loftiest and sublimest, comprises the extraordinary men, who
unite in their persons the qualities of the spirit and
heart, perfected by the blessed habit of fulfilling
voluntarily and joyfully, what nature and morals impose
jointly upon reasonable beings living in society.
Imperturbable in their mode of life, like unto the sun and
the moon, the heavens and the earth, they never cease their
beneficent operations; they act by _intelligence_ and as
_spirits_ see without being seen. This class, very few in
number, can be called that of the Perfect ones, the
Saints.[550]
I have transcribed what has just been read without changing a single
word. If the reader has given to this extract the attention that it
merits, he will have seen the doctrine of Pythagoras such as I have
revealed and the important distinction between Instinct, Reason, and
Intelligence such as I have established; he will have seen the dogma
of the mysteries concerning the animistic inequality of men, of which
I have spoken, and will have easily recognized, in the right reason
which constitutes the third class according to the Chinese
theosophist, the pure reason which has directed the German philosopher
in the establishment of critical philosophy. This right reason, being
quite near to human virtues, is still very far from Wisdom which alone
leads to Truth. Nevertheless it can reach there, for nothing is
impossible for the Will of man, even as I have quite forcibly
stated[551]; but it would be necessary for that, to make acquisition
of the divine virtues, and in the same manner that one is raised from
instinct to understanding by purification, to pass from understanding
to intelligence by perfection. Lysis offers the means: it is by
knowledge of oneself that he promises to lead one to this desired end;
he assures it, he invokes the name of Pythagoras himself:
25. _I swear it by the one who in our hearts engraved
The sacred Tetrad, symbol immense and pure,
Source of Nature and model of the Gods._
Drawn on by my subject, I have forgotten to say that, according to
Porphyry, there is lacking in the Golden Verses as given by Hierocles,
two lines which ought to be placed immediately before those which open
the unitive part of the doctrine of Pythagoras called _perfection_;
these are[552]:
Πρῶτα μὲν ἐξ ὕπνοιο μελίφρονος ἐξ ὑπανίτας,
Εὖ μάλα ποιπνεύειν ὅσ’ ἐν ἤματι ἔργα τελέσσεις.
On the moment of awakening, consider calmly
What are thy duties, and what thou shouldst accomplish.
These lines, which express the general outline of this last part, are
remarkable, and one cannot conceive how Hierocles could have
overlooked or neglected them. Although, it is true, they add nothing
in the literal sense, they say much, however, in the figurative sense;
they serve as proof of the division of this poem, which Hierocles
himself has adopted without explanation. Lysis indicates quite
strongly that he is about to pass on to a new teaching: he calls the
attention of the disciple of Pythagoras to the new career which is
opened before him, and to the means of traversing it and of attaining
to the divine virtues which must crown it. This means is the knowledge
of oneself, as I have said. This knowledge, so commended by the
ancient sages, so exalted by them, which must open the avenues of all
the others and deliver to them the key of the mysteries of nature and
the doors of the Universe; this knowledge, I say, could not be exposed
unveiled at the epoch when Pythagoras lived, on account of the secrets
that it would of necessity betray. Likewise this philosopher had the
habit of proclaiming it under the emblem of the sacred Tetrad or of
the Quaternary. This is why Lysis, in invoking the name of his master,
designates it on this occasion with the most striking characteristic
of his doctrine. “I swear,” he said, “by the one who has revealed to
our soul the knowledge of the Tetrad, that source of eternal Nature”:
that is to say, I swear by the one who, teaching our soul to know
itself, has put it in condition to know all nature of which it is the
abridged image.
In many of my preceding Examinations I have already explained what
should be understood by this celebrated Tetrad, and here would perhaps
be the time to reveal its constitutive principles; but this revelation
would lead me too far. It would be necessary in order to do this, to
enter into details of the arithmological doctrine of Pythagoras which,
lacking preliminary data, would become fatiguing and unintelligible.
The language of Numbers of which this philosopher made use, following
the example of the ancient sages, seems today entirely lost. The
fragments which have come down to us serve rather to prove its
existence than to give any light upon its elements; for those who have
composed these fragments wrote in a language that they supposed
understood, in the same manner as our modern writers when they employ
algebraic terms. It would be ridiculous if one wished before having
acquired any notion concerning the value and use of the algebraic
signs, to explain a problem contained in these signs. This is,
however, what has often been done relative to the language of Numbers.
One has pretended, not only to explain it before having learned it,
but even to write of it, and has by so doing rendered it the most
lamentable thing in the world. The savants seeing it thus travestied
have justly scorned it; as their contempt was not unreasonable they
have made it reflect, by the same language upon the ancients who have
employed it. They have acted in this as in many other things; they
themselves creating the stupidity of ancient sciences and saying
afterwards: antiquity was stupid.
One day I shall try, if I find the time and the necessary facilities,
to give the true elements of the arithmological science of Pythagoras
and I will show that this science was for intelligible things what
algebra has become among us for physical things; but I shall only do
so after having revealed what the true principles of music are; for
otherwise I should run the risk of not being understood.
Without perplexing ourselves, therefore, with the constitutive
principles of the Pythagorean Quaternary, let us content ourselves
with knowing that it was the general emblem of anything moving by
itself and manifesting by its facultative modifications; for according
to Pythagoras, 1 and 2 represent the hidden principles of things; 3,
their faculties, and 4, their proper essence. These four numbers
which, united by addition produce the number 10, constituted the
Being, as much universal as particular; so that the Quaternary, which
is as its virtue, could become the emblem of all beings, since there
is none which may not recognize the principles, and which does not
manifest itself by faculties more or less perfect, and which may not
enjoy an existence universal or relative; but the being to which
Pythagoras applied it most commonly was Man. Man, as I have said,
manifests himself as does the Universe, under the three principal
modifications of body, soul, and spirit. The unknown principles of
this first Ternary are what Plato calls the _same_, and the _other_,
the _indivisible_ and the _divisible_. The indivisible principle gives
the spirit; the divisible the body; and the soul has birth from this
last principle elaborated by the first.[553] Such was the doctrine of
Pythagoras which was borrowed by Plato. It had been that of the
Egyptians, as can be seen in the works which remain to us under the
name of Hermes. Synesius, who had been initiated into their mysteries,
said particularly, that human souls emanated from two sources: the one
luminous, which flows from heaven on high; the other tenebrous, which
springs from the earth in the abysmal depths of which it finds its
origin.[554] The early Christians, faithful to theosophical tradition,
followed the same teaching; they established a great difference
between the spirit and the soul. They considered the soul as an issue
of the material principle, and in consequence being neither
enlightened nor virtuous in itself. The spirit, said Basil, is a gift
of God: it is the soul of the soul, as it were; it is united to the
soul; it enlightens it, it rescues it from earth and raises it to
heaven.[555] Beausobre, who relates these words, observes that this
sentiment was common to several Fathers of the primitive church,
particularly to Tatian.[556]
I have spoken often of this first Ternary, and even of the triple
faculties which are attached to each of its modifications; but as I
have done many times, I believe it useful to present here the
_ensemble_, so as to have the opportunity of uniting, under the same
viewpoint, the volitive unity, from which results the human
Quaternary, in general, and in the particular being, which is man.
The three faculties which, as I have said, distinguish each of the
three human modifications are: sense perception for the body,
sentiment for the soul, and assent for the spirit. These three
faculties develop instinct, understanding, and intelligence, which
produce by a common reaction, common sense, reason, and sagacity.
Instinct, placed at the lowest degree of the ontological hierarchy, is
absolutely passive; intelligence, raised to the summit, is entirely
active, and understanding placed in the centre, is neuter. Sense
perception perceives the sensations, sentiment conceives the ideas,
assent elects the thoughts; perception, conception, election are modes
of acting, of the instinct, the understanding, and the intelligence.
The understanding is the seat of all the passions that the instinct
feeds continually, excites, and tends to make unruly; and that the
intelligence purifies, tempers, and seeks always to put in harmony.
The instinct, reacted upon by the understanding, becomes common sense:
it perceives notions more or less clearly, following more or less, the
influence that it accords to the understanding. The understanding,
reacted upon by the intelligence, becomes reason: it conceives of
opinions so much the more just, as its passions are the more calm.
Reason cannot by its own movement attain to wisdom and find truth,
because being placed in the middle of a sphere and forced from there,
it describes, from the centre to the circumference, a ray always
straight and subordinate to the point of departure; it has against it
infinity, that is to say, that truth being one, and residing in a
single point of the circumference, it cannot be the subject of reason,
only as far as it is known beforehand, and as reason is placed in the
direction convenient for its encounter. Intelligence, which can only
put reason in this direction by the assent that it gives at the point
of departure, would never know this point only by wisdom which is the
fruit of inspiration: now, inspiration is the mode of acting of the
will, which joining itself to the triple Ternary, as I have just
described, constitutes the human ontological Quaternary. It is the
will which envelops the primordial Ternary in its unity, and which
determines the action of each of its faculties according to its own
mode without the will it would have no existence. The three faculties
by which the volitive unity is manifested in the triple Ternary, are
memory, judgment, and imagination. These three faculties, acting in a
homogeneous unity, have neither height nor depth and do not affect one
of the modifications of the being, any more than another; they are all
wherever the will is, and the will operates freely in the intelligence
or in the understanding; in the understanding or in the instinct:
where it wills to be there it is; its faculties follow it everywhere.
I say that it is wherever it wills to be when the being is wholly
developed; for following the course of Nature, it is first in the
instinct and only passes into the understanding and into the
intelligence successively and in proportion as the animistic and
spiritual faculties are developed. But in order that this development
may take place, the will must determine it; for without the will there
is no movement. Be assured of this. Without the operation of the will,
the soul is inert and the spirit sterile. This is the origin of that
inequality among men of which I have spoken. When the will does not
disengage itself from matter, it constitutes instinctive men; when it
is concentrated in the understanding, it produces animistic men; when
it acts in the spirit, it creates intellectual men. Its perfect
harmony in the primordial Ternary, and its action more or less
energetic in the uniformity of their faculties, equally developed,
constitute the extraordinary men endowed with sublime genius; but the
men of this fourth class which represents the autopsy of the
mysteries,[557] are extremely rare. Often it suffices for a powerful
will, acting either in the understanding or in the intelligence and
concentrating wholly there, to astonish men by the strength of
reasoning and outbursts of wisdom, which draws the name of genius
without being wholly merited. Recently there has been seen in Germany
the most extraordinary reasoning, in Kant, failing in its aim through
lack of intelligence; one has seen in the same country the most
exalted intelligence, in Boehme, giving way for want of reason. There
have been in all times and among all nations men similar to Boehme and
to Kant. These men have erred through not knowing themselves; they
have erred, through a lack of harmony that they might have been able
to acquire, if they had taken the time to perfect themselves; they
have erred, but their very error attests the force of their will. A
weak will, operating either in the understanding or in the
intelligence, makes only sensible men and men of intellect. This same
will acting in the instinct produces artful men; and if it is strong
and violently concentrated through its original attraction in this
corporal faculty, it constitutes men dangerous to society, miscreants,
and treacherous brigands.
After having applied the Pythagorean Quaternary to Man, and having
shown the intimate composition of this Being, image of the Universe,
according to the doctrine of the ancients, I ought perhaps to use all
the means in my power, in order to demonstrate with what facility the
physical and metaphysical phenomena which result from their combined
action can be deduced; but such an undertaking would necessarily draw
me into details foreign to these examinations. I must again put off
this point as I have put off many others; I will take them up in
another work, if the savants and the thinkers to whom I address myself
approve the motive which has put the pen in my hand.
26. _But before all, thy soul to its faithful duty,
Invoke these Gods with fervour, they whose aid,
Thy work begun, alone can terminate._
All the cults established upon the face of the earth have made a
religious duty of prayer. This alone would prove, if it were
necessary, what I have advanced concerning the theosophical dogma of
the volitive liberty of man; for if man were not free in his actions,
and if an irresistible fatality led him on to misfortune and to crime,
what use would be invoking the gods, imploring their assistance,
begging them to turn aside from him the evils which must inevitably
overwhelm him? If, as Epicurus taught, an impenetrable barrier
separated gods and men; if these gods, absorbed in their beatitude and
their impassive immortality, were such strangers to the evils of
humanity that they neither troubled to alleviate them nor to prevent
them, for what purpose then the incense burning at the foot of their
altars?[558]
It was, he said, on account of the excellence of their nature that he
honoured them thus, and not from any motive of hope or fear, not
expecting any good from them and not dreading any evil.[559] What
miserable sophism! How could Epicurus say such a thing before having
explained clearly and without amphibology, what the origin of good and
evil is, so as to prove that the gods indeed do not cooperate either
for the augmentation of the one, or the diminution of the other? But
Epicurus had never dreamed of giving this explanation. However little
he might have considered it, he would have seen that in whatever
fashion he had given it, it would have overthrown the doctrine of
atoms; for a sole principle, whatever it may be, cannot produce at the
same time good and evil. Nevertheless, if he has not explained this
origin, and if he has not shown in a peremptory way that we are in a
sphere where absolute evil reigns, and that consequently we can have
no sort of communication with that wherein good resides, it will
remain always evident that if we are not in such a sphere, and if we
possess a portion of good, this good must come to us from the sphere
wherein absolute good has its source. Now, this sphere is precisely
that in which Epicurus places the gods.[560] But, perhaps, a defender
of Epicurus will say, the good that we possess comes to us only once
from the divine sphere and thenceforth it comes to us no more. This is
contrary to the most intimate and most general notion that we have of
the Divinity, to that of its immutability upon which Epicurus himself
leans most, and from which it results that the gods could never be
what they have been, nor do what they have done.
In one word, just as well as in a thousand, any maker of a system is
obliged to do one of two things, either to declare himself what the
origin is of good and evil, or to admit _a priori_ the theosophical
dogma of the liberty of man. Epicurus knew this, and although this
dogma might ruin his system completely, he preferred to admit it than
expose himself to give an explanation beyond his capability and beyond
that of all men. But if man is free, he can be counselled; if he can
be counselled, it is evident that he can, even that he must, demand
counsel. This is the rational principle of prayer. Now, common sense
is the asking for counsel wiser than its own, and sagacity shows in
the Gods the source of wisdom.
Epicurus, nevertheless, denied the intervention of divine Providence
and pretended that the Gods, absorbed in their supreme felicity, do
not mingle in any affair.[561] A single question, simple and naïve,
would overthrow this assertion destitute of proofs, and besides,
inconsistent with the conduct of Greek philosophy; but I prefer to
leave this question to Bayle, who has expended much logic in
sustaining this point. This French philosopher, under pretext of
making Epicurus dispute with a polytheistic priest, advances against
Providence an argument which he believes irresistible, and which is,
indeed, one of the most subtle that one could possibly advance. “Are
the gods satisfied with their administration or are they dissatisfied?
Be mindful,” he says, “of my dilemma: if they are satisfied with what
comes to pass under their providence, they are pleased with evil; if
they are dissatisfied, they are unhappy.”[562] The manner in which
Bayle throws himself into the midst of the question, without examining
the principles of it, denounces him as a skeptic; it is necessary
therefore to use against him the weapons that I have given against
skepticism; that is, to bring him back abruptly to the principles, by
interrogating him before replying to him. It is necessary to ask him,
if he admits a difference between that which is and that which is not?
He is forced to admit it, as I have said; for in whatever region of
himself his will takes refuge, whether it exercises its judgment in
the instinct, in the understanding or in the intelligence, you will
pursue it in him opposing, in the first case, the axiom of common
sense: nothing is made from nothing; in the second, that of reason:
that which is, is; in the last, that of sagacity: everything has its
opposite and can have only one. Nothing is made from nothing therefore
that which is not, can never produce that which is. That which is, is;
therefore, that which is not, is not that which is. Everything has its
opposite and can have only one; therefore the absolute opposite of
that which is, is that which is not. If the skeptic refuses himself
the evidence of common sense, of reason and of sagacity united, he
lies to his conscience, or he is mad and then one must leave him.
The difference admitted between that which is and that which is not,
proceeds therefore against Bayle, or against those who resemble him;
ask them if man is a prey to absolute evil, whether physical or moral?
They will reply to you, no; for they will feel that if they should
respond otherwise, you would prove to them that not having the faculty
of making a difference between good and evil, nor of comparing them
together, they could never draw from this comparison their strongest
argument against Providence. They will, therefore, reply that man is
not a prey to absolute evil, but to a very great relative evil; as
great as they wish. You, nevertheless continue thus: if man is not a
prey to absolute evil, he might be, since it would suffice for this to
take away the sum of good which mitigates the evil, and which the
difference, previously established between that which is and that
which is not, teaches to distinguish. Now, this sum of good, whence
comes it? Who dispenses it? Who? If the skeptics are silent, affirm
for them that it emanates from the gods themselves and that Providence
is the dispenser. Then reply to their dilemma, and say that the gods
are content with their administration and that they have reason to be,
since by it they procure a sum of good increasing more and more, for
the beings which without Providence would never know it; and that
their Providence, which has mitigated evil from its origin, mitigates
it still and will mitigate it to its end; and if the astonished
skeptics object that Providence takes a great deal of time to make
what should be made in an instant, reply to them that it is not a
question of knowing how nor why it makes things, but only that it
makes them; which is proved by the overthrow of their dilemma; and
which, after all, is saying with more reason in this circumstance than
in any other, that time has nothing to do with the affair, since it is
nothing to Providence, although for us it may be much.
And if, continuing to draw inferences from your reasoning, the
skeptics say to you that, according to the continual effusion of good
which you establish, the sum ought to be daily augmented, whilst that
of evil, diminishing in the same proportion, ought at last to
disappear wholly, which they cannot believe; reply, that the
inferences of a reasoning which confounds theirs are at their
disposal; that they can deduce from them as much as they wish; without
engaging you, for that matter, to discuss the extent of their view,
either in the past, or in the future, because each one has his own;
that, besides, you owe it to truth to teach them that the dogma, by
means of which you have ruined the laborious structure of their logic,
is no other than a theosophical tradition, universally received from
one end of the earth to the other, as it is easy to prove to them.
Open the sacred books of the Chinese, the Burmans, Indians, and
Persians, you will find there the unequivocal traces of this dogma.
Here, it is Providence represented under the traits of a celestial
virgin, who, sent by the Supreme Being, furnished arms to combat and
to subjugate the genius of evil, and to bring to perfection everything
that it had corrupted.[563] There, it is the Universe itself and the
Worlds which compose it, which are signalized as the instrument
employed by this same Providence to attain this end.[564] Such was the
secret doctrine of the mysteries.[565] Good and Evil were represented
in the sanctuaries under the emblems of light and darkness: the
formidable spectacle of the combat between these two opposed
principles was given there to the initiate; and after many scenes of
terror, the most obscure night was insensibly succeeded by the purest
and most brilliant day.[566] It was exactly this that Zoroaster had
publicly taught.