Xau F. - Theosophy
Theosophy
Theosophy, |
This is what a great number of our most accomplished socialites repeat in unison.
“Theosophy – what is it?" one might ask; for the proponent of this religion, or rather of this new doctrine, is an Englishwoman who, moreover, long ago earned her full naturalization among us – as her very name attests: Lady Caithness, Duchess of Pomar.
Why shouldn’t I admit it now? – there is always some merit in speaking one’s mind freely – I had heard tell of Theosophy, and I smiled at the notion – fully intending to have a good laugh at it later.
For us, boulevardiers,[1] who quite earnestly believe that a debut at the Cirque d’Été[2] or a select social soirée can take on the proportions of a major event; for us Parisians, whose horizon is bounded to the North by Tortoni’s[3], to the South by the Château de Madrid[4], to the East by Voisin’s, and to the West by Wepler’s; for us, eternal children, though already graying at the temples – it is second nature to scoff at everything we do not know, to guffaw at everything of which we are ignorant, in short, to make lighthearted jokes and to treat with amiable, easygoing mockery anything and everything new that appears under the sun.
The sentence is indeed long, and the metaphor quite bombastic, merely to confess that I once laughed at Theosophy – and that I scarcely laugh at it anymore. Admittedly, I am no convert; there is a leaven of skepticism within me that ferments so vigorously that I am quite certain neither Lady Caithness, nor Madame Blavatsky will ever succeed in stripping away the "old man" within me. But, but... I find myself half-disarmed, and one will understand why.
Following a visit with which I had the honor of paying her, the Duchess of Pomar graciously agreed to convene, on Sunday evening, at her sumptuous residence on the Rue de l’Université, what my excellent friend Baron de Vaux called the "top-tier" Theosophists. Madame Blavatsky, in particular, was present at the gathering. We know that Madame Blavatsky is Russian, that she lived for a long time in India, and that she is a most distinguished woman. Her complexion is somewhat tanned by the tropical sun; one senses in her a woman of breeding, despite a rather unpretentious, almost boyish air; as for her attire, it is quite singular: her black moiré gown features a loose cut that calls to mind, simultaneously, a child’s smock and a priest’s surplice.
The Duchess of Pomar undertakes to tell us who Madame Blavatsky is, from a Theosophical standpoint.
“It is,” she said, “under the auspices of the Masters of India, known as the Mahatmas, that the Theosophical Society was created, more than eight years ago, in America, by Madame Blavatsky, author of ‘Isis Unveiled’, and by Colonel Olcott, an American officer, who served his country with distinction in the Northern Army during the Civil War.”
Colonel Olcott is currently in London, with a young Brahmin educated at the Theosophical School – I was about to write theological school – in Madras, and who is so well-versed in our Western civilization that one could question him on Schopenhauer, Stuart Mill, and Comte without causing him the slightest embarrassment.”
Lady Caithness, Duchess of Pomar, deserves more than a mere few lines. She is a true grande dame – as well as a spirit of a transcendent nature. I would say the same of Mme Emilie de Morsier, the Society’s secretary.
As for the other individuals attending the meeting, which was highly aristocratic, the gathering consisted not only of members of high society, but also of lawyers, professors, and physicians. Moreover, all of them true believers.
That said, and once and for all, what is Theosophy? Here, on this subject, is Lady Caithness’s verbatim answer:
“Theosophy” means “Divine Wisdom,” just as Plato and other theosophists have defined it.
A materialist may perfectly well be a theosophist, for he, too, endeavors to discover the solution to the laws of nature that remain hidden from our eyes.
Theosophy represents the highest vantage point from which one may survey all the perspectives and teachings that serve to facilitate the discovery of truth.
Theosophy embraces every branch of knowledge and strives to reconcile the contradictory doctrines from various schools, denying nothing, yet seeking to plumb the depths of all things.
This is to say that Theosophy is not a religion, and is even less of a dogma; it is a gentle and amiable philosophy, eminently eclectic, and even slightly skeptical, yet one that occasionally strays in flagrant contradiction, and which requires explanations, in the realm of sentimentality, mysticism, and dream, to say nothing more.
This contradiction is, in my view, established in the statutes of the Paris Society, and are copied in the Madras Program. They are as follows:
- 1) To form a universal brotherhood of humanity, without distinction of creed, color, or race;
- 2) To encourage the study of literature, religions, and sciences of the East, and to highlight their importance;
- 3) To engage in research into the still-unknown laws of nature and into the latent psychic powers of man.
It is a delightful reverie, so delightful, that there is not a single philosopher who has not indulged in it! The only catch is that one would have to be practical!
Madame Blavatsky, in that aristocratic hotel, and with the insouciance of a Russian grande dame, would let the blue smoke from her cigarettes de la Ferme curl from her lips as she spun for me a most seductive theory of Theosophy.
“All religions are alike,” she told me. “They are all copied one from another, or nearly so. Their essence, in any case, is the same. It is dogma that killed the Gospel. It is the priest who killed Religion. That explains why we accept adherents from every sect. You might point out that we turn away neither materialists nor atheists; that is true! The very simple and logical reason lies in the fact that we believe that everything, up to the supernatural, can be explained scientifically, and that those who rely on pure and abstract science are on our side. Our masters would reason through the supernatural with them, just as they would with a theorem of geography[5].”
Nothing could be more sensible, wouldn’t you agree?
Why is it, alas, that the ecstatic side and the mystical spirit of the adherents must inevitably take the upper hand? I have spoken my mind to them quite frankly; I therefore have the right to speak freely now. Since they embrace all religions yet remain in schism with each of them, why are they not entirely independent? Note that if I raise these points, it is because Theosophy has made great strides within the high Parisian aristocracy, that deserves encouragement, and indeed applause, when amidst the thousand distractions of social festivities, it devotes itself to serious study, or even surrenders itself to utopian dreams. Yet, Theosophy can exert a salutary or pernicious influence.
Here, the feminine character predominates. Our society will no longer produce apostles; though it may well produce priestesses.
Most Theosophists are Buddhists, and in any case, they are far from agreeing, which is not to say that there is not a very great degree of tolerance among them. Indeed, this tolerance is as great as their lack of logic. Philosophers, they disclaim the role of pontiffs; doctrinarians, they disclaim the label of sectarians. Furthermore, with their indisputable clarity of vision, and their vast erudition, they seek to reduce everything not merely to the divine, but to the supernatural. They are eclectic to the point of being spiritualists, just as they are illogical to the point of opposing spiritualism after having accepted its manifestations. A pure and simple spirit, which they term the “seventh sense,” is most certainly highly developed within them; as for consistency of thought, that is quite another matter.
Thus, just as they borrow from various religions those elements peculiar to them, making everything converge toward science, Theosophists do not disdain mountebanks and purveyors of quack remedies. The Italians’ “chi lo sa?” always looms before them. There are things one does not understand, and before which one bows. “E pur si muove!” said Galileo, who was locked away. Galileo understood nothing of the Earth’s rotational movement, yet he observed it. Theosophists, likewise, refuse to deny; they admit everything, assert that they understand everything, and remain silent on everything, even at the risk of appearing ridiculous.
All this would still be quite acceptable, and the merely indifferent among us, like most of us, would be inclined to believe that by blending skepticism, religiosity, and extravagance, one could concoct a most appetizing bouillabaisse; but alongside this main course, we are being served hors d’oeuvres that are far too spicy! I do not dispute the influence of environment, upbringing, and way of life; I believe that a contemplative life, overstimulated by study, can develop certain intellects to an excessive degree. But to go from there to talk of occultism, Mahatmas, adepts, and other such nonsense, there is an abyss!
What does the Duchess of Pomar tell us on this subject?
The Mahatmas, adepts in the occult sciences, are centered in Asia. Initiates are recruited from every part of the globe. Men from various European nationalities are among them; yet, when an initiate in the occult sciences has attained a certain degree of psychic development, his progress not only endows him with new faculties but also renders him sensitive to influences of which most of us have no conception. He finds himself compelled to withdraw from centers where physical passions and material instincts predominate. In populous cities, senses as refined as his would be utterly superfluous, much as, for instance, sight is of no use in a thick fog.
From there, it is but a short step to speak of certain mysterious beings, true contemporary alchemists, modern-day Cagliostros endowed with second sight. Upon whom does Theosophy rest? Upon them, upon these brothers of Tibet or the Himalayas, Theosophists reply. And when a somewhat mocking doubt arose within me:
“You have to see it to believe it!” was the answer I received.
“But who are these brothers of Tibet?” I objected.
“Philosophers, superior minds, who voluntarily isolate themselves and who, endowed with that seventh sense which encompasses the other six, have lived immersed in study for so long that they have been able, while keeping abreast of contemporary evolution, to penetrate secrets as yet unknown, which they pass down from generation to generation...”
“And which they take great care not to reveal?”
“Indeed; it would be far too imprudent to place them within the reach of the masses. It is infinitely more dangerous than your dynamite. They possess secrets capable of revolutionizing the entire world! Are you unaware, then, that the "CHELA,” or disciple of Occultism in Asia, is under an obligation to divulge nothing whatsoever of the mysteries of occult science? And it is inconceivable that a Chela would make revelations to the profane world, for any motive whatsoever, without having been absolutely authorized to do so beforehand! This is the reason why the great esoteric school has, throughout the ages, guarded, and continues to guard, its wondrous secret from the uninitiated masses.”
“But that very mystery,” I said to Mme Blavatsky, “is the condemnation of your system, whose philosophical spirit I approve of and whose mystical spirit I reject! You accept phenomena by tracing them back to science; you therefore have no right to evade the issue scientifically.”
Whether you accept Hindu legends or Eastern theories, it doesn’t matter! But whom, in France or in Europe, will you persuade to accept what you call “adeptship”: that sort of supra-mundane existence, divinatory science, higher state of being, or perpetual ecstasy? And then, there are your brothers from Tibet – forgive my positivism...
You will be asked who they are, where they are living, and how you communicate with them!
“We cannot say. There are secrets that should not be placed in just anyone’s hands. Look here, said Madame Blavatsky to me: I receive communications from the adepts or from the Brothers of Tibet in two seconds. You would not understand it, and I cannot or will not explain it to you! But it is so.”
“That, added a doctor, is what Dr. Charcot calls direct perception. Ah! If only Dr. Charcot could speak! an intern replied. But before he can scientifically explain supernatural phenomena, he is forced to have them accepted.”
One thing worried me, I admit.
I asked Mme Blavatsky where the adepts she spoke of lived. In Tibet?...
– The adepts are scattered here and there, all over the world. There are about a hundred of them.
– But do they know one another?
– Certainly.
– Have they met?
– Not always.
– So...
– So, they communicate with one another by means of emanations. I repeat that this is scientifically recognized.
– But for them, there is no consecration or ordination?
– No.
– Do you know any of these brothers?
– Two or three.
– From what does their character, however abstract it may be, derive from?
– From their aptitudes and the way those aptitudes develop.
We could have gone on talking like that for a long time. And, indeed, the conversation gradually turned to the “astral body,” which corresponds to the “perispirit” of the Spiritists, to Devachan (or the Buddhist heaven), to subjective and objective life, to the theory of cause and effect, and to Nirvana, that is, the complete dominion of spirit over matter, and so on.
We had strayed far from the starting point, and the discussion was becoming muddled. Yet I learned that in Madras, the headquarters of this new philosophy, a more practical and rational school in its approach was training disciples, and that one of them was among us. His profound knowledge, rare aptitudes, and extensive knowledge clearly demonstrated that the claims of Theosophy were not entirely illusory. Why, alas, did there have to be the Brothers of Tibet, some mysterious Himalayan cavern, and the “Ananda” of Hindu philosophy? Charcot and modern science have no use for such nonsense!
A cup of tea and a smile from Lady Caithness brought us back to the reality of things, that is, to the pleasant matter of high intellectual and social life.
As I left the salons of the Hôtel de Pomar, adorned with coats of arms and illuminated by the myriad gleams of candlelight, and when the rustle of silk gowns faded into silence, I reflected that Paris was a city of endless surprises.
Who would have predicted that in this Faubourg Saint-Germain, still steeped in antiquated prejudices, a new religion would emerge, grounded on the one hand in the beliefs of the ancient Hindu world, and on the other, in the discoveries of modern science? It is, at any rate, an intriguing endeavor, one proving that it is not the mountain that goes to the Faubourg, but the Faubourg that goes to the mountain...
Fernand Xau
Footnotes
- ↑ A boulevardier is an urbane and elegant individual, typically a man, who hung around the Parisian boulevards, cafés, and fashionable social venues during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The term can also describe Parisian sensibility, lighthearted and theatrical in nature. – Translater's note
- ↑ Cirque d’Ete is a summer festival. – Trans.
- ↑ Tortoni most likely is an Italian Café in Paris. – Trans.
- ↑ The Château de Madrid was a royal residence built in the Bois de Boulogne, which was located in the present-day commune of Neuilly-sur-Seine. – Trans.
- ↑ It looks like this is a mistype for “geometry”. – Trans.