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vol. title: Vol Four of The Theosophical Society of The Arya Samaj of Arya-wart vol. period: Sept 1878 – Sept 1879 pages in vol.: 350 |
AND
Indian Advertiser.
The Theosophist
About the 1st of October will appear the first number of a monthly journal called the Theosophist. It will comprise at least 40 columns of highly interesting and valuable matter; printed beautifully on fine English paper Royal 4 to size. Some of the most learned scholars of Europe, Asia and America have promised to write for it. It will discuss and explain from the Hindu point of view Aryan Science, Philosophy, and religion, the precepts and the practice of Yoga, Spiritualism, Astrology, Mesmerism, Crystallomancy, and the Occult Sciences generally. It will also contain articles upon the most important American discoveries in the Arts.
Price Rs. 6 yearly; Rs. 4 half yearly; single copies 12 As.
No name accepted on credit terms.
Address
From an advertisement in another column it will be seen that the indefatigable Theosophists are preparing to bring out a monthly Magazine of science, philosophy, religion, &c. The Magazine is named The Theosophist, and proposes to treat from an Indian, that is we suppose, from the Dayanand Saraswati point of view, questions of vital interest to this country. Some of the leading scholars both Oriental and Occidental have, we are told, promised to contribute to the columns of the Theosophist, and if so, the Magazine may, in some measure, supply the great “spiritual” want of certain sections of Hindu Society. We cannot flatter ourselves with the hope that theosophy, as at present interpreted, will be generally acceptable here. But whatever the result of their labours, one cannot but feel some renewed hope for the future of India at the display of so much disinterested zeal in her cause on the part of foreigners. It is to be hoped the forthcoming theosophic organ will have adequate support.
In pursuance of our weekly duty—a duty which our daily contemporaries shirk—we are bound to give some account of how the distinguished head-centre of this presidency is consuming the golden hours. It is almost superfluous to assure the public of the rest of India that His Excellency has done his best towards speeding those social pleasures which, in this month, render the capital of the Deccan one of the brightest places in all India—to say nothing of Simla, which is not in India at all. Notably Sir Richard’s countenance has been given to the highly successful Regatta, one of the briskest and best contested ever known. But it is of His Excellency’s more special occupations of the week that our clairvoyant must tell, of the occult quest or the imperial projects on which his busy brain has been at work. Well, then, we have disclosed to us that Sir Richard has been more or less closely engaged in presiding over and watching the simmering contents of—two kettles of fish. One, which, when our clairvoyant first described it, seemed to be boiling at a great rate, proves only to be a mere tin-pot affair after all. That is inscribed the Deccan ‘College Mixture,’ about which one of our daily contemporaries was so much agitated in the early part of the week. Sir Richard, having about that time seized and thrust in the cold spoon marked ‘official correspondence’ the small ebullition has been gradually subsiding; though he evidently sees that, after the scum is disposed of, there may be some dregs that will be neither sweet to keep or easy to get rid of. Now let us raise the curtain that has hidden the big kettle, which might almost be spoken of as a cauldron according to classical precedents—not of Medea, seeing that, in this instance, what of youthful was put in is likely to come out as of weird and eld. On the touch of our clairvoyant’s wand, lurid letters appear on the side of the cauldron, which, though in degenerate Prakrit character, seem to run thus—‘Poona conflagrations, Deccan dacoities, Ramossis, Rohillas, Phudke.’ Judging from His Excellency’s demeanour the contents of this cauldron have occasioned him the direst perplexity; and not less so because, in his anxious watching of the violent bubbling, he appears to have been attended by Hecate; though, strange to say, on this occasion the old hag has seemed to wear a turban during the mystic rites, and has stirred the devilish mixture with what bore resemblance to a modern policemen’s truncheon, muttering now and again, ‘key, sir’—whatever that may mean. Were not Sir Richard’s nerves of toughest brass, one might sympathise with our clairvoyant’s description of how the beads of perspiration have risen, again and again, to his august brow, while he watched the alternate ebullition and stagnation of the foul contents. The instrument with which His Excellency now and again agitated the devils’ mess, has seemed sometimes as if marked Bombay Gazette; but this of course must have been one of the few instances in which our spirituelle informant sees double. There was less doubt as to some of the modern words intermixed with the mantras that Sir Richard was reciting, as if under compulsion; they ran somewhat thus—‘real instigators incipient rebellion know their time coming now known evidence bring condign punishment being collected only stupid British rule confounded courts prevent whole nest jail long ago complicity implicating companions’—and so on.
Now, who on seeing revelations like these, would wish to share Sir Richard’s darker cares of power; who would envy his sparkling fringes of sicca rupees? We have been so grieved with the sight of this vision that we think of suspending our clairvoyant, and may turn instead to the Muscovite seeress whose more penetrating ken may be able to disclose to us some “soul of goodness in these things of evil.”
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1879.
Modern science is worth nothing; or it is worth a great deal more than it is considered to be by that combative but really great adept, Madame Blavatsky. A Berlin Professor, Dubois-Reymond by name, has only recently delivered a lecture in Germany, that has excited not only a great deal of public interest, but has also caused a deal of alarm in those weak minds, to whom eternity itself is short. The Professor is of opinion, that this world will come to an end before seventeen millions of years are over. And this because, the sun loses its caloric every year, and when he has lost all its heat, the world must die. What a sad prospect! Can we not call to our assistance another sun, or pray to the prophets to intercede with the Father on his thsone to let the sun retain his heat? Why should the earth be eternally chained to the sun? O! for a new Prometheus to defy Jupitor, or a new Hercules to break this chain!
Editor's notes
- ↑ The Theosophist by unknown author, Bombay Review and Indian Advertiser, Saturday, September 6, 1879
- ↑ From an advertisement in another column... by unknown author, Bombay Review and Indian Advertiser, Saturday, September 6, 1879
- ↑ Untitled illustration by unknown author
- ↑ In pursuance of our weekly duty... by unknown author, Bombay Review and Indian Advertiser, Saturday, September 6, 1879
- ↑ Untitled illustration by unknown author
- ↑ Modern science is worth... by unknown author, Indian Spectator, The, Sunday, September 7, 1879