 |
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 |
< What Are the Theosophists (continued from page 8-347) >
cently adopted in General Council, at Bombay, is this mandate: “It is not lawful for any officer of the Parent Society to express, by word or act, any hostility to, or preference for, any one section (sectarian division, or group within the Society) more than another. All must be regarded and treated as equally the objects of the Society’s solicitude and exertions. All have an equal right to have the essential features of their religious belief laid before the tribunal of an impartial world.” In their individual capacity, members may, when attacked, occasionally break this Rule; but, nevertheless, as officers they are restrained, and the Rule is strictly enforced during the meetings. For, above all human sects stands Theosophy in its abstract sense; Theosophy which is too wide for any of them to contain but which easily contains them all.
In conclusion, we may state that, broader and far more universal in its views than any existing mere scientific Society, it has plus science its belief in every possibility, and determined will to penetrate into those unknown spiritual regions which exact science pretends that its votaries have no business to explore. And, it has one quality more than any religion in that it makes no difference between Gentile, Jew, or Christian. It is in this spirit that the Society has been established upon the footing of a Universal Brotherhood.
Unconcerned about politics; hostile to the insane dreams of Socialism and of Communism, which it abhors—as both are but disguised conspiracies of brutal force and sluggishness against honest labour; the Society cares but little about the outward human management of the material world. The whole of its aspirations are directed toward the occult truths of the visible and invisible worlds. Whether the physical man be under the rule of an empire or a republic, concerns only the man of matter. His body may be enslaved; as to his Soul, he has the right to give to his rulers the proud answer of Socrates to his Judges. They have no sway over the inner man.
Such is, then, the Theosophical Society, and such its principles, its multifarious aims, and its objects. Need we wonder at the past misconceptions of the general public, and the easy hold an enemy has been able to find to lower it in the public estimation? The true student has ever been a recluse, a man of silence and meditation. With the busy world his habits and tastes are so little in common that, while he is studying his enemies and slanderers have undisturbed opportunities. But time cures all and lies are but ephemera. Truth alone is eternal.
About a few of the Fellows of the Society who have made great scientific discoveries, and some others to whom the psychologist and the biologist are indebted for the new light thrown upon the darker problems of the inner man, we will speak later on. Our object now was but to prove to the reader that Theosophy is neither “a newfangled doctrine,” a political cabal, nor one of those societies of enthusiasts which are born to-day but to die to-morrow. That not all of its members can think alike, is proved by the Society having organized into two great Divisions,—the Eastern and the Western—and the latter being divided into numerous sections, according to races and religious views. One man’s thought, infinitely various as are its manifestations, is not all-embracing. Denied ubiquity, it must necessarily speculate but in one direction; and once transcending the boundaries of exact human knowledge, it has to err and wander, for the ramifications of the one Central and Absolute Truth are infinite. Hence we occasionally find even the greatest philosophers losing themselves in the labyrinths of speculations, thereby provoking the criticisms of posterity. But as all work for one and the same object, namely, the disenthrallment of human thought, the elimination of superstitions, and the discovery of truth, all are equally welcome. The attainment of these objects, all agree, can best be secured by convincing the reason and warming the enthusiasm of the generation of fresh young minds, that are just ripening to maturity, and making ready to take the place of their prejudiced and conservative fathers. And, as each,—the great ones as well as small,—have trodden the royal road to knowledge, we listen to all, and take both small and great into our fellowship. For no honest searcher comes back empty-handed, and even he who has enjoyed the least share of popular favor can lay at least his mite upon the one altar of Truth.
The Light of Asia.
Mr. Edwin Arnold, at the close of his prefatory and expressive sentences sending forth into the world of higher literature a very remarkable poem, modestly trusts that this his latest work, coupled with his “Indian Song of Songs,” will “preserve the memory of one who loved India and the Indian people.” There need be no doubt upon that score. The embroidered imagery; the power and glow of description; the animated love of Eastern colour, life, and scenery; the lines fired with the music of tropical climes, the very scent as it were of the flowers of India, the song, of her birds, the decoration of her maidens, the tinkling of her jewelled girdles and bangles, the deep solemnities of her faith will quickly find their way to many hearts here as well as among the people and the votaries amidst whom the gifted author passed so fruitful a part of his useful and active life. But “The Light of Asia” has far higher claims to consideration than as an affectionate memorial to old friends and a vivid recollection of old scenes. It presents the layman who knows nothing of India, her life and her landscapes, with an absorbing and most interesting study of one of the greatest moral teachers the world has ever known; and introduces his character, his self-denial, his teaching, his code of morality, and his wonderful influence by means of the power of poetry and the intellectual fascination of mellifluous verse.
This eloquent and attractive poem purports to contain the life and teaching of Gautama, Prince of India, and Founder of Buddhism, as told in verse by an Indian Buddhist, and seldom have the life and doctrines of the founder of a religion of morals been put forward in a more attractive manner for the edification of the student and the admiration of the lovers of pure poetry. It was high time that something clear and definite should be known about that great religious system which is followed by about a third part of the human race. Originated in India about 600 years before the Christian era, it may have faded and almost disappeared from the land of its birth, but it is still the prevailing religion of the inhabitants of the high table-land north of the Himalayas, of Siberia, of China, Japan, India beyond the Ganges, Ceylon, and many of the islands of the Indian archipelago. Therefore, in order to influence, and withal to fascinate his readers with the depth, the earnestness, and the simplicity of this religious cult that depends so little upon dogmas and ritual, and is essentially a moral system, Mr. Arnold paints for us with a sure hand and in brilliant colours the life of the founder of Buddhism, from his birth at the kingly court of his father to the time when his mission was complete, and his work upon earth fulfilled. The founder of this great faith is a prince of the name of Siddártha, son of Suddhodana, King of Kapilavastu, somewhere on the confines of Nepaul; and in order to know the mystery of his birth, the inspirations of his education, the marvels of his marriage, the solemnity of his self-denial, and the wondrous asceticism of his wanderings no one can do better than turn to the striking records contained in Mr. Arnold’s poem. There have been other eminent historians of Buddhism notably Hardy, Burnouf and M. Barthelemy St. Hilaire, but now for the first time the personality of Prince Siddártha is put forward with the charm of imaginative description and the decoration of poetical fancy. Neither imagination nor fancy are, however, allowed to interfere with the accurate portraiture of this extraordinary life, or with the principles of the teaching of the Lord Buddha, which are here urged in the clearest and most comprehensive manner. The beauty of his person and his high mental endowments; the luxurious period of his long and dreamy isolation from the world, surrounded by every charm and distraction that could soothe the heart of man; the wooing and winning of a lovely Princess, after feats of chivalry and daring, up to the moment of delight when, with a lover’s rapture,
“He loosed |
The exquisite idleness of the married life of the Prince, shut out from the world by gates of brass and marble, and surrounded by fulfilled desires and the intensity of gratification; the inborn longing for something higher, nobler, and purer than all this, and the gradual determination to break away from splendours and delights to face the storms and bitterness of the world, are all told with a combined grace and vigour by which, indeed, this charming volume is marked from end to end. It is in this dreamy and abstracted portion of the Buddha’s life that the poet naturally revels, and Mr. Arnold’s knowledge of Eastern surroundings and customs serve to decorate and adorn his opulent theme. Picture, for instance, this perfect scene of happiness<... continues on page 8-350 >
* By Edwin Arnold, M.A., F.R.G.S., C.S.I., London: Trubner & Co.
Editor's notes
- ↑ The Light of Asia. by unknown author, Bombay Gazette, The, Friday, September 12, 1879; from the Daily Telegraph