for right action (the moral quality), the desire for truth, and the 
desire for beauty, each to be sought for its own sake. 

These qualities or faculties, he says, are ignored in the modern system of 
education. Usually it is thought that the moral activity is the only one that can 
lay claim to the term spiritual; truth and beauty are regarded as subsidiary, truth 
being useful, perhaps, and beauty pleasurable. In reality, all three must be exer- 
cised equally; no one of them can be rightly used if the others are starved. The 
Universe itself is to be valued because it has in it truth, beauty, right ; the aim of 
life is to discover and exercise these faculties, and not to do so is not to live 
at all. The whole purpose of education, then, is to strengthen these spiritual fac- 
ulties, not to impart them, for they cannot be so given, being innate in every child, 
but to teach a recognition of them and of their value, and to aid in their develop^ 
ment. Modern education, on the contrary, tends to suppress them, practically to 
make the child ashamed of them, this being particularly true of the aesthetic side. 

Unfortunately, the writer has an apparent prejudice against the exaction of 
obedience, and fails to see its full value in the carrying out of his theories. 
"Obedience, in itself, is not good or bad ; the young must learn it only because 
they have to learn, and you cannot learn without obedience," he writes. And 
again, "The desire to do what is right is something different from the readiness to 
obey. If I love truth for its own sake, or righteousness for its own sake, I shall 
prefer both to obedience, and I may be very inconvenient to a teacher whose aim 
is to make me obedient." As an illustration of this point, he uses the boy Shelley, 
with his passion for truth and righteousness and with it his faculty for creating 
trouble for himself and others. But in that illustration he misses the fundamental 
point in obedience which is that conduct cannot be allowed to depend on inclina- 
tion, in view of the continual conflict between the higher and lower self. Take, 



REVIEWS 199 



for instance, the soldier who really loves his country and his country's cause; in 
his higher moments, he recognizes his superior officer as the expression of his own 
higher will; it can scarcely be expected that he do so when his lower self is in the 
ascendency. Nothing but an ingrained habit of obedience without regard for in- 
clination can help him then. But it must be remembered that in giving that obedi- 
ence, he is obeying not merely the superior officer, but his own higher will. 

The same thing holds good, whether it be the soldier, or Shelley or you or I : 
the love of truth and righteousness and beauty is a part of our higher natures, and 
as such should certainly be exercised. But it cannot be exercised, cannot even be 
rightly recognized through the medium of a lower self which acts entirely on in- 
clination. And only through obedience habitual obedience can the right re- 
lationship between higher and lower be established, making possible the true 
expression of the higher. J. C. 

La France Devant L'Allemagne (France Against Germany), by Georg Clem- 
enceau, 1916. This is a collection of speeches and articles by the famous and 
intrepid French statesman, beginning in 1908, and including a large selection, since 
the War, from his two papers L'Homme Libre, and L'Homme Enchaine. Many 
of them are marked by the fiery eloquence and prophetic insight already known to 
readers of the "Screen of Time." The Preface gives the key for interpreting the 
many diverse thoughts and opinions expressed in the book, and is patent example 
of the true Frenchman's ability to look facts squarely in the face. "What strikes 
me above all, in the tremendous adventure of these days, is that, misled by words, 
we have been, and probably still are, the supreme dupes of a verbalism of civiliza- 
tion which has made us live in a phraseology of humanitarianism, but which is in 
cruel discord with the reality." The test of civilization is in the religious canon 
Lovest thou? M. Clemenceau has proved that he, as one leader amongst a host of 
Frenchman, can and does love the Patrie. He not only associates himself with 
France, he says that in striking at her, Germany "assassinates" him. "They assas- 
sinate me, and I defend myself, to the displeasure of certain false neutrals who 
dissertate on the most congruous method of letting me be assassinated." Germany 
has no "charity." 

The following extract will serve to illustrate in a measure the spirit of the 
book, which takes us through all the early stages of the War, into the trenches, 
and ends at Verdun, with the cry "// le faut, c'est le Dieu le veut." The extract 
quoted was written in May, 1913, a year before the War, and its prophetic insight 
can only be compared with that of the Wise Men of Ancient Israel. 

"To WILL OR TO DIE." 

" .... At Reuilly, at Toul, at Bel fort acts of mutiny are reported, which 
should not be exaggerated, because the most turbulent spirits amongst them would 
be perhaps the most ardent in time of war, but which are giving abroad (read 
the comments of the German press), and even in France, the most deplorable 
impression. 

" .... At Macon, at Nancy, riotous groups of soldiers sang the Internationale 
and cried Hurrah for Socialism! . 

" . . . . Who then are these sons of the conquered, who, finding their coun- 
try dismembered, under the insults of the Pangerman press, and at only two steps 
from the frontier, add the outrage of their revolt to the wounds of the mutilated 
Patrie, as if better to prepare the way for the execution of the menaces of the 
enemy? Their fathers, fallen on the field of battle in defence of the land of their 
forbears, were unable to prevent Frenchmen from being torn from France at the 
point of the sword. A whole people cried to heaven that France would one day 
redeem herself. Happy the dead not to see themselves forsworn by those men of 
all men who, before history, owe them the reparation of this outrage ! 



200 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

"What exactly has happened? You have been told, poor fools, that all men 
are brothers, and that there are no frontiers in nature. That is true. But since 
the time of Cain and Abel, evil passions the common heritage of all ! have armed 
brother against brother; and when my brother attacks me with a raised knife, I 
purpose to protect against Cain the soil where mine have lived, and where mine 
will live after me. 

"If there are no frontiers in nature, neither are there cities, monuments, or 
those products of art and science by which civilization is glorified; nor all that 
brilliant train of history whose most noble culture has made a miracle of humanity. 
All these things are, however, and they all have the right and the determination to 
exist, under all men's skies. 

"But cupidity is kindled sooner or later at the sight of treasure, and walls 
are raised, and bastions and battlements are erected to secure a legitimate defence. 
And sentinels watch on the ramparts to protect the fruit of honest labor. And as 
thou watchest to-day for thyself and for others, others will watch to-morrow for 
thee. 

"Shame upon thee if thou deliver to irreparable devastation the supreme 
sanctuary of all grandeur and of all beauty! Thou believest thyself a thinker; 
unhappy one! Thou art nothing but feeblemindedness gone astray. 

"Someone must begin, sayest thou? Not so. There must at least be two to 
make a beginning. While thou art disarming, dost thou hear the fracas of the 
cannon, on the other side of the Vosges? Take care. Thou wilt weep all thy 
heart's blood without being able to expiate thy crime. Athens, Rome the great- 
est things of the past were hurled to earth the day when the sentinel failed, as 
thou art beginning to do. And thou, thy France, thy Paris, thy village, thy field, 
thy pathway, thy brook, all this tumult of history out of which thou issuest 
because it is the work of thy ancestors, all this, is it nothing to thee, and goest 
thou, coldly, to deliver its soul (of which is moulded thy soul) to the fury 
of a stranger ? Yes ! Say then that that is what thou wishest, dare to say it, that 
thou mayest be cursed by those who have made thee a man, and be dishonored 
forever. 

"Thou pausest, thou didst not understand, thou didst not know. There has 
been required of thee a heavier sacrifice than thou hadst thought! It is true. 
It is an increase of effort which is demanded of thee, and of thee as of many 
others, who would hold themselves unworthy of France if they had murmured. 
Very well! remember that even this is not enough for one's country. Someday, 
most beautiful at the moment when hope is brightest, thou wilt quit thy parents, 
thy wife, thy children, all that thou cherishest, all that holds thy heart and 
encloses it; and thou wilt go forth, singing as thou didst yesterday, but a different 
song; and with thy brothers real brothers these forth to face a frightful 
death which reaps human lives in a terrible hurricane of iron. And it will be at 
this supreme moment that thou wilt see again in a vision everything which can be 
included in this one word, so sweet the Patrie; and thy cause will seem so beauti- 
ful to thee, thou wilt be so proud to give all for her, that, wounded or dead, thou 
wilt fall content. 

"And thy name will be honored, and thy son will walk with a proud glance, 
because, happier than thou, he will understand from childhood the beauty of sacri- 
fice for the sanctity of home, and his heart will beat faster at thy memory; and 
thou wilt have conquered, and, dead, thou wilt continue to live in thy posterity. 

"Say no more. I see that now thou hast understood. Go redeem thy mistake, 
and return to us bettered, in order to recover with joy the place amongst us which 
thou canst hereafter take as thy right." 

It is hard to remember in reading this that it was written a year before the 
War. Some people there are who understand. A. G. 




QUESTIONS 



ANSWERS 




QUESTION No. 223. How can the doctrine of the Vicarious Atonement be 
reconciled with the law of Karma f 

ANSWER. Vicarious Atonement is perhaps the greatest of all mysteries, the 
most difficult religious problem to solve in a way that is satisfactory to the ordinary 
human mind, blinded as it is by materialism and prejudice. It is only when 
preconceived opinions are given up that we can attain to that state of mind which 
makes it possible for us to realize, to some extent, the true nature of man and his 
relationship with all other human beings and with God, the Father in heaven. 
Without this no research into the mysteries of human life can be rewarded with 
success. We have an often quoted passage of Emerson, which expresses this 
relationship admirably well, "There is one mind common to all individual men. 
Every man is an inlet to the same and to all of the same". As students of 
Theosophy we might put the same idea thus : "All human beings are manifestations 
of the Oversoul and separate beings only so long as they consider themselves to 
be so". 

"All souls are one in the Oversoul". Everyone that has attentively studied 
Theosophy knows this to be the fundamental principle of Universal Brotherhood. 
The Oversoul is the creator of all, the Sustainer and Protector of all, the Bearer 
of the burdens of all, the Adjuster, and the compassionate Providence that 
regulates the operations of the Divine Law in order to bring about the most 
favorable results for all, and for every individual as well, since the welfare of 
one soul reacts upon the welfare of all souls. This doctrine must at first be 
accepted on faith, and then lived, because only so can it in time be felt, and at last 
experienced as Eternal Truth. Only then can we understand rightly this saying 
of John the Baptist: "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of 
the world", and the revelation about the Atonement of the Universal Christ, the 
Son of God, by the prophet Isaiah, who said: "He hath borne our griefs and 
carried our sorrows. . . . He was wounded for our transgressions. He was 
bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with 
His stripes we are healed." Both John and Isaiah are here pointing at the Atone- 
ment of the Oversoul, the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us. 

To indulge in separateness is to indulge in that which is not Truth and there- 
more more or less sinful. To seek union with all souls in the Oversoul, is to seek 
the Eternal Truth, beneficial to oneself and to all. As all that tends towards 
separation is sin, since it is contrary to Truth, such activity cannot atone for the 
sins of anyone. But by striving for union we are working for the realization of 
Truth, which means to work for the salvation of all. We are then helping to 
counterbalance the wrongdoings of others with the beneficial force engendered by 
working for Truth. In this way we are lifting "a little of the heavy Karma of 
the world", helping a little to prevent it from crushing poor, suffering mankind. 

By working for Truth we are co-workers with Christ, who came to bear 
witness to the Truth; and in time we shall become one with Him. All His 
co-workers are helping in taking away the sins of the world. If the sins of the 
world are not balanced in this way, their daily increasing burden will bring on 



202 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

such disasters as war, famine, pestilence, or catastrophies similar in their effects 
to that which happened to Sodom in the history of the Jews, and to Pompeii in a 
much later period. 

Atonement for the sins of all means also Atonement for the sins of any single 
individual. But this Atonement does not take away the effects of sins and thus 
leave mankind free to sin again and again without having to suffer for it. This 
would be contrary to justice and compassion and therefore immoral. Vicarious 
Atonement is certainly an expiation for the sins of others, but only for the welfare 
of mankind. It is a readjustment of the disorder in the Divine Harmony brought 
on by sin. It offers fresh opportunities to every human being for conversion 
from his evil ways. For this purpose only did Christ atone for the sins of the 
world; and all co-workers with Christ are adding their little quota to this Atone- 
ment. It is in this individual Atonement that individuals, working for Truth, are 
playing such a prominent part within their race, nation and family, though they 
may not know what a blessing they are to their surroundings or what an important 
role they are playing in the evolutionary course of those within the reach of 
the salutary force which, through them, is poured on all mankind from a higher 
world. 

We ought not to find it difficult to reconcile the doctrine of Vicarious Atone- 
ment with the Law of Karma and Divine Justice. The Law of Karma is not like 
frail human laws. Divine Justice is also Divine Love. The Law never chastens 
for the sake of punishment or revenge. Its operations always tend to promote 
the welfare of mankind in the most charitable way. Remembering that there is 
one mind common to all, that all mankind is one in the Oversoul, we should be 
able to understand that the Oversoul is carrying the whole burden of the sins 
of all, the collective Karma of the world, and that any individual man has to 
carry just that amount which is allotted to him by the Law of Divine Justice and 
Compassion, according to his power to serve, and for the promotion of the purpose 
of his soul and the souls of his fellowmen. Such is the action of the Law of 
Karma and Divine Justice. 

Nor does Vicarious Atonement clash with the evolutionary law. On the 
contrary, it is an indispensable corollary to this law. As there would be no evolu- 
tion, no growth in the physical world without the warmth of the physical sun, so 
there would be no evolution, no spiritual growth in the world of the soul without 
the power emanating from the Spiritual Sun, the Saviour of the world; without 
His infinite Compassion and Love for all. As all physical life would die and 
physical evolution stop, if the warmth of the material sun were lacking, so all 
spiritual life would cease and the evolution of souls be impossible, if the Compas- 
sion and Love of the Saviours of the world, and their co-workers, did not take 
away the overwhelming guilt of mankind, leaving only such effects to be worked 
out by man as are absolutely necessary for the promotion of his evolution in the 
wisest and most charitable way. If it were not for this Vicarious Atonement, the 
terrible burden of its sins should soon lead to the annihilation of the race in some 
such way as mentioned above, and the Divine Plan of creation would prove a 
failure. But is it possible that this plan can fail? Let us not be blasphemers. 
God has foreseen all difficulties and has provided for all. The daily creating of 
fresh causes with such effects, though sad in one sense, is yet beneficial in another, 
since they are the only means by which man can be brought to conversion, can 
be forced to learn his lesson and to give up selfishness, self-indulgence, greediness, 
lust, and all those enjoyments for which his separate lower-self hungers and thirsts 
so desperately, can be driven to turn away from the heresy of separateness and 
begin to seek union. It is through individual pain and the sufferings of our fellow 
man, during a long series of incarnations, that man is finally brought to understand 
the fallacy of the doctrine that each soul is a separate creation, "the heresy of 
the belief in the separateness of soul or self from the One Universal, Infinite 
Self". Then we begin, reluctantly maybe at first, to turn our minds away from 



QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 203 

this wrong doctrine and to work for union with all other human souls in the 
Oversoul. Then we begin to tread the path of salvation, to climb the ladder of 
immortality, while the gratification of the desires of our lower separate self is 
suicidal in its nature, since it will, in the end, lead to self-destruction. This will 
happen when the boundary is past, beyond which conversion is impossible. And 
there is such a boundary, as all religions are teaching plainly enough. 

Are we so foolish as to think that we can stand alone and exhaust all the 
effects of our sins without the help of the Masters and their co-workers? Verily, 
if Divine Justice claimed that man should carry the whole burden of his sins 
alone, and that he himself should atone for it all, evolution would have been 
impossible, because only that man can do this who is far on the way and has for 
many lives been seeking the Truth and worked for union. 

But the meaning of union must be understood. It is not a sublime and pious 
striving for saving our own soul, at the same time blotting out all connection with 
our fellowmen. This course is entirely personal and selfish, and works for 
separation and not for union. It has its reward, but it is of a temporary nature 
only. Therefore, our motives must be analyzed. We, and others too, may think 
that they are based on good intention and love ; but this is not enough to make them 
good. Our intention is not good, unless it is to promote union and the welfare 
of all other souls. If there is a hidden wish present for some personal benefit, 
then it is polluted by sin, because this wish is nourishing our longing for separate 
existence. And if our Love is mingled with the desire of gaining anything for our 
personal selves, then there is no atoning power in it. But if our lives are pure 
and thoroughly unselfish, then we are adding to the power of the Vicarious 
Atonement of the Oversoul; we are then laying up treasures in heaven; we are 
acquiring possessions that "belong to the pure soul only" and are "possessed there- 
fore by all pure souls equally and thus . . . the especial property of the whole 
only when united". We are then helping to promote the union of all with the 
Oversoul, which means the liberation of man from the bondage of matter. 

If we take the trouble to consider attentively what is going on in the material 
world, we shall soon perceive that vicarious atonement is a fact even in physical 
life. Suppose that we are suffering from a gathering in one hand, or from any 
local illness. It is not only the sick or infected cells that are suffering. The 
surrounding cells suffer too and are trying to help in overcoming the disturbance. 
In more serious cases the whole body has also to suffer and to help in the restora- 
tion. And the real sufferer is the soul that has to bear all the pain that through 
the nervous system is transferred to the brain, the organ of the soul-consciousness 
on the physical plane. All members of a family suffer for the wrongdoings of 
one of their own kin. If they love their brother, they will try, not to prevent his 
punishment according to the civil law, but to help him by offering him new 
opportunities for beginning a new and better life. And they bear with him or 
ought to do so as long as there is any hope for his conversion. 

In the war now raging the welfare of the European nations is at stake; 
and the greater part of the whole human race is suffering too. We are not able 
to trace to their sources all wrong forces set in motion so abundantly that at 
last the war could not be avoided. But if we are not blinded by prejudice or 
uncritical sympathy, we cannot stand in doubt as to which of the belligerent 
nations is responsible for the outbreak of this war. And we can see plainly which 
of them are fighting on honorable and which on dishonorable principles. The 
nations that are waging this war in defence of right, freedom and honour, are 
atoning for the evil-mindedness of their adversaries. And all good and faithful 
soldiers, those fighting only in order to obey the laws of their country, as well 
as fully conscious of the noble object aimed at, as they give their lives or return 
crippled for life, are not they all atoning in greater or less degree for the sins 
of all? What a noble and elevating thing it is to be a true soldier and to defend 
the weak and oppressed against the brutalities of an unprincipled, selfish and 



204 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

imperious aggressor. Indeed, there is no higher thing to be done on the physical 
plane than to wage a righteous war. It is suggestive that the warrior caste was 
the highest caste in old India. Did not Jesus say: "Greater love hath no man 
than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends". 

And what about all the innocent civilians who have been outraged or killed 
during the war? Is it likely that they are suffering aimlessly? Surely, they too 
are adding their quota to the atoning power generated by a righteous war, and 
they will in another life have full compensation for what they have now suffered 
unduly. 

The nations that are fighting on right and honorable principles, though they 
are atoning for their own shortcomings too, are certainly taking upon them a 
great part of the sins of their adversaries. The souls of these nations may have, 
of their own free will, resolved -to atone vicariously for the enemy, that has begun 
a rapid course on the descending arc of evolution and soon might reach the turn- 
ing point below which ascent is impossible. (And that there is such a point, all 
religions teach.) These noble nations may not be outwardly aware of the fact, 
because they have not yet developed far enough to be conscious on the soul-plane. 
But the great Leaders of the Universe and of the evolution of mankind know 
these things and can utilize them for the welfare of the whole race. 

Therefore, Vicarious Atonement, incompletely understood by the theologians, 
is not incompatible with the Law of Karma or Divine Justice; on the contrary, 
it is the unavoidable result of this Law guiding the evolution of every man as a 
unit within the One Unit, the Oversoul. It is a Universal Divine Law, immutable 
as Divinity itself. 

If we are not able to realize this Truth, may it not be for the reason that 
we are still ensnared, to some extent, in the belief in the separateness of soul or 
self from the One Universal, Infinite Self? E. H. L. 

ANSWER. Life is one and transcends the mind. It can only be mirrored in 
the mind by distortion, like the attempt to portray a sphere by two hemispheres 
on a plane surface. We look first at one hemisphere and then look from the 
opposite direction at the other, but neither is the sphere, nor are both together 
the sphere, which is a thing of a different dimensionality entirely. So with Life. 
Life is one. Karma is not Justice and it is not Mercy. We must seek the third 
point of the triangle, the point of Theosophic reconciliation. 

Karma is the Divine Will in action. It is not a kind of bookkeeping by 
heaven. Our trouble is that we misunderstand Karma, misunderstand the Vica- 
rious Atonement and misunderstand Sin. The average man, if asked to give his 
understanding of the Vicarious Atonement, would say that because Christ died for 
us, all our sins are in some way or other wiped out and forgiven. This is the com- 
mon idea, but no Church has ever taught it at any time. The truth is that evil is a 
fact. There is evil in the world and it has to be fought and checked. If in a 
battle a regiment runs away, leaving a gap in the line, some other regiment has 
to atone, to throw itself into the gap and check the inrushing enemy. Our 
tendency is to regard a sin once committed as something that is single and over 
and done with. The fact is that it is continuing, and it is neither over nor done 
with until it has been repented of and reparation made. We ought to think of 
the sin as a flowing force like the enemy pouring through the gap left by the 
beaten troops until checked by the act of atonement of the other regiment. When 
we sin the Master may check the evil force for us until we come to do it our- 
selves and so relieve Him. When our wills have been overpowered by evil it is 
always His force given us by Him that furnishes us with the added power 
necessary to enable us to win the next time. E. M. 

ANSWER. A question similar to this was answered most illuminatingly by Cave 
in the QUARTERLY, January, 1917. 



QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 205 

ANSWER. Love means, among other things, self identification with the object 
loved. That is one reason why love is practically synonymous with suffering, 
though that kind of suffering is the opposite of the kind which most people ex- 
perience, which, if not synonymous with self-pity, is in any case the product of 
attention to self. True suffering, springing as it does from love, feels the sins of 
another as its own; the failures of another as its own. And because there is no 
separateness in nature, those who have won the ability to suffer in that way, have 
also won the ability in widely varying degree to atone for the sins of others. 
Ask any real mother 1 

It should not be assumed, of course, that "atonement" means a wiping out 
of consequences, which is a misunderstanding of the doctrine. Here again, any 
real mother, and of her own experience, can tell you just how much the atone- 
ment of her love and suffering can accomplish. Incidentally we shall be glad 
when Karma, one of the basic laws of life, ceases to be regarded as a commercial 
transaction, or as a problem in mechanics. God is the supreme Poet. The 
universe, and everything that happens in it, is part of a Divine romance. What 
men call "poetic justice" is the only kind of justice which interests spiritual beings, 
is the only justice for which they work. It is the reward of such beings who 
have attained through forgetfulness of self to be able to modify and re-direct 
the lower forces of nature which tend always to establish an "exact" and 
"scientific" adjustment of disturbed conditions, including most human actions and 
all sins. E. T. H. 

QUESTION No. 224. Why does not The Theosophical Society co-operate with 
the other societies of the same name? It does not seem to me that its attitude 
shows proper Theosophical tolerance toward them. Personally I have the feeling 
that they are all good in their general purpose but that it is a pity to tie up too 
closely to any one. 

ANSWER. Some individuals maintain a broad tolerance toward all Christian 
churches but feel that they themselves are in a lofty position of impartiality which 
makes it impossible to identify themselves with any one of these churches. Such a 
position of lofty impartiality may be maintained with apparent success for many 
years. But to some individuals, there comes, soon or late, an experience that makes 
that lofty throne totter. They are then called, not to identity themselves, but to 
lose themselves, in some organization from which they draw strength and 
consolation that enables them to meet this new occurence in their lives. S. M. 

ANSWER. This question can be answered best, perhaps, by another question, 
namely, Why do not the Christian Churches of England and America co-operate 
today with the so-called Christian Churches of Germany? Perhaps the querent 
would say Yes, why not? In that case our reply would be, Live longer 
and find out. But meanwhile you are quite right not to join any of the organizations 
to which you refer, especially The Theosophical Society to which contributors to 
the QUARTERLY belong. E. T. H. 

ANSWER. Why do not the French, English and Americans who are giving 
their lives gladly in the cause of Christ, co-operate with the Huns who also use the 
name of God? One of the first things that a student of Theosophy has to do is to 
learn to see beneath words and forms to the spirit that animates them. He learns 
that the same forms may be animated by widely divergent spirits and, on the other 
hand, that widely different forms may be animated by the same spirit. The 
Theosophical Society co-operates gladly with any organization, by whatever name 
it may be known, that is moved by the same spirit and seeks the same goal. 

J. F. B. M. 

ANSWER. This question is answered fully in The Theosophical Society and 
Theosophy by Prof. H. B. Mitchell, obtainable from the Quarterly Book 
Department, price 20 cents. 




In the Convention Report (given in the July, 1918 QUARTERLY) there was not 
sufficient space to include the Letters of Greeting. Two of these letters are so 
strikingly representative of the spirit in which we shall all hope to initiate the work 
of the present season that it seems fitting to incorporate them here. Following 
them, come a few cullings from the excellent reports of last year's work, which 
were received by the Secretary T. S. from nearly all our Branches ; these may be 
of help to other Branches as they look forward toward the work of the season 
just opening. 

LONDON, APRIL ZTH, 1918 

To the Members of The Theosophical Society in Convention Assembled: 

A further year has now passed of a stress hitherto unknown to the world, and 
greater needs have arisen for which the purpose and solace of the Truth are more 
urgently needed : may it be yours and ours to take such part and give such aid by 
our purpose and deliberations that humanity may experience the benefit. 

Here in England affairs have proceeded very quietly and steadily. We have 
gained a few members, not more than ten, and three have made the sacrifice of their 
lives in the great war. It is true that they are some of the best and most energetic, 
and their influence among those around them was felt all through, while they yet 
speak in the manner of their passing. In many instances it has not been possible 
to hold Branch meetings because of the difficulties of access to the place of meet- 
ing, because of the lighting regulations, and especially because of the difficulties 
created by the Air Raids. But it may be said that interest has in no way abated 
and has even increased by the fact that we are all compelled to contemplate the 
conditions of life and death in no ordinary fashion. 

In this way there has been aroused a very intense interest in the subject of 
spiritualism and the survival of the personality after death. Such an interest was 
intensified by the publication of Sir Oliver Lodge's book, Raymond. It is not too 
much to say that few books have been more widely read and few more strongly 
criticised. To those who live in the present, the survival of those nearest and 
dearest is of the greatest importance, for they feel that unless some such survival 
takes place they are apt to lose by death, and never find any of that which they 
held most dear. They are faced by the problem which lies between the ordinary 
heaven, whether it be progressive or not, and an abyss of nothingness. And with 
most there is still an instinctive clinging to the belief that death is not the mark 
of the final ending. Spiritualism such as that depicted in Raymond carries on the 
ordinary life. The one lost has passed into another room and is just beyond a 
thin veil which lifts at times and under certain conditions. There is something 
which gives the evidence of the immortal, they say, and so far they are satisfied. 
But have they gone far enough or have they merely gone one step and stayed 
satisfied? I think the Theosophical philosophy would tell them that they have 
only just touched on the fringe of immortal life and that the potentialities beyond 
are boundless. The old Collect directs us to "So pass through things temporal 
that we finally lose not the things eternal." In the Hindu Trimurti we have the 
Creator, Preserver, and Destroyer or Regenerator. And it is in the latter aspect 

o6 



T. S. ACTIVITIES 

that humanity sees the possibility of such regenerating change that life is made 
no longer subject to change; save that the mortal puts on immortality and wisdom 
opens out to our understanding the continuity of life. We are stated to have 
our immortality; but to be real to us we have to know it. In other words, we 
have to win our immortality and make it a part of ourselves, consciously. Thus 
the survival of the external personality, as figured in Raymond, is only a very 
short step on the way. The personality has to undergo discipline and enlargement, 
in order to be of real use in the life immortal : otherwise it would not be of any 
purpose and would be, so to say, asleep. 

Therefore it would seem that Spiritualism has not gone far enough. But per- 
haps it is not intended to go further. There is this, in addition to the well-known 
dangers which attend its pursuit, it is too close to the material side of things. 
It surely would seem to be applying the psychic forces to material conditions. 

It is in this connection that one sees the effect of this war. This very material 
efficiency which is the basis of the German "Kultur," has become the standard of 
life and conduct. Everything else is sacrificed to this end. With this comes the 
domination of self and all that this implies. So that at present the real struggle 
lies between material efficiency and its children, who are "in their day and genera- 
tion wiser than the children of light" and those who, by the sacrifice of self and 
all that they hold most dear, are striving for liberty and principle. They are 
undergoing the discipline of self-sacrifice : and, great though the sacrifice may be, 
it is on such a basis that the foundation of the true Religion and freedom of 
humanity is to be built. A. KEIGHTLEY, 

General Secretary, British National Branch. 

KRISTIANIA, NORWAY 
To The Theosophical Society in Convention Assembled: 

The Annual Convention, being the focus of the thoughts of all true members 
of The Theosophical Society, is a tremendous centre of force, whose energy asserts 
itself in all parts of the world where Branches of the Society are in activity. May 
no member to-day, by his thoughts and feelings, impair the intensity of this force. 

Over and over again The Theosophical Society has been tested as to principles, 
and"" though its rank and file thereby has been thinned, it has successfully met the 
trials, and has continued its work with faith and love, and The Theosophical 
Society is now established on a firmer foundation than ever before. Meanwhile, 
there are still trials to come, new tests subtile in their nature and difficult to stand. 
But, as Cave says : "With true faith for shield and honesty of purpose for armour 
well armed thou art, and standest ready for the direst foe." 

There is nothing that gives such strength as faith. Faith produces oneness of 
purpose and loyalty towards it. If faith is lost, strength is also lost, and the result 
is disloyalty and division of purpose. With nations this leads to inner controversies 
that may end in revolution and anarchy. 

The noble man that has the power of faith, is able to do no end of good. 
But possessed by a selfish man, or a man of a vicious nature, faith endows him 
with a fearful force for evil ends. And a nation with an illimitable faith in its 
own strength and superiority, but imperious and -of a demoniacal temperament, is 
a real danger to mankind. In war it will perform marvels and seem to be un- 
conquerable. 

And if two belligerents have such faith in themselves, it is very difficult for 
one of them to overcome the other. They may continue to fight till they drop 
their arms from exhaustion. There is only one power that can shorten the contest 
and bring victory home to the belligerent that has acquired it, viz, Faith, not faith 
in arms and one's own strength and skill, but Faith in God united with honesty of 
purpose. This Faith draws strength from the Divine World, not as a favour but 
according to the Great Law. 



208 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Nations that are using their military forces, and their skill and strength, in 
order to fight against injustice, outrage, and brutishness, giving the lives of their 
sons for the sake of their fellow-man, will assuredly gain their noble ends, if they 
have honesty of purpose and an implicit Faith in God as the only Conqueror, the 
only Giver of victory. It must be so, for this Faith is a Divine Force that no human 
skill and strength can resist. 

This is the history of every human being who is fighting for the liberation of 
his soul from the bondage of matter. Faith in God and honesty of purpose must 
indeed bring the final victory, the triumph of the Higher Nature over the lower, 
because that Faith will create loyalty, one pointed aspiration and continual effort. 
From such Faith, springs "Oblation of Self and Love of God." And "those two 
arms of unconquerable strength . . . draw God whithersoever" man will. 

May this Faith inspire the future work of The Theosophical Society and of all 
its members. 

With hearty greetings from the Theosophical Branches in Norway, 

Fraternally yours, THQMAS 



Several letters from South America tell of active life and interest on the part 
of members there. From the Venezuela Branch comes the following, after report- 
ing on the successful work of the newly founded "Jehoshua Branch" in San 
Fernando de Apure: 

In Barquisimeto, last month, there occurred an event which we consider of 
importance, both inner and outer, the Masonic Lodge gave the name of Blavatsky 
to its Library and placed Madame Blavatsky's portrait in its salon. A great 
festival followed, organized by the freemasons for the entertainment of the theoso- 
phists ; many talks then delivered, afterwards found their way into the press ; the 
meeting was well attended and by the most prominent people. Theosophy is well 
received by all the social bodies of the city. 

The Venezuela Branch, and the other Branches of this country, send fraternal 
greetings to the Theosophical Convention. United with it in heart, thought, and 
will, we desire to assist in its deliberations. You will have our best wishes that, at 
this precious moment liberation may be made assured ; that the victory foretold by 
Krishna may be realized, and that all shadows may be swept before the light of that 
true Spirit which is to be spread over the world. 

The report of the Branch in Altagracia de Orituco contains the following among 
many interesting items : "In August last, the President of this Branch addressed 
a letter to its members, reminding them of their obligation to the cause of Brother- 
hood and the opportunity afforded us by the war whose real spiritual meaning 
is recognized by most of the people here to show our everlasting faith in the 
Master's Cause, a Cause upheld and fought for by the Allies and which members 
of the T. S. must also fight for in the place where our duty is to be fulfilled." 

The "Pacific Branch," in Los Angeles, gives this account of Branch activities 
there : 

We hold public meetings every Sunday evening, the subject to be discussed* 
having been advertised the day previous in an evening paper among the religious 
notices. Each meeting is opened by a different member in rotation, each selects 
his own subject. On the Monday following, a synopsis of what is said by the first 
speaker is embodied in a short article which is published in a morning newspaper. 
The public attendance at our meetings has been encouraging. We have a circu- 
lating library of all the standard books, and the meeting room is kept open every 
day in the week, to receive visitors and to loan books. We have the QUARTERLY 
in the main and circulating libraries in this city and Pasadena, and on sale in book 
stores. Some few of us have permanent correspondents in Theosophical matters 
as related to the devotional life. In addition to this some of us are working 
independently on the outside in a personal way. 



CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM 

CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM, the Editor-in-Chief 
of the THEOSOPIIICAL QUARTERLY, is dead. He 
died on Monday afternoon, December 30th. 

"The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: 
blessed be the name of the Lord." 




JANUARY, 1919 

The Theosophical Society, as such, is not responsible for any opinion 
or declaration in this magazine, by whomsoever expressed, unless con- 
tained in an official document. 

THE GREAT WAR AND THE GREAT INITIATION 

READERS of the THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY who are acquainted 
with the Bhagavad Gita have been struck, again and again, with 
the likeness between the events portrayed in that most martial 
of Scriptures and the happenings of the World War : the oppos- 
ing armies, drawn up in battle array; on the one side, Arjuna and his 
brothers; on the other side, the forces of the Kurus. The one army, 
Arjuna and the Pandus, ill-equipped and poorly organized; the other 
army, the Kuru forces, magnificently ranged in order so strong as to fill 
even Arjuna with dismay, so that, valiant warrior though he was, he sank 
down broken-hearted in his chariot, ready to give up the fight ; the typical 
"defeatist" of the Kurukshetra field. 

Here are the prototypes of the armies of the Allies and of Germany, 
as they faced each other on the new Kurukshetra, the battle plains of 
France and Flanders. And, to complete the parallel, with the armies of 
the Pandu Allies was Krishna, the Avatar, the plenary Incarnation of the 
Logos, the visible representative of the Lodge of Masters, Supreme 
Agent, for that decisive war, of the invincible White Lodge; inspiring, 
dominating, leading, as the White Lodge, through its present Agents, has 
dominated the present war. 

It would be of high value to push the comparison in detail, for this 
comparison would bring into relief the spiritual forces in the present war; 
while, on the other hand, since the details of recent fighting are fresh 
and living in our minds, it would give to the doings at Kurukshetra a new 
reality and significance. But there is another aspect of the matter that 
is still more vital. The Bhagavad Gita has, without doubt, as its first 
nucleus, a cycle of war-ballads, dating, in all likelihood, from the days 
of the contest itself, and thus presenting an authentic record of that 
momentous struggle. But the Bhagavad Gita is something more than a 



212 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

"war book" of Ancient India ; it is a "war book" also of another sort, a 
Scripture of the eternal spiritual warfare, the conflict of the Soul with the 
Powers of Evil. The original nucleus of war-ballads has been taken 
and worked over by those who were masters of these high themes. It 
has been so remodelled and dramatized, in the light of the authentic 
experiences of those who had passed through the eternal conflict and won 
the victory, that it represents, not only a history of the battle of Kuru- 
kshetra, but a history also of the supreme mystery, which has been called 
the Great Initiation. 

The best explicit account of that mysterious ceremony, which is, at 
the same time, something far more than a ceremony, is, perhaps, that 
which is contained in the closing dramatic chapters of The Idyl of the 
White Lotus. That account, tradition says, was dictated to an Initiate, 
by a still higher Initiate, a Master. The Idyl of the White Lotus, so far 
as the writing of it is concerned, was begun by a candidate for disciple- 
ship, who, later, strayed far from the true path into the dangerous 
by-ways of psychism. But this candidate-disciple was unable to complete 
the task of writing down what the Master, who inspired the story, dic- 
tated ; the work, therefore, was taken up by H. P. Blavatsky, who wrote 
the concluding chapters under the direct guidance of the Master who 
later inspired the golden sentences of Light on the Path. 

Those who know The Idyl of the White Lotus will remember and 
those who do not would be well-advised to ascertain that the candidate 
for the Great Initiation passed, as a preparation for it, through great 
trials, great temptations, through grave moral failure and valiant spiritual 
recovery ; until the point was reached for the final and decisive struggle 
between that disciple's Soul and the mighty and arrogant Forces of Evil. 
When the disciple, having passed through the earlier trials, with many 
failures and many brave recoveries, saw clearly the impending contest 
and determined to enter it to overcome or die the hour for the Great 
Initiation struck. The scene that follows is one of great splendor and 
solemnity, a high water mark in theosophical literature, containing sen- 
tences that every student of Theosophy should know by heart; should, 
indeed, inscribe upon the tablets of his heart, against the trials of the 
Great Day. 

There appear to the candidate for Initiation the Souls of those who 
have already passed through the gates of the death of self into the world 
of the Eternal, and the candidate enters into reverent communion with 
them. This scene, it is said, represents the central fact of the Great 
Mystery, in which the Soul of the candidate is united with, and shares 
the full consciousness of, not only his own immediate Guru or Master, 
but also of that Guru's Guru, of the greater Guru above both, of all the 
Masters on that ray, in ascending series, up to, and beyond, the holy 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 213 

portals of Nirvana ; sharing, thus, during the ceremony of Initiation, the 
full consciousness of the Logos, the host of the Dhyan Chohans. Dur- 
ing the ceremony, it is said that full sunlight of splendor irradiates the 
disciple's consciousness, so that he perceives even his final goal, the high- 
est conceivable attainment in the life of the Eternal. But, when the cere- 
mony is ended, there is a sudden narrowing of the horizon: the disciple 
now sees only that part of the path which is immediately before him ; his 
consciousness is limited to a clear vision only of his proximate goal 
with the terrible toil, the hard trials which must be overcome, before that 
proximate goal is reached. When that new victory is won, after pro- 
longed and courageous fighting, there will dawn the holy day of a new 
Initiation, a new and plenary revelation of the splendid vision of the 
Eternal. And thus, by arduous step after step, the mountain of the 
Eternal will be climbed. 

This same vision of the Eternal is the theme of the central episode 
of the Bhagavad Gita, when Arjuna, after many heart-breaking trials, is 
vouchsafed the revelation of Krishnu's everlasting Being; is caught up 
into the vast and splendid spiritual life of his Master, and, through that 
Master, becomes one, for the time being, with the full consciousness of 
Avalokita-Ishvara, the august life of the Logos manifested, which, in the 
mystical language of the Himalayan Schools, is called the Host of the 
Dhyan Chohans. It would be profitable, perhaps, to study these great 
and mystical chapters of the Bhagavad Gita precisely in this light : as an 
unveiling of the mystery of the Great Initiation, and of its central event, 
the blending of the consciousness of the disciple with the full conscious- 
ness of that disciple's Master, and, through the Master's consciousness, 
with the plenary consciousness of the Logos, the manifested Eternal. 
And it would be well, perhaps, clearly to understand that this blending 
is possible solely because the Soul of the disciple is, in the ultimate analy- 
sis, one with the Logos ; the Great Initiation rests on that supreme dogma : 
"the identity of all souls with the Oversoul." The Great Initiation is 
simply the revelation of that already existent reality, bringing into the 
consciousness of the disciple that supreme and ultimate oneness, which 
has been from all eternity ; the fundamental reality, through which alone 
that Soul, that disciple, has real and spiritual Being. Therefore the Great 
Initiation, while it is a ceremony, is also far more than a ceremony. It is 
the revelation of the final spiritual reality, the great and everlasting rock 
on which the Universe rests. 

But if the Bhagavad Gita, and the conflict which it depicts, be a 
representation of the Great Initiation; and if there be a deep and funda- 
mental likeness between the war at Kurukshetra and the great World 
War, through which all the more vital nations of the world have passed; 
then it would seem to follow that there must be certain deep and close 



214 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

relations between the World War and the mystery depicted in the 
Bhagavad Gita, the mystery of the Great Initiation. 

And, as we look closer into the World War, we shall see the analogies 
multiply; the fundamental likeness stands out clear. There were the 
preliminary temptations, humiliating failures, valorous recoveries. There 
was the supreme vision of the Eternal, of the Logos, the Lord, as the 
true combatant. And it would seem that not so much the individual 
leaders, or even disciples in the Allied armies, were the candidates in this 
Initiation; but rather the collective soul, the logos, of each of the allied 
nations. It is quite true that there were individuals such a one, per- 
haps, was Marshal Foch who quite clearly recognized, each his own 
Master, as Protagonist in the conflict, and with full consciousness united 
his will to the will of his Master, throughout the struggle. So, perhaps, 
we may think that, if, among the large contingents sent from India, there 
were disciples, these men may have consciously and quite rightly recog- 
nized the leadership of Masters of the Indian Lodge ; so also with forces 
from Egypt, or from territories within the sphere of influence of the 
Far Eastern Lodges. 

Yet it would appear to be true that, if these possible exceptions be 
excepted, the real candidates in the Great Initiation of the World War 
were the logoi of the Allied nations, their collective souls. And if this 
be true, and it is well worth considering, as a good hypothesis, then we 
shall have a new clue, and one of the highest value and interest, to the 
purpose of the Lodge of Masters, in allowing the World War to take 
place, and in guiding it as they did. We may in this way gain a most 
valuable insight into the further elements of that purpose, as it affects 
the time to come. 

There is one prospect which it is of the utmost importance clearly 
to see and understand. In what was said of the tradition of the Great 
Initiation, it appeared that, after the solemn ceremony is ended, there 
remains in the consciousness of the candidate, no longer the clear vision 
of the Eternities, the immensity of the Supreme Soul, but rather a strictly 
limited view of the proximate goal, the next immediate objective of that 
disciple's effort, the task immediately in hand ; yet with the haunting 
presence of the greater vision, as a well-spring of perennial inspiration. 
But, in the concrete, there is a clear view only of difficult problems, of 
serious dangers, of grave trials and temptations. And tradition affirms 
that these temptations must be immediately faced and fought. And here 
lies the gravity of the danger: of our own danger, as members of the 
Allied nations, the logoi of which took part in this Great Initiation. 

Perhaps the most formidable danger, as it is the most subtle tempta- 
tion, is vanity. Let each of us look well to this, seeking to clothe 
ourselves in the armour of humility. But there will be also abundant 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 215 

temptation to the latent materialism in each one of us, and to all the per- 
suasive passions and appetites in us, by which that materialism expresses 
itself. Temptations, also, of cowardice, suspicion, unfaith ; all the bat- 
teries of the lower self and the Powers of Evil. Let us not, because of 
this, suffer the least discouragement ; nor for a moment lose the haunting 
memory of our vision; for the instant incidence of these temptations 
shows this and this alone: that we have already begun the inevitable 
contest, the necessary advance, toward our proximate goal. The trials 
on the way are our best guide-posts. And, if we fight our way valiantly 
forward, and win that goal, this will mean victory and a still more splen- 
did regaining of our vision of splendor, a new and higher Initiation into 
the Eternal Good. 



A man that looks on glass, 

On it may stay his eye; 

Or if he pleaseth, through it pass, 

And then the heav'n espy. 

George Herbert. 



FRAGMENTS 



MEN said the War was over. And I wondered! 
The end had come so swiftly; I was confused, be- 
wildered, it did not seem to have ended. 

Instead of the roar of guns there was silence. No shells 
were screaming. The birds flew overhead undisturbed. 

There was nothing but that silence apparently, a dreadful pall of 
silence that covered one knew not what. I was confused, bewildered. 
I waited, anxious, suspicious. 

Across the waste of desolate country I saw two angels passing. 
Brothers, I cried, men say the War has ended. 

They looked at me and at one another ; their eyes were red with weep- 
ing. Then, seeing my trouble, with tender compassion one said: Men 
live in a world of shadows ; they see a dream for a fact, and a truth for a 
fancy. They soared to heights of valour, but they did not perceive the 
issues. Now their hearts are weary. Have patience with them and take 
courage. Christ and His hosts are still fighting ; the battle wages fiercely. 
We go to join them; and all the dead are fighting. Help with your 
prayers and your strivings. The end is yet far off. CAVE. 



VANITY 



THE dictionaries define vanity, pride and conceit in substantially 
the same words. Stormonth says vanity is "empty pride inspired 
by an overweening opinion of one's own importance" ; pride is 
having "an unreasonably high opinion of one's own superiority" ; 
conceit is "having too high an opinion of one's self." Webster's defini- 
tions are so nearly identical that it is obvious that Stormonth must have 
copied them. Webster says vanity is "empty pride inspired by an over- 
weening conceit of one's personal attainments." 

There must be a difference between these faults, and perhaps an 
effort to analyse them may be useful in self-examination. 

The devotional books have much to say about pride, which they use 
to cover what is usually called vanity as well as the objectionable charac- 
teristics which are more properly classified under pride. There are some 
fine qualities which are called pride, and are quite properly so called. We 
are describing desirable possessions when we speak of a man's pride of 
birth, his pride in his country or race, his pride in his family traditions ; 
all those feelings which compel him to live in accordance with a high 
standard of integrity and honour. The saint must have this kind of pride ; 
the pride that makes it impossible for him to do anything that is mean, 
or trivial, or useless, or vulgar, or ignoble ; the pride that is content with 
nothing less than the highest possible achievement ; the pride that insists 
upon perfection of detail in every performance ; or the pride that scorns 
love of comfort, or self-indulgence, or any kind of weakness, emotion, or 
sentimentality. 

Let us, however, try to analyse the wrong kind of pride, and let us 
distinguish if we can between pride, vanity and conceit. There is some- 
thing big about even the wrong kind of pride. The reason why we have 
an unduly high opinion of our own accomplishments, is not because we 
do not have the accomplishments, but because we give a false value to 
them. It would be vanity if the illusion consisted in attributing accom- 
plishments to ourselves which we did not possess. 

Pride is to value unduly a quality or attainment which we really do 
possess. 

Vanity is to be under the delusion that we possess a quality or attain- 
ment that we really do not possess. A beautiful woman may be proud 
of her beauty. A vain woman thinks she is beautiful when she is not. 
Conceit is fatuous self-praise which we give ourselves, either for the 
things we are proud of, or vain about. There is something contemptible 
and unclean about it. Another distinction is this. A beautiful woman 
may be proud of her beauty without over valuing it. If she over values 



218 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

it, she is conceited. If she isn't beautiful, but thinks she is, she is vain. 
Vanity includes conceit, but does not include pride. A really proud person 
would scorn to be vain. 

Still another distinction is this. Pride is a matter of what we feel 
about ourselves. Conceit is the evidence we give others of having too 
high an opinion of ourselves. Vanity is a question of what we want 
others to think of us. There is an element of self in all three; inflated 
self in pride, distorted self in conceit, and deluded self in vanity. We can 
be proud of our cleverness and be clever enough not to show it. Or we 
can be conceited about it, which means that we do show it. Or we can 
think ourselves clever while really we are not, in which case we are vain. 
A vain person cannot hide his vanity, for he is pretending to something 
he does not possess. Very stupid observers might call him conceited, 
because they thought he really had what he pretended to have, but he 
would be vain in fact. 

Self-deception and self-delusion are .carried so far by all of us that 
sometimes we are conceited when we ought to be called and really are 
vain ; that is, we pretend so hard that we are something we really are not, 
and have done it so long, that we finally plume ourselves upon an attain- 
ment which we really do not possess, and we become conceited about it. 
People are proud of being proud, while really they are only vain and do 
not know it. That sounds subtile, but is rather common. 

Pride is the defective operation of a virtue, which perhaps may be 
defined as Humility. Vanity is its polar opposite. Every spiritual qual- 
ity has its defective operation or negative aspect, and its polar opposite. 
A defective operation or negative aspect of a virtue is a fault. Its polar 
opposite is a sin. 

VIRTUE FAULT SIN 

Love Indifference Self-love 

Loyalty Partiality Treachery 

Courage Timidity Cowardice 

Bravery Recklessness Fear 

Patience Insensibility Irritability 

Sympathy Coldness Cruelty 

Sin is undiluted lower nature. A fault is some impulse or force of 
higher nature which has been distorted by lower nature. Vanity is com- 
posed wholly of lower nature. There is nothing in it anywhere that can 
redeem it. It is of the devil and must be killed out. Pride can be puri- 
fied, for it is based on a fact ; vanity cannot, for it is based on delusion. 

Strictly speaking, love is not a quality or virtue ; it is a combination 
or synthesis of virtues, and is the essence of spirituality. Self-love like- 
wise is not a single fault, but is the essence of lower nature the per- 
sonality. It is the essential quality of the devil, of the Black Lodge. 
Love makes a saint, self-love, if carried too far, makes a devil. 



VANITY 219 

Vanity, then, is not only despicable, but is dangerous, for it par- 
takes of the nature of the devil ; it is essentially evil. Furthermore, it is 
extraordinarily subtle, far reaching and deep seated. It is the sin which 
most often undermines and weakens all our efforts to be good, and it 
operates in countless different ways. If a proud person is scolded, the 
scolding does him no good, for it pours off his mind like water off a duck's 
back. His pride makes him impermeable, or, if the conditions are differ- 
ent, it may make him angry ; it "hurts his pride." But when a vain person 
is scolded, he is either grieved, or resentful, or sullen. A person may be 
too proud to make excuses, but a vain person always excuses himself, at 
least to himself, if not outwardly. His mind will keep busy for hours 
after a scolding, justifying, excusing, denying, explaining, resenting, and 
often making counter accusations. Vanity is at the root of all disloyalty, 
of thought or deed. 

Vanity is the antithesis of humility, "that underlying virtue without 
which all other virtues are spurious" ; and just because humility must 
underlie all other virtues, so vanity must underlie all other faults. Of 
course, no one would ever commit a sin if he were not vain enough to 
think he knew better than God what was good for him. 

We sometimes hear the expression, "harmless vanity," by which we 
seem to mean that in a world where most people are objectionably vain, 
we occasionally come across some evidence of vanity which we look upon 
good naturedly. 

While this article was being written, the writer's son came into the 
room in ajiew suit of clothes. After he had gone out, a friend remarked 
that he looked very well. The writer instantly and automatically said, 
"Yes, I took him to the tailor, selected the cloth and supervised the meas- 
urements." The friend, who knew the writer was working on an article 
on "vanity," looked amused and mildly suggested that the writer analyse 
his last remark. It was sheer vanity. It had, and could have no other 
purpose in the world than self-glorification. The writer wanted the credit 
for the nice clothes, for the good taste, for any praise of any kind that 
was passing around. The friend was good enough to add that it was 
quite a characteristic remark. It was appalling to realize that that was 
true. The writer acknowledged that the remark was prompted by vanity, 
he called it harmless vanity, and added that every one did and said things 
like that all the time. The friend pointed out that there was no such thing 
as harmless vanity, and that the final refuge of the vain man, detected 
in a fault, was to comfort himself with the reflection that all the world 
had the same fault ! It certainly is an insidious sin. 

The Zoroastrians have a suggestive legend about the contest between 
the principle of good, Ahura Mazda, and the principle of evil, Angra 
Mainyu, which is here condensed from March, 1891, number of Lucifer. 
The first made all good and beautiful things, the second systematically 
spoiled the work. He gave roses thorns, gave fire smell and smoke, and 
introduced death into the world. The one made useful and clean animals, 



220 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

the other wild and bloodthirsty beasts. "It is thine envy," said the Holy 
One to the evil-hearted fiend, "thou art incapable of producing a beauti- 
ful and harmless being, O cruel Angra Mainyu." 

The arch fiend laughed and said he could, and forthwith he created 
the loveliest bird the world had ever seen. It was a majestic peacock, the 
emblem of vanity and selfishness, which is self -adulation indeed. 

"Let it be the King of Birds," quoth the Dark One, "and let man 
worship him and act after his fashion." 

From that day the peacock became the messenger through which the 
arch fiend is invoked by some and propitiated by all men. 

"How often does one see strong-hearted men and determined women 
moved by a strong aspiration toward an ideal they know to be a true one, 
battling successfully, to all appearance, with Angra Mainyu and conquer- 
ing him. The external selves have been the battleground of a most ter- 
rible, deadly strife between the two opposing Principles; but they have 
stood firmly and won. The dark enemy seems conquered ; it is crushed 
in fact, so far as the animal instincts are concerned. Personal selfishness, 
that greed for self only, the begetter of most of the evils, has vanished ; 
and every lower instinct, melting like soiled icicles under the beneficent 
ray of Ahura Mazda, has disappeared, making room for better and holier 
aspirations. Yet, there lurks in them their old and but partially destroyed 
vanity, that spark of personal pride, which is the last to die in man. 
Dormant it is, latent and invisible, to all, including their own conscious- 
ness, but there it is still. Let it awake but for an instant, and the seem- 
ingly crushed out personality comes back to life at the sound of its voice, 
arising from its grave like an unclean ghoul at the command of the mid- 
night incantator. Five hours nay, five minutes even of life under its 
fatal sway may destroy the work of years of self-control and training, 
and of laborious work in the service of Ahura Mazda, to open wide the 
door anew to Angra Mainyu." (H. P. B.'s comment, not verbally 
quoted. ) 

How may we best attack the sin of vanity ? What practices can we 
follow to eradicate this insidious and corrupting evil from our hearts? 
The immediate answer is simple. We have been told repeatedly that 
when we want to conquer a fault the best method is not to make a direct 
attack upon it, but to cultivate the opposite virtue. Humility, as we have 
seen, is the opposite of vanity, therefore our real task is to acquire 
humility. 

A valuable analysis of the subject by another student is as follows: 

The truth seems to be, that all life, and, above all, all spiritual life, 
comes to us from above, as a gift from our Master, as, indeed, an undi- 
vided part of the Master's life and substance. 

So long as we aspire, reverently sending the current of our aspiration 
upward, the Master can give us life (both natural and spiritual) from 
above, as a return current. 



VANITY 221 

But, when we turn the current of aspiration, not toward the Master, 
but toward self, the personal self, then we check the Master's power to 
give us life. If our self-worship were complete, this would mean, and 
cause, inevitable death, since no more life could be given to us from above. 
But we appear to mix self-worship with worship of the Master, thereby 
making our aspiration impure, and degrading the gift of life the Master 
has given us, and is giving us. 

Our remnant of aspiration (itself a gift of the Master, because it is 
the reaction toward the Master of that part of his life with which he 
originally endowed us, thereby giving us life) continues to draw down 
on us the Master's gifts, of the substance of his life; which our impurity, 
our self- worship, continues to degrade. 

Speaking truly, I can perceive no power of insight or energy in 
myself (and this includes, besides thought and will directed toward 
spiritual things, also all insight and energy directed to temporal and 
secular work, and all physical energy also) which is not the direct gift, 
imparted from himself by the Master ; and I can see no power, of insight 
or energy, which I have not degraded, by taking it to myself, by self- 
worship. The first step in Vanity seems to concern oneself: to be the 
pleasure one takes in saying to oneself : "/ have these powers ; I am clever, 
able, keen, strong, eloquent, handsome, and so on." The second step con- 
cerns others. I get my pleasure in having other people think (or in per- 
suading myself that they think) that I am clever, able, eloquent, hand- 
some. And at this point, dishonesty becomes more manifest, for I am 
quite willing to trick people into believing me even cleverer, abler, than 
I believe myself to be. In reality, however, this willingness to deceive 
others does not in fact deceive them; for they say to each other (and, if 
they have a sincere regard for me, they say also to me) that I am con- 
ceited, insufferably vain. 

But Vanity probably never stops at Vanity. Its central principle, 
self-worship, is, in fact, the fundamental principle of evil, and can, 
and probably will, lead to any and all evil, to dishonesty, treadhery, 
uncleanness. 

I think that this fashion in which Vanity steals the Master's gifts and 
life-force is what is meant by the words : "All that ever came before me 
are thieves and robbers." (John, 10, 8.) 

Perhaps the Master, looking down on us with compassion, has been 
watching this evil process of degradation taking place within us ; yet has 
seen that there is still some small part of the life he has given us, still 
uncorrupted in us, acting as aspiration, though impure aspiration ; and, by 
virtue of this remnant of his original gift, he sees that there is still the 
possibility of helping us. Or perhaps he can help us in virtue of his 
goodness and grace alone. 

At any rate, seeing us wrapped in our evil delusion, he will try, at 
first (and this is my own experience), to awaken some spark of humility, 



THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

acting both directly, through his own radiant light, and indirectly, through 
his servants, who may have affection and regard for us; he will first, 
therefore, try, with passionate longing, to make us see for ourselves the 
evil and shame of Vanity, and how miserably we are its slaves ; to show 
us the beauty of Humanity, and how completely we lack it. 

If he succeeds in kindling even the smallest spark of Humility, then 
I think he will cherish it with loving care, until it grows to a fire, able to 
burn up Vanity. But if all his efforts, immediate and mediate, fail to 
awaken in us any shame or Humility, then he is powerless, and can only 
wait until we bring ourselves into disaster and disgrace, through the 
inevitable action of the dishonesty and uncleanness of that self-worship, 
of which Vanity is the mental expression. 

So we come, through disaster and disgrace, to a burning sense of 
shame, to extreme humiliation, which is, in truth, the Master's most 
precious gift, and the one which costs him the bitterest sacrifice, because 
he can only kindle it in us by imparting it from himself ; by tasting a far 
deeper shame and humiliation in our sin, than we ourselves are as yet 
able to feel. He must simply take the whole of our sin to himself and 
feel its full horror and hideousness as it stands contrasted with his own 
radiant purity. So we make a path of mire for our Master's feet. 

Yet I am persuaded that if, through humiliation, we at last gain 
even a grain of Humility, the Master will count his suffering and ours 
as so much pure gain ; such is his self- forgetting love. 

There seems to me to be a grave danger in this extreme of humilia- 
tion, a danger that is one reason why the Master tries so hard and so 
patiently to lead us to Humility by the gentler way of our own self- 
understanding. This danger is, that we may either obstinately set our- 
selves against confession and contrition (for full and free confession is 
a true sacrament, and the royal road to contrition), and by our obstinacy 
become obdurate ; or we may, through the bitter realization of our shame, 
be driven to despair, as Saint Catherine of Siena says. ' 

So, just at this point, I think, the Master lavishes all the riches of 
his tenderness to save us from despair and thereby begins to work the 
miracle which transforms humiliation into Humility. For I think that, 
while humiliation is the overwhelming sense of our own shame, Humility 
is something infinitely greater and more precious, namely, something of 
the Master himself, a touch, by our souls, of the Master's own nature and 
life, with its beauty, its splendour, its tender love, its self-obliterating sacri- 
fice. I think that true Humility only comes when one's entire thought 
and attention (formerly concentrated in self-worship on one's own per- 
sonality) are concentrated on, and held in, the Master, with the sense of 
his infinite, ceaseless sacrifice for us for me, personally ; with the sense 
of what my sins have cost him, in shame, in pain, in fear for my destruc- 
tion, in keenly solicitous anxiety for my salvation. 

Therefore I think that, following after such humiliation as has 
brought heart-breaking shame, the best way to seek Humility is, to seek 



VANITY 223 

the Master, as he is in his sacrifice ; by study, meditation, prayer based on 
the Passion, on the Stations of the Cross, the devotion which led to the 
foundation of the Order of the Passion. 

And it will be made abundantly clear to one, by direct experience, 
that the bent, the mental habit, of Vanity, of self -worship, is very strongly 
entrenched both in heart and mind ; that there are two tendencies in one's 
heart at the same time : the desire to seem humble, to be thought humble, 
side by side with some small element of real love of Humility; and that 
the former is just as alert, as tricky, as dangerous as ever. The war 
against Vanity is, indeed, so difficult and dangerous, that the only possible 
hope of victory, of gaining real Humility, lies in the gifts of the Master's 
grace, so generously imparted from hour to hour, and still, after so much 
experience, so often abused. 

St. Bernard says that "There are two kinds of humility, that of the 
mind or understanding, by which, reflecting on his own misery and base- 
ness, a man comes to despise himself, and esteem himself worthy of being 
despised ; and that of the will, by virtue of which he desires to be despised 
and humbled by every one." "Without humility of the understanding, that 
of the will cannot be acquired," comments Father Lasance. He further 
says, "Humility of the understanding consists in esteeming one's self as 
sinful as one really is." "A true self-knowledge begets humility." All 
the good in us comes from the Master, and we owe it to Him. The 
humble man keeps this truth ever before his eyes, and therefore does not 
praise or glorify himself. He remembers that he is responsible for his 
sins, for having distorted and soiled the powers given him by his Master, 
and that all that is good in him is not himself, but the Master. Love of 
God and contempt of self are the foundations of a holy life. 

Powers and graces are not causes of pride, if we remember their 
source. We pervert them the moment we consider them our own. At 
that instant self, and therefore evil, enters in. If I have a good memory, 
my attitude should be that the Master was very good to share His memory 
with me to the extent that he has, and that I have been a faithless and 
unprofitable servant to have trained His gift so badly, and to have used 
it so much for my own gratification, instead of for His work and as He 
would have had me use it. 

The second practice of Humility is to remember that without the 
Master's constant help we can do nothing, literally nothing. We are but 
helpless puppets in the grasp of the titanic forces of nature. Not one of 
us could survive in the simple struggle for bare existence if it were not 
for the help we receive. We could not obtain food, or shelter, or clothing 
for ourselves and our families. Everything, even the air we breathe, the 
water we drink, the ground we walk on, the food we eat, the clothes we 
wear, we owe to a higher Power than any we can wield. True, we plant 
corn and cotton, and we speak of "raising" cattle, but could we make them 
grow? Do we make them grow? We can make an egg hatch out a 
chicken, but can we make an egg? Always at the basis of everything, 



224 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

even our elementary physical necessities, there is a free gift from the gods 
without which we should perish off the face of the earth, and probably 
out of existence altogether. 

And in higher things it is equally true. How soon did Peter stultify 
his proud boast when left to himself ? "Even though I should die, I will 
not deny thee." Just on the fringe of each one's life is a vast realm of 
possibilities, all beyond our knowledge and beyond our control, and any 
one of which would engulf us. 

Thirdly, if you fall, get up and go on bravely and uncomplainingly. 
Impatience with yourself indicates want of humility. It is in a time of 
temptation and sin that you must trust and rely more than ever upon the 
help of the Master. Sin should lead to contrition and humility, therefore 
we may make our very sins rungs in the ladder up which we climb to 
Heaven. And remember never to treat another sinner with disdain or 
contempt. "Instruct such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering 
thyself, lest thou also be tempted." 

Another excellent practice of humility is never to prefer one's self 
to another. Let us think of our own sins, our own weaknesses. We 
know them. We do not know another's. We do not know how many 
hidden virtues he may have. We know that if we had made good use of 
ours, we should be saints. We know how much help we have received 
and that we sin in spite of it. We do not know what help any other does 
receive. In our shoes he might be a model of holiness. In his shoes we 
might go straight to hell. 

Father Humphrey says, "Humility is not self-depreciation, or a mak- 
ing one's self out to be less than one is, or worse than one is. Humility 
is simply the clear conscious knowledge, the abiding and vivid recollection, 
the practical recognition and confession that one . . . has a Creator," 
from whom comes, not only all that one has, but also all that one is. 

All this includes humility of the understanding. Humility of the will 
is greater and more meritorious. It is also more difficult, for it involves 
practice instead of precept. St. Bernard says that humility of the will 
consists of three degrees: first, that one has no desire to be placed over 
others; second, that he desires to be subject to others; third, that in a 
state of subjection he bears in tranquil manner every offence that may be 
heaped upon him. The fruit of humility is obedience. 

The biographies of the saints are full of illustrations of the manner 
in which they carried out these precepts. They made humility a living 
power in their lives. It was the root of their virtues, just as love was the 
sap which nourished their powers. Holiness does not flourish in an 
atmosphere of worldly honour and wealth, but in an atmosphere of subjec- 
tion, contumely and abuse. "Blessed are ye when they shall revile you, 
and persecute you, and speak all that is evil against you." "Learn of me, 
for I am meek and humble of heart." 



VANITY 225 

The circumstances of our lives give us endless opportunities to prac- 
tise humility, but we should be wise to seek deliberately for humiliations 
if we wish to make rapid progress in the acquirement of the virtue. 
Adventitious opportunities are too often met with resistance, instead of 
quiet acceptance. Our automatic reaction to events is not humble. We 
return a blow with a blow before we remember that it should have been 
the other cheek. Therefore, he who would learn humility of the will, 
must deliberately will to be humble, and the will must be followed by 
the deed. C. A. G. 



We ought to be perfectly convinced that we never have more than 
one thing to do; that is, to keep our entire presence of mind at each 
moment, never permitting our reasonable will vain preoccupations about 
the future. Father Surin, S J. 



When our Lord strove to convert, it was always by kind looks, by 
loving words, by indulgence, which appeared to border upon laxity* 

Father Faber. 



FRENCH LITERATURE AND 
THE WAR 



THERE is a tendency in people to regard their opinion upon any 
subject they consider, no matter how briefly, as a last judg- 
ment the subject is settled and disposed of forever. This is 
the error of progressive finality. A few days or weeks or 
months expose the error of the unwise judge. But no wisdom accrues 
to such a judge with the years. He is as final in the matter he summarily 
disposes of to-day as he was ten years ago as unjust, as lacking in dis- 
crimination. The subjects of his consideration change, but not his 
error that progresses through his whole life. 

The widespread acceptance of the theory of evolution would seem a 
natural corrective of this human error. For evolution, presupposing a 
practically endless past, forecasts also, a practically endless future; it 
sets no store by Last Judgments, it sees all conditions as fluid, not static. 
Yet this error of finality manifests itself nowhere more conspicuously 
than in its interpretation of the theory of evolution; for it limits evolu- 
tion within the meanest and narrowest of economic fields, bringing all 
the effort of an endless past to the despicable anti-climax of material 
conveniences the elimination of what economists call the "poverty line." 

In considering anything connected with the Great War, we should 
wish at least to be on guard against the prevalent error. We should wish 
to see contemporary French Literature, if it were possible, against some 
background, in some long vista of perspective that would make our task 
not one of judging but of perceiving of recognizing the literature as 
part of a vast supermundane plan that extends through ages and worlds. 
There is a volume published before the war, in 1912, that may aid one 
in finding such a perspective. It is by an English scholar, Professor 
Flinders-Petrie, and its title is : The Revolutions of Civilization. Pro- 
fessor Flinders-Petrie tabulates eight distinct epochs of civilization that 
are more or less preserved in records. These extend backward to Egypt, 
ten thousand years before the Incarnation. That stretch of civilization 
we may call our middle ground; and, making a fresh start there, in 
ancient Egypt, we may further extend our perspective, and reach a true 
background in what we may call precontinental civilization the civiliza- 
tions of those early continents which had sunk beneath the ocean long 
before the present world system had emerged the traditions of which 
the Greek sage, Solon, learned from priests in the Egyptian temples. 
According to Professor Flinders-Petrie's tabulation, the time in which 
we are now living belongs to a period of civilization that began about 
450 A. D. with the collapse of Graeco-Roman life. The word "Chris- 



FRENCH LITERATURE AND THE WAR 227 

tian" would perhaps rise to most lips as the natural name for the period. 
But it is not so named by Professor Flinders-Petrie. Those who would 
urge the adoption of the name ".Christian" for our period, ought to be 
very sure of their reasons. "Christian" describes the highest civilization 
attainable by man. While our period is, in some respects, superior to 
civilizations of the past, yet, just as truly, they, in some respects, are 
superior to ours. Any one, therefore, who purposed distinguishing the 
present period by the high title "Christian," ought to be sure that the 
traits he might name as characteristic and differentiating are truly so. 
For example, would such a person name our form of government, or 
rather our method of obtaining a government, as a mark of superiority? 
If so, he would have to face the Egyptian traditions about Divine persons 
who became Rulers of Egypt in order to teach men how to live. For- 
tunately, the day has passed when such traditions could be set aside as 
"superstition." The effort to discredit such traditions was only part of 
cunning and malignant German propaganda. The purpose of this par- 
ticular propaganda was to eliminate from men's minds and lives all faith 
in the Divine, which Germany meant to replace by fear and dread of 
German might. The Germans taught that the Divine is equivalent to <the 
Supernatural, and that the Supernatural is Superstition therefore, the 
Divine is a superstition. At first, such manifestations of the Divine 
as is contained in these far off Egyptian traditions would be discarded. 
Gradually men would be accustomed to this discrediting process, and 
would toss aside the supreme manifestation of Divinity in Christianity.* 

Wide-spread humanitarianism might be named by some as a dis- 
tinguishing trait that merits the appellation "Christian" for our era. But 
such individuals should recall the gall and vinegar offered to our Lord 
on the Cross. That drink was provided by an association of Roman 
ladies to mitigate the agony of dying criminals. It is evidence of tender 
hearts in pagan Rome, as well as bloody arenas. The extension of that 
philanthropy from Rome to the obscure province of Judea would indicate 
also a wide-spread feeling for humanity. 

One conclusion to which Professor Flinders-Petrie's book inevitably 
leads is this: civilization is intermittent, not continuous. Civilization is 
not the sacrosanct thing implied by the words of many who, though 
undoubtedly patriots, deplore the overthrow and ruination to-day of 
everything man has so far accomplished. Civilization flourishes, decays, 
and gives way to barbarism. 



* The Rev. Joseph H. Odell, in the Atlantic Monthly for February, 1918, writes of German 
scholarship (so-called) : "Ordinary laymen, who have not been accustomed to the limpid sim- 
plicity of German Biblical criticism, theology and philosophy, may be pardoned for failing to 
divine the temper and trend of Teutonic thought. But every minister knows that from the days 
of Ferdinand Christian Baur . . . down to the latest word from P. W. Schmiedel, there 
has been a patient, indefatigable, and relentless effort to squeeze every possible trace of the 
supernatural from the Old and New Testaments. By the time an American scholar had fol- 
lowed his course of training ... he had not enough of the supernatural left to run a tin 
toy, let alone a universe." 



228 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

That general conclusion leads to a particular alternative that is some- 
what startling. The average length of the civilizations that have pre- 
ceded our own is fifteen hundred years. . They have been overthrown by 
barbarian forces from the outside, or by disintegrating forces within, or 
by both. As our present epoch dates from the year 450 A. D., it would 
reach its normal limit about the year 2000 A. D. A question forces itself 
upon us. Is the present terrific attack of Germany the recurrent bar- 
barism that has put an end to civilization in other periods? Is the good 
and the evil alike of our accomplishment doomed? Or (second alterna- 
tive), are there seeds of immortality in the present epoch that enable one 
to interpret differently this attack Germany is making? Instead of prov- 
ing a destructive whirlwind, may the present conflict be likened to garden 
cultivation pulverizing of the soil, removal of solid things, stones and 
rock, that are really worthless, in order that the seed may germinate and 
flourish? Will our epoch transform itself by virtue of its latent seed? 
Instead of barbarism, will there come, through this world-conflict, a new 
and higher civilization that will at last be truly Christian? If this be our 
glorious future, our own epoch in the course of milleniums may come 
to stand in the second place of honour, winning for itself, though not the 
name Christian, yet, at least, the designation pre-Christian. 

One hundred years ago Wordsworth was mentioning the opportuni- 
ties and vast possibilities which the French Revolution seemed to be 
opening up to men. At that time Wordsworth wrote, "to be alive was 
bliss, but to be young was very Heaven." How paltry those opportuni- 
ties of a century ago seem, compared with the promises of our future. 
The common soldiers in the trenches are teaching us what the difference 
is. Men like Dawson and Belmont would change the older poet's words 
to read to be alive is very Heaven. 

The possibility of such a future, through the self-transformation of 
this epoch, lies with France, and with those nations that, seconding the 
effort of France, make her goal, in greater or less degree, their own. 

The past and the present history of France show her as a fit instru- 
ment for such a spiritual mission to usher in a period of Christian 
civilization. France has a sense of a certain goal to life of the con- 
vergence toward that goal of efforts that, at their start, seem wide apart ; 
by reason of that convergence she sees a parity in those efforts. Re- 
ligion will serve for illustration. The common attitude toward religion 
regards it as rich and exquisite embroidery, particularly suitable for 
ecclesiastical vestments. There are other stuffs, upon which good taste 
will use this rich embroidery sparingly. There are still other fabrics, for 
which the embroidery of religion is quite unsuited such as chain mail 
and khaki. People who appreciate the loveliness of the embroidery de- 
plore its unsuitability for all stuffs whatever but what can they do? 
The world must wag on ; and in the course of its wagging, chain mail and 
khaki become sometimes necessary, alas ! In the centre of that embroid- 



FRENCH LITERATURE AND THE WAR 229 

ered design of religion is a precious pearl. That pearl is fragile. It must 
be guarded, at all costs, from the pulverizing shock of battle. The 
French do not thus regard religion. It is a pearl, they would say, and 
therefore must not be laid away in a casket. Its lustre is vital. What- 
ever the occasion and surroundings, fair linen, or horizon blue cloth, it 
must be worn worn constantly. In their judgment religion is not some- 
thing added to, or superimposed upon life. It is rather the spirit and 
attitude with which life is lived. It is the plain honesty and sense of 
duty that weaves solidly and substantially, silk or linen or mail, making 
each serviceable for its special end. Each of those special ends is one 
surface of the myriad-sided pyramid of life. The lines of that pyramid 
converge all toward one goal ; and upon all its sides equally is inscribed : 
"Holy unto the Lord." 

Let us take an example from the most difficult sphere the relation 
of things military and religious, an example from the national epic, the 
Chanson de Roland. You know the story. A treacherous foe made a 
compact (which he did not intend to keep) with the French, because this 
lying foe knew the French would hold themselves bound by their word 
and could thus be entrapped. There are twenty thousand Frenchmen 
facing many times their own number three or four hundred thousand of 
the enemy. A dozen or more great chiefs lead the French. One of these 
leaders is an Archbishop ; but he is present with the band, to fight as well 
as to bless. It is a fight from which they cannot expect to come out 
alive. The Archbishop speaks briefly before the onset is made : " 'Lords, 
barons, Charles left us here, and it is a man's devoir to die for his King. 
Now help ye to uphold Christianity. Certes, ye shall have a battle, for 
here before you are the Saracens. Confess your sins and pray God's 
mercy, and that your souls may be saved I will absolve you. If ye are 
slain ye will be holy martyrs, and ye shall have seats in the higher Para- 
dise.' The Franks light off their horses and kneel down, and the Arch- 
bishop blesses them, and for a penance bids them that they lay on with 
their swords." Mark well that last statement: "for a penance," the 
Archbishop bids them "that they lay on with their swords." There is 
an example for modern ecclesiastics to emulate. This old French arch- 
bishop was intelligent and discriminating not "confused and hesitant" 
as so many of the clergy are to-day. The Archbishop had shown zeal in 
having taught through his province the Divine Command : "Thou shalt 
not kill" he had pictured vividly the hell that awaits infraction of that 
law. On the battlefield he displays similar zeal in bidding his countrymen 
"lay on with the sword." There is not a maudlin, sentimental word in 
the passage no thought of forgiving enemies whose presence is a threat 
against God and His plans. "Chretiente est en peril."* The Saracens 
were trampling under foot those things which men hold sacred honour 
and justice unconscious for the most part that their reverence for these 



* The force of the original line is lost in the translation. 



230 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

things is a groping recognition of God's nature. The Archbishop was 
pointing out to his companions their duty to kill completely, if possible, 
God's enemies. He tells the French they will be "holy martyrs." That 
was not a band of Saints they were just ordinary men, of faults, sins, 
and vices. But the opportunity to strike a blow in God's defence (a blow 
in behalf of justice and righteousness is in behalf of God) offered the 
chance, by one great effort, to make amends for years of indifference .and 
of actual sin the chance to place themselves at last on God's side. They 
will prove the sincerity of their confession and repentance by their deeds, 
by disregard of danger and suffering as they "lay on with the sword" 
against a conscienceless foe. 

This old epic, the Chanson, embodies French feeling of a thousand 
years ago. There has been time, however, for feeling to change and 
degenerate. But it has not done so. That stirring address of the Pre- 
late is paralleled to-day in France closely paralleled by a letter quoted 
by Monsieur Maurice Bar res in one of his essays. A poilu, Joseph 
Cloupeau, is writing to his parents. Presumably he had heard some of 
the futile academic talk as to whether war is reconcilable with religion. 
This poilu is not academic and vague. He knows. "Je ne suis pas deux," 
he writes, "un chretien et un soldat; je suis un soldat chretien." That 
letter more than parallels the Chanson passage. A thousand years ago 
it required the experience and insight of a high born archbishop to per- 
ceive the unity of aim in religion and warfare. His noble companions, 
while they were resolved to perform their full duty, could not see for 
themselves all that was involved in that duty. To-day a simple poilu 
understands. 

The most commonplace material objects in France are reminders of 
the mission that is hers to lead in a Christian civilization. How many 
of those who have travelled over the French railways know why a station 
in Paris is fittingly named Gare St. Lazare Holy Lazarus Station? 
That is one of many names that commemorate a great event preserved 
also in holy places. St. Matthew relates in his 21st chapter how the 
Jews sought excuses for not heeding the Master's teaching, and His 
reply: "The chief priests and the elders of the people came unto Him 
as He was teaching, and said, 'By what authority doest thou these things ? 
And who gave thee this authority?' " The Master said in disdain : ; The 
Kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given to a nation bringing 
forth the fruits thereof.' " A legend makes it that France is the country 
so chosen. This legend, which the peasants believe, despite the efforts 
of scholars to prove it foundationless, is as follows : The Crucifixion was 
precipitated by the raising of Lazarus the Jews feared the influence of 
this restored man. and wished to give the lie to his evidence. But after 
the Crucifixion and Resurrection, Lazarus was still in the way. To get 
rid of his living testimony, he was put into an open boat, with his two 
sisters, with the Holy Mother, and with other friends, and was sent out 
to sea. The boat was guided (or, if one prefers, drifted) to the southern 



FRENCH LITERATURE AND THE WAR 231 

shore of France. The islet of the Trois Maries, at the mouth of the 
Rhone, the cave where St. Mary Magdalene spent the remainder of her 
days in prayer, these and other spots are sanctuaries of the new Holy 
Land. 

La Gare St. Lazare ! What a symbol it is. Our great English poet 
refers to 

The undiscovered country from whose bourn 
No traveller returns. 

People read and, silently, acquiesce. But the French, intelligently, 
humorously, religiously (the three adverbs are synonymous), construct 
a railway station, the Gare St. Lazare, as a concrete demonstration that 
trains for Heaven start right there in the Paris streets, and return there 
again. 

So far, good. The history and literary traditions are worthy. But 
we require more than these if our hopes for the future are to be upheld. 
If France is to lead in a higher cycle of culture, there must be evidence, 
on her part, of new perceptions of Truth, of the discovery of higher 
powers, of new planes of being which hitherto have not been attained. 
Such evidence does abound. 

Consider the national epic again, and such a justly celebrated passage 
in it as the Death of Roland, one of the great world classics. "Now 
Roland feels that death is near him, and his brains flow out at his ears; 
he prays to the Lord God for his peers that He will receive them, and he 
prays to the Angel Gabriel for himself. That he may be free from all 
reproach, he takes his horn of ivory in the one hand, and Durendal, his 
sword, in the other, and farther than a cross-bow can cast an arrow, 
through a cornfield he goeth on towards Spain. At the crest of a hill, 
beneath two fair trees, are four stairs of marble; there he falls down on 
the green grass in a swoon, for death is close upon him. . . . Count 
Roland lay under the pine tree ; he has turned his face towards Spain, 
and he begins to call many things to remembrance all the lands he had 
won by his valour, and sweet France, and the men of his lineage, and 
Charles, his liege lord, who had brought him up in his household ; . . . 
he confesses his sins and begs forgiveness of God : 'Our Father, who art 
truth, who raised up Lazarus from the dead, and who defended Daniel 
from the lions, save thou my soul from the perils to which it is brought 
through the sins I wrought in my life days.' With his right hand he 
offers his glove to God, and Saint Gabriel has taken it from his hand. 
Then his head sinks on his arm, and with clasped hands he hath gone to 
his end. And God sent him his cherubim, and Saint Michael of the Seas, 
and with them Saint Gabriel, and they carried the soul of the Count into 
Paradise." It is great by its beauty. But is it satisfactory? Has the 
poet treated his theme as you would wish him to treat it? After such 
self-sacrificing deeds do you not regret that Roland is so lonely and so 
desolate? Such a poet as Verhaeren is far more satisfactory. You 



232 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

remember Verhaeren's courageous effort to overcome the drink habit 
which had brought him to the verge of insanity. That valiant effort 
brought to Verhaeren knowledge of other heroes (what we, with inade- 
quate speech, call usually, "celestial" heroes), certainty of their sympathy 
with him and comradship. 

Ouverte en large eclair, parmi les brumes, 

Une avenue ; 

Et St. Georges, cuirasse d'or, 

Avec des plumes et des ecumes, 

Au poitrail blanc de son cheval, sans mors, 

Descend. 

Le St. Georges du haut devoir 

Beau de son coeur, et par lui-meme. 

Roland's heroism was far less self-interested than Verhaeren's. If 
Verhaeren's effort brought him knowledge of St. George, why should 
Roland be denied the sympathy and comradeship of those heroes who 
crowded around him with fraternal admiration, St. Michael, leader of the 
hosts of Heaven, and others? Why should Roland have to wait until 
he died to become aware of those individuals ? Verhaeren did not. The 
old poem is marred by the prevalent, unChristian misunderstanding that 
one reaches Heaven only after death. 

That misunderstanding begins to clear away in the War literature 
of France. For example, Captain Belmont writes home : "We love life, 
because, in spite of all, being of this world, we see with worldly eyes. If 
we knew the other life the true one which is hidden behind what we 
call death, we should desire it to the extent of detesting that which is lent 
to us for a few years." 

Then there is the incident of which Barres gives an account. It is 
familiar from sketches and accounts in the illustrated papers. A Lieu- 
tenant Pericard had been ordered to hold a trench. The attack was 
fierce. At last the Germans entered the trench as his men lay around, 
seeming dead. In desperation, he shouted : "Stand up, ye dead !" 
(Debout les morts!) The men rose, continued the fight, and the trench 
was held. Barres obtained an account of the matter from Pericard him- 
self. These are Pericard's words: "Throughout the evening and for 
several days following I remained under the influence of the spiritual 
emotion by which I had been carried away at the time of the summons 
to the dead. I had something of the same feeling that one has after 
partaking fervently of the communion. I recognized that I had just been 
living through such hours as I should never see again, during which my 
head, having by violent exertion broken an opening through the ceiling, 
had risen into the region of the supernatural, into the invisible world 
peopled by gods and heroes." The invisible world peopled by gods and 
heroes! Is not that an attractive description of Heaven? Pericard did 



FRENCH LITERATURE AND THE WAR 233 

indeed enter that new plane of life after death, but it was riot the death 
of his body. It was the Christian death of which St. Paul writes, the 
daily, hourly death to self. That death to self is the burial in baptism 
by which one becomes a Christian, and enters a new life. It is the only 
entrance to that life. Pericard says further: "As for myself, it seems 
as if I had been given a body which had grown and expanded inordi- 
nately the body of a giant, with superabundant, limitless energy, ex- 
traordinary facility of thought which enabled me to have my eye in ten 
places at a time to call out an order to one man while indicating an 
order to another by gesture to fire a gun and protect myself at the same 
time from a threatening grenade." What is this "superabundant, limit- 
less energy" of Pericard's new state, but the "abundance of life" that the 
Master incarnated to give us? 

Evidence of this kind comes from all classes and grades of men. 
One might expect that a Catholic priest would require an expression of 
faith in formal and dogmatic terms. But here is a chaplain who quite 
simply recognizes the validity of the baptismal burial of self: "Qui 
s'oublie pour ses freres, pour le service de la patrie, est bien pres du 
royaume de Dieu." Consider this passage from a diary: "Mercredi 12 
mai Les regiments qui ont etc engages depuis dimanche rentrent au 
repos. Les pertes sont considerables. Au passage, des soldats de- 
mandent des nouvelles de ceux que je connais. 'Un tel? . . . il est 
tue. Un tel ? . . . il est tue.' . . . On n'a pas pu les ramasser. 
. . . On les voit ; ils sont alignes les uns a cote des autres, devant les 
tranchees de 1'ennemi. Que de gestes heroiques a raconter! 'Ah! que 
c'etait beau ! que c'etait beau ! Jamais on ne verra rien de si beau !' me 
dit un jeune ami de la classe 14, et d'autres avec lui. On dirait pour 
eux, les survivants, que les autres ne sont pas morts !' " "On dirait pour 
eux, les survivants, que les autres ne sont pas morts." The survivors 
had entered, with the dead, into the new realm of the invisible, and had 
learned that there, life does not end with the death of the body, that the 
others, truly, are not dead. 

What is the conclusion Barres comes to, after a study of the war's 
effect upon his people? it is that through their sacrifice (death to self) 
they have been lifted (a resurrection) to the consciousness of a Great 
Presence that companions them. "Acceptation du sacrifice, sentiment 
d'une haute presence a cote d'eux, les voila le plus souvent, et s'il fallait 
une image pour les symboliser, je n'en vois pas de plus vraie que celle qui 
sort d'une phrase que Bernard Lavergne, le treizieme enfant du peintre 
verrier Claudius Lavergne, ecrit a sa famille: '. . . Ce soir, depart 
pour la tranchee. Cette nuit, je veillerai sur vous, 1'arme a la main ; vous 
savez qui veille sur moi.' " Barres continues : "Ils vivront, mais fussent- 
ils morts, la France va se reconstruire avec leurs ames commes pierres 
vivantes. Tout ce soleil de jeunes gens qui descend dans la mer, c'est 
une aube qui va se lever." Barres is not indulging in eloquence. The 
season is not favorable for forcing flowers of rhetoric. He means what 



234 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

he says. The souls of the French warriors are real. Their bodies are 
the shadow. They are the dawn "qui va se lever," the new Christian 
cycle. It is that conviction which makes possible the words with which 
M. Stephane Lauzanne ended a recent address: "France will continue the 
struggle until the men are all killed. When the men are all killed, the 
women will fight ; when the women are all killed, the children will fight ; 
when the children are all killed, the dead will fight." If France has to go 
to that extreme, the grave of her humanity will be also the grave of her 
resurrection. It is those dead, qui ne sont pas morts, with "the super- 
abundant, limitless energy" of the spiritual plane, who will obtain final 
victory. 

That is the new and valuable note in French literature a deeper and 
clearer perception of truth, the discovery of Heaven near at hand, which 
one can enter before the death of the body, provided one will die to selfish 
interests. This new experience is a debt owed to the war. It is note- 
worthy that this is the experience of so many who are not professionally 
religious, men from all the rounds of life. If a saint in a monastery were 
to record such experiences (as they have done, case after case, in our 
present century as well as in the past) many would be hindered by their 
prejudices from believing and experimenting for themselves. It means, 
among many things, a great widening of horizons a clearer recognition 
of the many-angled pyramid of life whose sides rise equally toward God. 
Even so truly spiritual a person as Madame Barat who in the 19th cen- 
tury gathered to a point the old revelations, and founded the Order of 
the Sacred Heart, even she, and spiritual men and women like her, suffer 
from the delusion that their entrance into the Master's Presence is limited 
to the Sacrament reserved on the altar. The new literature corrects that 
delusion, it shows the invisible world at hand, in life or death, the battle- 
field or the streets of Paris, open wherever, through death to self, men 
will cross its threshhold. 

The objection must be considered that our argument is based entirely 
upon letters and records of obscure individuals, which can be regarded 
as nothing more than informal literature. Such records and letters, how- 
ever, are what is prized most by the foremost literary men of France, 
such as Barres. Bourget, Bordeaux. One could say, in passing, that Bel- 
mont's letters have been likened to the Journals of the Guerins. There 
are stronger arguments than that however. 

In the closing quarter of Graeco-Roman civilization there was a 
formal and an informal literature. One can say, without risk of incur- 
ring the charge of Puritanism, that the letters and records of the New 
Testament are immeasurably more important than Vergil's work. Ver- 
gil is one of the great world poets no small thing. But he is negative. 
His mind was saddened by the evanescence of beauty. He delighted in 
the loveliness of things, only to see that beauty slip away, like winter's 
melted snow, leaving him "the heart-brake over fallen things." 
Stint lachrymae rerum, et mentem mortalia tangunt. 



FRENCH LITERATURE AND THE WAR 235 

A great artist does not introduce a new period. He crystallizes and 
summarizes the life that has preceded. It was not at the heart of the 
great Empire that the future civilization was constructed. The construc- 
tive writers who worked for the future were the fishermen of Galilee. 
Their spirit was not heart-break and tears. They were passing on to the 
world the fabric of imperishable beauty "that which was from the be- 
ginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which 
we have looked upon and our hands have handled, of the Word of Life." 

So it is, to-day, in France. The noteworthy literature is not such 
productions as Paul Girardey's, but the records of those whose death to 
self has broken through into the world that is always near at hand the 
invisible world that to them has become visible, the world peopled by 
heroes and gods, the world of the Living Christ. C. C. CLARK. 



'Only the power of God can bear us up to God." 

Archbishop Ullathorne. 



MARTIN LUTHER 



IT is seldom that there are found more radically conflicting 
opinions about one and the same person than are held by his- 
torians, and by the general public as well, regarding Martin 
Luther. This is relative not to matters of doctrine, concern- 
ing which there is bound to be more or less controversy, but with 
regard to his personal character and conduct. There is a passage in 
Heinrich Bohmer's Luther in the Light of Recent Research, which is 
significant in this connection because of the extremes of attitude which 
it represents. The author speaks of the fact that not only in other 
countries but in Germany as well, opinion is divided; everywhere people 
have had difficulty in deciding what Luther really was, whether "a 
prophet of God or a son of the devil, a father of the church or a 
gospelless heretic, a prototype of a true evangelical teacher and man 
of prayer or a great criminal, an enlightener and mighty liberator of 
the spirit or a destroyer of the last cultural harvest of Europe, a 'genius 
of the first rank' or an intellectually inferior degenerate, even a poor 
maniac, the greatest child of the German people or the Catiline of Ger- 
many . . . 'an affectionate husband, honest father, faithful friend, 
a scholar useful to the community, a good citizen' or 'a frantic beast, 
filthy hog, a vacillating turncoat, frivolous liar, shameless sensualist, 
wrathy brawler, hyperbolic Thrason (braggart), insolent Goliath, Mar- 
kolfian ribald, public seducer of nuns.' " 

Whether it be as Germany's greatest child or as her Catiline, 
Luther and his work have taken on a renewed and special interest of 
late, partly owing to the recent anniversary of the Reformation, and 
still more because of the past four years of war. While it may be 
difficult or even impossible to determine his exact status, we can with- 
out doubt come somewhat nearer the truth by going into each of the 
opposing camps, and considering his work first from the point of view 
of the Roman Catholic Church and then, as nearly as possible, from 
that of the Lutherans themselves. 

Luther was born at Eisleben, on November 10, 1483, of poor 
parents, his father being a miner. His home life and early years were 
full of the sternness and inflexible severity which are said to be charac- 
teristic of Germany today. He received a good education and entered 
the University at Erfurt in accordance with his father's intention that 
he study jurisprudence. Before long, however, he entered, quite unex- 
pectedly, the Augustinian monastery in his University town, the reason 
for his sudden decision being little more than a matter of surmise. In 
1507, he was ordained to the priesthood, and two years later, was sent 



MARTIN LUTHER 237 

to the recently founded University of Wittenberg, where he both taught 
and continued to study. The next few years saw his recall to Erfurt and 
his journeying to Rome a visit which, while it is open to some ques- 
tion, apparently had little effect in determining his subsequent career. 
The year 1512 saw him again in Wittenberg, where he was rapidly 
promoted from one office to another; he was made licentiate, then 
doctor, then member of the theological faculty in rapid succession, 
followed in a short time by his appointment as district vicar. He had 
the management of the monastery with its forty-one inmates, in addition 
to his work as lecturer on the Bible. According to his own account 
he "needed two secretaries or chancellors, wrote letters all day, preached 
at table, also in the monastery and parochial churches, was superintend- 
ent of studies, and as vicar of the Order had as much to do as eleven 
priors." He is said to have remained manfully at his post when the 
city was stricken with plague, at all times helped and consoled those 
with whom he came in contact and in all ways lived the life of a good 
priest. 

But his over-activity in outer affairs soon led to inner difficulties. 
Luther suffered from the disease familiar to many as "scruples," and 
after neglecting certain portions of his rule, notably the recitation of 
the daily Office, in order to make time for his outer work, he would 
remain for days in his cell, subjecting himself to excessive fasting and 
mortifications, all self-devised and quite independent of his confessor 
and of the rules of the Order. This led to insomnia, and even to 
threatened insanity, together with morbidness, melancholy and extremes 
of physical and mental depression. He became obsessed with the fear 
of the wrath of God. His "conviction of sin," which was a strong one, 
left him hopeless, sullen and despondent. He could see no way out. 
There was no help for man's sinfulness, since it was inherent in human 
nature as a result of original sin; neither was there any escape from 
the awful judgment; and he finally reached a state in which he declared 
he hated God. The outcome of this long spiritual struggle was his 
doctrine of justification by faith, man has no free will, and as a result 
of original sin, he and all his works are wholly sinful and depraved, 
but by faith he can be saved and by faith alone. The extreme of this 
doctrine is contained in his own words, "To you it ought to be sufficient 
that you acknowledge the Lamb that takes away the sins of the world, 
the sin cannot tear you away from him, even though you commit adul- 
tery a hundred times a day and commit as many murders." The doc- 
trine in its later modified form became a foundation stone of the 
Lutheran faith and one of its chief points of difference from Catholi- 
cism. 

It was during the time of this mental and spiritual struggle that 
Luther was stirred by the abuses connected with the sale of indulgences. 
This evil, according to some accounts, at least, had its beginning during 



238 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

the Crusades, when the Pope offered as a reward to those who took the 
Cross, the remission of all sins of whatever kind, and in the event of 
death, immediate entrance into Paradise. It was only a step from this 
to the sale of indulgences for the souls of those already dead, and then 
came the similar sale of indulgences for the sins of the living, as well. 
A particularly flagrant instance of the custom occurred in connection 
with the raising of funds for the new church of St. Peter in Rome ; and 
it was ostensibly this situation, but in reality a revolt against a number of 
other church institutions, which led Luther to draw up his famous ninety- 
five theses, challenging his fellows in the University town to one of the 
disputations so common in the Middle Ages. 

What followed is well known : the charge of heresy, the summons 
to Rome, and finally the trial before the Diet of Augsburg. During 
the beginning of this difficult period, Luther experienced several oscilla- 
tions of feeling, expressing first his entire submission to the Pope, 
"Most holy father, I declare in the presence of God I have never sought 
to weaken the Romish Church. I confess there is nothing in heaven 
or earth that should be preferred above that Church, save only Jesus 
Christ, the Lord- of all" and immediately after, denouncing in the 
boldest terms the Pope and the Papacy. By some this is regarded 
as shameless hypocrisy, but when we consider Luther's position, that 
of a simple friar opposed to the power of the Mediaeval Church, a 
certain amount of wavering is only natural. Luther was writing con- 
tinually at this time in defence of his position. His writings and, more 
important still, his disputation at Leipzig with John Eck, one of the 
leading theologians of the day, helped him greatly in evolving his theo- 
logical views. Furthermore, the trial at Augsburg and the incidents 
connected with it, showed him that he had the strong support of many 
of the German princes. Accordingly he became greatly emboldened, 
and, repudiating entirely his submission to the Pope, he denounced him 
as Antichrist. 

According to the Roman account, he joined forces about this time 
with Hutten and Sickingen, two German knights, apparently villainous 
malcontents, who, with a large following as unscrupulous as themselves, 
were plotting from their mountain fastnesses, the overthrow of the rich 
ecclesiastical princes. The whole of Germany was in a state of unrest. 
Not only was there the plotting of the lesser nobility against the domi- 
nation of the territorial lords, but in addition, there was wide-spread 
class unrest among the peasants in the country districts and the burghers 
and laborers in the towns. The fact that the new Emperor, Charles V, 
was a Spaniard, which meant in a sense the rule of a foreign power, 
was a further cause of discontent to some, and everywhere there was 
strong national feeling against the domination of Germany and the 
Germans by Italy and the Papacy. 

In such a state of affairs, Luther, ablaze himself, had no difficulty 
in starting a conflagration. He broke once and for all from the 



MARTIN LUTHER 239 

Catholic Church, denounced its whole system the priesthood, the sacra- 
ments (except baptism and the Eucharist), penance, and all ecclesiasti- 
cal forms and ceremonial worship. The Bible, being inspired by God, 
he recognized as supreme authority; justification by faith was his main 
tenet, this insuring not only forgiveness of sins but release from all 
punishment; the priesthood he declared to be universal, every Christian 
being a priest of God if he so willed. Both in written and in spoken 
appeals he called on the people to attack the Papacy, "with every 
sort of weapon and wash our hands in its blood." "The word of God 
is a sword, a war, a destruction, a scandal, a ruin, a poison." To the 
masses he spoke eloquently, dazzlingly, in their own vernacular, to the 
princes he sent written addresses, urging them to overthrow the Pope, 
abolish the existing ecclesiastical forms and seize all Church property. 
In 1520 the Bull of excommunication was issued by Rome, only 
to be met with strong opposition in Germany and published with the 
utmost difficulty, owing to the rapidity with which Luther's cause had 
gained ground. This was quickly followed by the summons before 
the Diet of Worms, his refusal to recant, and his departure from the 
town under the ban of the Empire. The "abduction" by his partisans, 
and his friendly detention in the safety of the Wartburg are too 
familiar to need mention. According to the Roman account, the year 
of outer quiet which he spent in the Wartburg was one of renewed 
inner difficulties. He was attacked by an almost ungovernable sensu- 
ality; his old scrupulosity returned, and he was filled with doubt as 
to the wisdom and right of his recent action toward the Church; he 
believed himself beset by Satan, who appeared and wrestled with him 
in most vivid reality; and finally, his hatred and animosity toward 
Rome increased till it surpassed all previous bounds. "I will curse and 
scold the scoundrels until I go to my grave. ... I am unable to 
pray without at the same time cursing. If I am prompted to say: 
'hallowed be Thy name/ I must add: 'cursed, damned, outraged be the 
name of Papists.' If I am prompted to say: 'Thy Kingdom come,' I 
must perforce add: 'cursed, damned, destroyed must be the papacy.' 
Indeed I pray thus orally every day and in my heart without inter- 
mission." 

This year was for him a year of great literary activity. During 
his stay at the Wartburg he made his translation of the New Testament 
into the German tongue, a work hailed by many as a masterpiece 
because of its importance in actually creating a German literary lan- 
guage out of a hodge-podge of dialects, and by others condemned as a 
bad, because too free, translation. During this year, also, he wrote 
his "Opinion on Monastic Orders" which practically overturned the 
moral code. "It was a trumpet call to priest, monk, and nun to break 
their vows of chastity and enter matrimony. The 'impossibility' of 
successful resistance to our natural sensual passions was drawn with 



240 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

such dazzling rhetorical fascination that the salvation of the soul, the 
health of the body, demanded an instant abrogation of the laws of 
celibacy. Vows were made to Satan, not to God; the devil's law was 
absolutely renounced by taking a wife or husband." 

During his absence, the reforms inaugurated by Luther were 
furthered at Wittenberg by leaders even more radical than he, though 
the Roman accounts claim that everything was done with his full 
knowledge and approval. Many of the Augustinians renounced their 
vows, and left the monastery, some marrying; in certain of the Churches, 
pictures and altars were destroyed and Communion was given in both 
kinds, the Elevation of the Host being omitted, Mass being read in 
German and no vestments being worn. There was considerable dis- 
turbance, shared in by clergy and students alike; the rulers were in 
duty bound to take action regardless of where their sympathies might 
lie, and a crisis threatened. Into the midst of this, Luther came, ac- 
cording to friendly accounts, because he realized that the extreme to 
which the movement had swung boded ill for its success; according 
to hostile accounts because he could not tolerate the rival leadership 
which had grown up in his absence. Whatever the reason for his 
risking a public appearance, he took hold of the situation with a firm 
hand and modified the principal innovations, though some of them 
became before long permanently a part of the Lutheran worship. 

The revolutionary tone of Luther's writings, expressing as they 
did the feeling in the hearts of the nation, and with it the fact that 
the Reformer was the son of a peasant, led the peasants to feel that in 
him they had a leader and that the time was ripe for an assertion of 
their rights. There began, accordingly, the terrible Peasants' War in 
which thousands of people were practically massacred and miles of 
German lands laid waste. Luther, quite contrary to expectation, in no 
wise favored such action ; he first wrote his "Exhortation to Peace" and 
when this proved of no avail, he wrote (as he claims by God's com- 
mand) his "Against the murderous and robbing rabble of peasants," 
urging the rulers to "slaughter the offending peasants like mad dogs, 
to stab, strangle and slay as best one can." One is reminded forcibly 
of certain German counterparts of this attitude at the present time. 
With this doctrine of suppression, he preached the absolute submission 
of individual to ruler, the effect of which is so noticeable in the Ger- 
many of today. The prince was to have unlimited power; the people 
were to be "forced and driven, as we force and drive pigs or wild 
cattle." 

In the midst of this national upheaval, he celebrated his marriage 
with Catharine von Bora, a young Bernardine nun, who with numerous 
others had recently renounced her vows and left her convent. Their 
domestic life, in the Wittenberg monastery which was later presented 
to them as their home, was apparently a happy one. In this connection 
there becomes noticeable Luther's innate coarseness and vulgarity, for 



MARTIN LUTHER 241 

his conversation concerning the most intimate details of life is such as 
could not be reproduced. His coarseness had already been painfully 
evident in many of his writings, more especially those against the 
Papacy, but, as a matter of fact, those against practically anyone 
who opposed him and his views. Perhaps the most startling illustra- 
tions of it are his poem "Emancipation," ridiculing transubstantiation 
and penance, and his "Interpretation of Two Horrible Monsters, an 
Ass Pope, and a Calf Monk." These were published with a number 
of drawings by his friend, Lucas Cranach, which have been pronounced 
the most vulgar in the history of caricature. The two pamphlets, wholly 
aside from partisan feeling as to Church or creed, must impress even 
the most religiously-indifferent as not only gross vulgarity but as the 
most shocking sacrilege and desecration. 

It was some years later that there occurred the affair of the double 
marriage of the Landgrave Philip of Hesse. The latter, a notorious 
libertine, had wearied of his wife, the Landgravine, and wished to 
marry, as well, Margaret von der Saal, one of his sister's ladies in 
waiting. He was able to secure the sanction of Margaret's mother 
only on condition that certain high personages be present at the mar- 
riage, among them, Christina, Philip's wife, and Luther and Melanc- 
thon, or at least two noted theologians. Luther, when approached on 
the subject, declared that there was nothing in the Bible expressly 
forbidding such a marriage. He doubtless realized, too, that to lose 
the support of the influential Landgrave would be a serious blow to 
Protestantism. Accordingly he gave his consent, though on condition 
that the marriage be kept an inviolable secret and, if need be, denied. 
The marriage took place, rumour of it leaked out, a widespread scandal 
resulted, and Luther met it with a lie. "What harm would there be," 
was his justification, "if a man, to accomplish better things and for 
the sake of the Christian Church does tell a good thumping lie?" 
The whole affair is an unsavory one and little can be said, even by the 
most partisan spirit, in its justification. 

For the rest, Luther's history is eventful chiefly in the way of 
doctrinal disputes and difficulties, notably those centering about the 
Augsburg Confession of Faith. And in these disputes there became 
apparent in greater and greater degree, qualities and characteristics 
which had also been manifest in many of the incidents of his earlier 
days: an ungovernable temper, bristling aggressiveness, bitterness, bru- 
tality and coarseness, all of which vented themselves on his opponents 
in scurrilous vituperation. His attitude toward the people at the time 
of the Peasants' War had resulted in the estrangement of large portions 
of Germany from his cause. Later, his controversy with Erasmus, in 
which he conducted himself in his usual abusive and contentious man- 
ner, estranged the latter from the Protestant movement and conse- 
quently lost, as well, many of the leading thinkers of the day. Eras- 

16 



242 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

mus, like Luther, had seen the urgent need for ecclesiastical reform; 
indeed, he is known as the intellectual father of the Reformation, so 
strong was the influence of his writings in that direction. But unlike 
Luther, he felt that it should be brought about without any violent 
rupture a correction of existing abuses to be accomplished within the 
Church, through the princes and scholars and in entire accord with 
Rome. Favoring many of Luther's views and opposing his extremes, 
Erasmus was unwilling to take a stand publicly either for or against 
him. Instead he persisted in an attitude of aloofness, until, in danger 
of losing ground with both Protestants and Catholics alike, he was 
forced to take issue, the actual point on which he finally took up 
Luther's challenge, being the doctrine of free will. Similarly, Luther's 
treatment of Zwingli and his followers, in their effort to come to an 
agreement with him regarding the Eucharist, lost him the support of 
additional thousands, putting an end, as it did, to what some writers 
consider the probability of Lutheran leadership of Protestantism. As 
he grew older, nervous disorders and general ill health led to more and 
more violent attacks of temper, greater and greater unreasonableness, 
until according to one account, "the Luther who, from a distance was 
still honoured as the hero and leader of the new church, was only 
tolerated at its centre in consideration of his past services." At Eisle- 
ben, in February, 1546, he suffered a stroke of paralysis and died in 
a very brief time, in the presence of a number of his friends. 

So much for the Roman account of Luther's life. The opposite 
version is not opposed so far as actual fact is concerned; the difference 
lies in the reasons given for his conduct and in the interpretation of 
events. It has been said that there is no essentially Lutheran inter- 
pretation of Luther, that his followers are willing to accept the verdict 
of history; but there are certain historians who are obviously more 
in sympathy with the Reformer than others and of these perhaps his 
fellow countryman, Professor Bohmer, in the book already mentioned, 
shows the fairest and at the same time the most sympathetic judgment. 
Therefore we are drawing largely from his work, together with one 
or two others of a more partisan trend. 

These writers who may be considered Lutheran for the time being, 
claim that Roman accounts, notably that of Denifle, the greatest Catholic 
authority on the subject, show an entirely unfair discrimination, con- 
sulting only those sources that favor their point of view, choosing facts 
which best suit their purposes, ignoring others of an extenuating nature, 
quoting, in the same way, sentences and parts of sentences torn from 
their context and twisted from their right meaning. By way of illus- 
tration they cite Luther's statement made in early monastic days, "Sel- 
dom do I get the requisite time to pray the hours and celebrate the 
mass." It is wrong, they claim, to infer from this that Luther neglected 
the rule of his Order. Indeed, is there not abundant proof to the 



MARTIN LUTHER 243 

contrary in the fact of his remaining in his cell for days on end, without 
food or drink, thus making up at one time for all he had missed? 

His enemies misunderstand his work from the start, say they. In 
the first place Luther was a conservative; he himself wrote, "Rebellion 
is always a work of the devil, it always merely aggravates the evil 
which it means to curb." His conservatism, however, was not such as 
leads to stagnation and blind submission, but conservatism of a sane, 
orderly, progressive kind, which recognizes progress as the law of life. 
And quite in keeping with this idea were his attacks on the Church; 
indeed, his work was a work of love. His own impressions of Rome, 
coupled with the reports of pilgrims returning from the Eternal City, 
convinced him that it was a center of complete atheism, of organized 
robbery, and of all the criminal vices. Loving the Church as he did, 
what more natural than that he flame against the wrongs done in its 
name. In this light one must view his titanic anger and his ceaseless 
invectives against the Papacy ; otherwise they are bound to 'be misunder- 
stood. 

The early theological difficulties regarding the wrath of God and 
the day of judgment are attributed to a particularly delicate and sensi- 
tive conscience, amounting to a psychic abnormality. Except for this 
sensitiveness, the Catholic teaching would have affected him no more 
than his more "coarse-grained" comrades in the monastery, who experi- 
enced small uneasiness concerning sin and the need for forgiveness. 
This same sensitive conscience too, was the driving force which urged 
him on, causing him to leave the beaten path and give to the religious 
problem a new and altogether personal formulation. 

Certain of his admirers see in him a mystic. Did he not read 
Tauler and Eckhardt and Suso, and did he not have his golden moments 
in which he himself said he was surrounded by choirs of angels? To 
be sure his mysticism was a "guarded, measured and safe" one, never 
approaching the extremes and fanaticism of which the mystic is ordi- 
narily in danger. Bohmer writes that Luther's mysticism requires a 
passionate tension of all the forces of the soul; is an active and joyous 
feeling of trust and faith; a live, busy, active, mighty thing, and a 
continual impulse to do what is good. Arguing from this he concludes 
that Luther's mysticism is not the product of anything that has gone 
before, but "something new and original, something that had never 
existed before, for the explanation of which one must always again 
point to a wholly incommensurable quantity: the personal peculiarity 
of the Reformer." Such a claim could not be entertained for a 
moment, were it not that the author has a complete misunderstanding 
of mysticism as represented by the mystics of the Roman Church. His 
discussion of the subject suggests that the mystic, until Luther came, 
lived in a state of passive suffering, a state of apathy, with his will 
paralyzed or "switched off." Luther's mysticism may indeed have 



244 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

been of an entirely new variety, but certainly not for the reasons here 
given. 

As for his personal characteristics, friendly accounts picture a bluff, 
jovial, big-hearted man, who "wears his heart on his sleeve," that is, 
expresses in the most outspoken manner to his friends and table com- 
panions, his views on any and all subjects. His overconfidence in his 
friends and his genial lack of reserve, they claim, is the reason why 
so many unfortunate stories about him have been preserved. His every 
act and thought were open to view, and he was watched so closely by 
friends and enemies that the world knew it if even the mosquitoes 
bothered him. His coarseness and vulgarity of speech are characteristic 
of the age in which he lived and will be found equally, during that 
period, in Germany and in all other European countries. "From a 
generation so rude and coarse Luther had sprung, to such a generation 
he spoke, and against it he was continually forced to do battle." His 
figurative references to hogs, pigsties, asses and so on are naturally 
a violation of present day taste, but are quite in keeping with six- 
teenth century humour. 

His violent temper and his increasing tendency to heap all who 
opposed him with invective and vituperation are attributed partly to ill 
health from which he suffered more and more as time passed, and 
partly to the hostility 'by which he was surrounded. "The Reformer 
stood in the midst of one of the most bitter, spiteful and personal 
conflicts known to the history of the world, a controversy in which 
the honour of his wife, his children, his parents, his friends and 
his ruler were as little spared as his own person. Such ceaseless 
warfare to the knife makes the tenderest soul hard, irritable, rude and 
even coarse." As for the reports of his excessive eating and drinking, 
substantiated by his constant digestive ailments, they declare him to 
have been both frugal and temperate, fond of his glass of wine but not 
given to excess. To be sure there are letters from Luther himself 
which his enemies use to controvert this statement; sentences like the 
following, "I am guttling like a Bohemian and toping like a German, 
thanks be to God, Amen," and "Thank God we are here cheerful and 
well, glutting like Bohemians, though not very and guzzling like Ger- 
mans, though nut much, but we are happy." (Though the spirit is a 
different one, there is an unfortunate suggestion here of the sinister, 
"We live like God in Belgium.") These phrases, however, declare his 
friends, are no proof at all, but are merely playful exaggerations of 
the good doctor. And too, his was not an external but an internal 
asceticism. 

His marriage, in violation of his early vows, and to a nun who 
had likewise broken her vows, one writer goes so far as to claim as 
a mark of special nobility. Luther did it, he declares, only after a 
struggle; he "took upon him this cross of his own free will"; his firm 



MARTIN LUTHER 245 

belief was that celibacy was contrary to the will of God and His laws; 
he felt bound to testify to the truth of his teaching by his own example ; 
and by so doing he elevated the position of women and the status of 
the home, nobly ignoring the "muddy tide of base and disgusting in- 
sinuations." 

With regard to Luther's connection with Hutten and Sickingen, 
Bohmer simply denies it, declares it to be a legend. According to him 
Hutten sought to establish connections with Luther, offered him Sick- 
ingen's protection and wrote four letters proposing an alliance, but 
these "manifestly made no deep impression" on Luther. And instead 
of Luther's being influenced by Hutten's incendiary writings against 
Rome and being led to write in imitation of them, in his "Address to 
the German nobility," Bohmer pictures Hutten, through Luther's 
agency, as turning from his frivolous poesy and suddenly placing his 
wild passion and extraordinary talent at the service of the national 
movement against Rome. 

The facts of the double marriage of Philip of Hesse are given with 
the following explanation: Luther had always been strongly opposed 
to divorce, and considered a double marriage, where such a thing was 
desired, the preferable solution of matrimonial difficulties. He did not 
in the least favor the legalizing of polygamy, but thought it should 
be permitted by special dispensation in cases of serious emergency if 
the wife contracted leprosy, for example. He considered that the Bible, 
his supreme authority, gave instance of such procedure in the story 
of Abraham, and that nothing in the Gospels forbade polygamy, except 
one passage in Timothy. But this passage refers expressly to the 
clergy, therefore for the laity it is not contrary to Divine law. In 
his earlier years, he considered that such a marriage should be entered 
into openly and publicly, this being his view in regard to the proposed 
marriage of Henry VIII of England and Anne Boleyn. Later in life, 
however, he favored a union of this kind only if the strictest secrecy 
were observed. This as we have seen, was his attitude at the time 
of the Landgrave's marriage. It is said in his favor that before his 
death, he emphatically declared monogamy for laity and clergy alike 
to be the state that is alone "fully and completely in accordance with 
the divine order of the universe." 

There is much further explanation and justification of this inci- 
dent: it is claimed that Philip deceived Luther, making him think that 
his desire to take a second wife was due to a longing to live a better 
life, "to occupy a better position before God and his conscience"; 
that he concealed certain events of his unsavory past, which, when 
later revealed to Luther, caused him to repent in positive rage, the 
granting of the dispensation; that he received Luther's approval, not 
as a public testimony but as a private memorandum and, as it were, 
under the confessional seal. As for the denial of the marriage when 



246 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

rumour of it spread, there has long been a distinction between lies 
and white lies. The latter term Luther used for those which are told 
in the interest and for the love of one's fellow man; and while it is 
not a matter of emulation for later Protestants, Luther was neverthe- 
less justified according to his own reasoning, in regarding the denial 
of the Hessian marriage as a white lie. 

His apparent desertion of the peasants at the time of the Peasants' 
War is, it would seem, in no need of explanation for he was obviously 
never with them. His views on government are proof of this. The 
paternal government which he advocated, should demand from all 
subjects "honour, taxes, tolls, all manner of services, and obedience 
even to the point of sacrificing life itself." Furthermore, he taught 
and abundant fruit the teaching is bringing forth today that the 
secular power is wholly free from Church interference, any intrusion 
of the Church in political and social life as a giver of moral standards 
and laws, being irreligious. Others, say his admirers, had held this 
theory either wholly or in part, in earlier centuries, but "no one 
before Luther conceived and portrayed the 'paternal vocation' of the 
state so broadly and definitely." The Church, says Luther, has no 
other call than that of preaching Christ. It is, therefore, neither its 
right nor its duty to interfere in the physical life of man or to bind 
him by laws and prescriptions "as though man were not able to 
attend to this himself with the aid of reason." "Further," quoting 
from Professor Bohmer's book, ". . . . the Church is in substance 
nothing more than a missionary institution, a school for those who 
are not yet true Christians. Therefore, it is neither competent nor 
authorized to permanently lead, rule, or hold in tutelage the true 
Christians, or those who believe in Christ and who earnestly desire to 
be Christians." (A Christianity then, divorced from physical life, from 
social, political indeed from any kind of life, and relegated to the 
position of a "missionary institution"; what an indictment of Protest- 
antism!) "Honest worldly activity," says another writer, "did not re- 
ceive any moral justification until the Church's activities were entirely 
limited to spiritual matters." It scarcely needs to be added that Luther 
thus paved the way for a "new concept of the state and of political 
life, which though it is not identical with the modern view of the 
state, nevertheless prepared the path for the modern 'Kulturstaat.' " 

So much for the effort to present the Lutheran point of view; 
the choice between the two is doubtless best left to the individual. 
One conclusion, however, seems most obvious after thus reviewing 
the events of his life, namely, that Luther is a German of the Ger- 
mans, expressing the national spirit of his people in thought, word and 
deed. And this was true not only in the sixteenth century but is 
equally true today, whether he be loved or hated, revered or reviled by 
the people whom he tried to serve. In substantiation of this view, 



MARTIN LUTHER 247 

there are several passages from a lecture by Heinrich von Treitschke 
given at Darmstadt some years ago, which certainly leave no doubt as 
to one German's ideas on the subject. "None among the other modern 
nations," he says, "can boast of a man who was the mouthpiece of his 
countrymen in quite the same way, and who succeeded as fully in 
giving expression to the innermost character of his nation." Striking 
contrasts of character are exhibited in his life work, but "we Ger- 
mans are not puzzled by these apparent contradictions; all we say is, 
'Here speaks our own blood.' " The lecturer continues with an enumer- 
ation of the German virtues as exhibited by Luther, which, in the light 
of present day events, are, to say the least, difficult to accept : a medita- 
tive seriousness that is painfully conscious of the transitory nature of 
earthly things; joy of life; undaunted courage; deep longing for de- 
liverance from the curse of sin; a bellicose and practical turn of mind 
(the phrase is employed with laudatory intent) that is bewildered by 
the old Church teachings; the native energy and unquenchable fire of 
German defiance; a deep sense of historical piety; all of which virtues, 
exemplified by Luther, led him to present to the Germans "a form of 
Christian belief which satisfied their craving for truth, and was in 
harmony with the untamable independence of the German character." 
One more passage links Luther beyond a doubt with Germany, and 
emphatically with the Germany of today. It is explained that, acting 
on Luther's advice, Albert of Brandenburg repudiated his vows and 
changed his dominions from an ecclesiastical to a secular state. "Thus 
it was that Prussia, a land belonging to the [Teutonic] Order, a colony 
of Germany as a whole, was turned into a secular duchy. . . . 
Luther wrote with gratitude: 'Behold a miracle! With all sails spread, 
the Gospel speeds through Prussia.' He did not dream what other great 
miracles our nation should behold in his outlying Eastern province. It 
was from this district, which was snatched from the old Church and 
stood or fell with Protestantism, that the military greatness of our 
modern history emerged to reveal itself in world-famed battles, and 
it was also out of Prussia that grew up, in the fullness of time, the 
new State of Germany, which refuses to be either holy or Roman 
[the lecture was given before August, 1914, when there may still have 
been need for assurance as to this fact] but desires, in the words 
of the Reformer, to be a secular kingdom, a German kingdom, without 
tinsel or false appellations." Truly, Luther has had laid at his door 
many and great things and the responsibility for modern Prussia is 
not the least of them! 

But the contrary statement has also been made with great fre- 
quency that Luther is not essentially German, that his teaching con- 
tains nothing peculiar to the German spirit, and that, his message and 
his leadership being universal, he belongs to the whole world. One 
exponent of this theory, a Lutheran clergyman in one of our own 



248 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

large cities, urges that to this world-leader all countries are indebted, 
and none more than America. "We illustrate in practice," he writes, 
"the thoughts he (Luther) originated as does no other people. Amer- 
ica's debt to Luther is one that every man, woman and child of her 
teeming millions should acknowledge" and for which they should never 
cease to be grateful. Making due allowance for the laudation of 
everything German, to which the world has been subjected during the 
last decade, let us ask ourselves if this statement is true. Are we in- 
debted to Germany, either wholly or in part for the very institutions 
we have been brought up most to revere? Does America owe to her, 
as this man claims, her peerless prize of civil liberty, her separation 
of Church and state, her government by the people and for the people? 
If the war had not unmasked the German state for what it actually 
is, might our own national institutions have evolved to just such hideous 
conclusions? And if the answer be that in its source our national, 
social and religious life contains elements, identical or even similar to 
those of the German state, let us take the clergyman's thought, and, 
quite contrary to its original intention, use it as a timely warning. 

JULIA CHICKERING. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 



PART III 
SECTION II (Continued) 

A~)KETCH of what the Germans have been throughout the centu- 
ries, unpleasant reading though it is, must be given and fully 
understood before the preposterous nature of German claims 
about such people as the Alsatians can be realized. It is not suffi- 
cient to read the Bryce report, and a few shocking newspaper articles, and 
then to turn back once more to the complacent and detached study of his- 
tory and literature. German atrocities, German lies, the revelation of 
Germany, must be put side by side with one's reading of history, before 
that history is more than an interesting fiction, as it stands today in large 
part manufactured by Germans or by German methods. No one thinks 
that the acts and thoughts of the Allied nations for the past two thousand 
years have been perfect, have been what they shpuld be many times and on 
many occasions. But no one who knows will confuse the wrongdoings 
of England or of France with the wrongdoing, the hypocrisy, the perver- 
sion which Germany itself is. No one today would confuse England or 
France with Germany; "By their fruits ye shall know them." But the 
fruits of Germany today are the product of the Germany of yesterday, 
just as England and France today are the outgrowth of their respective 
pasts. Therefore, those several pasts should reveal the achievements of 
today, whether good or bad ; and it should no more be impossible to dis- 
tinguish between the historic Englishman, Frenchman and German, than it 
is at present. Moreover, if our reading of past history has failed to dis- 
cern the causes underlying effects which today the War has made mani- 
fest, then our reading of history has been inadequate, and must be done 
anew. To say that sixty years of Prussian dominance produced "fright- 
fulness" in the Bavarian and even the Saxon, is to beg the question. Why 
did the Bavarian and Saxon submit ? Why does he even applaud ? How 
was it possible that Saxon, Bavarian and Wurtemberger should have 
united with Prussian in such a base and unholy alliance ? 

Expediency is the substance of almost all the answers put forward. 
But honorable men never find it even expedient to associate with avowed 
villains. There is no "honour" among thieves of the Prussian type. If 
they erect a code which they dub chivalry in imitation of their betters, 
it is only a game at which they play, and throw aside instantly when it 
is inconvenient. The essence of the thing escapes them because it is 
beyond them. South-eastern Germany has become Prussianized because 
it has never become civilized, despite its counterfeit veneer and intellec- 
tual development modelled upon that of France and England. 



250 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

To understand Germany today, we must look not merely to her 
more recent political history, but to her character as it has developed from 
earliest days until now. And if today we see the German type turn to 
Prussian frightfulness casting off all restraint or moral codes while 
the Alsatian type turns, and has consistently for nearly three centuries 
turned, towards French standards, then we pronounce the Alsatian French 
and not German. There is no evidence at all, at any time, of Prussian 
frightfulness lying latent in the Alsatian breast. There has been an 
unbroken sequence of brutality, savagery, indecency and cruelty on the 
part of all native German peoples from the dawn of history until the 
hour in which I write. The furor tutonicus was a byword amongst 
Greeks, Romans, and throughout the Middle Ages. The evidence is 
overwhelming. The detail is so awful that it has instinctively been 
hushed up by writers both friendly and hostile. But in the days when 
our newspapers contain accounts of atrocities, which, though written, are 
rightly called unspeakable, it is no excuse to plead for a consideration 
of weak susceptibilities, to belittle facts, and to gild the base and vile. 
Smooth hypocracies must give place to plain speaking; delusions to 
hard facts. 

We must look again to our history, and learn that despite the exalted 
claims of a Bernhardi, indeed, of a whole people, the Greek and Roman 
historians, and the writers and chroniclers of the Middle Ages, do not 
bear them out. There were no such things as "liberty and fair play, 
justice, honour, and purity" in the German forests ; and certain honorable 
exceptions in specific cases in given individuals (as when Attila fed the 
starving Romans by stages so that they should not die of sudden repletion) 
such praiseworthy exceptions are the raw material for future civiliza- 
tion, but they are not more than indications of genuine human 
attainment. Such is particularly true of Attila, whose occasional good 
impulses, most outrageously over-estimated in Germany, were consistently 
and fiercely resisted by his tribesmen. 

The Greek and Roman accounts show striking similarities to the 
descriptions written today of these enemies of mankind. Says Nazarius 
(c. A. D. 321): "What shall I say of the Bructeri? What of the 
Chemavi? What of the Cherusci, the Vangiones, the Alamanni, the 
Tubantes? The very names cry out of war, and their pronunciation itself 
fills us with horror at the immensity of their barbarism." x Tacitus tells 
us that the ancestors of these tribes sacrificed living men. The Sennones 
met together in a sacred forest, and "after publicly offering up a human 
life, they celebrate the grim initiation of their barbarian rites." 2 Pro- 
copius, two centuries later (550-560) discovers, in this connection, one 
noticeable characteristic of the Germans, religious hypocrisy. He says : 
"For these Barbarians, though they are Christians, yet they perform most 



1 Panegericus, Migne. Pat. Lot., Vol. VIII, col. 595, xviii. 

2 Germania, XXXIX. We confess to a special keenness in quoting Tacitus, just because 
the Germans have distorted him so "ruthlessly." 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 251 

of their ancient superstitious rites, immolating human victims, and per- 
forming other impious sacrifices by which they predict the future. Who- 
ever catch sight of the army of the Goths, betake themselves in flight to 
the cities." * 

Germans have altered Christianity to suit themselves, Christianity 
has not succeeded in changing them. Calling themselves Christian, they 
know nothing of the Christ Spirit, which they claim to be synonymous 
with the German Spirit (Geist). 

Pomponius Mela, writing about the time of Caligula, speaks of the 
"innate savagery" of the Germans of his day, and of their lust for war 
and plunder. "With them might is right, so much so that they are not 
even ashamed to rob and murder. They are, however, kind to their 
guests [who successfully eluded murder], and gentle with suppliants 
[ ! ?] : they are so coarse and uncultured in their way of eating, that they 
even devour raw meat." 2 

A contemporary of Csesar, Velleius Paterculus (c, 19 B. C. to A. D. 
31) writes in his History of Rome, "But this people are savage to a 
degree almost inconceivable to anyone who has not had actual experience 
of them, and are, withal, a race born to deceit." 3 This characteristic of 
deceit is mentioned by nearly every Roman writer. Procopius says that 
the Goths knew their blood-relations too well to trust them; they 
"thought of obtaining assistance from some of the other barbarians 
[against the Roman General Belisarius], but they were careful not to 
call in the Germans, having already had experience of the craft and 
treachery of that race." * He elsewhere speaks of the east Franks (not 
the Romanized West-Franks) as "of all men the most prone to break 
faith," and he quotes a letter from Belisarius to Theudibert, reminding 
him that to break an oath embodied in writing was "disgraceful, even 
in the most dishonourable of men." 

But let us examine some extended passages, to get a still more accu- 
rate and complete picture of the proceedings of these ancestors of modern 
Germans. 

Florus and Tacitus describe in detail the defeat of the Roman Varus 
by Arminius (Hermann), and the atrocities committed by the German 
soldiers. Says Florus: "Never was slaughter more bloody than that 
which was made of the Romans among the marshes and woods. . . . Of 
some they gouged out the eyes ; of others they cut off the hands ; of one 
the mouth was sewed up after his tongue had been cut out, which one 
of the savages holding in his hand, cried out: 'At last, viper, cease to 
hiss !' " 5 

1 De Bella Gothico, Lib. II, 25. Cf. Bouquet, torn II, p. 38. 

* De Situ Orbis, Lib. III. cap. iii, pp. 261-2 in the edition of Nunnesei and Perizoni, 
pub. in Bavaria, 1748. We see that "Jus in viribus habent" might is right antedates Bismarck 
by 1700 years. Note that German "aristocrats" eat raw meat. Even Roman plebeians like 
Mela did not. 

' Natum metidacio genus, II, 118. 

* The Gothic Wars, ii. 22 ; second quote. 25. Cf. Bouquet, torn II, p. 39. 
' Epit. Rer. Rom., IV, 12. Vol. I, p. 471 of F. G. Sturxius' edition. 



252 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Tacitus describes the visit of Germanicus six years later to the same 
spot. "In the middle of the battle-field were bleached bones, scattered 
or in heaps, as the men fell in flight, or in a body, resisted to the last. 
Fragments of javelins and limbs of horses were lying about; and there 
were human heads fixed to the trunks of trees [chivalry again]. In 
groves close by were the barbarian altars on which the Tribunes and 
Centurions of the first rank had been slaughtered. And survivors of the 
disaster, who had escaped the fight or their chains, showed that here the 
legates fell, here the eagles were captured ; here was where Varus received 
his first wound ; this the place where he gave himself the mortal stab and 
died by his own hand. There was the tribunal where Arminius harangued 
his countrymen ; here he fixed the gibbets ; and there dug pits for the 
captives." i 

This Arminius was a fine type, indeed, of the pure and noble German. 
Residing several years in Rome, he was invested by the Senate with the 
title "Amicus," on account of the friendship he professed for the Romans, 
and he had also been invested with the dignity of Roman knight. He 
studied the tactics and organization of his future adversaries, and though 
simulating friendship, had long been secretly stirring up some of the 
German tribes to rebellion. When the Roman General Varus decided 
to march against these tribes, Arminius promised to meet him at the 
Teutoberger Forest and support the attack. But the moment Varus 
arrived, Arminius led a furious assault against the three Roman legions, 
and cut them to pieces in the civilized way above described. Some time 
later one of Arminius' followers, Adgandestrius, offered to procure his 
death if poison were sent for the purpose of the murder, writing a letter 
to this effect to the Roman Senate. They, however, replied that the 
Roman people took vengeance on their enemies not by treachery or by 
any other secret measure, but openly by force of arms. This Germanicus 
accomplished. Arminius later betrayed and ravished the daughter of his 
fellow-countryman Segestes (compare with passage on purity above). 
He himself fell a victim to the treachery of his kinsmen. Despite his 
brutality and deceitfulness, Tacitus praises his patriotism. He is Ger- 
many's great hero today; they see only virtue in him; and a colossal 
statue now stands on the spot where his treachery against the Roman 
legions was consummated. 2 Tacitus incidentally mentions the fact that 
it was greed for plunder which saved the army of Germanicus from 
destruction at one point in the campaign, the Germans quite forgetting 
to fight in their eagerness to seek out the choicest booty. 3 

These people and Bernhardi's vision of them do not seem to agree. 
"They are such barbarians, that they do not understand peace," 4 says 
Florus; while in the phrase quoted by Zeller "the eternal hatred, the 



1 XnnaKwm, I, 61, ff. 

'Annalium, I, 58, and II, 88, etc. 

* Op. cit., I, 65. What fault which they had of old have they not got today? 

4 Op. cit., IV, cap. xii, 20-21. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 253 

inexpiable fury of this race" 1 there is perhaps an epitome of their 
fundamental nature then as now. 

Caesar, first biographer of the Germans, praises little more than their 
hardihood and bravery. His text is thoroughly well-worked by the 
Germans. But at the very best his picture gives a striking contrast 
between the standards and civilization of his Roman legionaries (surely 
no very high criterion of Roman culture) and the barbarians they over- 
came. He met the best that Germany's forests had to offer. As to their 
religion and customs, much that he tells us is, on his own say-so, merely 
second-hand information, and must be estimated in that light. Of their 
morality he writes : "Sexual intercourse below the age of twenty is 
considered a disgrace to manhood; though, on the other hand, they are 
singularly free from all false modesty on this subject, and not only bathe 
together in their rivers, but even wear nothing more upon their bodies 
than a thin covering of deer or other skin, which necessarily leaves the 
greater portion bare." 2 This is again the picture of a primitive, animal 
virtue, nor is it exactly a standard of modesty; and be it noted that the 
Germans lost their simplicity and native virtue after contact with Roman 
vices, and retained, as they retain to this day, their lack of modesty. 

Their lust for war and plunder was a source of bewonderment to 
most of the Roman writers, and has been a characteristic of them through- 
out the Middle Ages and up to the present day. Says Tacitus (and the 
Germans openly consider this as praise) : "You will not so readily per- 
suade them to till the land and to wait for the year's harvests as to chal- 
lenge an enemy and earn themselves wounds. It seems to them to show 
a want of energy to get with the sweating of your brow what you can 
obtain by the shedding of your blood." 3 Caesar relates : "Their whole 
life is spent in hunting and the pursuit of the art of war," and, "Among 
the tribes there is no more coveted distinction than to live in the center 
of a vast wilderness, that has been carved out with their own swords, 
their frontiers having been laid waste. They consider it a distinctive 
mark of their prowess that their neighbors should be expelled from their 
lands, and they do not permit anyone to establish themselves near by. 
. . . Open brigandage, which is carried on beyond the boundaries of the 
state, carries with it no disgrace ; rather it is held up to admiration as a 
natural outlet for the activities of youth, and to prevent sloth." These 
passages speak for themselves. 

Let us conclude this recital of the early authorities on German man- 
ners and customs by quoting from one of the most reliable of the Roman 
historians, Ammianus Marcellinus. Of the Huns, he says, "They wear 
linen clothes, or else garments made of the skins of field-mice: nor do 
they wear a different dress out of doors from that which they wear at 

1 Origines de I'Altemagne, p. 221 ittius gentis odia perpetua et inexpiabiles irat. This 
book, pub. in 1872, is an admirable study. 

3 De Bella Gothico, VI, 21. The following quotation is from cap. 23. 
3 Germania, XIV; cf. Annalium, XIII, 57. 



254 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

home, but after a tunic is once put round their necks, however it becomes 
worn, it is never taken off or changed till, from long decay, it becomes 
actually so ragged as to fall to pieces." However corrupt Roman baths 
may have become, they were more "civilized" than this. "In truces they 
are treacherous, and inconstant, being liable to change their minds at 
every breeze of every hope which presents itself, giving themselves up 
wholly to the impulse and inclination of the moment; and, like brute 
beasts, they are utterly ignorant of the distinction between right and 
wrong. They express themselves with great ambiguity and obscurity; 
have no respect for any religion or superstition whatever; are immod- 
erately covetous of gold; and are so fickle and irascible, that they very 
often on the same day that they quarrel with their companions without 
any provocation, again become reconciled to them without any mediator. 
This active and indomitable race, being excited by an unrestrainable 
desire of plundering the possessions of others, went on ravaging and 
slaughtering all the nations in their neighborhood till they reached the 
Alani . . . etc." * Ammianus writes towards the end of the fourth cen- 
tury, not the twentieth. 

He characterizes the Budini and Geloni as "a race of exceeding 
ferocity, who flay the enemies they have slain in battle, and make of their 
skins clothes for themselves and trappings for their horses." (13) Others 
"live on human flesh" (15). The Alani are "in every respect equal to 
the Huns, only more civilized in their food and manner of life." . . . 
"Nor is there anything of which they boast with more pride than of hav- 
ing killed a man" (21, 23). 

The conduct of Fritigern and the Goths with him in Thrace, seems 
to have been an ancestral rehearsal for recent events in Belgium, France, 
Serbia, Armenia, Italy and Russia. Having failed to take Adrianople by 
siege, they turned to ravage Thrace "greatly encouraged by this cir- 
cumstance, that a multitude of their nation came in daily who had for- 
merly been sold as slaves by the merchants, together with many others, 
who, at the first passage of the river, when they were suffering from 
severe want, had been bartered for a little wine or a few morsels of 
bread. To these were added no small number of men skilled in tracing 
out veins of gold, but who were unable to endure the heavy burden of 
their taxes ; and who, having been received with the cheerful consent 
of all, were of great use to them in traversing strange districts, showing 
them the secret stores of grain, the retreats of men, and other hiding 
places of various kinds. Under their guidance nothing remained 
untouched except what was inaccessible or wholly out of the way; for 
without any distinction of age or sex they went forward destroying 
everything in one vast slaughter and conflagration : tearing infants even 
from their mothers' breasts, and butchering them ; ravishing the mothers ; 
slaughtering women's husbands before the eyes of those whom they thus 



*Rerum Gestarum Libri. XXXI, Cap. ii, S, 11, 12. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 255 

made widows; while boys, both young and adult, were dragged over 
the corpses of their parents. And finally, numbers of old men, crying 
out that they had lived long enough, having lost all their riches, together 
with beautiful women, had their hands bound behind their backs, and 
were driven into banishment, bewailing the ashes of their native homes." l 

And the Germans call themselves the most highly civilized race 
throughout history! 

St. Jerome writes in 395 : "Swarms of Huns burst forth, and flying 
hither and thither scatter slaughter and terror everywhere, . . . May 
Jesus protect the Roman world in future from such beasts ! They were 
everywhere when they were least expected, and their speed outstripped 
the rumor of their approach; they spared neither religion nor dignity 
nor age ; nor did they show pity to the cry of infancy. Babes, who had 
not yet begun to live, were forced to die; and, ignorant of the evils that 
were upon them, there was a smile upon their lips as they were held in 
the hands and threatened by the swords of the enemy." 2 To quote one 
more ecclesiactical writer, Salvianus, who followed Jerome by about a 
decade, wrote a moralizing treatise On the Government of God. He 
considers that the Germans were instruments of God's vengeance against 
the sins of the Romans ; and while disparaging the Romans, and exhalting 
the Germans, he is yet compelled to admit that "The Saxon race is cruel, 
the Franks are faithless, the Gepidse are inhuman, and the Huns impure 
in short there is viciousness in the life of all the barbarian peoples." 
But, to point the moral of his sermon, he asks "But are their offenses 
as serious as ours? Is the unchastity of the Hun so criminal as ours? 
Is the faithlessness of the Frank so blameworthy as ours? Is the intem- 
perance of the Alamanni so base as the intemperance of the Christians ? 
Does the greed of the Alani so merit condemnation as the greed of the 
Christians ? If the Hun or the Gepid cheat, what is there to wonder at, 
since he does not know that cheating is a crime? If a Frank perjure 
himself, does he do anything strange, he who regards perjury as a way 
of speaking, not as a crime? 3 

"The nation of the Goths is perfidious but modest, that of the Alani 
immodest but less perfidious ; the Franks are liars but hospitable, the 
Saxons wild with cruelty, but to be admired for their chastity. All these 
nations, in short, have their especial good qualities as well as their peculiar 
vices." 4 

What are we to think today of a people who are now, and for a 
thousand years past, professing Christians, and yet the indictment of a 
priestly writer fifteen hundred years ago applies to them as much today 
as then? His apology for them is no longer valid, the sins they com- 

1 Op. cit., XXXI, vi, 5, 6, and 7. V. Gardthausen edition, pp. 247-8. 

2 Epistle LXXVII, 8; p. 45 of Isadore Hilberg's ed. in Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum 
Latinorum, Vol. 55; "Sancti EusebU Hieronymi Epistulae," Pars II. 

3 De Gubernatione Dei, IV, cap. xiv, par. 67-8. Man. Germ. Auc. Ant., I, p. 40. 
*vii, 15. 



256 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

mitted then are with them today, and with the exception of the Franks 
if they were German they have lost even the virtues which he, at least, 
attributes to them. Truly, once a German always a German seems to be 
an indisputable historic fact. 

No better summary of the Roman view of the Germans could be 
cited than that of Zeller in the first volume of his Histoire D'Allemagne, 
"There is no such thing as a sure treaty with these barbarians. They 
dethrone the kings which are given them, and set up others in their 
places; they receive money or lands from their enemies or even their 
own allies as the price of peace, and immediately afterwards break that 
peace ; Marcus Aurelius had not time to have a medal struck announcing 
to the world the conclusion of a permanent peace with the Germans 
before it was violated by them. 

"The Germans never take service in the Roman armies except for 
the purpose of learning how to fight them; they never go to carry on 
trade in the Roman provinces except for the purpose of spying; they 
never swear an oath to the Romans without the intention of breaking 
it ; they never sign a peace except with the object of preparing for war ; 
they make no use of money paid them except to procure arms with it; 
they accept a footing in the Empire only that they may be in a better 
position to lay it waste. For them there is no promise given to the 
enemy outside the frontier that binds, no engagement, no moral or inter- 
national law. The nations of classical antiquity, even in time of war, 
respected law, and the rights of men. Against his neighbor, who is also 
his enemy, the German considers everything to be lawful : jus in viribus 
habet, said Pomponius Mela ; for them, might is right." x 

****** 

The picture given above is in the nature of things incomplete, but 
it is in all essential particulars exact. It is far more accurate than that 
of the honorable and chivalrous aristocrats, who slid down Italian glaciers 
on their shields, pictured by Menzel. The Prussian programme of 1902 
for higher schools lays down the absolute instruction to all teachers that 
"the history of nations outside Germany is to be considered only as it is 
of importance for German history." 2 This is reiterated in 1912. In 
case Menzel be considered an antiquated and discredited historian, we 
recommend the perusal of the above Lehrpldne, as also that of any, even 
the most recent German school text-books. 3 The German public are 
fed on such pabulum, and German "science" has countenanced and fur- 
thered their efforts systematically. They have had an amazing audacity, 
because the sources and texts above quoted are in every library, accessible 



1 Origines de I'Allemagne, p. 194. Published in 1891, 4th edition. 

2 Quoted in J. F. Scott, Ph.D. Patriots in the Making, an exceedingly painstaking and 
rather modern study of the contrasting methods of France and Germany, p. 182. Official Lehr- 
plane, etc., p. 215, passim. Scott is nothing if not impartial. 

3 As, for example, the series of David Muller, Neubauer, Lehrbuch; Schenk-Koch, Lfhr- 
buch der Geschichte, and also Lange, Leitfaden; Lauer, JVeltgeschickte; Daniel, Lthrbuch; 
Andra, Ersdhlungen, etc. 



ALSACE AND LORRAINE 257 

to all. No wonder they have despised the colossal stupidity of some 
other people! But the need is for awakening, revision, reconstruction. 
It is no longer possible to live on the surface, and when Germany claims 
Alsace-Lorraine as German, let us realize who it is that makes the claim, 
and what the full significance of the claim is. 

Was the urdeutsch ancestor of the Alsatian one of "tales bestias"? 
We have already indicated that for centuries the Alsatian was a Roman 
citizen, with all the refining influences which that implied. Hansi's 
delightfully overdrawn pictures illustrative of the history of his native 
land convey a truth which the German neglects to verify. Celt or Roman- 
ized-Frank, the Alsatian was a Roman, fought in the Roman legions, 
went to the Roman schools, frequented his own famous Roman baths, 
and dressed, acted, lived, like the Roman. Certainly throughout the 
urdeutsch period the only crass barbarism he knew was an unwelcome 
importation from Germany. Nor, in any scale of comparison whatso- 
ever, can the Alsace of the Roman Empire and, even before, of Celtic 
days, be set beneath the savagery of Teutonic forests. 

When it comes to the Middle Age period, another test, and other 
standards, must be used. The Germans became more restrained in cer- 
tain respects; life in cities altered the expression of their racial charac- 
teristics; intermarriage led to modifications of type. The earlier period 
is one of sharp contrasts and violent oscillations. But out of the mael- 
strom emerged groups of peoples, all various intermixtures of differing 
elements, and no two groups alike, which had been attracted by some 
common ground of interest or action, by contiguity, by the chance isola- 
tion of geographic boundaries, or by some even stronger religious or 
idealistic principle. These groups, for years more or less independent, 
were in their turn regrouped in larger units, dominated by some one of 
their number more virile than the rest, and able to give its less favored 
neighbours not merely material protection, but the intellectual and spiritual 
leadership which liberated and developed them. 

The same process of aggregation and regrouping took place through- 
out Europe. The larger resulting units we call nations. France was the 
first of such nations to emerge; and Alsace-Lorraine were fertile and 
influential members of this larger group. Germany, as said, was the last 
such aggregation to arrive at a common consciousness, and that only 
completely in 1870, under the heel of Bismark. 

The elements of French national consciousness were therefore in 
existence long before that of Germany; and it is our task to analyse 
certain essential features of that consciousness, with their relation to 
that of the Alsatian group consciousness ; and then, further, to trace the 
German characteristics, which, through centuries of unsuccessful effort, 
finally achieved a national unity under the Iron Chancellor. 

A. G. 
(To be continued) 

17 




THE TIDE OF LIFE.* 
(ANNOTATED BY H. P. BLAVATSKY) 

"Our souls have sight of that immortal sea which brought us hither; 

Can in a moment travel thither 
And see the children sport upon the shore, 

And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore." 

THAT the book of Genesis is not a homogeneous work, but is 
composed of several distinct and widely different books, be- 
comes evident from a slight examination. The first thirty-four 
verses form the first and apparently the most ancient of these. 
This treatise contains a system of cosmogony closely resembling that 
of the Puranas and Upanishads. The origin of this ancient tract, and 
the causes which led to its incorporation with the Hebrew scriptures, 
we can only guess at. Its source may have been some venerable 
hieratic manuscript brought by Moses from the temple-libraries of 
Egypt, where it had lain for thousands of years, from the time when 
the colonists of Egypt left their early home in ancient India. Or it 
came, perhaps, from the Chaldean Magians, the inheritors of the sacred 
Iranian lore, the younger sister of the wisdom-religion of the mother- 
land of the Aryas. This much we know, that it contains a Divine 
Cosmogony, of evident Oriental character, and almost identical with 
the Archaic Sacred theories of the East. 

This tract splits off like a flake from the story of Adam and Eve 
which, from its more vivid colour, has almost cast it into the shade, and 
a mere preface or pendant to which it has erroneously been considered 
to be. To make this separation more clearly apparent, a few of the 
lines of cleavage may be shewn. 1 To begin with, we find two quite 
different and distinct accounts of the "Creation." 

* Reprinted from The Path, April and May, 1888. 

1 The esoteric teaching accounts for it. The first chapter of Genesis, or the 
Elohistic version, does not treat of the creation of man at all. It is what the 
Hindu Puranas call the Primal creation, while the second chapter is the Secondary 
creation or that of our globe of man. Adam Kadmon is no man, but the pro- 
tologos, the collective Sephirothal Tree the "Heavenly Man," the vehicle (or 
Vahan) used by En-Soph to manifest in the phenomenal world (see Zohar) : and 
as the "male and female" Adam is the "Archetypal man," so the animals men- 
tioned in the first chapter are the sacred animals, or the Zodiacal signs, while 
"Light" refers to the angels so called. H. P. B. 



THE TIDE OF LIFE 259 

(1) In the more ancient cosmogony, contained in the first thirty- 
four verses, the account of the formation of man is similar to, and 
parallel with, that of the animals. 1 

"The Elohim created man, male and female." 

While the second and later account introduces the distinct and 
peculiar story of the creation of Adam from dust, and of Eve from 
Adam's rib. Besides this, earlier in the second account, we find that 
the formation of man as detailed in the first tract is entirely ignored by 
the words 

"There was not a man to till the ground." 2 

and this nine verses after it had been chronicled that "God created 
man." 

(2) In the more ancient tract, man and woman are created to- 
gether, and over them is pronounced the blessing 

"Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth," 
yet in the subsequent story of Adam and Eve, the absence of woman 
is marked by the words 

"It is not good that the man should be alone:" 

and further on, in the story of Eden, the children of Eve are foretold 
with a curse and not with a blessing, 

"I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception," 
for, in this story, while Adam and Eve remained unfallen they re- 
mained childless. 

(3) We read in the first account that 

"The Earth brought forth grass, herb yielding seed, and fruit 
tree." 



1 Vide supra "The great whale" (v21) is the Makara of the Hindu Zodiac 
translated very queerly as "Capricorn," whereas it is not even a "Crocodile," as 
"Makara" is translated, but a nondescript aquatic monster, the "Leviathan" in 
Hebrew symbolism, and the vehicle of Vishnu. Whoever may be right in the 
recent polemical quarrel on Genesis between Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Huxley, 
it is not Genesis that is guilty of the error imputed. The Elohistic portion of 
it is charged with the great zoological blunder of placing the evolution of the 
birds before the reptiles (Vide "Modern Science and Modern Thought," by 
Mr. S. Laing), and Mr. Gladstone is twitted with supporting it. But one has but 
to read the Hebrew text to find that Verse 20 (Chap. 1) does speak of reptiles 
before the birds. And God said let the waters bring forth abundantly the 
(swimming and creeping, not) moving creatures that hath life, and fowl that 
may fly," etc. This ought to settle the quarrel and justify Genesis, for here we 
find it in a perfect zoological order first the evolution of grass, then of larger 
vegetation, then of fish (or mollusks), reptiles, birds, etc., etc. Genesis is a 
purely symbolical and kabalistic volume. It can neither be understood nor appre- 
ciated, if judged on the mistranslations and misinterpretations of its Christian 
remodellers. H. P. B. 

2 Because Adam is the Symbol of the first terrestrial Man or Humanity 
H. P. B. 



260 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

This is ignored in the second account, when we read twenty-four 
verses later, 

"No plant of the field was yet in the earth," 

Similarly, we have a second and distinct account of the formation 
of the animal kingdom; which, moreover, comes after the Seventh 
day "on which God rested from all his work which he had created and 
made." 1 

(4) In the first account the order of creation is as follows: 
"Birds; beasts; man; woman"; 

In the second, we find the order changed, 

"Man; beasts; fowls; woman." 

In the one case man is created to rule the beasts ; in the other the 
beasts are created as companions for man. 

(5) In the first account all herbs and fruits are given to man 
unreservedly 

"I have given you every tree, in the which is the fruit of a 

tree yielding seed," 
In the second we read 

"Of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, 

God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it." 

(6) All through the earlier cosmogony the Divine Creative Energy 
is called "Elohim"; thus in the first verse we read 

"Berashit bara Elohim." 

In the story of Adam and Eve this title is replaced by another, "Jeho- 
vah" or "Yava." In the English the difference is veiled by translating 
the former "God," though it is a plural form, while the latter becomes 
"the Lord God." In other parts of the Bible several other titles of 
Deity are introduced, "El," "Adon-ai," "El Shaddai." 

(7) The early cosmogony gives to man a Divine dignity from the 
first : 

"The Elohim created man in their own image; in the image of 

the Elohim created they him," 

In the story of Adam and Eve this likeness to the Divine conies 
only after the forbidden fruit is eaten, when man has fallen; then it 
was that 

"Jehovah said, The man is become as one of us." 



1 Genesis being an eastern work, it has to be read in its own language. It 
is in full agreement, when understood, with the universal cosmogony and evolu- 
tion of life as given in the Secret Doctrine of the Archaic Ages. The last word 
of Science is far from being uttered yet. Esoteric philosophy teaches that man 
was the first living being to appear on earth, all the animal world coming after 
him. This will be proclaimed absurdly unscientific. But see in Lucifer "The 
Latest Romance of Science." H. P. B. 



THE TIDE OF LIFE 261 

These facts warrant us in considering this Divine cosmogony, con- 
tained in the first thirty-four verses of Genesis, separate and distinct from 
the less orderly and scientific, though more popular, story of Adam and 
Eve. 

At the present time when the apparent antagonism between modern 
evolutionary doctrines and the doctrine of the Adamic Creation is per- 
plexing many, it may not be out of place to draw attention to this 
earlier and more scientific cosmogony, and to point out that not only 
is it perfectly in accordance with the latest ascertained facts, but that it is 
probably "more scientific than the scientists," in that it recognized clearly 
the dual character of evolution, while modern thought manifests too 
great a tendency to onesidedness. 

The doctrine of this first cosmogony of Genesis is that of the 
formation of the phenomenal universe by the expansive or emanative 
power of the great unmanifested Reality, or underlying Divine Vigor 
in virtue of which existence is possible. This unmanifested Reality has 
no name in the West, but it may be called with the Hindu Vedantins, 
Parabrahm. After a period of Cosmic rest called in the East a Night 
of Brahma, the Unmanifested, by its inherent expansive power, sends 
forth from itself a series of emanations. 

The first emanation, the only Divine and eternal one, which is con- 
ceived as lasting even through the Night of Brahma, is the Logos. 
The second emanation is what was called by the cabalistic philosophers 
the "fifth essence," counting "fire," "air," "water," and "earth" as the 
other four. It may be termed "Spiritual Ether." From Ether proceeded 
the element called by the cabalists "fire" ; from fire proceeded "air" ; from 
air proceeded the element "water" ; from water, "earth." 

These five ether, fire, air, water, earth, are the five emanations 
which, in their various phases and combinations, make up the phe- 
nomenal universe, the Logos being considered Divine and subjective, 
or noumenal. From Earth sprang, in order, the vegetable and animal 
kingdoms, and finally Man. 

The "elements," as understood in the above classification, are by 
no means to be confounded with the elements of modern chemistry; 
they are arrived at by an entirely different though equally scientific 
course of reasoning. 

In the cosmogony of Genesis the Divine Underlying Reality is 
called God. The expansive power by which, after the period of cosmic 
rest, the phenomenal universe was formed is thus described: 
"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth." 

This "in the beginning," marks off from eternity the point at which 
the present period of cosmic activity, or Day of Brahma, began; when 
the Universe proceeded from "the everlasting bosom of God" to which 
it must return when this period comes to an end. Modern scientists 
are not without some dim perception of this process of emanation and 



262 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

absorption, as may be seen from the speculations in the "Unseen Uni- 
verse," x though the authors of this work confine themselves chiefly to 
the last emanation, that of physical matter from the emanation which 
preceded it. Whence the universe emerged, thither also must it return; 
a truth clear to the pure insight of Shakespeare 

". . . Like the baseless fabric of this vision, 
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, 
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, 
Leave not a rack behind." 

God, the eternal Parabrahm, remains unchanged; with God remains the 
Logos, the first and eternal emanation 

"The spirit of God . . . 

which, dove-like, sat brooding on the vast abyss." 
This "vast abyss," or, as it is styled in the cosmogony of Genesis 
"The face of the waters," 

is what we called the elemental Ether, the "Akasa" of the Upanishads. 
It is of ethereal nature, and is the plane of sound, answering to the 
sense of hearing; that it is the plane of sound has been taught by the 
Brahmans and the cabalists, and may be inferred from various consid- 
erations, amongst others from the difficulty of locating sounds in their 
immediate material sources (they having, as it were, an immaterial 
character), and from their spiritual, ethereal nature. 

This element of ether has within it the possibility of innumerable 
sounds and changes of sound; according to the cabalists the sound 
becomes apparent to our senses only when it strikes against a material 
object, such as a vibrating violin-string, which becomes merely a point 
of reflection for the all-pervading element of sound; just as a beam of 
sunlight becomes apparent only by reflection from particles of dust 
floating in the air. 2 

Next in order after the emanation of ether, the matrix of sound, 
comes the elemental Light, the "fire-element" of the cabalists. It cor- 
responds to the plane of colour and the sense of sight, which should 
rightly be called the "colour-sense." For colour is really the only quality 
perceived by the eye. "All objects," says Ruskin, "appear to the human 
eye simply as masses of colour. Take a crocus, and put it on a green 
cloth. You will see it detach itself as a mere space of yellow from the 



1 "The Unseen Universe," by Professors Balfour Stewart and P. G. Tait 
<C. J.) 

2 While taking this view of sound, we are, of course, perfectly acquainted 
with modern researches and speculations on the subject. Our standpoint, how- 
ever, is so widely different from that of modern science that no comparison 
with its teachings is possible. 



THE TIDE OF LIFE 263 

green behind it, as it does from the grass. Hold it up against the 
window, you will see it detach itself as a dark space against the white 
or blue behind it. In either case its outline is the limit of the space 
of colour by which it expresses itself to your sight. The fact is that 
all nature is seen as a mosaic composed of graduated portions of dif- 
ferent colours." J This light, or colour-element, is a pure element con- 
taining within itself the possibility of all varieties of colour. After its 
formation, we find the words 

"The evening and the morning were the first day," 

introducing the element of time first with this emanation. The Logos 
is, as we have seen, eternal; and the immaterial, semi-physical element 
of Ether is, as it were, the borderland between the subjective eternal 
Logos and the objective elements of fire, air, water, and earth. 

After this light-emanation conies the element called by the cabalists 
"Air." Its formation in the cosmogony of Genesis is marked by the 
words 

"The Elohim said, Let there be an Expanse." 

This word, for a long time wrongly translated "firmament," is 
chosen to express the air element, because from this element we derive 
the idea of the extension or expansiveness of a body its ability to fill 
a certain quantity of space. The air-element corresponds to the sense 
of touch, so far as this sense conveys the idea of "expansiveness" or 
"extension." The sense of touch differs from the senses of sound and 
sight, in that it is distributed all over the surface of the skin, while 
they are confined to definite sense-organs, or spaces of localized sensi- 
tiveness, and, in proportion as the eye and ear have gained in sensitive- 
ness to light and sound, the rest of the skin has lost its power of 
responding to these sensations. The whole surface of the body is, on 
the contrary, still sensitive to touch, as also to the sensation of heat. 2 
There is reason to believe that at one time the body's whole surface 
could respond equally to all sensations ; 3 the special organs of sense 
not being then developed, just as the whole surface of the jelly fish 
still responds to the stimulus of light. An analogy to this condition 
of unspecialized sensitiveness is furnished by modern experiments in 
thought transference, from which it appears that the sensations of 
sound, colour, taste, touch, and smell are all transferred from one 
mind to another with equal ease. There are some grounds for the 
belief that when an organ is specialized for some particular sensation 
it loses the power of responding to other sensations; that the retina, 



Luskin, "Lectures on Art," p. 125. 

2 For speculations on a specialized heat sense we may refer to Mr. R. A. Proc- 
tor's ideal visit to Saturn's Satellites. 

'Readers will remember the translations which appeared in The Path some 
time ago giving the German Mystic Kernning's teachings hereupon. (W. Q. J.) 



264 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

for instance, will be insensible to heat. 1 The sensations of heat and 
touch are, as we have seen, distributed over the whole surface of the skin ; 
and from this fact, among others, we are led to consider heat as well 
as touch an attribute of the element "air." Another reason for this 
conclusion is the fact that we find heat always associated with expan- 
siveness, or extension. As elucidating this point we may quote the 
researches in the solidification of gases, and speculations on "absolute 
zero" in temperature, though want of space precludes us from more 
than merely referring to them. After air comes the element of water, 
marked in the Genesis cosmogony by the words : 

"The Elohim said, Let the waters be gathered together." 

This elemental water corresponds to the sense of taste, and in part 
to the idea of molecular motion; the motion of masses being one of the 
ideas attached to the Air-element. It might be thought that the sensa- 
tion of taste might also be derived from solid bodies; but that this is 
not so may be inferred from recent scientific researches, which have 
demonstrated that all bodies, even the metals, and ice far below zero, are 
covered with a thin layer of liquid, and it is from this liquid layer that 
we get the sensation of taste from solids. In this element of 
water are the potentialities of innumerable tastes, every organic body, 
and even minerals and metals, having a distinctive taste; zinc and steel 
among the metals for instance, and sugar, vinegar, and wine in the 
organic world. 

This element is followed by the last emanation, the Earth-element 
of the cabalists, marked in the cosmogony of Genesis by the words, 

"The Elohim said, Let the dry land appear, and it was so, and 
the Elohim called the dry land Earth." 

This emanation corresponds to the extreme of materiality, solidity, 
and, amongst the senses, to smell. A piece of camphor, for example, 
throws off small solid particles in every direction, and these, coming 
in contact with the nerves specialized to this sense, produce the sensation 
of smell. This Earth-element is the last emanation strictly so-called. 
To this point the outer expansion of Parabrqhm has been tending, 
and from this point the wave of spirit must again recede. 

It must be here stated that these elements, fire, air, water, and 
earth, are not what we ordinarily mean by these terms, but are, so to 
speak, the pure elemental or spiritual counterparts of these. Down to 
this point, Form has been gradually developing, being destined to com- 
bine with each of the elements in turn, in the ascending scale. 

"Where the daisies are rose-scented, 
And the rose herself has got 
Perfume which on earth is not." 



1 Vide some experiments with thermal rays in Tyndall's "Heat a Mode of 
Motion." 



THE TIDE OF LIFE 265 

Form exists on an ideal plane, as a purely abstract conception; 
into this region, and the similar one of Number, pure mathematics 
have penetrated. 1 

Modern speculations, 2 as well as the ancient cabalists, have asserted 
that every geometrical form, as well as every number, has a definite, 
innate relation to some particular entity on the other planes, to some 
colour or tone for instance ; and there is good reason to believe that this 
holds true of all the planes, that the entities on each of them are bound 
to the entities on all the others by certain spiritual relations which run 
like threads of gold through the different planes, binding them all 
together in one Divine Unity. 3 

From the standpoint of the terrestrial Globe, the first modification 
of the last emanation, Primordial Earth, is the mineral kingdom, in 
which the primal earthy matter is modified by the element of Form. 
There is every reason to believe that, if any existing mineral or metal 
could be reduced to the condition of "primordial earth," it could be 
reformed into any other mineral or metal. The specialization of the 
minerals, or "formation of the mineral kingdom," is perhaps marked 
in the Genesis-Cosmogony by the words, 

"The Elohim called the dry land Earth," 

Name and Form being cognate attributes of a specialized entity. As we 
have seen the gradual evolution of form in the descent from spirit to 
matter, so the gradual dissipation of form will be seen in the ascent 
from matter to spirit. The crystal, for example, retains its form always 
unchanged, and the form of the tree is more lasting than that of the 
bird or animal. The second modification of the Earth element, still 



1 It is through the power to see and use these "abstract" forms that the 
Adept is able to evolve before our eyes any object desired a miracle to the 
Christian, a fraud for the materialist. Countless myriads of forms are in that 
ideal sphere, and matter exists in the astral light, or even in the atmosphere, 
that has passed through all forms possible for us to conceive of. All that the 
Adept has to do is to select the "abstract form" desired, then to hold it before 
him with a force and intensity unknown to the men of this hurried age, while 
he draws into its boundaries the matter required to make it visible. How easy 
this to state, how difficult to believe ; yet quite true, as many a theosophist very 
well knows. The oftener this is done with any one form, the easier it becomes. 
And so it is with Nature: her ease of production grows like a habit. (H. P. B.) 

2 "Geometrical Psychology," Miss Louisa Cook. 

3 Here is the key so much desired by enterprising indeed all students. It 
is by means of these correllations of color, sound, form, number, and substance 
that the trained will of the Initiate rules and uses the denizens of the elemental 
world. Many theosophists have had slight conscious relations with elementals, 
but always without their will acting, and, upon trying to make elementals see, 
hear, or act for them, a total indifference on the part of the nature spirit is all 
they have got in return. These failures are due to the fact that the elemental can- 
not understand the thought of the person; it can only be reached when the exact 
scale of being to which it belongs is vibrated, whether it be that of colour, form, 
sound, or whatever else. (H. P. B.) 



266 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

from the standpoint of the world, is the vegetable kingdom, in which 
to form and substance is added molecular motion, or vitality, called 
in Brahman cosmologies J'wa. 

This vitality, or capacity for molecular change, corresponds, as we 
have seen, to the water element; one of the elements, in ascending 
order of spirituality, being picked up by each of the successive king- 
doms of ascending evolution. The formation of the vegetable kingdom 
is marked in the Genesis cosmogony by the words 

"The earth brought forth grass, herb yielding seed, and tree 
bearing fruit," 

words which point to a perfectly natural evolutionary process under 
the energizing power of spirit the physical aspect of which is the 
"Tendency to Evolution" of the Scientists, and not that violent and 
unnatural process termed a "creative act." 

We may remark, by the way, that the three divisions of the vege- 
table kingdom in this cosmogony correspond to three perfectly well 
defined geological epochs, that of the Cryptograms, of the Phaenogams, 
and of the Fruit-trees, examples of which are respectively ferns, pines, 
and orange-trees. 1 

These two changes of matter are looked at, as we have said, 
from the standpoint of the Earth. The cosmogony now pauses, and, 
in order to make its account of Evolution complete, inserts here the 
first change of the same element from a different point of view, that 
of astronomy. This first change is the congregation of the primal 
nebulous matter into suns and planets, marked by the words 

"The Elohim said, Let there be Lights in the firmament," 

the sun, moon, and stars being subsequently particularized. From our 
previous views of the Elemental Light we shall be fully prepared to 
infer that, just as what we call sonant bodies seem not to be real 
sound-creators, but merely sound-reflectors, so these "Lights in the 
firmament" may not be real light-creators, but merely light-reflectors; 
and this view is borne out by the fact that in this cosmogony the 
formation of Light precedes that of the Light-givers. Leaving the 
astronomical standpoint, let us consider the next step in upward 
evolution. 

To the shape, substance, and vitality of the plant drawn respec- 
tively from the Elements of Form, Earth, and Water the animal king- 
dom adds locomotion, corresponding to the Air element, one attribute of 
which we have seen to be that locomotion, or movement as a whole, 
which distinguishes the animal from the plant. Thus we see another 
link of the ascending chain of the elements picked up. The earliest 
representatives of this kingdom are, as modern science has shewn, the 



*For further information on this point readers are referred to "The Color- 
Sense" by Grant Allen. 



THE TIDE OF LIFE 267 

protozoa, water-animalcules. Their formation is correctly placed first 
in the Genesis cosmogony, marked by the words 

"The Elohim said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the 
moving creature which hath life." 

Here we again find words which distinctly mark a perfectly natural 
process of development. Just as we had the earth "bringing forth 
grass" or "sprouting forth sproutage," to translate it more literally 
we now have the waters "bringing forth the moving creature which hath 
life," as soon as proper cosmic and elemental conditions were pre- 
sented. If the proper cosmic and elemental conditions could be arti- 
ficially produced, we have every reason to believe the "tendency of 
Evolution," or the "Downward pressure of spirit," might again cause 
the waters to produce the "moving creature which hath life" the 
monera, in fact, that what is unscientifically termed "spontaneous gen- 
eration" might take place. After this follows the formation of fish, 
birds, and beasts, the vertebrates or "back boned" creatures; the 
invertebrates being grouped under the two general heads of the "mov- 
ing creatures in the water" and the "creeping things upon the earth." 
In the account of the production of the animal kingdom and of the 
birds, we have terms used which could only apply to a natural process 
of development, and not to a "creative act." 

"The Elohim said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature 
after its nature, cattle, and the beasts of the earth." 

The Animal Kingdom adds to the plant the quality of locomotion 
under the stimulus of the instincts, which corresponds, as we have 
seen, to the air-element. A slight consideration of the nature of this 
locomotion under stimulus will shew that we are justified in assigning 
this quality, with its distinctive element, to the principle of Kama in 
certain Eastern classifications. 1 

Could this principle or, rather, the specialized portion of the 
air-element embodying it be isolated from the lower elements, we 
should have a sort of aeriform vehicle, or ethereal body, depending 
for its form on the attractions specializing it. Of such an isolated 
air-body we shall speak when we come to treat of the elements. 

Three times has the earth brought forth, plants, fishes, animals. 
But at this point we perceive a change. Evolution so far, from the 
mineral, through the vegetable, up to the animal, appears as an ascend- 
ing arc. In this the cosmogony of Genesis agrees with the sacred 
theories of the East, as well as with the views of modern science. But 
in Man we find a turning point, at which the ancient cosmogonies agree 
in branching off from modern science. The sacred theories of the 
East teach that man is the result of two converging curves of evolution, 
the one curve ascending through the vegetable and animal kingdom and 



1 Vide "Esoteric Buddhism," chapter on "The constitution of man." 



268 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

marking the evolution of the physical body, while the other curve 
descends from a superphysical, spiritual race, called by some the 
"Progenitors" or "Pitris," by others the "Planetary Spirits" or "De- 
scending Dhyan Chohans." This curve marks the downward evolution 
of man's spiritual nature, the development of the soul. 1 

As we should expect from the Oriental character and high an- 
tiquity of the cosmogony of Genesis, dating as it does from a time 
when the "downward evolution of the soul" had not progressed so far 
as it now has, and when man had not yet lost his spiritual insight, we 
find this doctrine of man's divine progenitors clearly visible. In the 
case of the plants, animals, and marine creatures, we found terms applied 
which could only be used of a regular, unbroken process. When we 
reach Man, a new and striking expression is introduced 

"The Elohim created man in their image, in the image of the 
Elohim created they man." 

The pressure of the descending evolution of the Planetary Spirits 
or Elohim seeking for objective, physical existence upon the previously 
formed animal kingdom, caused the evolution of a fitting physical vehicle 
from the highest representatives of that kingdom. Hence we get physi- 
cal man as we know him, descended on the one side from the animal 
kingdom, and on the other from his divine progenitors, the Planetary 
Spirits. We have compared this dual evolution to two converging 
curves. A too great attraction towards the material, physical side of 
man's nature keeps the modern materialist from seeing more than one 
of these curves. The modern Scientist is colour-blind to spirit, to him 
man is merely 

"A quintessence of dust." 

But to intuitional minds at the present day, as to our more spiritual 
ancestors, both curves are visible; besides the physical man they could 
see the spiritual man 

"In action like an angel; in apprehension like a God." 

To return to the standpoint from which we viewed the previous 
kingdoms, we perceive that the introduction of this new factor in evolu- 



1 There is an important point in the teachings of the Secret Doctrine which 
has been continually neglected. The above described evolution the spiritual fall- 
ing into the physical, or from mineral up to man, takes place only during the first 
and the two subsequent Rounds. At the beginning of the fourth "Round" in the 
middle of which begins the turning point upward i.e., from the physical up to the 
spiritual, man is said to appear before anything else on earth, the vegetation which 
covered the earth belonging to the third Round, and being quite ethereal, trans- 
parent. The first man (Humanity) is Ethereal too, for he is but the shadow 
(Chhaya) "in the image" of his progenitors, because he is the "astral body" or 
image of his Pitar (father). This is why in India gods are said to have no 
shadows. After which and from this primeval race, evolution supplies man with a 
"coat of skin" from the terrestrial elements and kingdoms mineral, vegetable, and 
animal. [H. P. B.] 



THE TIDE OF LIFE 269 

tion corresponds to the addition from above of a new element in the 
series of ascending- spirituality. With man is added the Fire-Element, 
in its aspect of the divine light or reason. It corresponds to Manas in 
Eastern systems. Another aspect of Manas, considered idealistically 
this time, by virtue of which it "creates for itself an external world 
of delight" (Vide Sankaracharya's "Viveka Chudamani"}, would cor- 
respond to the quality of colour in the fire element. Of the earliest 
races of men we learn that they were purely frugivorous and perhaps 
androgyne. 

With the formation of man the cosmogony of Genesis closes. We 
are justified in supposing that, as the union of form with the elements 
of Earth, Water, Air, and Fire produced the objective Mineral, Vege- 
table, Animal, and Human kingdoms, so these elements, divorced from 
Form, should have their appropriate kingdoms of beings, or forms of 
life, if we can use this term for something so widely different from 
all ordinary forms of life. These subjective kingdoms of the four 
elements would correspond to the Rosicrucian conceptions of "primor- 
dial earth" and the "Fire, Air, and Water Elementals." 

We may go further than this, and, carrying on our inference, 
postulate for the spiritual ether, and even for the divine Logos, their 
appropriate qualities of being. To a conception somewhat similar to 
what the last of these would involve, the Gnostics gave the name of 
Aeons; for the first the ether beings we have the Indian titles of 
gandharva, celestial musician, or Deva. But having gone thus far, 
we are driven a step further. We have already seen all the links 
in the chain of elements in ascending spirituality picked up one by one 
by the ascending tide of Evolution, up to the elemental fire; let us 
advance a step, and postulate that the other two emanations or planes 
the Ether- Spirit and the Logos should ultimately be picked up by the 
Evolutionary tide. With the resumption of the first, instead of a 
human being we should have a "Spiritual Man," and from a reunion 
with the Logos we should have a "Divine Man, Perfected and Eternal," 
or, giving to these conceptions the names already appropriated to them 
in the East, we should have in the first case a Mahatma, in the second 
a perfect Buddha. 

It is now time to point out that the pure elements of Ether, Fire, 
Air, Water, and Earth are not these bodies as we know them. The 
five classes of objects (corresponding to these five elements) known to 
us, being all on the physical plane, all belong properly to a single cate- 
gory, and may be called for the sake of distinction the Mundane 
Elements. To make this clearer, let us suppose that Mundane Earth 
the mineral kingdom in its various forms is composed of five parts 
of the element earth while Mundane Water (everything cognized by the 
sense of taste) is composed of four parts of the element of earth added 
to one part of the element of water. Similarly the Air-element known to 



270 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

us on the physical plane (corresponding, as we have seen, to the sense 
of touch) is composed of four parts of the earth element, with one part 
of the pure elemental air added; and the Fire and Ether elements as 
known to our physical or waking consciousness are each composed 
of four parts with one part of fire and ether respectively added. 

These considerations will prepare us to believe that the real ele- 
ments are purer and more spiritual than their representatives on the 
physical plane, 1 and that they will be represented by different compounds 
on each plane (or as it is called in some works, planet) on the water 
plane (or planet) : for instance, what we may for convenience term 
Undine Earth will be represented by four parts of the Water element 
and one part of the earth-element; Undine water will be five parts 
elemental water; while Undine air will be composed of four parts ele- 
mental water, added to one part elemental air, and so on. 

The composition of the elements as present on each plane or planet 
may similarly be deduced by observing carefully the principle which 
governs these combinations. We should warn our readers that these 
examples are given by way of illustration, and not as representing 
accurately and numerically the combined elements as they actually 
occur; they are really formed on a much more complex principle. 2 

In our illustrations we have, for convenience sake, confined our- 
selves to the five objective elements, though of course it must not be 
forgotten that the energizing spirit runs through the whole series on 
every plane. 

The pure spiritual or elemental ether is the macrocosmic counter- 
part of that principle of the microcosm termed Buddhi by eastern 
mystics. 3 

The Logos corresponds to Atma in the same speculations. 

We have seen that to the four principles Form or Linga, Vitality 
or Jiva, Substance or Sthula Sarira, motion under desire or Kama of 
the animal, Man has added a fifth, corresponding to the macrocosmic 
elemental Fire, human reason, or Manas. 

Our speculations as to the two superhuman Kingdoms are also in 
harmony with these eastern theories; the element of Buddhi being 
added to form the Mahatma; and Atma completing the Buddha, per- 
fected and divine. 



1 This is one reason for calling the objective phenomenal world an "illusion." 
It is an illusion and ever impermanent because the matter of which the objects 
are composed continually returns to the primordial condition of matter, where 
it is invisible to mortal eyes. The earth, water, air, and fire that we think we 
see are respectively only the effects produced on our senses by the primordial 
matter held in either of the combinations that bring about the vibration properly 
belonging to those classes : the moment the combination is entirely broken, the 
phenomena cease and we see the objects no more. [H. P. B.] 

2 Vide "Man ; Fragments of Forgotten History," p. 13, note. 

3 Vide "Esoteric Buddhism." 



THE TIDE OF LIFE 271 

The perfect Buddha, though not possessing a physical body, or, 
indeed, being united to principles on any of the objective planes, will 
still retain the spiritual counterparts of these principles, corresponding 
to groups of experiences gained on each plane. It is by these spiritual 
principles that the Buddha is richer than the Aeon; it is in virtue of 
them that the Ascending excels the Descending Planetary Spirit, or 
Dhyan Chohan. These spiritual principles constitute the end and aim 
of evolution, and justify the cosmic expansion and involution. 

The evolutionary tide, in generating the higher kingdoms, has 
flowed, as we have seen, from the earth-element towards pure Spirit. 
In obedience to this tendency, man in achieving his apotheosis must, 
gradually loosing his hold on the world of Matter, add to his treasure 
in the worlds divine; until humanity becomes ever freer, stronger, and 
more perfect, and returns at last, refreshed, to his home in the bosom 
of the perfect God. 

CHARLES JOHNSTON, 

F. T. s. 



WHY SHOULD I WANT TO 
BE A SAINT? 



THIS question is not as simple as it seems. Theoretically every- 
one should want to be a saint, and, if asked the question point 
blank, many people would say so. But if the questioner persisted, 
and asked, "Why do you want to be a saint?" the replies would 
vary widely, and in nearly every case, would be inadequate, vague, uncon- 
vincing and unreal. Such people know but little more than the other, 
and perhaps larger, category who, in reply to the original question, 
would say frankly and flatly, "I don't want to be a saint." 

The fact is that we all should greatly desire to become saints and 
if we knew enough the desire would be one of the main motives of our 
lives. 

Let us take up, first, those who do not desire to be saints and 
who say so. What is the matter? The answer is ignorance. They 
understand neither what being a saint means, nor what not trying to 
be one leads to. It is difficult for a reader of this magazine to realize 
how utterly ignorant the average man and woman is about such things, 
for no one reads the QUARTERLY who is not interested to some extent in 
saintliness, and no one can be interested without knowing something 
about it. The vast majority of people, however, do not read the 
QUARTERLY or anything else which bears on the spiritual life; they do 
not talk about it; and sedulously eschew thinking about it. It is a 
distinct shock and a most uncomfortable experience when they are 
accidentally brought face to face with something or some person which 
thrusts it on their unwilling attention. I remember very well an amusing 
incident that happened to me once when a prominent banker with whom 
I had a slight acquaintance happened to sit down next to me in a smoking 
car, and asked me what I was reading. It was an innocent looking, 
red-covered book of the novel size, but its title showed that it was a 
treatise not only on religion, but on an intimate and personal kind of 
religion. I handed the book to him without comment. He looked at the 
title negligently, stared at it again with blank amazement, looked at me 
to be sure he had not mistaken me for some one else, and handed me 
back the book very much as a bachelor hands back a young baby which 
a foolish mother has forced into his unwilling arms. The poor man 
was so uncomfortable and embarrassed that I was sorry for him. He 
had never read such a book in his life, and he had not supposed that 
he knew the kind of people who did. Yet here was a man he knew, 
whose father he knew, with whom he had done business just as if he 
was an ordinary person, and yet who read extraordinary books about 
queer and uncomfortable things ; things "he had long ago relegated to the 
limbo of exploded superstitions ; things he refused to think about. 



WHY SHOULD I WANT TO BE A SAINT? 273 

That man ought to want to be a saint and ought to be trying to 
be a saint, and at the last analysis it is nothing but sheer ignorance that 
prevents him making the effort. There are, of course, many elements 
in his nature which would make the task difficult, for he is thoroughly 
worldly, loves pleasure and all forms of self-indulgence and luxury, he 
is a gambler, a constant seeker after excitement and distraction, and 
thoroughly selfish and self -centered. In other words, he is an ordinary, 
typical, average man. But in spite of all these handicaps, if he only knew 
the simple facts, he would still try to become a saint: he could not 
help it, for in spite of his faults, he is intelligent and quite capable of 
foregoing immediate satisfaction in order to attain a greater deferred 
satisfaction. That is all that is required of a disciple. He must forego 
the immediate realization of his small desires in order to gratify, even- 
tually, a great desire. Every successful man does exactly the same thing, 
and exercises exactly the same kind of restraint. Even the things they 
refrain from are often the same. The football player or the prize-fighter 
has to be an ascetic during his periods of training, and the business man 
or diplomat will deny himself rich food and much drink, when he has 
to undertake some specially difficult piece of negotiation. The soldier's 
whole training is a foregoing of his usual mental, moral and physical 
habits in order to qualify for a new kind of life. Discipline is a name 
given to this kind of restraint. There is extraordinarily little difference 
between the discipline of a soldier and the discipline of a disciple, save that 
the latter is more thorough, and deals more with inner essentials and less 
with outer forms. The soldier's real training depends upon the reaction 
which the observance of a multitude of outer forms will have upon his 
character. The disciple is not permitted to neglect outer observances, 
but he directs his chief attention and effort directly to his character and 
deals with that as such. A soldier's training is better adapted to elemen- 
tary human beings. The results sought after are practically the same in 
each case. This however is a digression. 

The reason why my banker acquaintance, and perhaps the majority 
of men and women, do not wish to become saints, and would say so if 
asked, is because they are completely ignorant of what being a 
saint means, and because they imagine it to be the antithesis of pretty 
much everything they think they want. Please note that there are several 
qualifying phrases in that statement. It will not be easy to explain them 
all and to make clear just what I mean, but let me try. 

Take an average good man, with an average education, and with 
average tastes. In the first place he has never taken any interest in 
religion. It bored him if, as may have happened, he was forced to go 
to church and Sunday school when a child. He stopped going as soon 
as he was old enough to have freedom. He may have kept on saying 
some perfunctory prayer when he was not too sleepy, in a mechanical 
kind of way, more or less because of habit, a little because of a very 
vague feeling that it might after all be the safe thing to do; but secretly 

18 



274 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

he would be rather ashamed of this as an evidence of weak-mindedness, 
and he would be careful not to let any one suppose that he did such a 
thing. I know of one man of middle age, who only knew three prayers 
but who was fairly faithful in reciting them for many years, until he 
learned really to pray. One was the Lord's Prayer, and the other two 
were taught him in early childhood. 

"Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep. 
If I should die before I wake, 
I pray the Lord my soul to take." 



"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, 
Look upon Thy little child. 
Pity my simplicity, 
And suffer me to come to Thee." 

There is something touching and something pathetic in the thought 
of a grown man faithfully repeating such prayers, year after year, because 
he knew no others ; of his holding on to these childish expressions of 
faith, through the years, because they were the only method he knew of 
expressing a true instinct, and of giving his poor, struggling and starved 
soul, a little nutriment. He got his chance for further knowledge and 
took it; but our average man would have long ago stopped praying at 
all, and would gradually have acquired the materialistic point of view 
that there is no one to pray to, and that it is a silly superstition; that 
the desire to pray is a survival of a vague fear of the unknown which 
was characteristic of the childhood of the race, and that a modern edu- 
cated man should be above such weak sentimentality. Indeed, those two 
last words sum up the average man's attitude towards saints towards 
religion. He thinks he ought to think that the whole business is 
sentimental and weak, that it belongs to women, children and a few priests 
whom he thinks of as a sort of hybrid compound of woman, child and 
man. He is very much inclined to doubt the honesty and good faith of 
any educated man who professes faith in religion. There is a very 
general belief that such men are hypocrites, who pretend for the sake 
of an easy living. Saints, if he condescended at all to state what he 
thinks of them, would probably be described according to his own 
knowledge of modern psychology ; as neuro-psychopathic hysteriacs ; as 
suffering from hallucinations ; or as harmless, but mildly insane indi- 
viduals whose obsessions took the form of austerity and self-denial. He 
might grant that they had done some fine things under the influence of 
th'eir fixed ideas, and would regret the waste of such good material. 
If our average man knew nothing of modern psychology, he would 
describe a saint as a plain damn fool who had wheels in his head which 
prevented his living and enjoying life in a rational way as God evidently 



WHY SHOULD I WANT TO BE A SAINT? 275 

intended us to do, or he would not have given us the capacity to enjoy 
various pleasures with which we are endowed. He will tell you that the 
practices and habits and vows of the saints are contrary to nature, and 
he will point out finally, with an air of triumph, that if everyone turned 
saint there would soon no longer be any people left, and that he is quite 
sure God did not intend the human race to become extinct. If you point 
out mildly that there is only one saint to about every ten millions or so 
who are not, and that the propagation of the race can safely be left to 
the ten million, he will tell you that you are illogical, that what is right 
for one is right for all ; which of course is not so. 

The point is that both types of average man think of the saint as 
some kind of an abnormal and unhealthy excrescence upon the human fam- 
ily, who may show some interesting, and even extraordinary tendencies 
and capacities, but who, on the whole, is acting contrary to the orderly 
and normal life of humanity, and who, therefore, is objectionable. They 
are, of course, completely ignorant of what saints really are from the 
point of view of ordinary history as well as from the point of view of 
character, capacities and attainments. Indeed, and this is our immediate 
point, the average man of whatever type, is so completely and invincibly 
ignorant, that it is quite a hopeless task to change him and to hope that 
he ever can be persuaded to want to be a saint. Therefore we shall 
dismiss him and go back to our other category of those who do know 
something, and who, if asked, would feel it incumbent to say, "Of course 
I want to be a saint" ; but who, if asked "why ?" would be unable to give 
a satisfactory or convincing answer. What of these? 

Their case is not hopeless for they have instincts to which you can 
appeal, and a will that makes it possible for them to understand. Let us 
see if we can describe their point of view. It must of necessity be very 
rough and very general, for it must include many degrees of knowledge 
and many shades of opinion. I am going to take it on what I would call a 
fairly high plane, and assume that our average individual of this category 
has read some lives of some of the famous saints, and that he has some 
general knowledge of the religious life, its ideal and its purposes. 

He would say that a saint is a very extraordinary person who seemed 
to be without the common human appetites and desires, who was above 
temptation, who found a strange satisfaction in meditation and prayer 
and religious exercises which he was able to continue for hours and 
days and indeed a whole life-time; who in brief seemed to live on a 
plane, and in a state of consciousness, utterly different from that of 
every-day people, and which enabled him to thrive on a diet of self-denial 
and self-sacrifice. The saint, moreover, had generally removed himself 
from close contact with ordinary humanity and lived an isolated and use- 
less life, at least from a practical and worldly standpoint. Indeed, a very 
common complaint about saints is that while they are wonderfully good 
and pious, they are not really as fine individuals as the man who works 
in the world and for the world in a productive and creative manner. 



276 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Many would unquestionably give Florence Nightingale a higher rank in 
the human hierarchy than St. Teresa of Avila. They would grade Father 
Damien higher than St. Bonaventura. Furthermore they would say very 
frankly that they considered the idea of their really trying to be a saint 
preposterous ; or if they would not say so, they would secretly really 
think so. Away down in the bottom of their hearts they would have a 
feeling that saints are not really virile and strong. Many a man would 
say, "Really, I somehow do not feel that saints are manly in the best 
sense of that word. Of course some of them showed marvellous courage, 
and many of them had extraordinary endurance. If you actually select 
any adjective descriptive of an altogether admirable human quality, they 
usually had it to an unusual degree. And if you take any adjective 
descriptive of an objectionable quality, they were usually without it to 
an unusual degree ; but in spite of this I somehow feel that there is some- 
thing lacking. Perhaps it is fairer to say that in spite of their fine 
qualities and virtues, they have a streak of morbidness about them which 
undermines their virtues. Or perhaps a strain of weakness and senti- 
mentality which, Oh, well, I cannot describe what I mean. I only 
know that if I am perfectly honest I find that there is something absent, 
or something present, in my conception of a saint, which makes me not 
very keen to try to be one, in spite of my agreement in theory with the 
statement that everyone should want to be one." 

Exactly. The real, and the only trouble with our typical friend is 
that down in the bottom of a large part of his heart, he does not want 
to be a saint ; or, to be more specific, he does not want to do the things 
and to give up the things which he must do, and must give 
up, in order to become a saint ; and his mind struggles valiantly 
to furnish him with excuses and reasons which even a little 
knowledge sweep away as fast as his brain manufactures them. 
So far as this method of approach is concerned we can dismiss 
it with the general statement that there are no fine and desirable qualities 
and powers and virtues which saints do not possess to a greater degree 
and in more abundant measure than ordinary people, and there are no 
objectionable qualities or vices or habits which they have to any extent 
worth mentioning. They are not perfect. They one and all lack some 
of the virtues, and they one and all had some faults, but there is no 
question whatever that they all possessed more of a greater number of 
virtues and less of a smaller number of faults than even the finest repre- 
sentatives of the human race who were not saints. This is so obvious that 
when I come to the part of this article which will attempt to define what 
a saint is, I shall probably offer as one definition, A saint is a human 
being who has more fine qualities and fewer faults than the highest speci- 
mens of ordinary humanity. However, as a saint is more than this, we 
must wait until we come to that part of the article. Before we do there is 
one more phase of the subject I want to point out. 

Human beings, as at present constituted, are complex organisms; 



WHY SHOULD I WANT TO BE A SAINT? 277 

which sounds biological and learned, but by which I mean that a human 
being is not a single person; he or she is really two persons. There 
is the soul, the divine ray, with its roots in the central spiritual life, from 
which it is an off-shoot ; and there is the personality, which that soul has 
built up in its effort to acquire self-consciousness. A saint, from this 
point of view, is a soul which has cleaned and trained and purified its 
personality, until there is very little of the personality left that cannot 
be permanently united to the soul and share in its immortality. An 
ordinary man, from this point of view, is a personality, who is a com- 
plicated mass of good and bad tendencies, which his soul is trying 
incessantly to clean and train and purify. And there you have in a 
nutshell, the fundamental difference between a saint and an ordinary, 
though perhaps a very good man. The saint is a soul with its personality 
in fairly good control; an ordinary man, no matter how good he may 
seem to be, is a personality whose soul is not yet in control. There are 
moments, sometimes hours, perhaps even days, when the soul is more 
or less in control, but the actual balance is still on the side of the 
personality. That person, from the standpoint of the spiritual world, 
is not yet "born," is not yet "whole." If he dies before this "second 
birth" takes place, he must be born again into physical birth, when the 
soul takes up the task again, about where it left off at the hour of death. 
That is, it will again have a personality, with the same virtues and vices, 
the same half -conquered faults, the same partially developed qualities and 
the same good and bad tendencies and inclinations. It must endow this 
new personality with consciousness, must wait until it goes through its 
infancy and childhood, and then must resume the great evolutionary duty 
of redeeming its creation, and so completing its own destiny. Sainthood 
is only a short stage on this age-long path. 

Let us clear up one or two misconceptions. Does a saint have to be 
a monk or nun, and live in a convent, or at least be in religious orders? 
I suppose a good many people would say "No" ; and yet even while saying 
"No" they actually do always associate saints with some formal and out- 
ward expression of the religious life. Of course I am using the word 
saint in its full technical sense and not as we use it when we hear of 
some good and noble person, and say, "She's a saint." We also might 
speak of such a person as an angel. We do not mean that they are dead 
and have wings, we mean merely that they are unusually good or unselfish, 
or self-sacrificing, all of them saintly qualities, but their presence, even 
in abundant measure, not necessarily making a person a saint ; nor do 
we mean that a saint is a person canonized by the church. The church 
has canonized many saints, but it has also canonized very many more 
who were not saints, and ignored or actually persecuted many who were. 

Here is a more difficult query. "Is a saint always necessarily out- 
wardly religious, even if not a priest or monk or nun? Could you be 
a saint and not follow any religious forms at all, even privately?" I 
think there have been saints who, for a time, lived anything but the kind 



278 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

of life we associate with saintliness, but this was an unnatural and 
artificial condition. An expressive religion, in its real sense, is as natural 
and inevitable to a saint as flying to a bird. It simply goes with the 
saint's kind of consciousness. It is native to that kind of consciousness 
to adore, praise, love, and express itself in all the ways we associate with 
the word "religion." Nevertheless, that is only one way in which a saint's 
consciousness works, and we must not let our general conception of a 
saint be too much coloured by this phase. Now what I mean by all this 
is important, and needs to be made clear and simple, so let us get at it 
from another angle. The nearer we approach the Master, the more of the 
Master's nature, qualities, capacities and feeling, we express. A saint 
being nearer the Master than we are, expresses more of Him than we 
do. I say it with reverence although it may sound irreverent, but most 
people think of the Master solely in terms of piety. It almost shocks 
them if they think of Him as eating, or washing, or sleeping, or taking 
a walk, because He desires some fresh air, or loves flowers, or wants 
to look at the sunset, or to get away from the crowd for a while. And 
yet we have reason to believe He did and does all these entirely simple 
and human things. The Bible gives us warrant for saying so positively 
of most of them. But we can go even further. We are convinced that 
He loves beauty, and literature, and art, and is most keenly interested 
in them. Still further, we must believe that He is not only interested 
in religion, but also in all other human activities, in politics and state- 
craft, in the progress of science and manufacturing, in inventions and 
education, in economics and sociology. Can any one suggest anything 
He is not interested in? Can there be any part of our complex human 
life that does not vitally affect the well-being and future of His children, 
and can we think of His ignoring any of it? It may sound almost 
impious and irreverent to say that He is interested in industrial chemistry, 
but He is. I confess to the feeling that that is not likely to be a subject 
which moves Him deeply, but I am convinced that He knows all about 
it, admires the ingenuity and painstaking research which has been devoted 
to it, and deplores the time and attention which has been wasted on an 
activity which does not advance our real welfare, and which, for all I 
know, may actually retard it. But interested of course. So with war. 
We associate goodness and holiness with softness. Oh ! yes, I know that 
in theory, we grant that that is not so, but in actual fact we all do, and 
we find it hard to associate goodness and holiness with war. But as 
a matter of fact, if it were not for goodness and holiness there would 
be no war, for it is just such qualities which have kept war alive and a 
fact in nature. If it were not for the perpetual and unceasing fight 
which goodness and holiness wage against evil, we poor weak humans 
would have been creatures of the devil long ago, and the world would 
have perished in complete and irreparable disaster. Therefore the Master 
is interested in war, and He must excel as a general as He excels in 
everything else. 



WHY SHOULD I WANT TO BE A SAINT? 279 

Now the point of all this is to give us a rough and ready, but 
rounded view of the nature of the Master. We are too prone to think of 
Him as High Priest, and not enough as the perfect exponent of all that 
is good and beautiful and true. All the human qualities which we admire, 
or, to allow for our own ignorance and limitations let us say all the 
human qualities which we should admire, find in Him their apotheosis, 
their perfect flowering. This must be so, for we get everything that is 
good in us from Him, or it would not exist. 

To go back now to our saint. He, the saint, expresses more of the 
Master than we do. See the point? A saint may express not merely 
the High Priest side of the Master, but he is equally a saint, if he 
expresses the necessary amount of any other part of the Master's 
nature. It would take all the saints that have ever lived or will ever 
live to express all of the Master's nature. Then indeed will He be fully 
incarnated. 

However, we must not press our point to an illogical conclusion. 
And I must try to guard against one possible misunderstanding. A person 
cannot be a real saint unless he has to some minimum degree a rounded 
development. A saint can, and usually does express some one quality 
of the Master to a dominant degree, but he could not do so unless he 
also expressed some measure of the other essential qualifications of 
saintliness. You cannot be very unselfish unless you are also loving, 
patient and gentle. You cannot express to a special degree the saintly 
quality of obedience without being also the other things a saint must be. 
Therefore, I must not be understood to mean that a wonderful industrial 
chemist is a saint. He might be, though that is unlikely. And if he were, 
it would not be because he was a wonderful chemist, but in spite of it. 
My point is that a real saint is often a very versatile person indeed, with 
all sorts of interests, capacities and endowments, which we do not 
ordinarily associate with the word at all, but he must also possess the 
essential elements of saintliness. He may be a general, or an author, or 
a business man. He may follow almost any profession or occupation, 
or have none at all, and he does not by any means have to be a monk 
or a priest or to follow the outer observances of any religion whatever. 
He may be famous, but is more likely to be obscure. He may even be 
rich, though more likely to be poor. He positively does not have to sing 
hymns and to read the Bible, unless he wants to, which he probably does, 
when his duties permit, which may be seldom, for he is sure to be a very 
busy person. He may never go to church as a matter of preference, or 
he may pass his life in religious observances. Being a saint is a question 
of fact and not a matter of any outer circumstances or conditions what- 
soever. You can be a saint in any environment, though obviously it is 
easier in some than in others. 

We have endeavored to describe what a saint is, or might be, and 
our picture would be incomplete if we stopped there. We must also 
try to imagine how a saint feels, for we would not want to be a saint 



280 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

unless being one felt good. Now how does a' saint feel ? First let us 
take up the question of prayers and religious exercises. We all feel that 
the average saint does a great deal more of this than we should like 
to do, and we do not see how we could ever really want to be a saint if 
being one meant that we should have to spend a large part of our time 
in religious observances. The answer is two-fold. First, the saint does 
not spend a lot of time praying because he ought to, but because he 
wants to. Second, religious exercises are like practising scales on the 
piano. We have to go through the tedium of doing it for hours every 
day, for years, if we want to become a first rate musician, but once we 
have become a musician we need play scales only enough to keep in 
practice. We have reached our goal; we have the reward of our efforts, 
of our sacrifice, we have the ability to play. I have never heard of a 
real musician who begrudged the effort and sacrifice which were expended 
in his education. Prayer, and other religious exercises, are a means to 
an end, unless and until they become the spontaneous and natural and 
entirely voluntary method of expressing one's self and one's feelings. 
In other words there is a general law of life. Anything worth having 
costs real effort and sacrifice. Saintliness is no exception. The reward 
of the faithful doing of a disagreeable task is that it ceases to be dis- 
agreeable. Of course that is not all, for it would be a soggy inducement 
to effort to be told that if you persisted faithfully in doing something 
you did not want to do you would learn not to mind it. 

The reward of practising scales is not that in the progress of time 
we cease to mind practising scales ; that would be most unalluring. The 
reward is that we learn how to play music; we acquire a new talent 
which gives us and others joy. All good talents, by the way, do always 
give others, as well as the possessor, joy. It is a test by which we can 
gauge them. 

Therefore when imagining how a saint feels, we must not think of 
him as merely ourselves in other conditions; as some one who bravely 
endures the tedium of endless religious observances because of his 
superior virtue. The saint has acquired a new talent, one we have not 
got, which is a joy to him and to others and which is the reward of 
his faithful performance. Not being a saint, I cannot tell you much about 
this new talent or faculty, but I know from much reading, that it really 
does give great and exceeding and ever increasing joy to its possessors. 
One and all of them describe their happiness in terms of exuberant 
enthusiasm. Indeed, in this rather bored and satiated world, the only 
really consistent and extravagant claims to happiness are made by the 
saints. Did anyone ever hear of an unhappy saint? I have heard of 
saints who had heavy burdens and many troubles, who had patiently 
to endure hardships and crosses, for we must remember that the Master 
also has heavy burdens, suffers bitter disappointments, must wait 
patiently the slow fruition of long maturing plans ; and the saints express 
and embody His efforts and His feelings, as well as His powers and 



WHY SHOULD I WANT TO BE A SAINT? 281 

capacities and other qualities. But in spite of this we have His own 
testimony that the spiritual life contains within itself the very essence 
of perpetual joy. A saint enjoys bliss in so far as he is a saint as 
men breathe air. Neither can help it because it is the inevitable condition 
of the life each lives. 

Therefore, in imagining how a saint feels, we can postulate, on their 
own testimony, that they tap a well of happiness which is beyond our 
reach; an inexhaustible reservoir of satisfaction which is not subject to 
the law of satiety, that, sooner or later, poisons all material joys. But 
that is not all. I think in many ways the saint's greatest possession is 
an increase of power; not merely the power of enjoyment, which becomes 
much finer and keener, but other powers, like the power to move and 
influence men, whether by tongue or pen or whatsoever medium ; or the 
power of intellectual achievement; or the long list of simpler powers 
which we all use every day in our daily tasks, and upon which their 
perfect doing so much depends. The saint has more of all these, than 
common men. He has more patience, more tact, more endurance, more 
perseverance, more thoroughness, more sympathy, more understanding 
of others. Indeed, this last phase opens up a whole wide reach of 
endowments which the saint possesses, and which may be summed up 
in the words, he understands human nature better than other men. In 
the last analysis there are few more valuable gifts, and it is the possession 
of this faculty which explains so much of the mysterious wisdom and 
astonishing influence of the saints. Why did the illiterate and youthful 
daughter of a humble craftsman sway popes and move kings and rulers 
to her will, as did St. Catherine of Siena? And why could she, with 
equal success, persuade a sinner to repentence, or console a dying man? 
Humble, obscure, uneducated, inexperienced why was she adequate to 
every one of the very varied demands made upon her during her short 
but crowded life? I think the answer is quite simple. Because of her 
saintliness she understood human nature. This does not enable one to 
accomplish the impossible, but it does enable one often to accomplish 
the seemingly impossible. She did, and so did very many of the other 
saints, in much the same way. 

The saints can do things better than other men. It does not seem 
to matter very much what they are called upon to do, or whether they 
have had any previous experience with it or not. What previous experi- 
ence could a peasant girl of eighteen have had of the handling of artillery, 
of the fighting of battles, of the besieging of cities? Brother Lawrence 
was not trained to be a cook, or St. Catherine of Siena a diplomat, or 
St. Catherine of Genoa a sick nurse, nor St. Vincent de Paul a founder 
and organizer of hospitals and other institutions, nor did the great teachers 
and preachers and farmers among the saints follow a vocation for which 
they were trained. They did these things superlatively well, in spite of 
their obvious limitations, because they understood human nature includ- 



282 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

ing their own ; because they possessed in abundant measure those qualities 
of character which are required by saint or layman in order to do anything 
well; because, through their closeness to the Master, they tapped an 
infinite reservoir of knowledge and power. 

I have tried to show some of the reasons why we should want to be 
saints, but it has been done by inference rather than by direct statement. 
Before closing I think we should try to sum up the results of our investi- 
gation. We should try to be saints because, first, it is our inevitable 
destiny. Sooner or later, we must, and the sooner we do it the easier it 
will be. Second, it is the surest and quickest way to happiness. Third, 
we shall never cease, save for occasional moments, to be wretched, 
unhappy, unquiet, ill-at-ease, until we do. We shall be subject to all the 
vicissitudes of life with their frequent corollaries of pain and disappoint- 
ment, at the best ; and at the worst, we actually risk our eternal salvation, 
for salvation is not inevitable for any given individual. It is for the race, 
as that is the end towards which evolution tends, but individuals can 
and do separate themselves from the stream, and perish miserably. There- 
fore we should try to be saints so as to be happy and to be saved ; though 
I confess that these motives will soon be replaced with others which are 
not quite so obviously for self. C. A. G. 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 



THE following translation from the letter of a French sergeant, 
published in L'Ame Franqaise et L'Ame Allemande, provides 
the best possible introduction to a consideration of the recent 
armistice. 

"We arrived at the station. 

"The Captain showed me a group of a dozen German prisoners who 
were guarded by Military Police and Transport drivers. 

" 'Here,' he said, 'are those whom you are to conduct to P . 

The big fellow standing over there in the corner alone, is a Prussian 
Lieutenant; you should look after him with particular care as his case 
is not clear ; he is accused of having fired on some of our wounded offi- 
cers. Is it true? The court martial will decide that, as soon as all the 
facts have been ascertained. In any case, the prisoner knows of what 
he is accused, and you may be sure that, guilty or innocent, he will do 
his utmost to escape. He has already tried to do so. For greater secur- 
ity, you will remain with him continually, in the compartment in which 
he will be placed. Two of our men will remain at each door, and you 
must sit facing him. As to the other prisoners, you will leave them in 
the wagon under the guard of the rest of your escort. Once more, keep 
a sharp lookout.' 

"The Captain left, and I proceeded to look the prisoners over. 
Nearly all of them were big and solid yokels, well put together, of the 
expected square-headed type. On the other hand, several of them, who 
were regular degenerates, would certainly have been rejected by our own 
examining boards. It was not the first time, however, that I had seen 
among German prisoners those who would have provided first class illus- 
trations for a pamphlet on prohibition. It looks as if the 'inexhaustible 
reserve' of men of the German Empire is beginning to be used up. 

"The Prussian Lieutenant continued to hold himself erect and apart 
from the others. I approached him. 

" 'Do you speak French ?' 

"A glance to one side, a contemptuous grimace: this was the only 
response that he made to my question. 

"'Does he speak French?' a Military Policeman said to me, 'I 
should say he does. But you wont get a word out of him. He affects 
to look down upon us from the heights of his grandeur, as if he could 
not despise us enough. We are too polite, too good to these prisoners, 
and they abuse our generosity.' 

"A group of our officers approached. The Military Police and the 
Transport drivers were ordered to clear the place of spectators. The 
officers were going to question the Prussian Lieutenant. 



284 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

"'Your name?' 

"This question, uttered in French and then in German, might have 
been addressed to a deaf mute. 

" 'You don't wish to answer ?' continued the Commandant who had 
first spoken. 'You know of what you are accused and what the conse- 
quences may be for you.' 

" 'I have only one thing to say,' the prisoner then declared, 'this : I 
am being allowed to die of hunger.' 

" 'Excuse me,' retorted the Commandant, 'you have been offered a loaf 
of bread and a tin of meat.' 

" 'As if that were food fit for a German officer !' 

"I looked at the Commandant; his eyes had begun to blaze and his 
cheeks had turned slightly paler. ... I noticed with satisfaction that 
he might explode at any moment. 

" 'I demand,' continued the prisoner, 'to be taken to the restaurant 
in the station, and to be served with an ample breakfast and with some 
old Bordeaux, because I have had nothing to eat since yesterday, and I 
must renew my strength. I demand, also, that tobacco be obtained for 
my pipe, but not the tobacco of the rank and file. I must have the finer 
kind. ... If you do not accede to these demands, it may be made 
hot for you before long. . . .' 

"'Swine!' 

"It was the first word that succeeded in escaping from the lips of 
the Commandant, who was choking with wrath. The rest of us breathed 
a sigh of relief. It had really become necessary to say something in 
order to calm our fury ! 

" 'A good meal, old Bordeaux, fine tobacco !' continued the Com- 
mandant. 'For you who finish off the wounded ! For you who burn 
down houses with their occupants ! For you who compel prisoners to 
dig your trenches and to protect you with their bodies when you advance ! 
Ah ! It may be made hot for me ! I don't know what it is that keeps 
me from having you shot on the spot for your threat !' 

"It was now the turn of the Prussian Lieutenant to turn pale. His 
tall figure crumbled ; a gleam of terror came into his eyes. 

" 'Commandant,' ... he stammered. 

"But the Commandant stopped the excuses of the prisoner with a 
swift gesture. He stared at him for a few moments without saying a 
word, then, turning toward us he said : 

" 'Just look (Regardes moi) at his pitiable, humiliating, servile atti- 
tude. There you have what they all are: arrogant, vain braggarts, so 
long as they feel themselves safe. But as soon as they feel themselves 
in the presence of their master, they cringe and become that which all of 
them are at bottom lackeys !' 

"Under this cutting insult, the prisoner remained unaffected. He 
continued to stand with his body bowed, his head inclined, his expression 
flattened out like a school boy who is being reprimanded. 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 285 

"The Commandant shrugged his shoulders with disgust and turned 
and marched off. The Prussian Lieutenant instantly drew himself up, 
saluted and maintained the attitude of a soldier until the Commandant 
was a good twenty paces off. He continued to salute as the other officers 
withdrew." 



In the last "Screen of Time," published before the signing of the 
armistice, it was stated that "when a bully cannot get his own way by 
force, he always weeps, first tears of rage, and then tears of self-pity. 
He expects the very people he has outraged to weep in pity for him. If 
they do not, he cries aloud to Heaven against their heartlessness." It 
was foretold that Germany would weep, and would weep "copiously, 
loudly, appealingly." Since then, Germany has deluged the world with 
tears with tears of rage and with tears of self-pity, but also with croco- 
dile tears, meant for the deception of fools. 

Germany is not merely trying to escape the consequences of her sins. 
She is trying to obtain by fraud that which she failed to obtain by force. 
She is trying also to conserve her strength for another spring at the 
throat of France. And Germany may succeed. When the blind under- 
take to lead the blind, it is not difficult to beguile them into a ditch. 
When those who kept America in a state of neutrality, still lead, it is 
scarcely to be expected that the outcome can be satisfactory. A leopard 
cannot change his spots, or, as was said by another Wise Man, ages ago : 

"A dog washed in the seven seas 
Is still a pasture-ground for fleas." 

From all of which it may have been inferred already that the signing 
of the armistice with Germany did not cause rejoicing among the con- 
tributors to the "Screen." We never believed in conversations with the 
devil, or in exchanging notes, directly or indirectly, with any of the devil's 
brood. We do not believe in making terms, any terms, with devils. 
Unconditional surrender is and forever will be the demand of the White 
Lodge and of its followers. The least concession is equivalent to defeat. 

The spokesmen of the German people are telling them that their 
army has not been defeated (New York Times, December 12th). Ger- 
man troops returning to Berlin are received "like conquerors." "Berlin 
was once more a military town, full of enthusiasm for the soldiers and 
their deeds." Premier Ebert makes a speech and assures the soldiers: 
"Your deeds and sacrifices are unexampled. No enemy overcame you. 
. . . You protected the homeland from invasion. . . . With deep- 
est emotion the homeland thanks you. You can return with heads erect" 
(New York Times, December 13th). 

German vanity and arrogance provide ready ears for the claim that 
"Thus far and no farther" gives the substance of the terms of armistice. 
There is barely a step from that to the claim that the Allies were ex- 



286 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

hausted and were compelled to accept such terms as Germany was willing 
to concede. 

That she is the injured party, horribly ill-treated, but dignified in her 
suffering and brave in the face of injustice, is the way that Germany 
talks ; and although this in most cases is a pose, her self-hypnotism leads 
her at times to believe she is telling the truth. "Now who has been 
cheated right and left but Germany ?" asks Dr. Suedekum, the new Prus- 
sian Minister of Finance, with every appearance of virtuous indignation 
(New York Times, December 4th). 

Not one word or sign of repentance has come out of the entire 
nation. As a people, they remain shameless. Without honor and with- 
out humanity, all they regret is that some of their loot may have to be 
disgorged. They will hide what they can of that. They are unconvinced 
and unconverted. They are as cruel as they were, as unscrupulous as 
they were, as treacherous, as morally corrupt, as obscene. They are the 
spawn of hell and we have signed an armistice with them. 

Prisoners turned loose to shift for themselves, without food or cloth- 
ing, dying from exhaustion as they stagger toward freedom prisoners 
who have been starved and beaten, persecuted and tortured, their man- 
hood outraged and their bodies wrecked. Not a word of regret ; not the 
first glimmer of consciousness that there is any need for regret. "Fire 
at men in life-boats?" said some U-boat commander when surrendering. 
"Why of course ; they might have lived to fight us !" 

Ebert, Scheidemann, Erzberger, Solf and the rest, are just as respon- 
sible for Germany's crimes as the Kaiser. There is only one more infamy 
which it is left to them to perpetrate, and that is to surrender him, the 
leader of the gang, in the hope that the Allies will accept him as a scape- 
goat. And this they will probably do. 

Americans on the spot are already beginning to realize that some- 
thing is wrong. A correspondent of the Associated Press with the 
American army of occupation, in a despatch from Coblenz (New York 
Times, December 14th), speaks of "an unmistakable air of independence 
on the part of the people, reflecting their conviction that the Americans 
are going to deal with them much more delicately than have the French 
or British with the people north and south of the city. . . . The 
population adopted an attitude to-day that found expression in jostling 
American soldiers on the streets and in sneers and laughs, which were 
only vaguely concealed." . 

And the "something wrong" is the armistice itself the misbegotten 
offspring of the conversations which preceded it. 

This will not be a popular view. But the THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 
never aspired to be popular. It could not do that and still retain as its 
motto, "There is no Religion higher than Truth." Furthermore, we quite 
sincerely prefer truth to popularity. 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 287 

The German plea for an armistice ought to have been rejected in- 
stantly. Germany should have been informed that the Allied and Ameri- 
can armies were going to occupy the entire country, or as much of it as 
might be desired, and that this would be done either in spite of German 
resistance, in which case towns might suffer, or with German consent, 
in which case, as evidence of good faith, the German armies would have 
to lay down all arms and every unit of the German fleet surrender. 

As soon as Berlin, Dresden, Munich, Hamburg, Leipzig, had been 
occupied, compensation in kind should have been exacted for all damage 
done to France and Belgium, including machinery, works of art, raw 
materials, books and manuscripts. For instance, the contents of all the 
art galleries and museums in Berlin should have been transferred to 
Rheims as partial compensation for the destruction of her cathedral. 
(There is enough religious atmosphere in Rheims to neutralize, in time, 
the poisonous aura which even the Virgin and Child of Luini, or the 
Virgin of Fra Lippi, must have collected in Berlin). Thereafter, at Ger- 
many's expense, the Allies and the United States between them should 
have controlled every department of German industry and commerce, 
both domestic and foreign, for the sole purpose of extracting payment in 
full for the damage Germany has done. This might have taken ten years, 
or twenty, because the total would amount to many billions of dollars. 
But, toward the end of the period, the German people would have begun 
to regret, and to regret sincerely, that they had treated Belgium and 
France, and ships at sea, as they did. 

The truth about the war was blurred by people who do not know 
what truth means and whose thinking is all done in terms of political 
expediency instead of on a basis of principle. France and England were 
both beginning to understand that there was only one real issue namely : 
Were the forces of evil to dominate the world, or the forces of righteous- 
ness? when, in the opinion of official Washington, it became expedient 
to say a great deal about "democracy." Now "democracy" too often 
means government by the worst instead of by the best. But apart from 
that, it would at any time have been absurd to suppose that the German 
people were fighting against "democracy." They were fighting for loot. 
If France had been an Empire, they would have attacked her just as read- 
ily, unless she had been stronger, which alone would have made them 
pause. 

It would have required unusual insight and courage for either Eng- 
land or France, who were hard pressed and knew it, to have repudiated 
the pronunciamentos which Washington poured forth, when, to have done 
so, might have kept America permanently out of the war. Furthermore, 
neither England nor France had any statesman whose understanding was 
sufficiently religious, and whose grasp of principle was sufficiently clear, 
to make such protests possible. Clemenceau is heroic, but he has only 
common-sense and indomitable courage to guide him ; and common-sense, 



288 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

unless illumined "from above" by prayer in which case it may approxi- 
mate the wisdom of God (Theosophy) cannot possibly be equal to the 
demands of a great world-crisis. Lacking faith in divine intervention, 
Clemenceau put his trust in princes and that the prince, in this case, 
happened to be the United States of America, is merely incidental. In 
private, when first hearing of the famous "fourteen points," Clemenceau's 
comment is reported to have been: "Quatorse points! Mais cela c'est 
un peu fort le bon Dieu n'en avail que dix." But in public, he did his 
best to meet the situation half way. 

The result was that America, having been kicked so hard and so 
often by Germany that "I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier" had become 
unpopular, at long last and with many apologies (for her decision and 
not for her delay), made up her mind officially that after all she was not 
"too proud to fight," and that the time had arrived "to make the world 
safe for democracy." 

Throughout this period, and because of what was being said and left 
undone by their official representatives, many Americans were suffering, 
literally, the tortures of the damned. They still are. That is what we 
are talking about ! 

When French soldiers were asked what they were fighting for, they 
answered To defend France, to kill devils, and to save our homes. 

When British soldiers were asked what they were fighting for, they 
answered To defend England and to put Germany in her place. 

The French soldiers had the clearer understanding. But the politi- 
cians of both France and England who, if left alone, would in time have 
been educated by their soldiers when called upon to answer the same 
question used phrases and tried to persuade themselves that American 
definitions were "near enough." Anxious to play fair with America, they 
adopted shibboleths in which they only half believed. They compromised 
with themselves. They permitted themselves to be actuated by a sense of 
expediency. 

The result was that when Germany not only asked for peace but 
wailed for it, her pleas were considered in the light of expediency and not 
on a basis of principle. "Unconditional surrender" ought to have been 
the only answer. Instead of that, it was deemed expedient to make hay 
while the sun was shining. That the harvest was not ripe; that Ger- 
many's wail for peace was simply the reverberation, in another key, of 
Germany's yells for war ; that the heart of Germany was still as full of 
iniquity as it was in 1914 these were facts which the "democratization" 
of Germany threw completely into the shade. And an armistice did 
promise enormous gains. Germany did offer a stupendous bribe. 

A bribe, none the less, is a bribe. To accept any kind of a bribe, for 
the sake of peace, is to compromise with evil. The Allies have compro- 
mised with evil. And America, in our opinion, is very largely to blame. 



289 

We do not believe that any one who was neutral prior to April, 
1917, when America entered the war, can have sound views today unless 
he has seen and confessed how wrong he was then: and the only man in 
public life who has done this to our knowledge is the Vice-President, 
whom we honor for that reason. Such men as the present Chairman of 
the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, who was author of the bill to 
prohibit the export of arms and ammunition to the Allies, still boast that 
they stood for "a strict, peaceful and impartial neutrality," and that they 
would have opposed American participation to the end, if Germany had 
not begun "a systematic attack on our commerce." 

How can such people be expected to understand anything? The 
professional Pacifists and Internationalists and Socialists, in too many 
cases do understand, and are playing deliberately into the hands of Ger- 
many, for no other reason than their common kinship with the devil. 
The black forces everywhere are united, for all alike work for the break- 
ing down of decency and order, though some persuade themselves that 
the sharing in common of wives and kitchens, with the obliteration of 
homes and nations, would make the world a happier place to live in. 

No real student of Theosophy can have been neutral at any time, or 
can now be caught in the snares of Internationalism. Further, no real 
student of Theosophy can fail to realize that, in addition to the claims of 
Justice, which must be vindicated, the salvation of Germany herself de- 
pends upon the severity with which she is punished and the ability of 
the rest of the world to hold and to treat her as the criminal she is. 

Students of Theosophy believe that the universe, in every depart- 
ment, being a manifestation of the one divine life, is governed by laws 
inherent in the universe itself. They believe this, chiefly because their 
own experience proves it true. They have found, for instance, that 
whatsoever a man sows, he reaps, and that whatever he reaps, he has at 
some time sown. Their study of world religions has taught them that 
this doctrine is older than history and has been verified by all mankind. 
In India it was called by some the Law of Karma, a Sanscrit word mean- 
ing action, with the connotation that action and reaction are equal and 
opposite. So they have come to use that term as being briefly expressive 
of their concept, which includes the idea of good or bad "fruits of action" 
from the past. Both Buddhists and Roman Catholics use the word 
"merit" as a student of Theosophy would use the term "good Karma," 
though the Roman Catholic would give a much narrower range to his 
word. 

Applying, then, our understanding of Karma to the offences of Ger- 
many, we find that, as against their hideous total, there is only one "fruit 
of action," which might be described as good, accruing to her. This is 
a benefit she unwittingly conferred on other nations the benefit to them 
of being made to see evil for what it is. The French officer's statement 

19 



290 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

to Kipling, more than once quoted in the "Screen," to the effect that we 
had forgotten what evil is until Germany had forced us once more to 
believe in it and to hate it, was a clear recognition of a debt. Germany's 
unspeakable crimes aroused in France and then in England and finally 
in America, a deep and even passionate hatred of such wickedness, with 
a corresponding love of the virtues honor and truth and self-efface- 
ment which are the opposites of what Germany revealed. 

To what extent does this debt to Germany off-set her "bad Karma," 
consisting of the moral, mental and physical injuries which she has in- 
flicted on others ? That she conferred the benefit unintentionally and in 
a certain sense against her own will, naturally leaves little to her credit. 
Something, none the less, is left, and this something can be used by the 
divine powers on her behalf, just to the extent that the rest of the world 
continues to react from her evil, meeting her people and her products, 
when that is unavoidable, with the contempt and loathing they deserve, 
and insisting that she shall be punished unremittingly and implacably until 
profound repentance shall have purged her sin away. To adopt any 
other attitude is to nullify the only "merit" she possesses and to deprive 
her of her one means of salvation the only leverage the divine powers 
can use to raise her from the depths to which she has sunk. Were any 
one to treat Germany or her people as if they were civilized and clean, 
when they are neither, he would dishonor himself, his God and his nation, 
and would also be guilty of the most "unbrotherly" act which the per- 
verseness of man could devise. 

Failure to act on principle, necessarily brings trouble in its train. 
Every imaginable effort is being made to disrupt the ranks of the Allies. 
Anti-British propaganda is being conducted openly in America. New 
York and other newspapers are full of accusations that England (and 
France is not excepted) is trying to grab this or that advantage from 
Germany's defeat. All the people who used to be aggressively neutral 
are now darkly suspicious, having discovered that at present that attitude 
is safe, though, prior to the armistice, it was known to be disloyal. At 
no stage of the war has the Black Lodge been more active or, in some 
respects, more successful. The so-called freedom of the seas and the 
much-heralded League of Nations are used as ferments to raise trouble. 
No one knows what they mean, and not many people care ; but fancy, in 
all these psychic commotions, has far more influence than fact. Stu- 
dents of Theosophy have an immense responsibility, because they have 
studied psychism, and have it in their power, by clear thinking and honest, 
direct speech, to dissipate much of the bewilderment which otherwise 
might lead this country into unconscious and unintentional betrayal. 

To see existing things, not as they are, but as our fancy makes them, 
is psychic ; to see them, not as they are, but as they would have to be to 
fit our theories, is psychic. To see a League of Nations, under federated 
control, as an ideal, and then to jump to the conclusion that the world is 



ON THE SCREEN OF TIME 291 

ripe for it, when it cannot be ripe for it until Adepts are recognized as 
Kings and an Avatar as world-ruler, is psychic to the point of danger. 

There is nothing more divine in life than a fact. No one can see a 
fact who sees his own ego first and his environment through that lens. 
To pretend that some one is good when he is bad, or wise when he is silly, 
is an insult to Truth, and therefore an insult to God. 

"Two men looked out through their prison bars; 
The one saw mud, and the other stars." 

Both were wrong. A wise man would have looked up and down and 
also straight ahead into the windows opposite. The man who sees only 
stars is falsely called an idealist. The man who sees only mud is rightly 
called a pessimist and a bore. Most men look up or down as the state 
of their livers directs. The egotist is psychic because he is an egotist. 
He indulges his egotism, in ways bad or merely foolish, and thus makes 
himself incapable of seeing a fact, while his particular distortion of it is 
as changing as the centre of his own self-reference. 

There is this comfort, however, not for the psychic's friends, if he 
have any, but for those who watch his flights with trepidation, and who 
perhaps care deeply for some cause he seems to jeopardize: as his one 
sincere conviction is that he himself is wise; as he is tenacious only at 
that point, he is likely to drift in time to where public applause will 
greet him, hailing himself with beatific self-complacency as the creator 
of conscience, or of insight, in whatever environment he may function. 
Just as the Kaiser reflected the will of his people and did not lead them, 
so other psychics, of lesser degree, rarely do worse, or make more havoc, 
than the conscience of those who look on permits. 

None of which may seem at first sight to have much to do with the 
armistice, or with the situation we now confront. But it has everything 
to do with them, and with the future too. T. 



ELEMENTARY ARTICLE 



RESOLUTIONS 

XT is futile to discover the truth about ourselves through self-examina- 
tion unless we do something about it, and that brings us to the subject 
of Resolutions. 

The spiritual books tell us that every self-examination should be 
followed by a resolution ; indeed, they go further and say every meditation 
or prayer, or spiritual exercise of any kind should be followed by a reso- 
lution, or, otherwise, the effort we make will have no result. It is as if 
we raised a bucket of water from the well of truth and then allowed it 
to fall back instead of using it to refresh the garden of our natures. It is 
as if we prepared some nourishing food, and then went our way without 
eating it. 

Etymologically the word resolution is derived from the same root as 
resolute, which means bold, determined, firm and constant of purpose. 
The meanings given the word by current usage are thus closely akin to its 
etymology. In religion, however, it has a somewhat more extended con- 
notation. A resolution in the religious sense, implicates the soul, the 
moral nature. We can make a decision, and change it at will without 
moral delinquency, for a decision is merely mental; but if we make a 
resolution, we cannot break it without shame, without stigma or reproach, 
none the less real because often known only to ourselves. A resolution, 
in other words, involves not only a movement of the mind and will, like 
a decision, but also involves the moral nature, the soul. 

We may decide to take a walk, and, because it comes on to rain, we 
may change our minds and stay at home. It was probably a sensible 
thing to do and it would never occur to any one to blame us for not carry- 
ing out our original intention. But if, for some reason or other, we make 
a resolution to take a walk, it would mean that some duty, some moral 
obligation, is involved, and in that event, rain or shine, we should take the 
walk. It is a pledge we make, to ourselves it is true, but none the less 
a pledge for that reason ; and to break a pledge is shameful. 

It is a commonplace that everything that pertains to the inner life 
may be looked at from two points of view ; we may look at it from the 
standpoint of the ordinary human consciousness, in which case we talk 
about the Soul as if it were outside of and apart from ourselves; or, we 
may look at it from the standpoint of the Soul, in which case, the ordinary 



RESOLUTIONS 293 

human ccr^iousness is only one, though an important, manifestation of 
the Soul's activity ; a manifestation which is often unsatisfactory and 
incomplete, if not actually rebellious and perverted. 

A decision is a matter that originates in the lower self. Of course, 
it concerns the Soul, for every activity of any part of the nature concerns 
the Soul, but the Soul is not directly implicated. A resolution, on the 
other hand, originates in the Soul, even though it is the mind which 
formulates it into terms of ordinary consciousness. Put in other terms, 
we might say that a resolution is a conclusion reached by the Soul, while 
a decision is a conclusion reached by the mind. 

If we meditate or pray for help and guidance, we get it ; of that there 
is no doubt whatever. But we often get it in a manner that requires 
translation from what we may call Soul consciousness, into terms of 
ordinary mind consciousness. The best possible method to translate this 
help from the Soul plane, where it is given us, onto the mental plane 
where we can understand it and use it, is to make a resolution while under 
the influence of the meditation or prayer. At that moment, the mind is 
more or less under the control of the Soul and is, therefore, likely to come 
to a wise decision, a decision that is a resolution because it owes its life 
and origin to the Soul. As we do this more and more often, and as we 
carry out faithfully the resolutions so made, we learn gradually to trans- 
late the activities of the Soul more and more accurately and completely 
into terms of ordinary consciousness; which is merely another way of 
saying that our ordinary consciousness gets to be more and more like our 
Soul's consciousness, until finally, the two become one actually and liter- 
ally one. At first this oneness is only reached in occasional moments 
when in deep meditation, but the frequency and duration of such times 
increase with practice, until, as was said, the two consciousnesses become 
one ; and as the consciousness of our Soul is already at one with the con- 
sciousness of our Master, the completion of the process really means 
at-one-ment with the Master Union, the supreme goal of the disciple. 

Naturally, this is a long way off. At first all we can hope to do is to 
make a reasonably accurate translation of the wishes and desires of our 
Soul into terms of our ordinary understanding. Our every-day con- 
sciousness is so hide-bound, so "cribbed, cabined and confined," by preju- 
dice and preconception, by heredity, by blindness and impairment caused 
by sin, that it is a marvel that it ever succeeds in getting any of the Soul's 
ideas right. In fact, at first, it rarely does ; it only gets them part right. 
We are almost certain to decorate the Soul's original and simple wish with 
all sorts of theories and ideas of the mind. Some of these do not matter 
very much, but some are foolish and harmful, while others are poisonous 
and deadly. We must remember that there are many forces in the lower 
nature which do not wish the Soul to enter in and take charge. These 
forces will deliberately try to pervert the understanding, or to break the 
resolution. All our appetites and desires, our love of comfort, all our 
self-will, our pride, our vanity, our so-called independence, will struggle 



294 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

to the end against a vital resolution; for it is a death struggle in ^c last 
analysis. The Soul and the contents of the ordinary lower-self cannot 
live in union ; one must dominate and expel the other. Most people have 
expelled their Souls, and, by reason thereof, are exiles from Eternity. 
But these are only exiles. Like the Prodigal Son they can be forgiven 
and return to their true home. Indeed, they must, sooner or later, unless 
they wish to perish altogether. This, of course, is written from the stand- 
point of the lower consciousness, which, after all, is where we live and 
function most of the time. But it is not our true consciousness, and we 
all have repeated experiences of that true consciousness during our 
"higher moments," during times of aspiration and repentance, when we 
feel and know the Soul within us; when we recognize our real home. 
The two worlds are not so far apart as we are sometimes prone to 
imagine. But let us return to the subject of resolutions, and see how it 
works out in practice, and in the light of what we have said above. 

Roughly speaking, people are divided into two classes : those who find 
it difficult to make resolutions, but keep them when made, and those who 
make resolutions easily, but find it difficult to keep them. It would seem 
as" if the first class had to overcome a very strong self-will, but once the 
mind is made up, as the expression has it, they are pretty faithful per- 
formers. The second class seem to have less self-will to overcome, for 
they make resolutions easily, but they lack the perseverance, the determi- 
nation needed to carry the resolution into effect. The first class are full 
of evil. The second class are weak. We all have both these faults, but 
one or the other usually predominates. 

Sometimes I have thought that knowledge was a factor in the situa- 
tion. Those who realize how difficult it is to keep a resolution are reluc- 
tant to make one, while the ignorant and inexperienced unhesitatingly 
announce their intention to do impossible things. There must be a happy 
mean between the person who makes too few resolutions to get anywhere 
along the path of self-improvement, and one who makes a great many 
but fails to keep them. We certainly should not stop making resolutions 
for fear that we may not keep them. On the other hand it is weakening 
to one's will to be continually making resolutions which we do not keep. 
We must not let our pride prevent our making efforts for fear we may 
fail, nor must we allow our available stock of will to be frittered away 
over a multiplicity of resolutions we do not keep. 

The happy mean would appear to be something like this. Make a 
resolution you know to be possible and concentrate your effort on that. 
When, through continued performance, it has become easy, make another. 
If the two together are more than you can accomplish, after conscientious 
effort, drop the second and return to the perfect performance of the first 
until it has become a part of yourself a habit ; then try the second again. 
When successful in carrying both easily, try a third. Do not be discour- 
aged by failures. Almost every one fails when he first undertakes any 
new practice. There must be repeated failure and repeated beginning 



RESOLUTIONS 295 

over again in most categories of resolutions. It is a very rare soul that 
succeeds from the very outset. 

As a race, we are not careful enough about our pledges, our resolu- 
tions. We make them too lightly, and break them far too often ; and we 
suffer the consequence which is a weakening of the will. The only way 
I know to strengthen the will, is to keep our resolutions, regardless of the 
cost the cost to ourselves be it noted, not regardless of the cost to others. 
And that leads naturally to the consideration of when we are justified in 
breaking a resolution. It is simple enough in theory, but not always easy 
in practice, for various forms of self-will and casuistical reasoning enter 
into the problem and are apt to lead us astray. In theory we must not 
sacrifice the comfort, happiness, peace, feelings or convenience of others 
in order to follow our own designs. When you make a resolution you 
make a bargain with yourself ; no one else is involved. If, through chance 
and circumstance, some one else becomes involved, the bargain lapses, for 
it was made in ignorance of the facts. I may make a perfectly proper 
resolution to go for a walk ; but if a member of my family becomes ill, 
there is no shame in staying at home to tend the ill one, although in so 
doing I break my resolution. As a matter of fact, I did not break the 
resolution ; Providence did it, and thereby absolved me from moral de- 
linquency. I cannot think readily of any positive resolution that cannot 
properly be broken in certain circumstances. I mean by this a resolution 
to do something. We also make resolutions not to do things. In this 
latter case, Providence does not intervene and make them right. For 
instance, if we resolve to stop some kind of sin, no easily conceivable 
circumstances can arise to justify our again sinning. 

The point is that while we must keep our resolutions, so long as they 
concern ourselves only, keep them if necessary, though we die for them, 
we must not make a fetish of them, and must be quite willing to change, if 
our duty to others becomes involved. There is the usual mean between 
two extremes, here, as elsewhere in discipleship. It is a hair line, often, 
verily. 

Resolutions may be general or specific. All the religious books warn 
us against making our resolutions too general. We may have a very 
genuine and sincere desire to be good, but it is of little use to resolve 
merely to be good. We must determine to be good in some definite and 
specific way. The trouble is that the impulse to be good is usually a vague 
and general feeling. We pray, or repent, or are inspired by a sermon, 
or an example, and there is engendered in us a desire to be good. Per- 
haps it is the urge of our own souls ; or perhaps it is a manifestation of 
the Master's grace. Be the cause what it may, the result is nearly always 
a feeling, an impulse, a desire to be better. If we stop there, we let the 
water spill back into the well without using it. The feeling soon evapo- 
rates, and nothing has been accomplished, no forward step taken. But 
if, on the contrary, we harness the motive power in our desire to some 
definite resolution, we make it work. And when the power dies down, 



296 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

as it will in time, we can replenish it at will, and we should replenish it 
by deliberately subjecting ourselves to the influences which, we know from 
experience, will set it going again. If it is prayer, then we must pray. 
If it is inspiring example, then we must seek the comradeship that is in- 
spiring. If it is devotional reading, then we must faithfully and devoutly 
read our books. If it is grace, then we must see to it that we keep in the 
state of purity, that makes us fit channels for the Master's force. 

Resolutions are of different planes. They may be about physical 
things, like eating or getting up early and regularly, or about our attitudes 
and postures and tricks of manner. Or, they may belong to the moral 
plane. We can make resolutions about being patient, or sympathetic, or 
about not being irritable, or curious, or jealous, or bearing resentment, or 
being cross. Or, they may be mental things, and have to do with our 
reading or studying, or our speech, or our thoughts, or our imagination 
and the use or misuse we make of it. Or, finally, our resolutions may 
relate to the inner life and have to do with our prayers, our medita- 
tions, our religious exercises, or, less tangible, our will, our desires, our 
affections. 

Any one of these categories is a perfectly legitimate field for our 
resolutions, but we must beware of trying too many things at once. A 
resolution of each kind there should always be, for we must always be 
making an effort on each plane, or we run the risk of a lop-sided develop- 
ment. Fortunately we are so constituted that we can carry on success- 
fully several simultaneous efforts if they are on different planes, when 
we might not have the determination and the will necessary to carry out 
two efforts on the same plane. 

The time element must not be forgotten. In some cases it is easier 
to keep a resolution if it is made for a definite time, and not forever. In 
other cases, it should be made forever, or the chances are you will not 
keep it at all. To take a crude illustration : if you have a drug habit and 
decide to stop it, you should resolve to stop forever. Indeed, whenever 
you give up a bad habit, safety and success lie in making the resolution 
finally and forever. But if you decide on a practice for the sake of dis- 
cipline, which is neither good nor bad in itself, you will be more likely 
to carry through your resolve if you set a definite time during which you 
will do the thing. It is easy to give up candy during Lent, but very, very 
few would keep a resolution to eschew it forever. C. A. G. 




OCCULT NOVELS. Novelists are beginning to realize the unlimited possibilities of 
reincarnation as a basis for the making of stories ; furthermore, the "occult," or 
hidden side of things is receiving more and more attention from popular writers. 
We seldom pick up a magazine that does not have at least one story that comes 
within the special purview of the third object of The Theosophical Society, while 
of the writing of occult novels there is beginning to be no end. It would seem to 
be the duty of the QUARTERLY to mention these from time to time, although that 
usually results in a state of exasperation from which it takes some time to recover. 

Since Bulwer Lytton we have had very little on occult themes which is in any 
way worthy of so great a subject. F. Marion Crawford's Mr. Isaacs almost belongs 
to theosophical literature, but his other essays into this type of literature were 
not so successful. Du Maurier was, at least, interesting. Peter Ibbetson is a 
charming tale that comes much closer to being possible than most efforts to describe 
the workings of the astral plane. He spoiled a good record by writing The Mar- 
tian, which is thin and unconvincing. Perhaps the best occult story since Bulwer 
Lytton is Kipling's Brushwood Boy, which has human interest, literary excellence, 
and so far as the occult element is concerned, is quite possible, if not very probable. 
The underlying idea is similar to that of Peter Ibbetson. Even Mr. Sinnett, with 
all his advantages, was lamentably inadequate in his two efforts, Karma, and United, 
which are as impossible, artistically, as they are travesties of the occult. Marie 
Corelli has all the faults of Marie Corelli, and that is saying enough. W. L. Com- 
fort, a new-comer in the field, several of whose books have been reviewed in the 
QUARTERLY, has as special characteristics a perfervid imagination fed on ignorance, 
and an almost total inability to write : and so it goes. The QUARTERLY would wel- 
come a really good occult novel, for the world needs to have its attention turned 
away from the purely material interests of life, and even if we cannot wholly com- 
mend the novel as a means of propaganda, it reaches individuals who would not 
be reached in any other way. 

One recent book, The Promise of the Air, by Algernon Blackwood, has been 
extensively advertised and favorably reviewed. People are talking about it. I do 
not know why. It is not interesting, and lacks substance. The theme is fantastic 
and leads nowhere. A lower middle class man, who is fond of birds, develops a 
type of irresponsibility and inconsequence which he and the author claim to be like 
the irresponsibility and inconsequence of birds. It is gay, almost joyous, at times, 
although through most of the book the sordid details of commonplace lower middle 
class keep him submerged. He marries, and one of his children, a girl, seems to 
inherit his lack of touch with the practical affairs of life. She is vibrant with life, 
and dances away until the end of the book. The book, by the way, ends, but the 
story does not. Nothing happens. The most exciting incident, and the climax 
of the story, is the move of the family to the country. You put the book down 
and wonder why it was written. It leads nowhere, suggests nothing, presents no 
ideal. 



298 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Mr. Blackwood is more fortunate, and so are we, in another story, a play about 
reincarnation, called Karma, and written in collaboration with Violet Pearn. This 
little work has a purpose and does suggest a good deal. A selfish, self-centered 
woman is about to ruin her husband's career by refusing to follow him to Egypt, 
where he is a successful and promising English civil servant. She has a vision of 
her three previous lives, in each of which her selfishness ruins her husband, and in 
the Epilogue, under the influence of her vision, she reforms, and everybody lives 
happily ever after. The foundations are there for an admirable play and one 
wishes that it had been better done. 

Rider Haggard, in Love Eternal, departs from the magical extravagances of 
She, which, by the way, also coquettes with the idea of reincarnation, and gives us 
one of the best of recent occult novels. A couple who have often lived and loved 
before, contrive to wed and love again, in spite of adverse circumstance. There 
is an evil woman with a dangerous knowledge of practical occultism; there is also 
much about clairvoyance and hypnotism and other magical arts ; but it is well done, 
not exaggerated unduly, not too unbelievable. The tone of the book is excellent; 
the moral standards are high; there is restraint; and there are many admirable 
passages which we wish we had space and time to copy out. One must serve. 

"More than thirty years ago two atoms of the eternal Energy sped forth from 
the heart of it which we call God, and incarnated themselves in the human shapes 
that were destined to hold them for a while, as vases hold perfumes, or goblets 
wine, or as sparks of everlasting radium inhabit the bowels of the rock. Perhaps 
these two atoms, or essences, or monads indestructible, did but repeat an adventure, 
or many, many adventures. Perhaps again and again they had proceeded from 
that Home august and imperishable on certain mornings of the days of Time, to 
return thither at noon or nightfall, laden with the fruits of gained experience. So 
at least one of them seemed to tell the other before all was done and that other 
came to believe." 

The book is well put together and we can recommend it to those who read 
novels. 

Perhaps the best of recent occult books is, however, The Ghost Garden, by 
Amelie Rives. It is quite the most readable ghost story I have seen. Indeed, it 
is more than a story, for it is of novel length and is well sustained throughout. 
The authoress has read, studied and digested her theosophical books, and in this 
she is not quite fair, for she expresses contempt for the very teachings which have 
given her the information she uses in creating her story. The modern heroine has 
to fight for the possession of her lover with the Kama-lokic spook of a 17th 
century beauty, who survives almost complete, save for her physical body, and 
who is most realistically and convincingly unpleasant. It is not a book for nervous 
and imaginative people to read late at night, but it is a thrilling and exciting and 
admirably worked out novel, with the literary ability and artistic excellence of 
much of Amelie Rives' work, and it is free from the crudities and impossibilities 
which trip up most authors when they attempt to write about anything they know 
so little about as they do about the occult side of life. C. A. G. 



A Defense of Idealism, by May Sinclair, published by the Macmillan Company. 
A very interesting, acute, and suggestive criticism of modern psychopathology and 
psychoanalysis, with such philosophical conclusions and suggestions as might be 
deduced from them. The book is brilliantly written, sustained throughout, and 
though precisely technical, is lucid to a degree. Inattention would be the only 
reason for re-reading a sentence. The concluding chapter, just because Miss Sin- 
clair has pushed the logic of her arguments so hard, has more the force of actual 



REVIEWS 299 

conclusions than Miss Sinclair herself would claim. She says: "It is not, and can- 
not be, a question of certainty. No reasonable person demands certainty at this 
time of day. The utmost he is entitled to demand is a certain balance of proba- 
bilities. Perhaps not even that. Perhaps only here a balance and there a chance, 
and there, again, an off chance, a bare possibility." So speaks the unaided intellect. 
Miss Sinclair, philosophically, or metaphysically, sums up by saying that her argu- 
ment "supposes one infinite and absolute Spirit manifesting itself in many forms to 
many finite spirits" in other words, a form of Monism. But "the greatest objec- 
tion to the acceptance of this form of Monism turns on the difficulty, not to say 
the impossibility, of conceiving how the selfhood of the finite selves is maintained 
in and through their fusion with the infinite Self." In other words, the Mind, 
which Theosophy and Hindu psychology for ages have recognized as essentially 
dual, and therefore incapable by nature of comprehending the unity of the Spirit, 
cannot see, even in its own experience, how it can be at once "individual" and also 
spiritually, consciously "one" with other selves, and the Self. The intellect 
says, "It is not, and cannot be, a question of certainty." The Soul for lack of a 
better word or the new-born "inward man" of St. Paul, would say: "Gain my 
state of consciousness, and you will see how it can be done. That is what religion 
and mysticism are all about." 

Miss Sinclair does not see this. Mysticism, though real, is limited to the few, 
and so she has "given to mysticism a place apart." She admits that "mysticism is 
of immense interest and importance in Psychology" no popular admission as yet 
with the strict schools ; but instead of seeing in mysticism the key to all the future 
of human evolution the index to the lines of man's future evolution she sees in it 
only a rich and suggestive by-product, which must be studied for the light it throws 
on normal human processes. Miss Sinclair does not really or practically accept the 
spiritual world, and she knows nothing about its reflection, the psychic. (Until 
psychology accepts and investigates the latter, it will be forever astray.) There- 
fore Miss Sinclair speaks of the "dubious borderland" of "so-called supernatural 
powers" unable to make any distinctions between the real and the counterfeit, and 
sweepingly stating that "neither the believer in magic nor the mystic knows what 
is really happening." This is a gratuitously unscientific statement; but, since Miss 
Sinclair's personal experience seems to have been unfortunate, we shall assume 
that this is one instance of her difficulty in writing "fairly" about mysticism, as 
well as about Theosophy. On page 265 she writes, in her chapter on "The New 
Mysticism," where she discusses Theosophy, "I find it hard to write fairly of 
Theosophy, possibly because I have suffered from theosophists." It would be well 
if all members of The Theosophical Society might learn the lesson of this and sub- 
sequent passages. We cannot blame Miss Sinclair for her feeling and attitude ; we 
can only regret that her contact has been with those who use the name of The- 
osophy without any right to do so, and misuse it so grossly both in their conver- 
sation and in their manner of life. We should wish to make protest against any 
of the forms, self-styled Theosophical, about which Miss Sinclair writes, and to 
point out that they carry the negation of their own avowed principles in them- 
selves. Her experience of "Theosophists" appears to have been limited to members 
of Mrs. Besant's Adyar Society and its offshoots. Miss Sinclair says : 

"I hate it when a woman I disapprove of tells me that if I would only extin- 
guish all my desires I should attain Nirvana to-morrow. I know it. But I do not 
want to attain Nirvana quite so soon. When I am eating chicken, and my host is 
eating lettuce, I resent his telling me that a vegetarian cannot endure the presence 
of a flesh-eater, b.ut that he conceals his repulsion because he is holier than the 
flesh-eater. And I am really frightened when I am introduced to a female 'adept' 
who cannot walk through a churchyard without seeing what goes on in the graves, 
and who insists on describing what she has seen. Surely there is something very 
wrong here." 



300 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Miss Sinclair is right. But what she criticizes shows a total absence of The- 
osophy, in its most elementary forms, and not its presence. None the less, it is 
naturally difficult for Miss Sinclair, an onlooker, to distinguish between such insane 
counterfeits and the real Theou-sophia, which is one of St. Paul's names for the 
Christos. The possession of that would mean not less common sense and good 
manners let alone goodness and wisdom than the average, but of as much more 
than the average as the human Christ transcended the average man in just those 
essential respects. 

The reviewer found Miss Sinclair's first chapter on Samuel Butler of unusual 
interest. Butler's premises and his logic force him face to face with reincarnation, 
but he does not realize it. Heredity simply cannot explain the dilemma in which 
he finds himself. Reincarnation would ; but he turns aside into a quagmire of con- 
fusion, contradiction, and futility. Some interesting conclusions might be deduced 
from a careful comparison of James McTaggart's recent books with Butler's work. 

Miss Sinclair's book embraces a wide range of scientific reading, surprising 
to one who knows her only through her novels. There are many epigrammatic 
statements that remain in the memory, and give food for thought. Such are: "I 
believe in Pragmatism as a branch and a very important branch of casuistry" ; 
"To be degenerate is to fail to add the priceless gift of individuality to the achieve- 
ment of the race" ; ". . . Consciousness is a unity that could hardly be if there 
were no self over and above consciousness, unaffected by its multiplicity, its change 
the flux" ; and, finally, "In our present existence we are Spirit, but so limited in 
our experience that we know the appearances of Spirit far better than we know 
Spirit itself. . . . There are, after all, different kinds of certainty. . . . Our 
inner states do succeed each other at different rates of vibration, and what escapes 
us on the slow, steady swing, we seize when the pace quickens. . . . No reason- 
ing allows or accounts for these moments. But lovers and poets and painters and 
musicians and mystics and heroes know them : moments when eternal Beauty is 
seized travelling through time; moments when things that we have seen all our 
lives without truly seeing them, the flowers in the garden, the trees in the field, the 
hawthorn on the hillside, change to us in an instant of time, and show the secret 
and imperishable life they harbour ; moments when the human creature we have 
known all our life without truly knowing it, reveals its incredible godhead; mo- 
ments of danger that are moments of sure and perfect happiness, because then the 
adorable Reality gives itself to our very sight and touch. There is no arguing 
against certainties like these." A. G. 



ANSWERS 




QUESTION No. 225. "Light on the Path" says: "Seek the way by retreating 
within." The Bible says: "The* Kingdom of Heaven is within." How can one 
learn to know this with one's heart, and to live in that Kingdom? 

If the Kingdom of Heaven is within, then the King must be there too. Is one 
to pray to that King? And in trying constantly to identify oneself with the Higher 
Self is there not danger of confusing the two, or is it true that the King and the 
Higher Self are one? 

ANSWER. One method of becoming conscious of the presence of God in our 
hearts is explained wilb great clearness in Part I, Chapter X, of St. Teresa's Pater- 
noster by Frassinetti. St. Teresa says : "I endeavored, as best I could, to have 
always present within me Jesus Christ, our Supreme Good and our Lord; and this 
was my manner of prayer." The first means then, to be employed, Frassinetti says, 
in order to acquire an abiding sense of the presence of God, is to exercise our 
memory, by frequently calling to mind that God is within us. There should be no 
more difficulty in this than there would be in calling to mind, a thousand times a 
day were there any occasion for it, that we have a heart within our breast. That 
we do not understand how this can be is of no consequence. We should not 
trouble ourselves in the least over what we do not understand, but carry out in 
practice whatever little we can see, and the Lord will gradually make us taste 
something of what was previously unintelligible to us. As Frassinetti says, it is 
experience and not intellectual ability that gives understanding in these matters. 
No intellect, however powerful, and no learning, however great, would give an 
understanding of sweetness to one who had never tasted anything sweet, whereas 
experience gives it at once to the most stupid. 

St. Teresa says further : "If we can do this many times in the course of the 
day, let us do so ; if not, let us do it at least sometimes ; for when we shall have 
accustomed ourselves to it, we will derive great benefits therefrom sooner or later. 
Once the Lord shall have granted this favor to us, we will not barter it for any 
earthly treasure, but nothing is gained without a little trouble. For the love of 
God, my sisters, consider as well employed whatever care you bestow on this 
matter ; for I well know that if you practice it for a year, or even, perhaps for 
six months, you will, with God's help, obtain this favor." 

But the "palace of our soul" must be given up entirely to Him, for "if we 
crowd this palace with rabble and trumpery toys, how can it contain our Lord 
with His entire court." We have His promise, "If ye love me and keep my com- 
mandments, I and my Father will come and make our abode with you." 

There is danger of confusion through trying to identify ourselves with the 
Higher Self, as may be seen in Christian Science and similar teaching, where 
that which is true only of the higher is asserted of the lower. It is, however, also 
true that there is more danger in not trying and thus permitting ourselves to 
remain under the dominion of the lower through continuing to regard it as "our- 
selves" and its desires as "our" desires. To identify ourselves with the higher 
we must detach ourselves from the lower and must remember that it is the soul 



302 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

that is one with the oversoul, not the personality. The ocean is within the sponge, 
but the sponge does not contain the ocean. J. F. B. M. 

QUESTION No. 226. A. Is it not the excessive materialism of the so-called 
better classes that creates socialism? 

Take only two incidents that come quickly to mind: 1. / think it was in 1915 
that a daughter of Premier Asquith was married, her wedding festivities costing 
$50,000. Mrs. Sidney Webb, the Socialist writer, sent an open letter to Queen Mary 
protesting against such wanton extravagance in the midst of widespread anguish 
and deprivation. 

2. The next incident is nearer home. Although the- United States Government 
is urging upon employers as a patriotic duty that they shall adopt shorter hours to 
safeguard the life and health of women and child workers, the State of Massachu- 
setts, the second largest employer of women in the United States, refused the past 
winter through its Legislature to shorten the working day for women and children 
to eight hours, although the State has a stringent law prohibiting the employment 
of men by State or municipality for more than eight hours per d<iy or forty-eight 
hours a week. 

B In the July QUARTERLY, in the article on "Self Examination," among a list 
of questions I find, "Do I possess anything superfluous?" Please discuss that ques- 
tion at length. 

Judged by apostolic standards, there is scarcely any one so poor as not to 
possess superfluities. Yesterday I bought a ten-cent bunch of sweet peas to carry 
back to my apartment remote from trees, grass, or flowers; but conscience whis- 
pered "That would feed a French war orphan for a day." Did I do wrong? 

I can imagine a person so highly developed spiritually as to be largely uncon- 
scious of material surroundings. Is the sense of beauty merely a crutch to lead 
us on to these higher levels of existence? Perhaps something similar is true of the 
affections as expressed in the lines: 

"Something to love 
God lends us, but when love is grown 
To ripeness, that on which it throve 
Falls off: and love is left alone." 

ANSWER. The QUARTERLY has found it necessary almost to debar discussions 
of sociological problems because it has discovered from experience that the querents 
of such problems, even when honest, have a point of view that makes discussion 
useless, and which sometimes leads to heated feeling. To be quite frank, if one 
person looks at the world and all that is contained therein from a materialistic 
standpoint, as all Socialists do, whether they realize it or not, and another person 
looks at such great questions from the standpoint of the spirit, the evolution of the 
human soul, there is no common ground upon which they can get together. 

If you believe that a person cannot be religious on an empty stomach you 
naturally want to fill his stomach, and you are bound to regard the problem of food 
as all important. But if you realize that history teaches that people find it easier 
to be religious on an empty stomach than on a full one, then your center of interest 
and attention passes on beyond people's stomachs. 

If you believe that the working classes need leisure in order to be able to com- 
mune with their souls, it is quite proper to advocate shorter hours for working 
people. But if you realize that history teaches that very very few persons ever 
make a good use of leisure, you transfer your pity from the working man to the 
wealthy leisure class whom most people are inclined to envy. 

What is the use of discussing specific problems of this nature, when the diffi- 
culty is an irreconcilable difference of view about the fundamentals of life and evo- 



QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 303 

lution? Jesus said that it was easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a 
needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven; yet the programs 
of most social reformers fly directly in the face of this explicit statement. They 
want every one to be rich and prosperous and to have plenty of leisure. The fact 
that if they had, they would start straight for Hell and travel there with great 
rapidity, does not seem to worry the social reformers. Perhaps, in spite of all 
human experience, they do not believe it, but those who have really studied The- 
osophy do. They also believe that the Rulers of the Universe give every one just 
as much leisure and wealth and surcease of trouble and anxiety of all kinds as is 
good for them, and no more; and as the world is full of poverty and hunger, and 
pain and suffering, in spite of reformers, it would obviously be unwise to set up 
our judgment in the face of that of Providence, and to advocate any rearrangement 
of social and political conditions. Personally, we believe that all reforms should 
start with the individual and pretty nearly end there. 

The querent asks about the $50,000 spent on Miss Asquith's wedding and the 
10 cents on her bunch of flowers. We cannot undertake to reply to either case. 
Whether these acts were right or wrong depends upon the motive which lay back 
of them, and not at all upon the so-called good which the money might have done 
if spent in some other way.. The amount, of course, has nothing to do with it. 

C. A. G. 



ANSWER. There is a story that certain Bolshevik leaders issued an edict that 
the liturgy of the Russian Church should be modernized to conform to the revo- 
lution. The phrases the "Kingdom of Heaven" and the "Lord God" were for- 
bidden, and it was ordered that the "Republic of Heaven" and "President God" 
should be substituted for them. 

Were it not for the implications of this story there could be little doubt that 
democracies arise only through the failure of an aristocracy to justify its name 
the failure of those who are regarded as the best to fulfil the responsibilities that 
must inevitably attach to the best, to finer sensibility, deeper insight, greater knowl- 
edge and power. They are very heavy responsibilities, as each of us knows ; for 
in one relation or another the mother in her nursery or in the direction of her 
servant, the schoolboy in his relations with younger lads each of us is called upon 
to be the aristocrat and to learn the difficulty of the position and that rights and 
duties cannot be separated. The mother rightly blames herself for a revolt in the 
nursery. 

Yet it is obvious that this is not all of the truth. The implications of the 
Bolshevik edict cannot be wholly ignored. No thinking man can readily attribute 
the revolt of the evil in his nature, against the divine will, to a failure of the 
spiritual powers of righteousness. In Christian theology we can, and do, attribute 
it to the devil, to the failure of one once far above us in the spiritual hierarchy. 
But we do not attribute it to a failure of the whole principle and fact of a spiritual 
hierarchy and decide that there must hereafter be no Lord God. We see rather, 
that the individual failure of the prince of darkness has made us conscious of a 
power of choice of which we otherwise might not have been conscious. We are 
aware that we can revolt, that we can attempt to disregard duty, to challenge the 
divine order and seek self. Though we have very little power of originality, we 
can choose what we will imitate; and our choice judges us. 

The outer world is but the reflection of the inner. The same principles govern 
both. We can look to the "so-called better classes" and see much failure, much 
materialism, much neglect of duty, and much self-seeking; or we may see the oppo- 
site, consistent self-giving, service and self-sacrifice. We choose which we will 
imitate, which we will desire for ourselves; and according to our choice we must 
be judged. 



304 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Socialism is undoubtedly fostered by the materialism of those that should be 
"the best." But it is so fostered because it is the fruits of such materialistic self- 
seeking that the convert to socialism envies. He wishes to indulge himself as he 
sees others indulge themselves ; to throw off moral restraint as they have thrown it 
off; to claim rights as he sees others claim them; to neglect and deny duty as they 
appear to do. No revolt is needed by the man who would emulate the good, who 
would give himself, instead of seeking for himself. He finds his opportunity limit- 
less in the world exactly as it is. And this is the proof that the world is under 
divine law. 

There could be little profit in our attempting to decide how much money some 
one else should have spent upon the marriage of his daughter. Perhaps the Prime 
Minister of Great Britain was extravagant, but it in no way compels the institution 
of socialism to enable us to be economical. Nor is it clear why the refusal of the 
Massachusetts Legislature to pass a law limiting women and children's labor to 
eight hours a day should lead us to believe that we will be better governed under a 
socialistic state of ignorant, even if collective, self-seeking. We might doubt the 
wisdom of placing legal limitations upon the length of time a man should work, 
and criticize the legislature for the bill they did pass, as well as for the one they 
rejected. We might argue that the work for which women and children are em- 
ployed is often not physically onerous, and that it is no real hardship for a boy, 
who must earn his living, to be in a doctor's office to answer the telephone and 
door bell from eight to one and from two to six. (We know of one lad who fitted 
himself for college during such employment.) But all of this would be beside the 
mark. Be the action of others wise or foolish, good or evil, the established order 
that we find about us requires no change to enable us to seek wisdom and to serve 
the good. It is only as we seek the opposite that we find circumstances a barrier. 
Let us remember what the Gita tells us : "The duty of another is full of danger." 

The question of the ten-cent bunch of flowers goes really very deep, perhaps 
because the principle involved is very simple. Nothing can be gained or done save 
at a cost. // faut payer la vie. Is what we do worth the cost? With each breath 
we draw, with each step we take, we transform other forms of life into our own. 
We destroy life (if we do not realize that life cannot be destroyed but only trans- 
muted) in order that we ourselves may live the life of plants, and animals, and 
myriads upon myriads of infinitesimal vital organisms, none the less vital because 
minute. What does our life give back to the sum total of being to justify this 
cost? Is the great whole better and richer for the transformation we make in it? 
Is that which we create worth more than what we destroy? 

What was the fruit of that ten-cent expenditure on flowers? Was the world 
of thought and feeling purer, sweeter, more wholesome and more beautiful because 
a human heart gave of its vitality to something pure and sweet and wholesome and 
beautiful? Is the realm of thought and feeling more potent than the physical, so 
that the world may be the richer for physical loss if there be sentient gain? The 
dime the flowers cost is but a symbol of a cost far greater. Was it made to yield 
a profit? 

It is not the cost that we must look to, but the balance of profit or loss. That 
which is "superfluous" is that which yields no profit adequate to the expenditure. 
Let us remember the parable of the talents when we look upon the life with which 
we are entrusted and most particularly when we look upon the lives or gifts of 
others. To the man who was given but one talent, nine of those given to the man 
with ten may well have seemed a superfluity. Yet it was his one that was "super- 
fluous," lying buried in the earth, not his fellow's ten, that yielded other ten by 
being spent in ways whose profit he himself could not foresee nor comprehend. 

H. B. M. 




APRIL, 1919 

The Theosophical Society, as such, is not responsible for an\ opinion 
or declaration in this magazine, by whomsoever expressed, unless con- 
tained in an official document. 

A DRAMA OF THE GREAT INITIATION 

SHELLEY'S Prometheus Unbound was completed, so far as the 
essential part of it is concerned, on April 6, 1819 that is, an even 
century ago Shelley being then in Rome, and writing much of the 
great drama amid the ruins of the baths of Caracaila. Prome- 
theus Unbound is not only Shelley's greatest work a judgment in which 
the best critics of pure literature concur; it is not only greater than any 
other work belonging to one of the greatest and richest periods of Eng- 
lish poetry and this means the best poetry of the modern world ; it is, in 
a certain deep and true sense, the greatest poem, the greatest drama in the 
English tongue ; greater than anything since Dante, and to be compared, 
in all literature since Homer's day and in the Western world, with two 
poems only : the Divina Commedia, of Dante and the Prometheus Bound 
of ^schylus. 

These three poems stand at the head of the three great poetical litera- 
tures of Europe Greece, Italy and England because each one of them 
adequately embodies the greatest theme: the tremendous theme of the 
Great Initiation. Spiritual life, in the widest sense, is the real theme 
of poetry; though there abound poems the psychic counterfeit of real 
poetry which know nothing of spiritual life, unless it be that side, vital 
and real, but too often unconscious, which is expressed in beauty and the 
music and magic of words; for the true music of verse is always an 
expression even though unconscious of the inner music ; an echo, even 
though distant, of the music of the spheres, "Still quiring to the young- 
eyed Cherubim." 

If Shakespeare, from whom this verse is taken, cannot be counted 
the equal of Dante, of yEschylus, of the author of Prometheus Unbound, 
it is because, in his dramas, there is so little revelation of spiritual life; 
so slight a realization of it in his many-sided insight into man that the 

20 305 



306 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

immortal is almost unknown to him. He has written comedies full of 
mirth and charm; in how many of them do his persons find the soul 
through joy? He has written tragedies full of terrible beauty; in how 
many of them do the victims of tragedy find the soul through pain? It 
is true that a Master has cited Hamlet as expressing one side of the 
disciple's life ; but it is the side, not of redemption, but of failure ; a 
despondent weakness, like that of Arjuna; but a weakness over which 
there was no victory, like Arjuna's victory. 

And it is because Prometheus Unbound reveals not only the life of 
the disciple, but the trial and triumph of the Master, and this with the 
utmost truth and beauty, that it seems right to hold this poem not only 
the greatest in a great poetic epoch but the greatest in all modern poetry 
since the Paradiso of Dante. And in the whole cycle of Western poetry 
we shall find nothing to rank with these two, until we come back to 
^schylus. 

The Prometheus Bound of ^schylus has come to us complete, per- 
fect in all its austere beauty. Of his Prometheus Unbound, we have only 
fragments. This moved Shelley, who was saturated with the spirit of 
.ZEschylus, to take in hand to write, not a conjectural completion of the 
lost work of the great dramatist of Athens, but rather a complement, a 
fulfilment, of ^Eschylus' Prometheus Bound; the completed revelation of 
the spiritual cycle of which Prometheus Bound is a part. 

The drama of ^Eschylus, in the very spirit of yEschylus, and with all 
his majesty and music, is summed up by Shelley in the speech with which 
Prometheus opens the new drama : 

PROMETHEUS 

Monarch of Gods and Daemons, and all Spirits 
But One, who throng those bright and rolling worlds 
Which Thou and I alone of living things 
Behold with sleepless eyes ! regard this Earth 
Made multitudinous with thy slaves, whom thou 
Requitest for knee-worship, prayer, and praise, 
And toil, and hecatombs of broken hearts, 
With fear and self -contempt and barren hope. 
Whilst me, who am thy foe, eyeless in hate, 
Hast thou made reign and triumph, to thy scorn, 
O'er mine own misery and thy vain revenge. 
Three thousand years of sleep-unsheltered hours, 
And moments aye divided by keen pangs 
Till they seemed years, torture and solitude, 
Scorn and despair these are mine empire! 
More glorious far than that which thou surveyest 
From thine unenvied throne, O, Mighty God ! 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 307 

Almighty, had I deigned to share the shame 
Of thine ill tyranny, and hung not here 
Nailed to this wall of eagle-baffling mountain, 
Black, wintry, dead, unmeasured; without herb, 
Insect, or beast, or shape or sound of life. 
Ah me! alas, pain, pain ever, for ever! 

Before we go further, let us try to fix the Persons of this great 
Drama of Initiation, with their significance. Who is Prometheus, thus 
nailed, a sacrificial victim, to the rock, doomed to suffer "pain, pain ever, 
for ever" ? Who is the Zeus of ./Eschylus, the Jupiter of Shelley, "Mon- 
arch of Gods and Daemons, and all Spirits but One," by whose decree the 
sacrificial victim was thus offered? 

We may best seek the answer from yEschylus, whose symbolism 
taken, we may believe, from the Mysteries which Hellas received from 
Mother Egypt Shelley has used with such magnificent truth. Zeus is 
"the Son of Chronos," who is the Son of Ouranos; that is, the Son of 
Heaven. But Chronos, identified with Saturn, is Time, and Time, for 
the mystic, for the Master, is, and must always be "the Great Delusion." 
These three Gods: Ouranos, Time, Zeus, reigned successively over the 
world of gods and men ; Chronos dethroning Ouranos, and in turn 
dethroned by usurping Zeus. These three divinities thus symbolize at 
once three great successive epochs in the cycle of Life which is depicted 
by The Secret Doctrine, and the successive powers or emanations which 
dominate these epochs. To put the matter in the terms of the Seven 
Races : Ouranos represents the early spiritual races ; Chronos, God of the 
"Golden Age," symbolizes the later, semi-ethereal races, not yet fallen ; 
while Zeus stands for the period beginning with the Fall, as The Secret 
Doctrine depicts it: the period of the Atlanteans, which saw the forma- 
tion of the hierarchy of Adepts, and, at the same time, of the hierarchy 
of Darkness, the "Brothers of the Shadow." 

Looked at from the side of the Principles, both cosmic and individual 
both macrocosmic and microcosmic Ouranos represents the higher 
sphere, the principle of Atma-Buddhi and its universal source, but still 
passive, not yet active and conscious; Chronos, ("Time," the Great Delu- 
sion), represents Manas, "Slayer of the Real"; for through the activity 
of Manas, the illusion of Time comes into being. Zeus, then, represents 
the principle of Kama, and the cosmic force of which Kama is the expres- 
sion, that power which Christ personified as "the Prince (Archon) of 
this world," and to which he also gave the name of Satan, "the Opposer," 
and of Mammon ; opposing and set against the spiritual power which 
Christ embodied and revealed. The Adversary, Son of Time the Great 
Delusion, is, then, the Power which nailed Prometheus to the rock. 



308 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

Who, then, is Prometheus? yEschylus, in Prometheus Bound, 
makes this quite clear. Prometheus brought "fire" to mankind. But he 
had first brought fire to the gods, including Zeus himself. He is not 
merely an adventurous Titan who purloined a possession of the gods, 
and bestowed it upon mankind. He is far more and greater than that. 
For it was Prometheus who gave to the gods their own power, which 
Zeus and those who stood with him then perverted. Nor is it merely 
physical "fire," appearing in the hand of Zeus as the lightning, and among 
mankind as the "fire on the hearth." that Prometheus bestowed on gods 
and men. According to the allegory present everywhere in the great 
Upanishads of India (which appear to embody the still older mystic 
wisdom of Egypt), "fire" represents the triple power, spiritual, psychic 
and physical ; the light of the Sun, first of the "three fires," .stands for 
spiritual fire ; lightning, the light of the mid-world, stands for psychical 
fire ; while "the fire on the hearth" stands for physical fire, both the vital 
fire of the human body, also called Prana, and actual physical fire. The 
"fire on the altar," most beautifully symbolized in the religion of 
Zoroaster of the Parsees, is the creative fire in the human body, once 
perverted, but afterwards purified by sacrifice, by consecration. 

But the natural "fire." in the Sun, in lightning, in the body and on 
the hearth, is not merely the symbol of its spiritual counterpart ; it is 
actually the same force, externally manifested. For there is no chasm 
between Spirit and Matter, but rather a fundamental identity between 
them. Both are manifestations of the One. The chasm between them 
is part of the Great Illusion. Nor is there any fundamental chasm 
between the spiritual fire and its lower counterpart, the passional fire of 
perverted creative power. The latter is the perversion of the former, 
not an antithetical, opposing force ; not an eternal and independent 
Ahriman, set against Ormuzd, as in the Manichean misunderstanding of 
Zoroastrianism. As the passional fire is the perversion of the spiritual 
fire, so the redemption comes, not through the annihilation of the per- 
verted power but through its re-transformation and transmutation. 
Until this transformation is accomplished, the soul is chained to the rock 
of its desires, the divine fire entering into its perversion yet scorning it. 
This is at once the Great Sacrifice and the cause of that long-enduring 
pain, "pain forever," pain, that is, until the end of Time, the Great 
Delusion, of which Prometheus speaks. 

Prometheus, then, bestows this fire, as divine power, upon Zeus and 
his brothers, the "Sons of Time" ; who on one side symbolize the 
Atlantean epoch, and on the other the middle principles of man. And 
when Zeus and his brothers have perverted this divine power, Prometheus 
then bestows it on mankind, giving them spiritual life and intellectual 
light. From one point of view, mankind here stands for the Fifth Race, 
humanity on the upward cycle of spiritual progression : mankind in proc- 
ess of redemption. 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 309 

But to what Power does mankind in fact owe this infusion of 
spiritual fire? What Power is in fact working out the redemption of 
humanity? Surely the answer is: the Great Lodge, which is the power 
of the Logos the Life and Light of the Logos in Incarnation. Pro- 
metheus would seem, then, to stand for the White Lodge, the united Life 
of the hierarchy of Masters. And this should suggest, what appears to 
be the reality: that it is not one Master only who is crucified, but the 
whole Lodge of Masters, whom that one Master represents, both sym- 
bolically and in fact; that it is the White Lodge that is nailed with out- 
stretched hands to the Rock, or to the Cross ; that the fact of this Cruci- 
fixion constitutes the very being and nature of the Master of every 
Master in the Lodge, and of the Lodge as a whole ; the very process of 
Crucifixion is that which constitutes the Master, and is, in fact, the Great 
Initiation. 

It would seem to be a fundamental error, and a highly dangerous 
one, to think of the Great Initiation as a gain of knowledge only, as noth- 
ing more than the revelation of mysteries of new insight, the communica- 
tion of mysteries and far-reaching powers. An initiation on the side of 
Darkness may be this, an initiation on the Left Hand Path. But the true 
Initiation, the Initiation of the Right Hand Path, of the White Lodge of 
Masters, while it is a revelation both of wisdom and of power, is funda- 
mentally a Sacrifice, a Crucifixion. And it is the grasping of power and 
knowledge without Sacrifice, which is the essence of the Left Hand Path ; 
as, for instance, the prostitution of science to the powers of evil, the use 
of intellect for the purposes of evil, which was exemplified on one side in 
the Great War. 

Not only is the true Initiation, the Initiation of a Master of the 
White Lodge, a Sacrifice, a Crucifixion ; it is an unending Crucifixion, the 
acceptance of "pain, pain f orever ' ; pain that must be borne until the end 
of Time, the great Delusion. Therefore it has been truly said that the 
wounds of the Master, the wounds of the Crucifixion, can never be 
healed until the wounds of humanity, our wounds, have first been healed. 
And this is true of all Masters. For the Master, having, through the 
long trials and purifications leading up to the Great Initiation which 
makes him a Master, through the sevenfold cycle of discipleship, com- 
pletely purified his own nature, consummated all Sacrifice in himself, and 
restored to its pristine purity the spiritual fire within himself, then makes 
the supreme Sacrifice : laying aside the reward which he has fully earned, 
and which is justly his, he assumes a burden which is not justly his: the 
burden, namely, of the sins of others, "the heavy Karma of humanity." 

This, then, the heavy burden of the world's evil Karma, would seem 
to be the Cross to which the Master freely allows himself to be nailed, 
the Rock to which Prometheus is chained. And the Sacrifice consists in 
this: that the Master freely assumes this burden, which is not in justice 
his, knowing full well that he must bear it, in all its crushing weight, 



310 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

until Humanity has been redeemed. He must bear his Cross, he must 
remain chained to the Rock, until the consummation of the ages, until 
"the time of the end," until "the great day Be-with-Us," when Humanity, 
purified by suffering, is re-united to the Masters' Lodge, there to remain 
forever. 

Two more Powers in this great Mystery Drama may be interpreted 
along the same lines: the Earth (or, the Spirit of the Earth) and the 
most mysterious Being called Demogorgon. In Act I of the drama, in 
answer to a question of Prometheus, the Earth speaks thus: 

"I am the Earth, 

Thy mother, she within whose stony veins, 
To the last fibre of the loftiest tree 
Whose thin leaves trembled in the frozen air^ 
Joy ran, as blood within a living frame, 
When thou didst from her bosom, like a cloud 
Of glory, arise, a spirit of keen joy !" 

This is, one may say, a deeply occult description of the living Earth, 
which has its inner principles, its ensouling spheres, as has the microcosm 
of man. It is this, but it would seem also to be more: namely, Maya, 
as "the active power of God," the power of manifestation, of differenti- 
ation, without which the manifested Universe could never be brought 
forth from the Eternal; the power without which even the Masters, as 
individuals, could not come into being. Just as Maya is the name given 
to the sinless mother of the Buddha, as Avatar, while the immaculate 
mother of the Western Avatar bears a name of similar import ; so the 
Earth here, in the same mystical sense, is rightly called the mother of 
Prometheus. She is, in one sense, the feminine aspect of the Logos ; the 
power called, in the Mystery Teaching of India, the feminine Viraj. 

This is perfectly conformable with a later passage in the same won- 
derful speech of the Earth, in which that mysterious being says of the 
defiance uttered by Prometheus against the tyranny of Zeus : 



"Aye, I heard 

Thy curse, the which, if thou rememberest not, 
Yet my innumerable seas and streams, 
Mountains and caves and winds, and yon wide air, 
And the inarticulate people of the dead 
Preserve, a treasured spell. We meditate 
In secret joy and hope those dreadful words, 

But dare not speak them 

They shall be told. Ere Babylon was dust 
The Magus Zoroaster, my dead child, 
Met his own image walking in the garden. 



NOTES AND COMMENTS 311 

That apparition, sole of men, he saw. 
For know there are two worlds of life and death : 
One that which thou beholdest ; but the other 
Is underneath the grave, where do inhabit 
The shadows of all forms that think and live, 
Till death unite them and they part no more : 
Dreams and the light imaginings of men, 
And all that faith creates or love desires, 
Terrible, strange, sublime and beauteous shapes. 
There thou art, and dost hang, a writhing shade, 
'Mid whirlwind peopled mountains. All the gods 
Are there, and all the powers of nameless worlds, 
Vast, sceptred phantoms ; heroes, men, and beasts ; 
And Demogorgon, a tremendous gloom; 
And he, the supreme Tyrant, on his throne 
Of burning gold " 

Who, then, is Demogorgon? The most suggestive answer, perhaps, 
may be given by a simple quotation from Murray's Dictionary : the name, 
literally translated, means: "terrible to the multitude." The name is not 
found in the older classical writers, but appears first in the fifth century 
of our era, in the note of a scholiast, as "the great nether deity, invoked 
in magic rites" ; in more modern times, Demogorgon appears in Boccaccio's 
Genealogy of the Gods, and from this source the name was probably 
derived by Ariosto, Milton, Shelley and others. From its connexion with 
magic (this author suggests), Demogorgon may be a disguised form of 
some Oriental name. One more suggestion : In Keightley's Fairy 
Mythology (1850) it is recorded that, according to Ariosto, "Demogorgon 
has a splendid temple palace in the Himalaya mountains, whither every 
fifth year the Fates are all summoned to appear before him to give an 
account of their actions" ; surely a most suggestive phrase. 

This Power, enthroned in a splendid temple in the Himalayas; this 
Power of the occult world, invoked in magic rites ; this Power, which is 
in truth "terrible to the multitude" ; which brings about the punishment 
of the Tyrant and the liberation of Prometheus, would seem to be none 
other than the great Lodge itself, which, tradition tells us, has indeed 
a dwelling place in the Himalaya mountains. 



CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM 



WITH the death of the old year, the Theosophical Movement 
received the Master's accolade. Now the down stroke of 
that mighty sword is swift and powerful, often cutting deep, 
so that secret things of the heart are revealed. And then 
the soul, faint with pain, and reeling from the blow, hears the ringing 
cry : Close ranks. Carry on. 

My God, n&w to carry on ! Yes, above all times, now ! What finer 
tribute to lay upon a hero's grave than the courage of a broken heart ; 
what sheaves of flowers, or towering beauty of marble, can compare with 
it. What nobler offering to place at the Master's feet. Close ranks. 

Carry on. 

******** 

Beloved, ye do not sorrow as those which have no hope. And we, 
pray God, make answer, Nay, Lord, for our hope is in thee. 

So, piercing even the bitter, bitter pain of our personal desolation, 
shall come the echoes of that marvellous voice repeating: Blessed are 
they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. CAVE. 



He stands there a man. The years pass with all they hold, and he 
stands there above the years, head and shoulders and big. glowing heart 
held high. 

Here is a kingly man and a warrior with the heart of a child. 
Clean he is and strong; quick to forgive; impetuous, impatient of delay 
he seeks his goal. 

What network of words shall contain him? Will a net hold fire? 
For he was a man of fire, and in his glance flashed clear a spark from the 
eternal radiance. 

An aristocrat, a tall man of quiet poise and steadfast look ; generous, 
genial of soul, with that humility born of great courage and single devo- 
tion to a cause. 

So many people loved him ! And did they think it only their random 
glimpse of his great, kindly heart which made them love him? Perhaps. 
But how often he was thinking of them with solicitude and affection, few 
only could have known. There was room in his nature for so many 
people, for their burdens, their failures, their struggles onward, and for 
their joys, yes, and for their love. 



CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM 313 

Few knew him intimately, none knew him familiarly, but so many 
people knew him well. To know him at all was to know him well, for 
he was clearly and truly himself at every contact point with life. A many 
sided man he was, a man of culture, a man of affairs, one who had 
travelled well, a lover of children, devoted to family, friends and church ; 
a wise counsellor, a rare companion, a gifted listener, and through all 
that he did and said spoke the loyal servant of his Lord. 

Downtown in his office, on the train, chatting with a poor parishioner, 
at a Board meeting, in the Cathedral, scolding an office boy, tending his 
poppies, cooking dinner at the farm, writing an article, on the witness 
stand, chopping down a tree, editing the QUARTERLY, on his knees at 
church, lunching with a celebrity, cheering up a clerk, writing letters at 
home, taking friends for a picnic, these and the thousand events of life 
were but the channels through which he rushed to the sea. 

What did he talk about after luncheon downtown, while he smoked? 
The war, some saint he was reading, English politics, a new machine gun, 
the temples at Philae, a theory of economics, lovely France, chastity as a 
power, a book on spiders, the difference between a decision and a resolu- 
tion, how beautifully Jeanne d'Arc used words, what people mean when 
they say "democracy," sunset on Lake Geneva, Sir Oliver Lodge on mat- 
ter, the purposes of pain, what happens when we try to be good, nonsense 
for us to think the Crusaders uncivilized, up the Nile and in the desert. 
Napoleon's plans of campaign almost the only thing we know truly about 
him, why we shrink from Jesus' hours on the Cross, how very little better 
we are than the worst men we know. 

I miss him so ! He gave of himself with such royal generosity that 
we were borne forward on the tide of his aspiration. To him life was 
dynamic. He never stopped to contemplate the difficulties of an obstacle, 
but took it with a rush and conquered it with that splendid, unremitting 
drive which was so truly a part of his nature. A shy man of great gifts, 
who conquered himself. 

I miss him so! There was never a moment when the need of any 
one did not command his whole sympathy. He who could have been a 
great figure in the world of affairs, chose the path of service in his Mas- 
ter's cause. All that he was and all that he had was poured out for those 
he loved, for those who came within the great circle of his care and 
affection. 

I miss him so ! I owe him so much. I can hardly w r ait to see him 
again. I love him so. K. D. P. 



I think of Mr. Griscom first as a warrior, the warrior disciple of his 
warrior Master. He used his physical life as a soldier uses his sword in 
battle, unsparingly, until it broke with the power of his blows. In my 
room at home I have a picture of a knight in armour of red and gold, 



314 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

defending a passage alone, erect and dauntless, against a host of black- 
clad enemies that throng about him. I bought it because to me that 
upright, fearless warrior is a better picture of Mr. Griscom than any 
portrait could be. 

It has been my great privilege to see him in more than one fight 
against apparently overwhelming odds. Never once did I see his faith 
waver. At the darkest moments, when defeat seemed inevitable, when 
apparently there was no hope and nothing that could be done, he would 
calmly wait. One felt he was keeping his eyes fixed steadfastly on the 
face of his great Commander, in the sure trust of a child or a great 
soldier, that a way would be opened for him. The instant the smallest 
opening appeared, as it never failed to do, he acted with swift courage 
and energy, wringing victory from what had seemed certain defeat. 

His writing is full of wise guidance and inspiration, yet it was not 
by anything that he said or wrote, but by what he was. by the spirit that 
shone through all that he did, that he drew so many to seek the Path, 
that they might gain something of that spirit which they saw and loved 
in him. In every activity of his life he showed forth the beauty of 
discipleship. It made him a companion of infinite charm and humour, 
of cultured tastes, of wide experience and reading, a business man of 
high honour and marked ability, a most chivalrous gentleman, a tender, 
loving friend, a wise, patient, sympathetic teacher, an inspiring leader. 
His very presence brought a sense of peace and benediction. 

He gave his life to the last drop in the age-long battle for the coming 
of his Master's Kingdom on earth, and all who knew and loved him 
know that he will never cease to fight until the final victory is won. 
When I think of him, I pray that I may so live my life as to earn the 
high privilege of fighting once more, in however humble a capacity, by 
his side, under his leadership, in that greatest of all causes. 

J. F. B. M. 



One whose life is unified by a single big purpose, expressed in every 
relation, will be understood and revered by the simple of heart. Mr. 
Griscom was. To me, the meaning of his wonderful directness and sin- 
cerity came as a gradual revelation. When I first heard him present, at 
a T. S. meeting, his views on some question of conduct, I dissented, saying 
to myself, Here is a well-to-do man, whose business runs itself, who 
naturally makes friendly connection with every one he meets! but how 
little he really knows about human nature, about life, complicated as it is. 
By and by I learned that he spoke as a deep student of human nature, 
with the full knowledge of its traits that bespeaks conquest. From time 
to time there was chance reference to numerous forms of work for others, 
in all of which he seemed to be engaged, and finally the opportunity to 
assist in one was offered me. I was really sorry to decline ; the explana- 



CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM 315 

tion about my busy life seemed to amuse him. Evidently, I said, he is 
himself a man of la*-ge leisure, of many gifts ; how could he recognize my 
position? Years later I discovered that he knew more than I did about 
the grind of long business hours; yet he also carried all those varied 
interests, and was always ready to take on another. His directness of 
thought, his bluntness of speech, gave me an uncomfortable challenge. 
Talking on the topics of the day, his whole attitude and manner was that 
of a cultivated man of the world, who had read much, travelled widely, 
and touched life at many angles then all of a sudden, some question or 
comment brought out the big blunt man, who went through a flimsy pre- 
tence about real things as he might walk through moonbeams ; his objec- 
tive was always clear ; he had no patience with haziness there. 

Such, as I then thought, was the student who offered to help me 
with my many problems in trying to lead the theosophic life. There were 
elements of dismay in my rejoicing; he was so big. No one, however, 
could withstand the torrent of generosity with which he gave of the 
treasure he had garnered. With it, he contrived to give the very atmos- 
phere of those high places from which it had come, a bit of heaven's 
sunshine, a message direct from "home." At first, his size mystified me ; 
I had to get to know him block by block, and then, when I came to put 
together those giant blocks, my replica of the man towered so high that 
only his quiet humility, his all-comprehending flash of humour, made 
approach to him easy. His swift response to any real demand then 
bridged and closed the gap. He never "played safe" ; no matter how 
stupid or stubborn one might be, one knew that he was ready to put his 
fortune, in knowledge, experience, information, at one's disposal. How 
often, after giving all that seemed wise, he would apparently decide to 
take a chance and quickly double the gift! 

He was a guide who never "preached." He had no confidence in 
wordy explanations ; no desire to satisfy the mind's contention. His 
respect for honest effort was as outspoken as his scorn of sham brotherli- 
ness. He shared with you his love of truth, his hatred of the crooked 
and malicious. He breathed so much of life into his ideal for you, that 
common decency required you to get to be on speaking terms with it. 
His shyness had the rare quality of respect for the reserves of others ; his 
simplicity was of that unusual type that sees straight and clear, not be- 
cause it overlooks conflicting details (no smallest detail in the deportment 
and conduct of his charges escaped his notice), but because it clearly 
traces the purpose behind them. It was with the wisdom born of such 
simplicity that he helped many to lay, broad and firm, the foundations 
for a theosophic life : our superstructure is yet to be raised there, and he 
is gone. How are we to achieve what we know he expected of us? 
Why not, with his guidance, just as before he "upstairs," and we below ? 

The quality which he supremely manifested seems to me to have been 
love; a love that was essentially one with his love for his Master. It was 
as though a beam of that ardent love were constantly bent back on itself, 



316 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

to enlighten, to encourage, to bless, those who in any degree looked to 
that Master for light. His tenderness was that of the soldier, who has 
given all for his Cause. He had the courage, the tempered recklessness 
of the warrior type, gentle but utterly uncompromising; with the light- 
heartedness that comes only through heavy burdens, bravely carried. 
But his burden-bearing was not that of the half-way ascetic ; he was not 
riveted to it how completely he could lay care aside when the rare oppor- 
tunity came for occupation that was wholly congenial. 

Big, human, loving, wise, the pattern of the elder brother. 

I. E. P. 



The sunshine of October afternoons ! That, I think, suggests the 
quality in Mr. Griscom that most impresses me, his mellow humanity. 
In the brightness of spring one has always to anticipate the glare of 
dreadful heat. In October, the fierceness of the sun has been mellowed 
into gold ; the fruit of the cycle has been gathered, and there is a royal 
"Nunc Dimittis" as nature serenely awaits the season of inner rumination. 
Surely we are deeply indebted to the friend whose abundant and ripe 
experience so often shone through the grey chill of our resentments and 
irritations, expanding our indrawn and pent-up hearts, enkindling us with 
his sunset glow, until our long sullen journey on earth seemed to touch 
its end at heaven's gate. 

I felt this, I think, in the very beginning of our acquaintance, sev- 
eral years ago. I had just joined the Society as a member "at large." 
I was isolated and lonely. At lunch I was surprised by a telephone call 
from Mr. Griscom. He had business in my city and asked if I could 
not join him for the afternoon. I did so, and when I returned to my 
home, my damp dungeon of a world was warm and human. We spent 
three hours or more together, and he accompanied me to my door in the 
late afternoon. There was nothing pastoral or magisterial or inquisi- 
torial, or even elder brotherly in his attitude. He did not talk much of 
the Society and its work. He was just human. And the surprising 
thing to me was that there seemed no other motive and object in our visit 
together than his wish for my companionship. I did not understand it. 

So often since then he has deepened that impression ! He said to 
me, many times, casually, something to the effect of there being no bond 
like that between fellow-travellers. Perhaps the words used a few sen- 
tences back about "heaven's gate" are clearer now. 

Some words of his own confirm this impression of mine. A month 
or two before his death, I was trying to draw out his opinion of various 
persons in the past. He responded in his customary generous way, and 
gave much more than I had asked. "St. Frangois de Sales is my ideal 
of a saint," Mr. Griscom said, as we talked ; "he was so human." 



CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM 317 

Is it not just this quality of humanity that the Master chose to add 
on to His Divine attributes when He undertook further efforts for the 
world ? Is it not the quality in Himself that He revealed to His servant, 
the blessed Margaret Mary, as the one likely to draw men and women to 
imitate His example? Was it not the Master's humanity that warmed 
and cheered us in Mr. Griscom? Did Mr. Griscom not wear it as the 
"colours" of the King to whose service he had consecrated his life? 

c. c. c. 



The cablegram which gave me the news of the death of Mr. Griscom 
reached me at the Headquarters First Army at Bar-sur-Aube, France, on 
the night of January 1st. 

In the train, while returning from a leave on the afternoon of 
December 30th, at approximately the time when the hour of his death 
must have been approaching, I had had, for no particular reason for 
which I could account at the time, a most vivid feeling of being lifted 
up into an atmosphere of peace and joy and strength, of being extraor- 
dinarily happy. I could not account for it at all. I had made no con- 
scious effort, had felt no particular need nor any special reaching out 
towards things unseen for companionship. indeed, rather the reverse, 
for I was tired and sleepy. It just came, and seemed to envelop me for 
an hour or so. I thought of it afterwards, in the intervening two days 
before the cablegram came, several times, with a feeling of gratitude and 
wonder ; it was such a very special experience. But after the cablegram 
arrived, I made connection between that afternoon and the news it con- 
tained, and wondered, as I have since, whether what I had felt might not 
have been some reflection of the joy in the presence of the Angels at the 
speedy coming of a companion, or some faint touch of the spirit of the 
man himself which had already loosed the hold of the body, and was 
almost free, and was infinitely happy. 

It seems futile to say that I felt that I had lost one of my best friends 
in the world, when I do not really feel that I have lost him at all. But 
time only seems to accentuate the ways in which I miss him. I knew him 
as a great teacher in his words and in his works ; a great example ; as 
being wise in the wisdom of things real ; as an inspiring director of 
activities both inner and outer ; as a tower of strength in the little 
meetings where a few gathered together to talk of those things which 
were closest to their hearts: and there are many others who are saying 
these same things. But I find myself just now thinking of him in more 
personal ways. 

For I knew him, too, as the courteous, kindly gentleman in whose 
house I had stayed, and whose quiet consideration and thought fulness 
for a guest was so unusual, and who admitted that guest unreservedly 
into all the beauty of the family atmosphere. And as a delightful com- 



318 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

panion, whether in the open air, with his observations of the country and 
of flowers and gardens, and his experiences out of doors ; or in the city, 
in his moments of recreation, when he would talk for a while of things 
and events political, financial, business, military with such shrewd 
judgment and keen insight, and always with the delightful humour that 
kept coming through. I felt that I was always smiling inside when I 
was with him ; one was constantly catching the kind, humorous gleam in 
his eye at all sorts of unexpected times. And time and time again, when 
I had been talking with him about things that were going on in the world, 
I myself thoroughly immersed in the practical consideration of them, he 
would with a few words connect the whole series of outer events about 
which we had been talking, with the forces which were directing them 
behind the scenes, with the possible purposes on other planes which were 
being striven for ; and in an instant the veils were away, things not under- 
stood shaped themselves, and we were again in touch with the real world 
in which he truly lived. 

It is this companionship with the man who, among many other things, 
was a most dearly loved friend in all the most real meaning of the word, 
who although older seemed in one way always an equal in age, that is one 
of the most dear recollections. And yet I do not really feel in the least 
that it has ceased. C. R. A. 



With startling and staggering swiftness, our guide, counsellor and 
friend, C. A. G., has been removed from this life of ours in the body. 
This "gift from the Masters of Wisdom" has created a need for, and 
consequently a striving towards, a fuller realization of the immortal and 
eternal elements of our intercourse with him. This realization arouses 
more intense aspirations towards the ideals for which he strove, the prin- 
ciples and motives underlying all his actions. 

"That which lives when all else has passed away is the desire with 
which the man was working, not the results he accomplished. The good 
he loved and served endures forever ; the good he strove to do more 
often dies" (Fragments, Vol. I). If we would honor C. A. G. by raising 
an eternal memorial to him, in loving tribute to the Masters for their 
gifts to us through him, let us seek the "desire with which he was work- 
ing," the "good he loved and served," and make that desire our own in 
fuller measure, and endeavor more earnestly and faithfully to put into 
practice the principles and ideals which actuated him. 

In simple, direct, illuminating and forceful terms, and with com- 
pelling love for the Master, his "Elementary Articles" in the THEOSOPHI- 
CAL QUARTERLY set forth directions for finding the Path of Discipleship 
and the dangers and pitfalls that beset the follower of that Path. His 
was the gift in exceptional degree of translating from the abstract to the 



CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM 319 

concrete, from the theoretical to the practical, the precepts and principles 
upon which the progress of the would-be disciple must rest. 

Those who were privileged to come into contact with a life so devoted 
to the Cause he loved so deeply, and served so faithfully and well, learned 
to rely upon his rugged strength, his loving sympathy, and his wise coun- 
sels. What a debt we owe him ! How much we have to be thankful for ! 
A staunch and dauntless leader, what a tower of strength he was ! Fol- 
lowing his inspiring leadership, let us press on, comrades, with renewed 
vigor to the fray, repeating the battle-cry he sounded at our last Conven- 
tion: "Faith, Courage, Constancy." G. H. M. 



My association with Mr. Griscom was unlike that of most readers 
of the QUARTERLY. It originated in business, and I saw him chiefly, 
though not entirely, in that connection. 

One of Mr. Griscom's unusual attributes was the appeal that his 
character and point of view had for people of widely different ideas, 
training and environment. Many others will feel they knew him as well 
and as intimately as I did, and yet I am equally sure that many of the 
characteristics and traits which have endeared him in my memory are 
utterly different from the characteristics and traits which mean as much 
to them. 

I worked under his guidance for ten years, and in very close and 
intimate contact for the last four years. Never once have I seen him at 
a loss to make up his own mind on a knotty business problem ; never once 
have I seen him falter in the directness of his decision, and always have 
I felt the strong help of his assurance and confidence in what he was 
doing and in its successful outcome. I have seen him angry many times 
for just causes, and never once for any reason I was not entirely sym- 
pathetic with, both at the time and after. 

I think one of the strong impressions that he left with men who were 
not closely associated with him, but who knew him as a superior, was his 
unquestioned dignity of presence. I have heard men speak of it wonder- 
ingly as a very marked characteristic, which was different from that of 
other men. I have never been in a gathering where Mr. Griscom has 
not been the most distinguished figure and where others beside myself 
have not strongly felt it. 

Mr. Griscom had a marvelous memory, not for useless figures, but 
for minute details of events, discussions and intricacies of business, which 
is the kind of a memory that means a great deal in business, and is of 
tremendous importance to an executive. I have had the temerity many 
times to rely on my own memory in argument with him, but I think that 
never once when he has disputed a point have I found that he was wrong, 
in spite of the vast number of details that passed through his hands from 



320 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

day to day. He was in the habit of remembering promises of achieve- 
ment for the future in great detail, and was able to remember letters 
written by other people better than the authors. 

Mr. Griscom believed firmly that a young man should work his way 
up the ladder of success, and I know took great pride and satisfaction in 
his own early years in the shipping industry. He has related to me many 
of the details of his early life and his long hours of arduous work then. 
He liked to be surrounded by young men, and I feel that this was because 
he himself had so many of the undimmed attributes of youth 

In the many serious talks we have had together, one article of his 
code has remained strongly in my mind. Mr. Griscom was convinced 
that nothing was ever gained without being earned. The success of his 
company in the last few years seemed meteoric to casual observers, but 
he has frequently declared to me that the benefit being reaped now was 
plainly and conclusively the result of the years and years of effort which 
he had given to the business, and that every practical consideration indi- 
cated the complete verification of his theory that every gain must be 
paid for. R. C. J. 



"Behold, a King shall reign in righteousness, and princes shall rule 
in judgment. 

"And a man shall be as a hiding place from the ivind, and a co-rcrt 
from the tempest ; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a 
great rock in a weary land. 

"And the eyes of them that see shall not be dim, and the ears of them 
that hear shall hearken. 

"The heart also of the rash sliall understand knowledge, and the 
tongue of the stammerers shall be ready to speak plainly. 

"The vile person shall be no more called liberal, nor the churl said 
to be bountiful" 

He stood as a prince among us, great of heart and strong and clean ; 
and whether we willed it or not, looking first to him and then back to 
self and to the world, we carried with us new standards of magnanimity 
and truth, and found he ruled in judgment, not by what he said, but by 
what he was. 

What made him what he was? What made him a refuge in every 
storm of trouble, "as a hiding place from the wind, and a covert from 
the tempest," till all those, near and far, to whom his spirit reached in 
his ceaseless labour, came to count upon his faithful strength as surely 
and unthinkingly as we accept the solid earth on which we walk? "A< 
rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a wearv 
land," to come to him was always to come home ; to meet again eyes thn* 



CLEMENT ACTON GRISCOM 321 

saw and ears that heard, where the world was blind and deaf, and a voice 
that spoke our native speech from a heart that understood. 

What made him what he was? What was the secret of the con- 
tagion of his spirit, giving to others what he was himself ? From where 
did he draw the power that was his, as of an apostle of the inner world, 
to still the turmoil of material life and lift the veil of Maya from our 
eyes, so that we, too, saw and hearkened? By what magic did he give 
pause to the rashness of our hearts and open them to wisdom ? Whence 
came the confidence that caused our stammering tongues to be ready to 
speak so plainly, when we spoke to him? Why was it that his mere 
presence stripped away the falseness of our standards, so that we could 
no more call "liberal" what was only vile? Why does he stand in 
memory, real in a world of shadows, great of soul, and simple hearted as 
a child, pre-eminently a man? 

We know the answer. He told it to us every day. Yet in our love 
for him, in the loneliness his loss has brought, we still ask ourselves these 
questions, seeking, from the depth of our need, to find again through 
them the touch of certainty that was ours with him. And as we ask, 
reaching out in prayer for some message of hope and strength to the 
weakness of our hearts, there comes the echo of his Master's words, 
telling us again the simple secret of every great life's worth and gifts : 
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but 
what he seeth the Father do. . . . The words that I speak unto you 
I speak not of myself: but the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the 
works. . . . Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me. 
the works that I do shall he do also." 

Beneath each debt we owe to Mr. Griscom there lies this deepest 
debt of all. He did not testify of himself, but of the Father who sent 
him, showing us how truly and literally, "Every good gift and every 
perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, 
with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." Giving 'all 
in unfaltering fidelity to Theosophy, Theosophy gave all to him; its teach- 
ing guiding all he did, its spirit quickening all he touched, the living, 
indwelling, transforming power that made him what he was. 

He is no more beside us. But his memory still points our way, 
the enduring testimony to the fulness of stature of perfect manhood to 
which Theosophy leads all who follow it unswervingly to the end. In 
death as in life, from the land of the immortals, as when he walked beside 
us here on earth, he places in our outstretched hands and hearts this 
mighty secret of his proven faith. H. B. M. 



I have been reading what others have written of Clement Griscom. 
There is no word of over-praise. In fact I do not think his greatest 
victories have been touched upon. Yet, like every other human being, 



21 



322 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

he, of necessity, had his faults, his limitations. The difference between 
him and most other men was that throughout his manhood he made it 
his business to understand, to guard against, to control, to transform, even 
to make good use of his faults. And he owed this understanding and 
ability to his study of Theosophy. How indignant he would be if it 
were not said ! 

In later years, thanks to the wonderful use he had made of his study 
of Theosophy, he was able to make similar use and to derive increasing 
benefit from his membership in the religious Order to which he belonged. 
But perhaps the greatest achievement of his life was his original and 
instant acceptance of Theosophy, not only as true, but as the standard 
and rule of his behaviour. He found in it, not merely the solution of his 
problems, but the revelation of life itself as the supreme art, the supreme 
science. He was still a boy. But he had discovered already that life 
is not easy to live. He longed to know, to understand, the laws of life ; 
the laws that govern the action of those vast and complicated forces 
physical, emotional, mental, spiritual the interplay of which results in the 
events and trials and problems of daily living. His ceaseless effort to 
put his knowledge into practice and to obey the laws which Theosophy 
made clear to him, naturally resulted in closer and closer contact with 
the Master, Christ, whom he knew as his. But it was Theosophy which 
had opened the way to this recognition, because it was Theosophy which 
had convinced him that attainment is possible, and that the best means 
to that attainment is the right study and right performance of those daily 
duties which the world regards as commonplace but which he regarded 
as God-given opportunities. X. Y. Z. 



We seem to give him back to Thee, dear God, who gavest him to us. 
Yet as Thou didst not lose him in giving, so we have not lost him by his 
return. Not as the world giveth givest Thou, O Lover of Souls! What 
Thou givest Thou takest not away. For what is Thine is ours always, 
if we are Thine. And life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death 
is only an horizon; and an horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. 
Lift us up, strong Son of God, that we may see further; cleanse our eyes 
that we may see more clearly; draw us closer to Thyself that we may 
know ourselves nearer to our beloved who are with Thee. And while 
Thou dost prepare a place for us, prepare us for that happy place, that 
where they are, and Thou art, we too may be, through Jesus Christ our 
Lord. AN OLD PRAYER, BY AN UNKNOWN AUTHOR. 



REMINISCENCES 



ONE whose memory of The Theosophical Society goes back for 
thirty- four years, of necessity recalls many deaths, and, unhappily, 
many defections. On no less than three occasions during this 
more than a third of a century, The Theosophical Society, 
through causes of its own making, lost by defection more than half it's 
members: the period, if you wish, of "spiritual selection," followed by 
the period of reconstruction. 

Of the deaths in this long cycle, two stand out most prominently : 
the death of Mme. Blavatsky and the death of W. Q. Judge. With 
these, in a certain sense, one must class the death of Clement A. Griscom. 

I knew Mme. Blavatsky for four years before her death, in that 
period when, after the great convulsion of 1884-5, she began the painful 
work of rebuilding the spiritual life of The Theosophical Society. There 
had been wholesale desertions ; but the real difficulty, the heart-breaking 
difficulty was the moral defection of some of those on whom she most 
counted, who had worked with her from the beginning, a moral defection 
only the more dangerous, because they still continued to work with her 
outwardly, though filled with inner suspicion and distrust. It required, 
in her, heroic courage and faith, to build once more, on deeper founda- 
tions, the fabric that had been so dangerously shaken. This was the 
period of The Secret Doctrine, The Voice of the Silence and the great 
editorials in Lucifer. It was also the period of a concentrated and pro- 
foundly difficult effort to train disciples, an effort which, unfortunately, 
was an almost total failure. For of the group of students whom Mme. 
Blavatsky began to gather around her in England in 1887 and 1888, only 
one, Archibald Keightley, is still on the firing line. He was, in a sense, 
the beloved disciple, the one completely trusted. 

Of the nearly complete failure of this group, and of the effort to 
form it, Mme. Blavatsky was fully conscious before her death. That 
was, I think, one of the things which made her very willing to die. 

But there was success in another quarter, which really meant the 
salvation of the movement. I had a long talk with Mme. Blavatsky two 
or three days before her death. She spoke, among other things, of 
W. Q. Judge, and I received the fullest assurance of his spiritual standing 
and his place in the work ; and, immediately after her death, this was 
completely corroborated. 

Mr. Judge had been with her from the beginning, in the days when 
The Theosophical Society was founded, in New York, in 1874. But for 
ten years his work had been largely interior, dealing with his own develop- 
ment and preparation. And it was only with the founding of The 
Path, in 1885, that he entered on the more active cycle of his work 
at the time when Mme. Blavatsky finally left India. 



324 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

It was shortly after this that Clement Griscom joined The Theo- 
sophical Society, at once becoming one of a small group closely identified 
with Mr. Judge's work, completely trusting him and completely trusted 
by him. Of this group, too, as of those who were gathered round Mme. 
Blavatsky in London, later defection was the future destiny of almost 
all; and here is the first cardinal fact in Clement Griscom's history: 
faithful in the beginning, he remained faithful to the end : "Be ye 
faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life." 

The inherent dangers of the situation which Mme. Blavatsky had left 
in London, the suspicions and treacheries inherent in the earlier group 
who had worked with her in India, began to manifest themselves within 
a year or two after her death. The centre of infection was Adyar ; but 
that infection found fertile soil elsewhere, in London and in America. 
And the last three years of Mr. Judge's life were occupied with a life- 
and-death struggle for the vital Theosophical principles, of which, by 
Mme. Blavatsky's death, he had become the chief custodian. 

Among the men who had gathered about Mr. Judge in New York, 
in the years following 1885, three conspicuously aided him in that life- 
and-death struggle. Of these, Clement Griscom was one. And once 
more it must be said that, of the three, he alone remained faithful to the 
end. 

I met Mr. Griscom in London about ihe time when this second con- 
flict developed, after the death of Mme. Blavatsky, but while Mr. Judge, 
whom I had known earlier in London, was still alive. So that our 
friendship goes back more than a quarter of a century. 

Of Mr. Griscom's part in the conflict which raged about Mr. Judge, 
from 1893 to 1895, others, who were then in New York, are better 
qualified to write than I am; as also of the first months of transition 
which followed Mr. Judge's death, early in 18%. It was late in that 
year that I came to this country ; Clement Griscom did much to facilitate 
my coming, in that kind and gentle way which was so deeply characteristic 
of him ; and from that time forward, his friendship was among my most 
precious possessions. 

Dangerous and difficult months followed, new convulsions and new 
defections from the true spirit of the Movement were already making 
themselves manifest, in a series of events which, like the earlier and 
perhaps even more dangerous convulsions, are only a tradition to the 
great majority of those who make up The Theosophical Society today. 
But they were momentous realities to those who passed through them, 
soul-searching realities, and very grave dangers. The fact that they 
are intimately known to so few, is, in a sense, the measure of Clement 
Griscom's work: he was one of the few who remained wholly faithful 
and loyal, in principle and in act, throughout that long and bitter contest : 
and was, of those few, the man who was most active, most effective, most 
devoted and ardent, in the slow and painful years of rebuilding that fol- 
lowed the conflict. The fact that so many members of The Theosophical 



REMINISCENCES 325 

Society know these events even as a dim tradition, they owe in large 
measure to Clement Griscom ; for that there is today a Theosophical 
Society, true to the high spiritual purpose which originated it, and able 
to hand down this and other traditions, is in large measure due to him, 
while his devoted and effective work with W. Q. Judge, his own power, 
and the supremely wise guidance which he ceaselessly followed, gave him 
the power to do this. 

I think that members of the present day, in the period of strong and 
enthusiastic Annual Conventions, of abundant and able magazine articles, 
of regular meetings and thoughtful studies, do not at all realize the difficult 
and barren years which followed the last cycle's convulsion of The 
Theosophical Society, which came to a head at the Chicago Convention, 
in the summer of 1898. There are not many members now in The 
Theosophical Society who can tell the full story of that decisive Conven- 
tion, and who can tell of Clement Griscom's part in it. From the action 
then taken, in which Clement Griscom played a leading part, is due, 
under divine power, the whole future development of The Theosophical 
Society, nay, the fact that The Theosophical Society is in existence. 

I have spoken of the lean years that followed. How many members 
realize that, for long months and years, there were no meetings, no active 
branches, no such publications as they have grown accustomed to, and 
which seem to them part of the inevitable order of life ? The first stirring 
of new life, the first outer expression of the vital principles of The 
Theosophical Society that had been saved amid great danger at the 
Chicago Convention, was due once more to Clement Griscom. It was the 
publication of a tiny periodical, slim, insignificant looking, without a 
cover, bearing the name The Forum, the revival of a leaflet of questions 
and answers, which had come into being in Mr. Judge's day. Mr. 
Griscom gathered the material for the first number, arranged for its 
printing, meeting (as he so often did) the cost of its production, and 
organized its distribution. That was the first corporate act of The 
Theosophical Society, after the convulsion from which it had been barely 
saved saved, as has been recorded, in large measure by Clement Griscom. 

The Forum continued for several years. Then, when it became 
evident that the now reviving and expanding activities of The Theosophi- 
cal Society required a larger organ, an organ, too, of somewhat different 
character, Clement Griscom once more took the initiative, establishing 
THE THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY, now in its sixteenth volume so remote 
already are the lean years of which I have spoken, the days of small 
things, which made our opportunity. Here once again, Clement Griscom 
not only initiated THE THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY, edited it, largely con- 
tributed to it, and read all proof, but advanced money for the cost, for 
several years, holding himself always a trustee for the spiritual powers, 
and considering everything he possessed as belonging to these powers, to 
be used for their purposes, and not in any sense his own. 

But before THE THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY came into being, other 



326 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

activities had come back painfully to life. Members of today, who are 
so accustomed to "Annual Conventions," who will take part, in a few 
days, in an Annual Convention, the outstanding fact of which will be 
Cement Griscom's absence, do not know, perhaps, that, for some years 
after 1898, no public Conventions were held, for the simple fact that 
The Theosophical Society had not gathered strength to hold them. It 
was too weakened in numbers and in force to find this outward expres- 
sion of its life. Once more it is to be recorded that Clement Griscom, in 
the years of slow and painful reconstruction, saw that the time had 
come to revive this form of Theosophical activity; once again, it was 
he who did the main work of organization for that Convention. Yet 
even earlier, leading up to this first Convention and making it possible, 
public meetings had been begun once more in New York: at the Mott 
Memorial Hall, in Madison Avenue, which held revered memories of 
the early days of Mr. Judge's public work. Mr. Griscom took a leading 
part in the revival of these meetings ; and, painful as it always was for 
him to speak in public (a life-long sacrifice which only his closest friends 
realized), spoke frequently, and spoke always with inspiration and the 
simple directness of a noble heart. 

Of Clement Griscom's work in the years that followed, there are 
many witnesses who can give convincing testimony, telling what they 
owe to his initiative, his force, his counsel, his wonderful qualities. I have 
thought it better to speak instead of the long-past, dangerous days, which 
are remembered by so few. Nor shall I try to sum up Clement Griscom's 
services; they are known best to the Great Power that has stood, an 
eternal rock, behind The Theosophical Society since its foundation ; that, 
ages since, prepared that foundation. 

"As He pronounces lastly on each deed 
Of so much praise in Heaven expect thy mead." 

There remains but one thing that should be said : Through the long 
and arduous years of his great and fruitful labours, Clement Griscom 
always had, close at hand, the purest, highest and divinest inspiration; 
he always had the wisdom of the heart to accept and follow it. 

CHARLES JOHNSTON. 



THE MAGIC WORD DEMOCRACY 



THERE is an unreasoning prejudice at the present time against 
Kings and against names describing certain types of government. 
Please note that the prejudice is against the name not the thing 
itself, and that is why it is prejudice. We Americans inherit a 
dislike for Kings because of the way one of them treated us back in the 
1760's and 1770's, but surely that is not going to colour our views and 
distort our understanding of political science forever. We read about 
the much-to-be desired downfall of the last of the monarchies, and as 
likely as not the writer lives in a town in the Middle West which has 
thrown its mayor and aldermen into the dust heap and has adopted an 
up-to-date government by a City Manager; which is a pure Monarchy. 
A Congressman shouts some scornful diatribe against the effete aristoc- 
racies of Europe, and he prides himself upon his home town progres- 
siveness in adopting the Commission form of government. He would 
be horrified to discover that it complies with Aristotle's definition of an 
oligarchy or aristocracy. The simple truth is that we have in this huge 
republic of ours, every kind of government in the pure form, as well as 
an inconceivable variety of combinations of the several kinds. Or rather 
we probably do not have any really pure democratic form, unless perhaps 
in some very small rural community where a considerable number of the 
actual inhabitants exercise parts of the functions of government. 

The form of government does not matter. You can have, you do 
have, you always have had, you always will have, good, bad, and indiffer- 
ent governments of each of the several types. Whether a government 
is good or bad does not depend upon its form; it depends upon the 
honesty, benevolence and intelligence of those exercising the functions 
of government. The Democracy of Rome was one of the most powerful 
military despotisms in history, relatively much more powerful and domi- 
nating than the present German military autocracy, though not more so 
than the Germans want to be. 

When all the world shows a marked tendency to travel in a given 
direction, or to proclaim a certain truth, it is time for the philosopher 
to pause and reflect. This is particularly true when we deal with any- 
thing so intangible as a political theory, for even in Science, fashions 
run to extremes. The intellectual world has not yet recovered from the 
excessive swing of the Darwinian-evolutionary-anti-religious move- 
ment of the last century. There are people who still talk about the con- 
flict between Religion and Science, as if the lack of sympathy between 
some of the exponents of those activities were inevitable and necessary. 
The present tendency to exalt Democracy is a case in point. Democ- 
racy is a very real, and a very good thing; but it is not most of the 



3*7 



328 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

things called by its name in these rather hectic days. There is a great 
deal of confused thinking about it ; or perhaps it would be more accurate 
to say that there is a great deal of writing and speaking and not a little 
shouting, which shows a marked absence of thinking. The fundamental 
trouble is that the word Democracy (I confess, as I write it, that I 
feel as if it were sacrosanct), this almost sacred word, is used to describe 
two utterly different things. One is its correct use as a form of 
government. The other is an incorrect use which it is not easy to define, 
for it is more a spirit, or a feeling, or a tendency that really has nothing 
to do with forms of government. 

Governing men is a problem thousands, and possibly millions, of 
years old. Twenty-three centuries ago Aristotle classified and defined 
the recognized forms of Government and his classification is still generally 
accepted, despite our boast that everything is new ! His definitions were 
based on two simple principles : Whether the governing power seeks its 
own good, or the good of the whole state ; and whether the governing 
power is one man, or a few men, or many men. 

GOVERNMENT GOOD FORM BAD FORM 

By one Monarchy Tyranny 

By a few in 

comparison with Aristocracy Oligarchy 

the whole 

By a large number 

in comparison with Commonwealth Democracy 

the whole 

For some generations past the people of the western world have 
shown a marked tendency to free themselves from certain governmental 
trammels. This was a revolt against the abuses of the other governments ; 
but in the progress of time, this revolt became confused in people's minds 
with the forms of governments themselves, because the abuses were 
associated with the forms. This confusion is very widespread, very 
fundamental, has colored the writings of all but the sanest of our political 
scientists, and is responsible for most of the nonsense now being spoken 
and written about Democracy. 

The second general confusion we note is in connection with the 
source of the power exercised by the Government, whatever be its form. 
It has not been generally understood, and is not now generally under- 
stood, that the source of power always has been, is now, and must always 
be the people. The worst tyrant, or most powerful monarch who ever 
lived, could only reign with the consent of those he governed. Books 
have been written about the divine right of Kings, but that again is a 
confusion. The greatest of all kings, and the most authentically divinely 



THE MAGIC WORD DEMOCRACY 329 

appointed, had no secular power, because the people to whom He was 
sent refused to accept Him. A Divine Being may appoint Kings to rule 
over nations, but if so, He does not and never has interfered with the 
freedom of the people to accept or reject such Kings, as they see fit. 

The point is, that the power exercised by the Government, whatever 
its form, springs from those governed, and may be withdrawn by them 
whenever a sufficient number of them choose. Whether it ought to be or 
not, is another question. The government of the late Czar crumpled 
like a house of cards as soon as a sufficient number of Russians no longer 
wanted the Czar to have the power. He and Charles I, may have had 
mandates from God which the people ought to have recognized and 
obeyed, but even if this had been so, the power exercised by these mon- 
archs would still have come from their subjects and was withdrawable 
at will. 

There is not a sin which any government has committed, which all 
governments have not also committed ; nor are certain forms of govern- 
ment more given to sin than others. Nothing could have been more 
caste ridden, exclusive, and aristocratic than the democracies of Greece; 
and if you want illustrations of the concentrated essence of all that is 
evil in Government, you need not look further afield than to some of the 
Central and South American republics of the present day. 

It is curious that we do not ordinarily apply to government what 
our everyday experience teaches us. Everyone knows the amount of 
time and energy wasted in getting anything done when a committee is in 
charge, yet in our governments we appoint committees, in despair, in 
order to get anything done at all. The Committee, after fruitless efforts 
to accomplish the given task, usually appoints one of its number to go 
ahead and do the thing, and this he is usually able to do in some fashion 
or other and without too much delay. We know, all of us, that when a 
difficult and quick piece of work is to be done, It is a one man job. But 
we have such profound distrust of each other, that we are only willing 
to give one man power in an emergency, or because experience has proved 
that it is the only way, or because there is a special hurry, or a danger. 

This is particularly true of national governments. We try to split 
up the power, and spread it out over as many people as possible in ordi- 
nary times ; and we usually overdo it, so that there is constant complaint 
of the unwieldy size of Congress, or of the number of commissions con- 
trolling our public utilities, or of the multitude of departments or officials 
with which we must do business. Then an emergency comes, and we 
reverse all this. There is greater and greater concentration of power. 
The people cheerfully relinquish their cherished "rights"; the politician 
reluctantly gives up his hold on public affairs ; and the executives, as they 
show their capacity, rapidly assume and wield the full powers of an 
absolute autocrat. That is the prevalent form of government at the 
present day. Great Britain is governed by an autocratic and only partially 
aristocratic oligarchy ; Germany by military autocrats ; Russia by an auto- 



330 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

cratic and amorphous tyranny, which is rigidly exclusive and caste 
ridden, in that it will not permit the rich and the cultured to have any 
voice in public affairs ; America is nearer monarchical in form than any 
of the larger nations. France has been halted in its progress toward 
autocracy by an oligarchy of corrupt and unpatriotic politicians who have 
as yet refused to surrender power.* 

My point, however, is that the form of government has little to do 
with the excellence of government, and not much to do with the efficiency 
of government. The most efficient government is probably the German 
military autocracy, not because it is a military autocracy, but because 
the greatest amount of intelligence and pains have been taken to make it 
efficient. The most excellent government is probably that of Great Brit- 
ain monarchical in form ; democratic in spirit ; oligarchical in fact. It is 
rapidly becoming also one of the most efficient, not because of its form, 
but because of the immense concentration of the nation's best intelligence 
on the problems of government during the last three years. 

It is of course easier for a government where power is highly con- 
centrated to bring about efficiency. Whether it will also be a good govern- 
ment depends upon the character of the governing class. They may use 
their power to enrich themselves by illegitimate means, as they have done 
in France and in many other countries. 

The object of government is to assure each individual as much free- 
dom to follow his own will as is compatible with a like freedom to all 
other individuals. The government no matter what its form must 
have whatever power is required to accomplish this object. When the 
wants of men were simple, government was simple. A chief, with a 
club, sufficed for a tribe of savages. When civilization became com- 
plicated, the necessary functions of government increased proportionately. 
Efforts have been made by many writers on political science to set limits 
to the legitimate functions of government. Herbert Spencer thought we 
had already gone too far. Socialists think we have not yet gone far 
enough. Both miss the point. The point is that the amount of govern- 
ment, and in considerable measure, the kind of government, follow the 
law of supply and demand. It is not a perfectly balanced law and it does 
not operate instantaneously, any more than it does in economics. It is 
merely a general law which none the less surely brings about the inevitable 
results in the progress of time. This, so far as I know, has never been 
pointed out by any writer on political science, and, therefore, can bear 
some elaboration. 

People, in the long run, get, and must get, else they perish, the 
amount and kind of government they need ; need, please note, not want ; 
and they do not get any more than is necessary, for every stage forward 
in government means a still greater curtailment of individual freedom. 
The savage could not survive the restrictions our present government 

Mr. Griscom wrote this article in 1917, before Clemenceau had come into power, and 
before the upheaval in Germany. 



THE MAGIC WORD DEMOCRACY 331 

would force upon him ; and the Russian is dying in large numbers because 
a lot of his restrictions have recently been removed. He will go on dying in 
larger and larger numbers until he is chained up again by the amount 
of government he needs at his present stage of civilization. It does not 
matter what form that new government will take ; what matters vitally is 
that there shall be enough of it. Arguing from precedent, the form is 
likely to be some kind of dictatorship, backed by the requisite military 
power, which later on will be gradually modified by a decentralization of 
power. The final outcome is likely to be a moderate, but only a moderate, 
advance towards democratic forms, if we contrast the outcome with the 
government of the late Czar. That is what the Russian people demand. 
I do not mean vocal demands, for they do not yet realize their needs. I 
mean the actual demand made by the aggregate of their characters, 
capacities, limitations, weaknesses, strengths, vices, virtues, and so on. 
That kind of people, who have reached that stage of development, need 
a certain amount of government, and they must get it, or perish. What 
other people, living at the same time, in other countries need, is no cri- 
terion for them. This unfortunately is not generally understood, although 
it is sufficiently obvious. There are no rules to determine what is the 
proper amount of government to give any particular people at any given 
time. Those who are wise and experienced in such matters, and that 
means a very small number of persons indeed, can give a fairly good 
guess, and then discover their mistake by experiment. England has 
shown special genius for doing this successfully, because, among other 
things, she has no fixed theories. She controls Canada by not governing 
it at all, and she governs thousands of African savages by benevolent 
tyrannies of the most absolute type. She manages her great empire by 
using all the different forms of government, and by the greatest variety 
in the extent of control. Germany is a conspicuously unsuccessful 
colonizer because she has fixed theories on the subject and tries to apply 
those theories. As they are patterned upon the kind and amount of 
government required by the German people, and as, fortunately, most of 
the people in the world are unlike the German people, the theories do 
not work. 

The operation of the law of supply and demand in government bears 
a still closer analogy to the operation of the law in economics. People 
do not get the government they need, until the realization of their need 
creates a demand. It is, at all times, demand, not need, which produces 
the supply. Furthermore, people do not get what they want merely by 
demanding it ; they have to back their demand by power, and that power 
they get by work. It is a product of effort. So in government. We must 
earn the privilege of a better and more efficient government by work, by 
effort. It cannot be legislated into being. The French tried that in the 
early days of the Revolution. They made Constitution after Constitution, 
and none of them worked. The Russians have been trying it for a year. 
They got what they thought they wanted, but not what they needed. 



332 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

No constitution will work until it expresses the character and genius of 
the people. The French Constitution of the last forty years has not 
been suited to the real genius of the French people, and therefore has 
never worked well, and will continue to work badly until changed. The 
law of supply and demand in governments is not an instantaneous law, 
and it takes time to bring about readjustments, but come they will and 
must ; just as a scarcity in some article of commerce will increase prices 
until the usual channels and barriers of trade are broken down and the 
supply flows in. 

In view of all this, what does the President mean when he says that 
the world must be made safe for Democracy? What is the new god 
which the modern world worships so passionately ; for which men cheer- 
fully lay down their lives ; which has become the ideal of our twentieth 
century civilization? People get enthusiastic about Democracy who have 
never been enthusiastic about anything in their lives before. Their eyes 
glow and their hearts beat faster over what? The Russian Revolution 
was hailed as the greatest event since I do not know when ; some people 
have said, since the time of Christ. Why? What magic is there in this 
word, this name for one of the forms of government? It is certainly a 
curious fact that many persons would rather have a pro-German tyranny, 
named Democracy, in Russia, than a pro-Ally government under a Czar. 

A democratic form of government is certainly a good thing for the 
people who are fitted for it, and it would be a bad thing for the people 
shall we venture to say like the Russians or the Filipinos, who are not 
fitted for it. I do not know whether the Russians are fitted for it or not. 
It certainly does not look as if they were. I feel pretty confident that 
the Filipinos are not. Both questions will doubtless be resolved by expe- 
rience, for the tendency is to thrust this form of government upon them. 
But why the heat, the almost religious fervour with which the matter is 
proposed? If the Russians are fit for democracy, they will get it, 
and all will be well. If they are not fit for it, they will not get it, or, 
if it is thrust upon them, it will not work, and will cause them untold 
misery. In due time they will emerge from the resulting chaos, consider- 
ably reduced in numbers, somewhat, but not much, chastened by expe- 
rience, for we learn such lessons slowly ; and again this ever fresh and 
unwearied world will go on with its appointed task, which, among other 
things, is the progress and development of the Russian people. But why 
the passion ; why this new religion ? Surely no one thinks anything so 
crude as that a change in the form of the Russian Government is going 
to change the character of the Russian people ! Does anyone really 
believe that suppressing the Kaiser and what he stands for, will reform 
or redeem the German people? Does a bad man become a good man 
when given the vote? Will the bribe taker of old Russia suddenly become 
honest, because he has a representative at Petrograd ? The late Russian 
government was corrupt, oppressive and inefficient, because it was run 
by corrupt, oppressive and inefficient men, not because the form of govern- 



THE MAGIC WORD DEMOCRACY 333 

ment was an autocracy. If those men had been honest, kind and efficient, 
Russia would have been well governed. Nor does a democracy tend to 
get the honest, kind and efficient men into public office. On the contrary. 
It is a well recognized defect of the democratic form of government that 
the best element in the population will not run for office. 

The most efficient government France has had for a thousand years 
was the autocracy of Napoleon. His standards and methods are still the 
rule in the best managed French departments. In the hundred years 
which have passed since then, France has tried six or seven different 
kinds of government. They were all equally bad because those exercising 
the powers of government were not honest, benevolent and intelligent. 
We are extremely democratic in New York, yet our city government is 
nearly always one of the worst in the world because it is carried on by 
creatures of Tammany Hall, a corrupt, political organization. Its form 
of Government, as a matter of fact, is that of a limited monarchy, with a 
mayor as king, with very limited powers; a legislative body called the 
Aldermanic Council ; and a special body controlling supplies, called the 
Board of Estimate and Apportionment. 

What do people mean when they talk about Democracy? What 
does the newspaper mean when it reports the abrogation of constitutional 
rights and the concentration of power in some one man's hands, and calls 
this "a triumph of Democracy" ? Why was it not a failure of Democracy ? 

When Congress steps aside and lets the President, through Cabinet 
Officers and quasi-legal War Committees, wield all the powers usually 
wielded by the several branches of the government; when they confer 
upon this one man, power that has not been equalled since the days of 
Napoleon, what are we to think? I am heartily in favor of it as a 
national necessity, but it is the absolute antithesis of everything that is 
democratic. It means that democracy has broken down under the stress 
of war, and that temporarily we had to go back to autocracy, to abso- 
lutism. It is an old story. Rome had to do it repeatedly in the great 
crises of her history. Democracy is a fair weather friend, which always 
fails in an emergency. 

Is it possible that when we talk, and particularly when we shout, 
about Democracy, we are really not talking about Democracy, but about 
something else? It has to do with forms of government, for the people 
who have the word oftenest upon their lips are constantly talking about 
or against kings and aristocracies. 

So far as I have been able to grasp and define this illusive conception, 
I believe that something akin to the Brotherhood of Man is what we 
are really feeling after ; an ideal which stirs our innate religious instincts 
and which justifies our passion. When we add the Fatherhood of God 
idea to the Brotherhood of Man idea, our conception will be complete. 
But why call it Democracy ? 

Leaving out, then, the confusion about forms of government, and 
the second confusion between the form of government and the quality 



334 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

of Government, and the third confusion about the source of power, which, 
we repeat, is always in the people whether the power be exercised by a 
King or an autocrat like President Wilson, or an autocracy or oligarchy, 
like the War Cabinet of Great Britain, or a more democratic government 
like that of Italy leaving these several confusions aside for the moment, 
what else do we mean by Democracy for which the world must be made 
safe? 

When some people speak about the democratic spirit, I understand 
what they mean. They mean greater licence to do what they want, 
without being interfered with by the government. When a workman 
speaks of democracy, he means a state where labor will come into its 
own ; that is, where he will be on top, and capital underneath. When an 
American farmer speaks of democracy, he usually means something 
rather vague about freedom which his forefathers fought for. When a 
Russian farmer speaks about democracy, he means getting someone 
else's land for nothing. When our politicians speak about democracy, they 
mean a magic word which gets votes and gains applause. When our 
editorial writers speak about democracy, half of them do not know what 
they mean ; and they ought to be ashamed of themselves. 

Democracy, if it means anything, means a decentralization of power, 
which, highly concentrated in a monarchy, is somewhat spread out in an 
oligarchy or aristocracy, and is still more distributed as we go down the 
scale, or up the scale, if you prefer. In a democracy, the powers of gov- 
ernment are wielded by a great many persons. If we carry the matter 
to an extreme, to a reductio ad absurdum, we have what is called philo- 
sophical anarchy, where everyone exercises the functions of government, 
or, to put the same thing in another way, where there is no government 
at all. Socialism does not come into this category. Socialism is not a 
question of form of government, it is a question of the amount of 
government. There is much confused thinking at this point. You can 
have socialism under any form of government. There has been a con- 
siderable amount of socialistic legislation in the German military autocracy 
in recent decades. There has been much in the monarchical government 
of England. There has been less here in democratic America. Great 
difference of opinion exists about the part the Government should play 
in human affairs ; about the amount of Government there should be. The 
only safe rule to lay down is that there is no final answer to this question ; 
there is no Governmental panacea for the ills and inequalities of human 
life; what is best will vary with time, place, circumstance, and with the 
Duality and character of the people concerned. If you believe in the 
Government ownership of the means of production and distribution you 
are a Socialist, but you can also believe quite logically and rationally 
that a monarchical form of Government, as in England, would best admin- 
ister the property and business of the Socialist state. Or you may 
believe, though I confess this does not appear logical and rational, that a 



THE MAGIC WORD DEMOCRACY 335 

rigid caste tyranny like the Bolsheviki in Russia, can achieve the best 
results. These are matters of opinion. 

There is still another phase of this subject, another confusion. Just 
as, in the past, people associated the abuses of government with the form 
of government, so now I think many people associate the so-called bless- 
ings of our modern civilization with Democracy : the spread of education, 
advancement of science and industry, newspapers, improved means of 
communication, a better or juster opportunity for the working man, the 
suppression of slavery, etc., etc. Democracy stands for these things in 
their minds, and as they value them highly, the value carries over to the 
Democracy which they associate with them. Such people forget that 
these things have nothing to do with Democracy. Most of them were 
started and developed under monarchies or autocracies. Democratic 
America was the last big nation to suppress slavery. Autocratic Germany 
is still the best educated or at least, education such as it is, is most 
widely diffused. Laws specially favoring the workingman, as a rule, 
have not originated, though many of them have been copied, in America. 
The working man has had a better chance to get rich in this country 
during recent decades, than in most other places, but that was because of 
economic conditions and had nothing to do with political forms. 

I am unable to think of any special advantage we Americans possess 
which can justly be attributed to our Democratic institutions. I am unable 
to think of any special advantages we possess, which would not have been 
equally possible under some other form of Government. Canada seems 
pretty well off. Her people are no less free. Their opportunity for life, 
liberty and the pursuit of happiness would appear to be equal to ours. 

What then is it all about ? Let us be philosophical enough to pause 
and reflect, even if by so doing we are unable to share the current 
enthusiasm. Let us keep sane and balanced minds and be not afraid to 
face the facts of history and the truisms of political science. Let us put 
Democracy in its rightful place as a form of Government, and resolutely 
refuse to add it to the rapidly growing number of new religions. 

CLEMENT A. GRISCOM. 



LETTERS TO FRIENDS 



DEAR FRIEND: 

I AM more than sorry, but it cannot be. I would come to you at once 
were it right to do so ; for you loved and love him as I love him, and 
now that every hour cries out that he is not here to share it with me, 

and that I can take nothing from the day to him, the physical pres- 
ence of those who were close to him would be no small comfort. But as 
things are, neither of us is free to leave our place and tasks to seek 
the hours together that we crave. We have no longer the great rock of 
his faithful strength on which to lay our burdens while we pause for 
breath, and so we dare not pause, or slacken. Somehow, for his sake, as 
for the work's and the Master's own, we must find the grace and resolu- 
tion to do more, not less, than we have ever done before. To fulfil the 
trust imposed in us is now the one thing our love can do for him ; to carry 
on all that was his, all that was his and ours together because it was and 
is the Master's ; to answer from some deeper level of our life the call he 
followed to the death, that what we lose in him may be made good in 
power to the work for which he died 

I have never felt so inadequate and impotent, facing life thus, shorn 
of half myself. The simplest, most familiar things now present new and 
unsuspected difficulties. It is as though, when I took up this pad to 
write to you and reached with my other hand for my pencil, I found I 
had no other hand that nothing moved, only a sudden pain in the empty 
sleeve through which the nerves should run, and I stand for a moment, 
puzzling dumbly what is wrong, till the tears in my eyes rouse me to the 
truth, and I seek a place on which to rest the pad that I may hold the 
pencil. I am a very baby in his loss. Like a baby I have to learn all 
over again to do alone the myriad things that through all these years I 
have done with him. Here, in my own rooms, there is scarce a book 
upon my shelves or picture on the walls that does not speak to me of 
him. And inwardly it is the same. There is no hope or memory in 
which he has not part. Life after life he has been my comrade. In that 
far distant past when the Master called and waked me, he was there. 
And now, like a child left in the dark, I miss his human presence the 
comradeship that is the birthright and blood-tie of my soul, and which is 
no longer mine as man. 

But however impotent we may feel, the call is clear. Duty does not 
come without the ability to fulfil it, and the Master does not ask from 
tts what he has not given to us. As more is asked, we know surely that 
more has been given ; and it is for us to find that more, and use it. Or 
rather, since the Master's gifts are never hidden, and there can be no 
search for what is so agonizingly ours in every fibre of our being, it but 
remains to use it. We have only our pain, where till now we have had a 

33* 



LETTERS TO FRIENDS 337 

friend, in a companionship so close and dear as to make all labour sweet ; 
and therefore from our very pain must come the new strength that we 
need. We have no longer the shield of his love. But we have its sword 
in a new way. In his loss it has pierced to the depths of our souls, and 
through the open wound, from those unknown depths which suffering 
alone can reach, must come our power. On Calvary, the Master placed 
his spirit for all who seek it; and from there, you and I must draw his 
power with which to do his will and work. 

I have been thinking much of these things through the past weeks, 
and little by little they have been growing clearer to me. There was need 
that they should grow clearer ; and as we ourselves learn their lessons we 
shall have to help others to learn them too. The mystery of pain will 
never be resolved by words. Only as we enter through its portals can we 
know to what its long, vast corridors may lead. But you and I are only 
two of the many hundreds who loved him, whom he helped over some 
steep place in their search for the disciple's path, and who now suffer in 
his loss. There is no man or woman to whom grief and pain do not 
come, none who does not enter where understanding is possible. And yet 
so few do understand. 

What you write is true. To speak of the "shadow of death" is like 
speaking of the shadow of the sun. Death is light, such clear, white light 
as that by which the Master sees, so that, for a moment before it blinds 
us, we share something of his vision, and see that the only shadow is the 
shadow cast by self ; that everything sought and gained for self was lost ; 
and everything surrendered is found and kept. It was easy to say, "I will 
not be ambitious"; and when success or failure must alike seem lonely, 
ambition is mere mockery. But no man, on whom the light of death has 
fallen, can think, "When the Master reads my heart, he will find it clean 
utterly." 

These things are true. And it is well, perhaps, to say them, as it is 
surely well to hold them fast in memory, that we may try harder, more 
unremittingly and humbly, and with clearer consciousness of its meaning, 
to "Live neither in the present nor the future, but in the eternal," in the 
light of the eternal that shines from the face of death, where we know 
that we "Desire possessions above all ; but those possessions must belong 
to the pure soul only, and be possessed therefore by all pure souls equally, 
and thus be the special property of the whole only when united." Yet it 
is not of these things that I most wish you would now write, as you tell 
me you are thinking of doing. These lessons of grief's teaching, life 
itself brings home to every good man and every religious man, to every 
one who loves anything at all but self. They may be forgotten, but they 
cannot be escaped. And it is in part because of this, because grief can- 
not come without bringing this light that shows us our selfishness and 
sin, that, looking to them, and in the anguish of our self-reproach, too 
many of us miss the deeper lesson of grief's existence and reality the 
meaning to man's spirit of the immutable fact of pain and loss and anguish 

22 



338 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

as inherent in the nature of being itself. It is this that I wish you could 
make plain. 

It is a wholly wrong idea of grief to think of it only as the conse- 
quence of blindness or the punishment of sin ; as though, had we but been 
good enough, all would have been smooth and comfortable ; as though a 
living faith, and some true knowledge of the soul's life, should lift men 
above the common, human trials and griefs, make suffering but a mirage, 
and the loss and loneliness of death unreal. It involves, too, a wholly 
wrong conception of life and growth and the nature of the soul's con- 
sciousness. Yet we find, all about us, this tacit assumption that the good 
man and the religious man, above all, perhaps, the occultist who has laid 
hold upon the real, should thereby have his heart anaesthetized to pain. 
Few who call themselves Christians realize that Christianity would bring 
them to the agony of the Cross. Few who seek the pathway to the real 
are conscious that it must lead them more deeply into all of life, and not 
away from any of its tragedy and sorrow. How can those find and rec- 
ognize the path who have so false a picture of it? Or how can those 
follow it who cling, even if unknowingly, to so opposite a desire? 

Can you not help them to understand that the passion of Christ was 
real? To read, and take to themselves, the lesson that all of history 
teaches, that the noblest suffer most, "the bravest are the tenderest," that 
to grow in spiritual power is to grow in capacity for pain ? To face the 
fact that pain is real and must endure, increasing not diminishing, that 
nowhere and never can it be escaped or left behind, is what men most 
need today; and they would understand this if they understood Christ's 
passion. But they do not understand. Beneath the surface of their 
thought, rarely recognized yet colouring their vision, is the feeling that 
in some way the passion was but an appearance, a pretence; that, being 
God, Christ could not suffer as does man. It is a strange assumption. 
It is so obviously not the dead flesh that suffers, but only the flesh 
quickened by the spirit of life. The more we have of life, the more we 
must suffer. And God is life. Because Christ was one with God, 
because the incarnation of the spirit had penetrated and quickened every 
atom of his flesh, the mere physical pain of the crucifixion was intensified 
a myriad times beyond that which we could know as we are now. Are 
we then to think that we shall escape pain as we follow him along the 
path he travelled ; or that the gift he came to give us, the gift of life in 
greater abundance, will bring insensibility? 

Pain of the flesh, pain of the heart, pain of the spirit ! "When Jesus 
therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with 
her, he groaned in the spirit and was troubled, and said, Where have ye 
laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept." 
There was no pretence in those tears. They were not less painful or less 
human than are yours and mine, though in them was the knowledge and 
the power to comfort the heart he loved, and to call his servant from the 
corruption of the grave. No words could be more convincing than is the 



LETTERS TO FRIENDS 339 

simple gospel narrative, if men would but read and meditate upon it. 
And if we would foresee the path our feet must tread, to find and follow 
him we call our Lord, there it lies before us: the agony in the garden, 
the anguish of his prayer, the lonely craving for companionship that woke, 
in vain, his sleeping friends ; and, at the end, in the darkness of the ninth 
hour, the utter desolation of that final cry, "My God, my God, why hast 
thou forsaken me?" 

Of those who read your writings, and whom you perhaps influence 
more than you know, there are many who call themselves Christians. 
Lead them to meditate upon the passion of Christ. Show them through 
it, and through his acceptance of it, the meaning of that first unnumbered 
rule, "written for all disciples," in Light on the Path: "Before the eyes 
can see, they must be incapable of tears." It is the first law of disciple- 
ship, and the first test of the disciple is that he should live his life in 
accordance with it. Yet how many are there who have taken the trouble 
even to try to understand it? Let us grant that it is written in cipher, 
and that its surface meaning might be misinterpreted into the very oppo- 
site of the truth. But the disciple is not one who is content with surface 
meanings, and when the commentary is studied there is no ground left 
for misconception. 

"To be incapable of tears is to have faced and conquered the simple 
human nature, and to have attained an equilibrium which cannot be 
shaken by personal emotions. It does not imply any hardness of heart, 
or any indifference. . . . None of these conditions are fit for a dis- 
ciple, and if any one of them exist in him, it must be overcome before 
the Path can be entered upon. . . . This sensibility does not lessen 
when the disciple enters upon his training, it increases. It is the first test 
of his strength ; he must suffer, must enjoy or endure, more keenly than 
other men, while yet he has taken on him a duty which does not exist 
for other men, that of not allowing his suffering to shake him from his 
fixed purpose." 

And again : "They are ceremonies in which only novices take part, 
for they are simple services of the threshold. But it will show how 
serious a thing it is to become a disciple, when it is understood that these 
are all ceremonies of sacrifice. The first one is this of which I have been 
speaking. The keenest enjoyment, the bitterest pain, the anguish of loss 
and despair, are brought to bear on the trembling soul, which has not 
yet found light in the darkness, which is helpless as a blind man is : and 
until these shocks can be endured without loss of equilibrium the astral 
senses must remain sealed. This is the merciful law. . . . Then 
the vibration of life loses its power of tyranny. The sensitive nature 
must suffer still ; but the soul has freed itself and stands aloof, guiding 
the life towards its greatness." Not freed from suffering, but from the 
power of tyranny of suffering, from the power that suffering has had to 
turn us from our goal. "Jesus wept," but the agony of the garden had 
no power to turn him back from Calvary. 



340 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

There is a certain cowardice behind this common unwillingness to 
believe in the continuing reality of pain, and that we ourselves must suffer 
more, not less, as we advance. It is the same cowardice that underlies 
the denials of Christian Science. Pain cannot be real, it says. Why? 
The coward in us tries first one answer and then another. Because God 
is love. Yes; but love is pain as well as joy, and craves to suffer for 
what gives it joy. Because Christ died for us, and in his suffering 
(which but a moment ago we were prepared also to argue could not have 
been what it seemed) paid, once and for all, the penalty of my sin. But 
the uses of pain are far greater than the mere penalty of sin. It is the 
law of the life we live on earth. "In the world ye shall have tribulation : 
but be of good cheer ; I have overcome the world." It was his peace, not 
freedom from pain, that Christ promised to those who followed him. So, 
finally, we bring forth, stripped of pretext, the basic grounds of our 
objection. Pain, we say, cannot be real because I do not desire it, but 
rather wish ease and comfort and security. In so saying we pronounce 
judgment on ourselves ; not pain, but the self which speaks is thus 
revealed unreal. It is a self which is in all of us ; but it is the self that 
dies, not the soul that is immortal. 

It is time we faced the facts of life. He who seeks ease and com- 
fort and security is not seeking the real, and the sooner he gives up aU 
idea of discipleship the better it will be for him and all his fellows. Dis- 
cipleship makes life harder, not easier. It causes us to do in years, and 
by the force of our own will and desire, what life itself would do for us 
through cycles of rebirth. Only the man who loves something more than 
self, more than ease or comfort or security, more than joy or pain, or 
life or death, or anything that these may bring to him, has the least chance 
of success. Only as he has something for which he is willing to die, has 
he anything by which he may enter the world of the real, or live there 
when he has entered. 

Do you remember that day, years ago, when we visited S in his 

laboratory ? I have never forgotten the simple experiment he showed us, 
and I imagine that you, too, will recall it ; the little coils of copper wire, 
all lying inert and unresponsive, quite "comfortable" and "at ease," though 
above them hung that great electric magnet to which my knife leapt when 
I let it go. Then through each of those little coils, one by one, S 
passed a current that he varied as he chose ; and the coils began to quiver 
and to move. Some stood upright; others leapt up, as had my knife; 
some straining at the threads that held them, others breaking loose and 
flying free. The magnet had not changed its power; but they had 
changed. Before they had been as dead things. Now it was as though 
they were alive. And in accordance with the current in each was the 
power by which the magnet drew them. It is not a new illustration of 
the relation between the desire in men's hearts and the power of the 

Lodge to help them ; for S himself has used it for this purpose, 

and I have more than once borrowed it from him. But it is a singularly 



LETTERS TO FRIENDS 341 

good one, and should make clear the point that when it is said that the 
disciple must make himself such by the force of his own unaided desire, 
it does not contravene the fact that it is only through the Master's grace 
that we rise or move at all. 

Desire! On every page of Light on the Path it is revealed as the 
secret of discipleship. Every rule deals with it, showing us how to loose 
it from its entanglements in the hopes and fears of self, and to set its 
mighty power free to draw us to what is greater than the self. Life is 
so rich and deep, each atom so truly images the whole, that every step 
of our way is itself heaven and itself hell. Clinging to the one and 
dreading the other, we fear to move. Desire runs athwart our course, 
and not along it. We are held in the vibration of pleasure and of pain. 
For to move forward means to surrender heaven and to enter hell. And 
when life itself forces this upon us, and we hear the gates of hell clang 
shut behind us, we turn and beat upon them with our futile fists, and fall, 
and weep, and are held fast in hell by our very unwillingness to surrender 
the heaven we have lost. The door, once closed, will never again open. 
"It is useless to pause and weep for a scene in a kaleidoscope which has 
passed." Our way lies forward. Tonight will not lead to yesterday, but 
to tomorrow. No man can leave hell by the door through which he 
entered it, but only by traversing its full length and depth, till he reaches 
at its further end that sudden opening on the mount of purgatory, and 
sees above and before him the stars of a new heaven and the verdure 
of a new earth. 

We talk much of the law of correspondences, and of cyclic progres- 
sion. We say, "As above, so below" ; and that all things move in cycles, 
summer and winter, day and night, life and death and birth again. But 
we are singularly slow to apply it to ourselves and to each step that we 
must take upon our path ; to see its truth in little, as we are compelled to 
see it in big. In our own thought, for our own lives, we would have it 
always summer, always day; pleasure always, never pain. Like vale- 
tudinarians, men move here and there, and up and down the earth, seek- 
ing only the climate suited to their weakness ; dropping their pursuits and 
scurrying off at the first hint of inclement weather ; bitterly reproachful 
of their "luck," or lack of judgment, when, despite all their efforts, ills 
descend upon them. They have forgotten, if they ever knew, what it 
means to live. And we are as they, when we set ease and comfort and 
security for our goal; and strive to cling to every pleasure, shuddering 
away from every pain. There is no way to the resurrection save that 
which leads through Calvary. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a 
corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone : but if it die, 
it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and 
he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal." 

At every step of the way we must die and be reborn. It is the law 
of life. Each day, each moment, is a cycle in itself, and must be lived 
in its entirety by the disciple who would learn in years the lessons of life- 



342 THEOSOPHICAL QUARTERLY 

times. In everything we must be prepared to sacrifice what it has for us : 
pleasure, comfort, love or truth. Yes, the very things which make it dear 
to us and for which \ve sought it with toil and pain. One by one, each 
heaven that we reach must be surrendered. How else can we advance? 
How else can we grow strong to make the last and supreme sacrifice of 
"the Dharmakaya robe," and not "cross to the other shore," a "Pratyeka 
Buddha" ? We must keep our eyes fixed steadfastly on the shadow of the 
cross ; see and seek it always. Lengthening as we move forward, it points 
our way to the agony of Gethsemane and the utter desolation of Golgotha, 
for there only can come the dawn of resurrection. We cannot face these 
great sacrifices in advance. We have not the requisite power of imagina- 
tion. Nor is it meant that we should attempt to do so. We shall not 
come to them as we are now. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil 
thereof," and it will be with tomorrow's strength that we shall come to 
tomorrow's trials. But we can face those which front us here and now ; 
and face them, too, in the full knowledge that we must gain from them 
that which we shall need for what lies ahead. We can do the little, 
looking forward to the great ; and, taking ourselves steadily in hand, gain 
the courage to claim the peace of battle the self-giving that does not 
turn from wounds or death. 

\Ve shall not find this peace by seeking the immunity from loss and 
pain which indifference seems to offer. It is a false detachment, to which 
only cowardice prompts, when we think, "I will not have a dog, because 
I shall suffer when he dies; I will not surround myself with things I care 
for, because they will only be broken or defaced, and give me pain ; I will 
not permit myself to love, or to enjoy, or to desire anything at all save 
the fulfilment of my one purpose to attain." Shut off thus from joy and 
pain alike, we should be shut off from life itself ; and the purpose to. 
attain, thus centred and confined to self, would either be strangled and 
die, or else, driving more and more fiercely in, would press every instinct 
back upon that centre of selfishness, till it made us demons neither men 
nor gods. 

Nor will life admit us, merely as willing victims, to the halls of 
reality. The laws of discipleship are both too merciful and too stern. 
Passive acceptance will not suffice. There is no power that wishes to 
lead us like lambs to the slaughter, even if we should persuade ourselves 
that we are willing to be so led. Our desire must be wholly positive. 
We must so energize our muscles, oxidize our blood, as not only to be 
able to withstand the arctic climate of the real, but so as to crave and 
seek it. "The Lord thy God is a jealous God," and if we would draw 
near to him, we must prefer the rude blows and buffeting of the law to 
any caress from any other hand. 

And so we come back to the one great essential that alone makes 
discipleship intelligible or possible desire. There must flame within 
our hearts a desire so intense that neither pleasure nor pain can quench 
or dim it. Pleasure and pain, heaven and hell, are real ; and our way 



LETTERS TO FRIENDS 343 

lies through each in turn with ever deepening intensity. Yet they must 
be for us as nothing, forgotten, ignored, the whole nature given to some- 
thing else, so loved, so valuable in and for itself, that what it may bring 
or mean to us matters no