HPB-SB-10-215

T i

vol. 10, p. 215

H. P. Blavatsky Scrapbooks

from Adyar archives of the International Theosophical Society

vol. 10

 

SBT, DT

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eng • рус

< An Antiquary's Ghost History (continued from page 10-214) >

appeared again, exactly in the same place and attitude as before. I saw the hands close to my own: I turned my head again, to examine him more closely, and I was framing a sentence to address to him, when I discovered that I did not dare to speak. I was afraid of the sound of my own voice. There he sat, and there sat I. I turned my head again to my work, and finished writing the two or three words I still had to write. The paper and my notes are at this moment before me, and exhibit not the slightest tremor or nervousness. I could point out the words I was writing when the phantom came and when he disappeared. Having finished my task, I shut the book and threw it on the table; it made a slight noise as it fell—the figure vanished.

Throwing myself back in my chair, I sat for some seconds looking at the fire with a curious mixture of feeling, and I remember wondering whether my friend would come again, and if he did whether he would hide the fire from me. Then first there stole upon me a dread and a suspicion that I was beginning to lose my nerve. I remember yawning; then I rose, lit my bedroom candle, took my books into the inner library, mounted the chair as before, and replaced five of the volumes; the sixth I brought back and laid upon the table where I had been writing when the phantom did me the honour to appear to me. By this time I had lost all sense of uneasiness. I blew out the four candles and marched off to bed, where I slept the sleep of the just or the guilty; I know not which, but I slept very soundly. This is a simple and unvarnished narrative of facts. Explanation, theory, or inference I leave to others.

How Best to Become a Theosophist*

By George Wyld, M. D.

Brothers and Sisters Theosophists,—In addressing you I feel deeply impressed with the importance of the question I now put to you—How best to become a theosophist?

As a preliminary observation, I need scarcely remind you that all who. aspire to become theosophists pledge themselves to live a pure, simple, temperate, and self-denying life, and with brotherly and sisterly love.

Theosophy means the science of the wisdom of God. But who is there among us who shall presume to dogmatise on a science beyond the comprehension of the human mind? For “who can by searching find out God? or who can find out the Almighty unto perfection?”

All we can do is to conceive in our minds an idea in harmony with our highest inspirations, and in doing so we shall accept of the axiom of the initiated King of Israel, when he said, “The awe of God is the beginning of wisdom.”

Let us here recall the definition of our position as laid down in the rules of our society, which read thus:—

“The British Theosophical Society is Founded for the purpose of discovering the nature and powers of the human soul and spirit by investigation and experiment.

“Our object is to increase the amount of human health, happiness, knowledge, wisdom, and goodness; and we pledge ourselves, to the best of our powers, to live a life of truth, temperance, purity, and brotherly love.

“We believe in a great first intelligent Cause, and in the Divine sonship of the spirit of man, and hence in the immortality of that spirit, and in the universal brotherhood of the human race.”

This is truly a holy and sublime programme, and the question which should present itself for our continual consideration is, “How best shall we carry out these rules, and thus become theosophists?”

In endeavouring to arrive at the best method, I shall do my best to present all sides of the question with fairness and submission; and if I fail to point out the truest method, or, in your opinion, underestirnate any method, or over-estimate any other method, it will be for you to exercise your reason, and in a brotherly and sisterly way point out the defects. This, I beg to say once for all, that you cannot confer a greater favour than by, now and at all times, pointing out any defect in manner, matter, or thought, which you may discover in your president and if you promise to show me this kindness, I will now frankly promise in return to render you a like service, for thus we shall “bear each other’s infirmities,” and thus fulfil one of the highest laws.

I feel how unworthy I am to occupy the position you have placed me in, but in all I say I shall endeavour to speak in the spirit so sublimely expressed by one of the most intensely true and loving of men, himself apparently an initiate, and at least illuminated with that knowledge without which there can be no comprehension of theosophy—the triune nature of man as body, soul, and spirit. This Paul of Tarsus says, when writing to those of his society then residing in the city of Corinth:—

“Though I speak with the tongues of men and angels and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal; and although I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and although I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing; and although I give all my goods to feed the poor, and although I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.”

This magnificent picture of charity or love cannot be surpassed in nobleness of expression, and I submit that our society could not do better than write it up as our initiatory rule of life.

We all, I understand, fully realise the trinity in man of body, soul, and spirit; and thus it is that our rules indicate that we shall do our best to increase our bodily health, our souls’ strength and purity, and the exaltation of the spirit; and we all, I think, thus understand that the central essence of all true religion is one and identical, namely, to evoke the hidden spiritual centre of the soul, and unite that with God.

We see this, and thus also we are able to see, that just in proportion as we descend from this sublime standpoint, and attempt to formulate our belief by symbols, or by a ritual, we encounter the danger of more or less worshipping the creature in the place of the Creator; and of descending into idolatry, dogmaitism, sectarianism, and intolerance.

* Presidential address delivered before the British Theosophical Society, January 6th, 1880.

<... continues on page 10-216 >

Editor's notes

Sources

• 

  London Spiritualist, No. 386, January 16, 1880, pp. 33-5