HPB-SB-11-246

H. P. Blavatsky Scrapbooks

from Adyar archives of the International Theosophical Society

T i

vol. 11, p. 246

vol. 11

page 246

 

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eng • рус

< The “Occult World,” by A.P. Sinnett* (continued from page 11-245.1) >

the interest of readers and of the subject, to expose the folly and the vanity of some of these eager, conceited people, who have sat in judgment upon matters upon which they are not qualified to pronounce opinion. Nature, adducing against them their own writing as witness, has not accorded this gift to them.

Old-fashioned magic, by which we mean real magic, has gone long ago. It was a lost case with It when Addison began to write his Spectator. The man was far too sensible. Was that tranquil, philosophical mind to be disturbed by magic? Certainly not Sentimental common-sense, considerable elegance, combined with an expatiating feeble hum our was his line. Miracle has gone. Consequently the true springs of the Christian Religion—which is miracle all over, or nothing—have gone with it. It is a pity on many accounts. For have we gained in its dismissal? We think not. The “Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge,” the “Penny Magazine,” the “Saturday Magazine,” that “Schoolmaster” who has always been “abroad.” and has never yet been “at home.” the Chief Reviews in their bragging, audacious ways, Church Charges in their elaborate, cut-and-dry naturalness, the talkativeness of innumerable busy Church defenders, the smoothing-out of the wrinkles in the ploughed heart of the people by the comfortable warm flat iron of those classes “put in authority” over us in the “Church,” the well-meant efforts to “coddle” the National Church, lastly the Newspapers, bringing their incessant bolsters and props to the Church Anglican—to keep all quiet—have driven off the supernatural in the making of everything so supremely human. Now everything is natural. Man is so very natural. Nature is so very natural. Everything is so really real. We only think strange thoughts when we are “not right.” We only see strange things when we are unwell, or when the mind begins to oscillate. Hеnсе, we repeat, that as the belief in miracle is vanished, that the idea of magic in this age has become an impossible thing, that Christianity, in its true senses, has ceased to be a thing of any other life than of a false, forced life, that this book will cause wonder. But wonder of what sort? You cannot take half-measures with such a production. It is either true, or it is not true. No one will for a moment doubt that it is not true in the impressions of Mr. A. P. Sinnett. But the public will doubt whether ho be not himself deceived. And this, because he relates gravely some of the most stupendous impossibilities—as they appear.

We have said of this book that it will make people uncomfortable. We further add the assertion now, that it will make everybody very uncomfortable. But this is always a good sign in a book. It indicates power, and power just in-proportion to the stir and disturbance of mind which we experience whoa we read the book. We shall think the higher of every reader’s capacity when we find that such is the case in regard of this buck—which is undoubtedly one of the most extraordinary books which we have ever read. The vast majority of readers, who from the influences of the world are very incapable, will first be enforced into attention in a thrill of wonder; and then they will laugh, for the things which they at first encounter contradict possibility, and although many things are difficult to explain— still possibility is the measure of everything. The world of ordinary life it not the life of the “Arabian Nights.” Readers who read in this spirit of incredulity, which however they cannot help—belief is always proportioned to the calibre of the means of belief—will pity the author, and say with the Athenæum that it is a “disappointing book,” though not for the same silly reasons. The minority will read carefully over every page, will set to work to judge of the whole book, and admire the whole volume and its author immensely. For it is a tremendous book—strangely as it sounds to use such a word in relation to it. Yet this is & true character to give of the book. It is a tremendous book in its import, in its suggestion co those who can understand it, and those few must be the gifted. As for the reviewers in their various degrees and “crafts,” they will very cunningly and very clumsily, in preponderating instances, cutup, or take no notice of the volume. These sublime editorial occupants of cane-back chairs, wooden arm-chairs, or velvet-covered magisterial arm-chairs perhaps with a crown a top, if they do not yawn, are safe to get angry with the “Occult World.” In regard to its important contents, the “Occult World” ought to be for them, for their claims to learning and enlightenment are overpowering; but yet it is far from being a book for them.

Mr. A. P. Sinnett’s book is intensely interesting to all persons who can think. It is brightly, lucidly, logically written—cool-headed, perfectly dispassionate. It has startled all mentally cultivated India; dense and stupid at its reception has been in its author's own country of England. Perhaps it is because England has been so exceedingly bothered and hazed with Spiritualism—vulgar Spiritualism, preposterous Spiritualism:—until the very term Spiritualism and mediums—ordinary pragmatical mediums—bare become annoyance. Now, on the contrary to all these indifferently educated pretenders—who make-up in noise and pretension what they are deficient in, in reason—Mr. A. P. Sinnett is always as agreeable as he is forcible. This is the work of a scholar, a gentlemen, and of a man of a large and elevated mind, evidently capable and qualified. He is fitted, from much evidence afforded in his book, for the exercise of public duties of a high and important character. We should consider public India benefitted in his presence, and his connection with state functions, advantageous in every way both to India and to England. Anglo-lndia must have been much struck with this book. We ourselves have perused every line of it with pleasure, and hare weighed its statements, and considered its evidence, with careful and conscientious deliberation. We aver that the “Occult World” is a great book, and warn every reasonable person, not quite given-over to prejudice, against the clamour which will be mode against it, and the jeering tone in which it will be treated. Who are the people who sit so superior to these ultra-natural subjects? Mostly zanies— wind-bags—imitators. We warn all the judicious against the ignorant and conceited attacks which have been made on all sides by an unworthy and envious press writing to the order of the day, and to please certain cliques which sit-upon and stifle all honest opinion. The modern Press has grown so tumid and artificial that it is fast ruining even the public capacity to judge of wholesome and genuine criticism. Perhaps farther, it has so seriously imperilled, even for rescue by gifted and magnanimous minds, the snail remainder of capacities, as Mr. Ruskin might call them, of the studying classes still existent and struggling amidst the confusions of a shallow, log-headed, and grossly-selfish age.

— “Pleased with rattles and tickled with straws,”— whether political rattles, scientific rattles, or literary or artistic rattles or Jingles, and this in all the grades of society, high and low.

The “Occult World” regarded from any point of view is equal to its object—which is certainly the most difficult one. Indeed it may be called the most remarkable book—not simply from its nowness, but from the manner in which its newness is put— which has appeared since Mr. Spicer produced bis “Sights and Sounds, the Mystery of the Day.” And why does Mr. A P. Sinnett’s “Occult World” stand so alone? Let every person accustomed to exercise their common-sense apart from the ideas of others read it. Let them not only read it, but study it. For why? For these reasons which may be pronounced significant and cogent enough by all persons who are not of that powerless sort of compliance of brain which will admit the dicta of pretentious journals as so much unquestionable law. God knows that a great deal of law!—far from being justice— is not to be believed. And nearly all the literary criticisms of the time may be pronounced—to use the strong, but the true word—humbug—from the reason that it is written all round and round the subject without touching it. In regard to Mr. A. P. Sinnett’s book, two reviews which we have encountered, (the “Athenæum,” and the “Saturday Review,”) and which, owing to the extraordinary superstition—utterly mistaken—which prevails as to their authority, might be regarded as intimating consequence and implying knowledge and good criticism—these are very bad—jokingly bad, superficially bed, as if the whole subject was wonderfully under the editors and only condescended to by them. These publications (still as, in their shallowness, they consider the public interest) have done their very best to ruin the “Occult World,” and to impair any chance of its success. All this is of course done literarily—always studying the interests of the great reading public, and watching with (grandmotherly) care its pabulum. The great comfortable public shall have its quiet nights—

“Such things cannot be; nor shall they overcome us, Nor shall wo foci special wonder.”

In the examination of this serious book, the eyeglass of literary foppery has been used, and the double-glasses, dull, parblind, owlish, and the academically (of course) critical specta-<... continues on page 11-247 >