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Add No. 8 (November 1887) electronic text, checked page by page against the 1887 scan
m (Add No. 7 (October 1887) electronic text, checked page by page against the 1887 scan) |
m (Add No. 8 (November 1887) electronic text, checked page by page against the 1887 scan) |
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{{Page aside in Path|v=2|n=8|p=244}} | |||
{{Style P-Title small caps|level=3|1=Personalities.}} | |||
Step aside, O toiling brother, into a convenient by-way, and for a moment let the surging crowd pass by. Do not tremble like a child for fear that you may be hopelessly left behind, for you will be forced back all too soon, though if you really pause, and truly ponder, you will never again be so completely identified with the pursuits of the crowd, though you will still be a part of it. Ask of your soul: "What are these personalities that make up the mighty human tide so widely rushing past—this rushing tide replenished at every instant by birth, depleted at every instant by death, yet flowing on forever?" How read you this journey from the cradle to the grave? | |||
Think of the countless myriads whose weary, toiling, bleeding feet have worn deep the channels of this river of time. Listen to the complaints of the weary, the cries of the wounded, the groans of the despairing. Watch with pity the ashen faces as they hear the sound of the cataract ahead, over which they know they must plunge alone into unknown depths. Many are resigned in the presence of fate, for there is true courage at the heart of humanity, but how few are joyous except through ignorance and forgetfulness, and these are the frightened ones in the presence of the inevitable. | |||
Listen to the loud acclaims, when in the rushing stream one is for a moment borne aloft on the crest of a wave, and watch the envy, and even malice of those who are inevitably drawn into the hollow of the wave, as they also struggle to reach the crest. Alas! the waves of Wealth, and | |||
{{Page aside in Path|v=2|n=8|p=245}} | |||
Power; Alas! the bubbling foam of Love. The night cometh, and the stream is still; yet even in the arms of the Brother of Death the echoes of these mighty waves chant their requiem. | |||
Listen a little deeper, O brother of my soul, and hear the sound of many voices: "What shall I eat? What shall I drink? and wherewithal shall I be clothed?" and then Alas! "O whither do I tend?" | |||
And still the surging tide rolls on. A friend is passing yonder; hail him, and beckon him to thy side. He answers: "I cannot wait; I have not time." Alas! what hath he else but Time, and the foam of the maddening billows? | |||
Turn now to thy companion, he who bade thee turn aside. Canst thou stop to consider, "Is he short, or tall, or fat, or lean, or black, or white, or man, or woman?" "Are his garments soiled, or clean?" "Comes he from the East, or from the West?" "Hath he letters of introduction?" "On whose authority did he bid thee halt?" "Did he speak in conventional language, and with the proper accent?" "Has his raiment the odor of the sea, or the breath of the mountain, or the fragrance of the flowery vale?" | |||
Be sure it is not thy awakened soul that thus inquires, tis only the voices of the stream yonder, and when thou turnest to look for thy companion, lo! he is gone, and thou art alone, alone with thy soul, and with the echoes of the stream. Fear chills thy blood, and every separate hair stands on end, and as thou rushest back into the surging stream, even thy boon companions are terrified at thy staring eyes, and thy death-like face. | |||
Hast thou seen a ghost? yea verily, the ghost of ghosts, the ''Dweller of the Threshold'', and yet thou mightest have found a friend, a teacher, a brother. Rush back into the stream. O! terrified, thou that fleest from thy shadow, and plunge beneath its festering waves, yet even as its murky waters overwhelm thee, thy muscles creep and fear tugs at thy heartstrings. | |||
{{Style P-Poem|Drain deep the cup, mount high the wave, | |||
Tramp down the weak, envy the brave ! | |||
Bear high the bowl with dance and song, | |||
Laugh at thy fears, shout loud and long. | |||
"O wine of Life! O vintage rare ! | |||
Pressed by sore feet in deep despair." | |||
Slowly the pendulum of time | |||
Swings to and fro, with measured chime, | |||
The Dweller e'er on Bacchus waits, | |||
And jealous guards the golden gates. | |||
O! wine of wisdom! soul distilled. | |||
Won from the silence, Life fulfilled. | |||
Vain are the things of time and sense, | |||
{{Page aside in Path|v=2|n=8|p=246}} | |||
Yet he who turns from these and waits, | |||
The glimmer of the golden gates | |||
Will bless the hand what e'er it be | |||
That tenders chart, or offers key. | |||
Came not the Christ in humble mien? | |||
Poor and despised, the Nazarene, | |||
And humble fishermen chose He | |||
Beside the sea of Galilee. | |||
Left not Lord Buddha throne and power | |||
To meditate at midnight hour? | |||
What matters it what hand bestows | |||
The balm of healing for our woes? | |||
For God is God, and Truth is Truth, | |||
Ripe age is but immortal youth. | |||
Let personalities alone, | |||
Go through the gates! and reach the throne.}} | |||
How many are turned aside by personalities? How many look to the garb of the messenger, forgetting the message, and yet is not the message plain? At one time the message comes from a manger, at another it descends from a throne. Yet is the message ever the same. Nature and time regard not personalities, but swallow up all alike, yet do nature and time and destiny teach ever the same great lesson, and he who would learn of these must both forego and forget personalities, his own and those of others. Personalities are but the fleeting waves on the river of time, caused by the friction of the winds of fortune; they are thy weakness and not thy strength. Thy strength is in thy soul, and thy soul's strength is in the calm, and not in storm revealed. | |||
Inquire not who or what the messenger, but study well the message that comes to thy soul, and bears thee ban or blessing according as thou receivest it, and while thou waitest with lamps untrimmed the Bridegroom passes by. | |||
What matters it to thee what infirmities the messenger may bear, except as thou mayest help him so to bear them that truth may run a freer race? Is it not enough for thee that truth hath given him her signet ring? Judge then of this, and if he falter in his speech or loiter by the way, take up the theme in clearer tones and speak it from thy soul to all thy kind. | |||
Wilt thou withhold thy blessing from the hand that bears the gift, and covet while rejecting the very gift it bears? If thou art so at cross purposes with thyself how canst thou be ''at one'' with truth? | |||
Truth is many-sided, speaks every language, is clothed in every garb, yet is she ever still the same, One, and unchangeable, now and forever. And if she is no respector of persons, canst thou be more select than she? | |||
{{Page aside in Path|v=2|n=8|p=247}} | |||
Alas! thou canst not find her thus, but error rather, and self-deceived rush down the stream of Time, and when thy personalities fall off then shalt thou realize that thou didst refuse the banquet of the gods by scorning thus their messenger. Search out, and know and love and serve the truth, ''for truth's own sake''. Follow it through all disguises with scent more sure and keen than hound in search of game. Refuse it not, though it reach thee from a dunghill, welcome it as though straight from God's own throne, and thus shall it ne'er escape thee, and neither love nor hate nor fear shall mar thy harvests, and truth shall honor thee, as thou hast welcomed her. | |||
Beware of false authority, for neither pope nor priest nor book can of itself contain it all, and yet despise them not, for so thou'lt miss the truth. The sole authority for truth is ''truth's own self'' and if thy soul is but akin to her, thy quickened soul will recognise her every garb, by ties more strong than blood, by kinship everlasting, and as the waters mingle with the sea, so flows thy soul into the bosom of the deeps whence springs afresh in thee the everlasting Life which is the vital breath of Truth. | |||
{{Style P-Signature|Harij.}} | |||
{{Page aside in Path|v=2|n=8|p=252}} | |||
{{Style P-Title small caps|level=3|1=Theosophical Aspects of Contemporary Literature.}} | |||
{{Style P-No indent|''"Astral Perception."''}} ''The Platonist'', September, 1887. An exceptionally thoughtful and valuable paper, the author of which is vouched for as a born seer and occultist. We hope to recognize other thoughts from his pen. He concludes: "Strictly in accord with the teaching of modern science is the statement in 'Through the Gates of Gold' that the separation which exists between individuals, between worlds, between the different poles of the universe and of life, the mental and physical phantasy called space, is a nightmare of the human imagination. To break through these illusions | |||
{{Page aside in Path|v=2|n=8|p=253}} | |||
realize the unity of all things is the task of the mystic. One who is thralled by the concerns of this life, hungers for the love of fellow beings and dreads their hatred, still cares for wealth and honor, still lusts for physical life and separate existence, had better not intrude upon that other field of existence, the astral world. Astral perception is not a thing in itself to be desired; it should come in the normal course of development. Nothing is gained by turning from one set of illusions to pursue another; and so of all pursuits phenomena-seeking is most to be deprecated. The knowledge comes only to those who strive to realize unity. He who, beginning upon the lowest plane of life by self-renunciation and devotion to the interests of others, realizes this truth upon each successive plane, attains Nirvana. He who seeks knowledge with any other motive than the unselfish desire to benefit all living creatures is drifting upon the unpiloted and starless." | |||
{{Style P-No indent|''"Through What Historical Channels did Buddhism Influence Early Christianity?"''}} ''Open Court'', Sept. 15, 1887. Third and concluding part of Gen. Forlong's essay. In this is shown the extreme activity of Buddhist missionary work in the centuries immediately preceding the Christian era, Buddhism having been the "first and perhaps the greatest of missionary faiths." Theirs was the propaganda which would naturally start such sects as the Therapeuts of 200, and the Essenes of 150, B. C., the Baptizers of the Euphrates and the Jordan, culminating in Johanites and Manicheans of Ctesiphon." They had ample time, between say, 300 B. C. and 150 A. C., to fulfill their Gospel mandate that "all must preach what the master taught—that whoso holds his faith shall be struck with blindness." Thus diligent Sramans had long sought every lone pass in wild mountains or river gorges, where they knew every traveler or traders must pass and rest, in order, 'to compass their proselytes,' and the wider to disseminate their faith in all lands. They urged on king and peasant, the robber and murderer, that the world was but a passing show in which they should try to assuage the miseries of their fellows; that they should ponder less upon their gods and more on a gospel of duty, and though this had little immediate effect, and this never had any, yet it commended itself to good men, and lightened the burdens of the weary. | |||
{{Style P-No indent|''"The Occult Sciences in the Temples of Ancient Egypt."''}} By Georgia Louise Leonard. ''Open Court'', September 29, October, 1887. A paper read at the "Fortnightly Conversation" in Washington. Its point of view is thoroughly sympathetic with the subject, and its conclusions are reached by an evidently thorough consideration. The shortcomings of modern scholars in Egyptology, who lack comprehension of the fundamental principles of Occultism, are exposed, "Honest and faithful, then, as these scholars may be," says the author, "It is not singular that they have failed to comprehend the full significance of ideas veiled in obscure or mystical language, and have stigmatized many a precious Egyptian scroll as childish and absurd. And yet—those who will discover in them priceless gems of truth half hid 'midst the clumsy modern renderings of a speech long dead." The author effectively rebukes the sneers of some of our self-sufficient modern scientists with the following significant words from Lord Bacon's "Novum Organum": "We have but an imperfect knowledge of the discoveries in arts and sciences made public in different ages and countries, and still less of what has been done by particular persons and transacted in private;" and Bacon further says: "As to those who set up for teachers of the sciences, when they drop their character, and at intervals speak their sentiments, they complain of the subtlety of nature, the concealment of truth, the obscurity of things, the entanglement of causes, and the imperfections of the human understanding; thus rather choosing to accuse the common state of men and things, than make confession of themselves." | |||
{{Footnotes}} | {{Footnotes}} | ||