In order to carry out his plan of building a town in which neither

spirits nor tobacco should be sold, and which should be inhabited only

by Sionists, it was necessary that all the land should belong to him,

and he had to reckon with the probably exorbitant demands of the

sellers. To circumvent these his real intentions had to be hidden, and

with the help of his faithful auxiliaries this was successfully

accomplished.

I do not know what has become of Sionism during recent years. Will the

dynasty be continued after the reign of John Dowie by that of his son

William Gladstone Dowie; or will the death of the prophet, as stated by

those who have seen the eclipse of other stars of first magnitude, be

the signal for the dissolution of the sect?

What matters, however, is the genesis and not the duration of an

enchantment which has united around one central figure, so many

thousands who thirsted for the simultaneous salvation of their souls

and of their purses.

CHAPTER III

THE ADEPTS OF THE SUN OF SUNS

Nearly all Communistic theories when applied in practice prove

failures, but there seems to be one infallible safeguard--that supplied

by religion. Faith, when mingled with the trials and disenchantments

of life, appears to mitigate them, and communal experiments based on

religious beliefs nearly always prosper. This applies to the

half-religious, half-communal sects of modern Russia, and the principle

has also been adopted by the American apostles of communism.

One of these, Dr. Teed of Chicago, understood it well, and his sect

was, in fact, merely a religious sect based on the principle of

communal possessions. Its adherents took the name of _Koreshans_,

after the title _Koresh_ (or the sun) boasted by its founder. He,

_Koresh_, "Light of Lights," "Sun of Suns," was called by Heaven to

teach the truth to mortals, and to show them which road to eternal

salvation they should follow in order to prosper upon earth. Founded

in Chicago, the sect moved recently to Florida, and there, from day to

day, Teed had the satisfaction of seeing the number of believers

steadily increase.

He had at first to put up with a good deal of ridicule, for his

teaching, based upon that of Fourier, and incorporating some of the

mystical ideas of Swedenborg, was not at all to the taste of his

fellow-citizens. The doctor then evolved the brilliant idea of

dividing his system into two doctrines--the way to heaven, or the

mystical doctrine; and the way to earthly prosperity, or the economic

doctrine. It was permissible to follow the second without adopting the

first, and the result may easily be guessed. Attracted by the prospect

of terrestrial benefits, believers flocked to the fold, and invariably

ended by accepting the second half of the teaching also (the mystical

doctrine), all the more willingly because their material happiness and

prosperity depended on the degree of their "union" with the founder.

The mysticism of _Koresh_ had some novel features, for the American

doctor saw the wisdom of making use of some of the prestige lately

gained by science. His religion, consequently, was essentially

scientific. He, _Koresh_, was the "unique man," who, thanks to his

"scientific studies" and to "celestial inspiration," could understand

the mysteries of nature. He had reached the summit of scientific

knowledge and the greatest possible human perfection--that is to say,

"sainthood"--and all who approached him were made participators in his

"holiness." Thanks to this gift, pertaining only to _Koresh_, his

followers could "enjoy the bliss of heaven upon earth"; for the Kingdom

of God upon earth was near at hand, and _Koreshism_ was preparing the

way for its disciples.

But what had to be done in order to attain the higher degrees of

salvation? Teed was a sufficiently clever psychologist to know that

nothing fascinates the crowd so much as mysteries and things that

cannot be understood, and he acted accordingly.

His doctrine is so obscure that only those claiming divine illumination

could hope to find their way amid its cloudy precepts. Let us give an

example:--

"In recognition of the principal source of the force of the intrinsic

and innate life of the Christian revelation, the _Koreshan_ doctrine

elevates the founder of Christianity to the place of father, become

perfect, thanks to the sacrifice of his son, which it has been given to

us to understand by the flesh of Jehovah."

The believers could give it whatever meaning they liked, and for those

who despaired of understanding this part of the _Koreshan_ revelation,

the prophet kept in reserve thousands of other dogmas, all equally

enigmatic and equally obscure. We will not attempt to discuss them!

The teaching included the attainment of perfection through marriage,

and claimed omniscience for _Koreshism_, which could throw new light

upon all things, including such subjects as astronomy and philosophy.

The earth is not round, light is not diffused, as science teaches, and

man has not five senses, but seven--so said _Koresh_. He described his

doctrine as communistic and co-operative. The use of money was

forbidden, its place being taken by cheques representing the amount of

services rendered to the community.

The colony founded at Estero, in Florida, was almost exclusively

commercial and industrial, not agricultural like most communal

settlements. Electric railways and factories were built--and are still

being built--there, for steam, like money, is banned in the colony of

_Koresh_; while being in possession of a seaport, the _Koreshans_

propose to enter into commercial relationship with the whole world.

The Bureau of Equitable Commerce directs the business affairs of the

community, and at its head is the chief of the Commonwealth (or public

fortune). All the inhabitants share in the general prosperity, and in

order to prevent the more capable individuals from developing into

capitalists, the fortunes of all are carefully equalised by means of a

progressive tax upon income. The land belongs to all, and is

non-transferable, like the factories. No payment is demanded of

new-comers; it is enough if they bring the moral capital of an

irreproachable life, and are good workers; and any poor people who

desire to seek salvation in the colony are enabled to travel to it by

contributions from the public funds. Absolute tolerance of all beliefs

forms the spiritual basis of the sect.

New Jerusalem, the capital of the colony, covers about eighty-six

square miles, having streets four hundred feet in width, and separate

industrial quarters. The business affairs of the community are

undeniably prosperous.

B. RELIGION AND MIRACLES

"O men born upon earth, why abandon yourselves to death, when you are

permitted to obtain immortality?"

HERMES TRISMEGISTUS.

CHAPTER I

THE CHRISTIAN SCIENTISTS

The marriage between Science and the Bible, brought about by Mary Baker

Eddy, has given birth to a most prosperous sect. In this amalgam, the

Christianity is not of the purest, and the Science appears rather in

the form of the negation of its own principles; but so great is

humanity's desire for the union of revelation and experience that

believers crowd from all parts to range themselves behind the hew

banner.

There is something almost disconcerting in the ardour and devotion of

Mrs. Eddy's followers. Truly, in the success of Christian Science we

see one more proof of the ease with which a new religion can be started

if, in addition to faith, it concerns itself with man's earthly welfare.

The founder of the sect was a clever woman. Well aware of the power

and fascination of the mysterious, she exploited it with a profound

understanding of the human heart. She mingled the realities of life

with the mysteries of thought, and the sun of her revelations is always

veiled by intangible clouds. From her gospel one might cull at random

scores of phrases that defy human understanding. "Evil is nothing, no

thing, mind or power," she says in _Science and Health_. "As

manifested by mankind, it stands for a lie, nothing claiming to be

something." And again--"Mortal existence has no real entity, but saith

'It is I.'"

The nonsensicalness of her phraseology can find no comparison save in

the inconceivable chaos of her teachings. She goes so far as to imply

that the supreme effort of a woman's spirit should suffice to bring

about conception. Jesus Christ having been conceived of the Holy

Ghost, she suggests that man should follow this example, and renounce

the lusts of the flesh. "Proportionately as human generation ceases,

the unbroken links of eternal, harmonious being will be spiritually

discerned"--and in another place, "When this new birth takes place, the

Christian Science infant is born of the spirit, born of God, and can

cause the mother no more suffering."

In the explanations of the Bible given in her _Key to the Scriptures_

we are told that when we come upon the word "fire," we are to translate

it as "fear," and the word "fear" as "heat"; while we must remember

that Eve never put the blame for her sin upon the serpent, but, having

"learnt that corporeal sense is the serpent," she was the first to

confess her misdeed in having followed the dictates of the flesh

instead of those of the spirit.

Like all prophets and saviours, Mrs. Eddy was crucified during her

lifetime. She had to engage in a continuous struggle with the envy and

jealousy of those who sought to misrepresent her teachings and bring

her glory to the dust. But she was far from being an ordinary woman,

and even in childhood seemed to be marked out for an exceptional

career. At the age of eight, like Joan of Arc, she heard mysterious

voices, and her mother, who was of Scottish origin and subject to

"attacks of religion," remembered the story of the Infant Samuel and

encouraged her to speak with the Lord. But Mary was alarmed by the

voices, and wept and trembled, instead of replying to them like a good

child.

About her forty-fifth year, however, being in the grip of a serious

illness, she did hold converse with the Lord, who told her how she

might be cured. She listened and obeyed, and was cured. This was her

"great initiation." She then retired from the world, and spent several

years engaged in meditation and prayer, while her study of the Bible

revealed to her the key to all mysteries, human and divine.

The deductions of her philosophy are often characterised by an

astonishing naivete. "God being All-in-all, He made medicine," she

tells us; "but that medicine was Mind. . . . It is plain that God does

not employ drugs or hygiene, nor provide them for human use; else Jesus

would have recommended and employed them in His healing."

She frequently makes use of ingenious statements whose very candour is

disarming, but she had considerable dialectical gifts, and can argue

persuasively, especially against spiritualism. In _Science and Health_

she violently denies the authenticity of spiritualistic phenomena, "As

readily can you mingle fire and frost as spirit and matter. . . . The

belief that material bodies return to dust, hereafter to rise up as

spiritual bodies with material sensations and desires, is

incorrect. . . . The caterpillar, transformed into a beautiful insect,

is no longer a worm, nor does the insect return to fraternise with or

control the worm. . . . There is no bridge across the gulf which

divides two such opposite conditions as the spiritual, or incorporeal,

and the physical, or corporeal."

In the confusion of precepts and principles championed by Mrs. Eddy

there are sometimes to be found thoughts worthy of a great

metaphysician. Her teaching, when purified from admixture, does at any

rate break away energetically from all materialistic doctrines.

Her literary output was considerable, for in addition to her gospel,

_Science and Health_, she wrote _The Concordance of Science and

Health_, _Rudimentary Divine Science_, _Christian Science versus

Paganism_, and other works, including some verse.

The Christian Science churches, with their adherents, who number more

than a million, are spread all over the world, each having an

independent existence. They are found chiefly in the United States,

England, Germany, and the British Colonies. The number of "healers"

exceeds several thousands, for the most part of the female sex. In

France the first "Church of Christ, Scientist" has been founded in

Paris, in the Rue Magellan, under the name of Washington Palace.

The Christian Science leader denounced the established churches and

spared them no criticism, and her doctrine contained a seed of truth

which enabled it to triumph even over its own lack of logic and

coherence.

The world, submerged in matter, either denies spirit or turns away from

it. Mrs. Eddy exalts the power of spirit above that of matter, the

universal goddess, by means of statements which are heroic rather than

scientific.

Matter does not exist. God is all, and God is spirit; therefore all is

spirit. Matter is not spirit, but is a fiction which only exists for

those who persist in believing in it against the evidence of facts. As

matter does not exist, and is only a lie and the invention of Satan,

the body, which we see in the form of matter, does not exist either.

The suffering caused by the body is simply an "error of mortal mind,"

for since the body does not exist, there can be no such thing as bodily

suffering. Therefore instead of concerning ourselves with the healing

of the supposed body, with the prevention or cure of pain and

suffering, we must go straight to spirit. Spirit is perfect, and the

thought of pain or disease can have no place in it. Let us then leave

the curing of our bodies, and seek to rectify our spirits.

Doctors and surgeons, on the contrary, follow the errors of centuries

in concerning themselves with the body, and causing it to absorb drugs

which, having no connection with disease, can neither cure nor relieve

it. "Mind as far outweighs drugs in the cure of disease as in the cure

of sin. The more excellent way is divine Science in every case. . . .

The hosts of Aesculapius are flooding the world with diseases, because

they are ignorant that the human mind and body are myths."

A follower of the "true doctrine," according to Mrs. Eddy, is never ill

for the simple reason that he does not believe in the body or in any of

its infirmities. If he should be overtaken by illness, it is because

his spirit is ill, and his faith not sufficiently pure.

From this results a very simple method of healing. The "healer" merely

seeks to re-establish the faith of the sufferer, and to convince him of

the non-reality of his illness. No medicine is given, the treatment

consisting of thoughts and suggestions from _Science and Health_.

Christian Science healers need to have a robust and unshakable faith,

for if they do not succeed in their task it is because their own spirit

has been infected by doubt.

Mrs. Eddy declared that our concrete and practical age required, above

all, a religion of reality; that men could no longer be content with

vague promises of future bliss. What they needed was a religion of the

present that would end their sufferings and procure for them serenity

and happiness on earth. The title of "applied Christianity" has been

adopted by Christian Science, which advises us to make use of the

teachings of Jesus in our daily life, and to reap all the advantages of

such a practice. We have need of truth "applied" to life just as we

have need of telegraphs, telephones and electric apparatus, and

now--say the Scientists--for the first time in man's existence he is

offered a really practical religious machinery, which enables him to

overcome misfortune and to establish his happiness, his health, and his

salvation on a solid basis.

The Scientists claim to have recourse to the same spiritual law by

means of which Jesus effected His cures, and they declare that its

efficacy is undeniable, since all Mrs. Eddy's pupils who use it are

able to heal the sick. One may suggest that Jesus performed miracles

because He was the Saviour of the world. Mrs. Eddy replies that

statements are attributed to Him which never issued from His lips; that

He said (in the Gospel according to St. John) that it was not He who

spoke or acted, but His Father; and stated elsewhere, that the Son

could do nothing of Himself. Also that Jesus never sent His disciples

forth to preach without adding that they should also heal. "Heal the

sick," was His supreme command. And that He never counselled the use

of drugs or medicines.

The healing of the sick, according to Mrs. Eddy, was one of the chief

functions of the representatives of the Church during the first three

centuries of Christianity, her subsequent loss of importance and power

being largely due to the renunciation of this essential principle.

Healing is not miraculous, but merely the result of a normal spiritual

law acting in conformity with the Divine Will. The leader of the new

"Scientists" explains that Jesus had no supernatural powers, and that

all He did was done according to natural law. Consequently everybody,

when once brought into harmony with spiritual truth, can accomplish

what He accomplished.

Some of Mrs. Eddy's statements have an undeniable practical value. For

instance, she attacks "fear" as one of the chief causes of human

misery, and declares that it is wrong to fear draughts of air, or wet

feet, or the eating and drinking of certain substances--and wrong,

above all, to fear microbes.

But exaggeration is always harmful. The total suppression of fear

would mean the suppression of often necessary and desirable

precautions. In order to succeed, however, a religion has need of the

absolute, for conditional truths are not likely to impress the public;

and the founder of Christian Science was well aware of this.

Health, according to the Scientists, is truth. In order to enjoy

existence, we must live in the truth and avoid sin, and ultimately

death itself will disappear, being entirely superfluous. Jesus said

that whoso believed on Him should never see death, and He would not

have said this if death were necessary for salvation. Therefore

believers are taught that humanity will in time conquer sickness and

death, and that this blessed consummation will be reached when human

beings attain to the heights of the Christian Science "gospel," and are

guided by it in all the thoughts and actions of their everyday life.

Other equally enchanting prospects are conjured up, like mirages in the

desert, before the dazzled eyes of Mrs. Eddy's followers. Making use

of the ancient conception of angels, she teaches that such beings are

always close at hand, for angels are "God's thoughts passing to man;

spiritual intuitions, pure and perfect." "These angels of His

presence . . . abound in the spiritual atmosphere of Mind."

Thus Christian Science is seen to be a religion of health, longevity

and happiness, the fruits of spiritual action; a religion which denies

both the theoretical and practical existence of matter.

There are, however, occasions when the invocations of "science" prove

powerless to deal with rebellious matter. But this does not embarrass

Mrs. Eddy. She considers that her doctrine is in advance of the age,

and that men themselves must progress in order to rise to its level.

Their spirits will then become pure and perfect, and matter will have

no more power over them. Man will be able to live quite differently,

for hygienic conditions--even those considered most indispensable--will

no longer be of any importance.

One of the most irresistible attractions of Christian Science lies in

its declaration that it will be possible at some future time to

overcome death--a dream that has been known in all epochs. Yet, for

all our love of life, how unprofitably we squander it! Our normal life

could be prolonged to a hundred and fifty, or even two hundred

years,[1] but we have stupidly imposed upon ourselves an artificial

barrier which we scarcely ever surpass!

Mrs. Eddy knew well what charm the possibility of destroying the "King

of Terrors" would add to her doctrine, and she made effective use of it.

We may note that the idea of overcoming death can be traced back for

some three thousand years or so. Hermes, the "Thrice Greatest One,"

taught that only "by error" had death become installed upon our planet,

and that nothing in the world could ever be lost. "Death does not

exist; the word 'mortal' is void of meaning, and is merely the word

'immortal' without its first syllable." He taught further that the

world was the second God, immortal and alive, and that no part of it

could ever die; that "the eternal" and "the immortal" must not be

confused, for "the eternal" was God Uncreate, while the world which He

had created and made in His own image was endowed with His immortality.

Hermes also suggested that it was only necessary to send our bodily

sensations to sleep in order to awake in God and rejoice in immortality!

There was a close relationship between Hermes, the Essenes of Egypt,

and St. John, the author of _Revelation_. Indeed, if we search

carefully, we find that the Gnostics of every school believed in the

possibility of banishing death from the earth.

"Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never

thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of

water springing up into everlasting life." (St. John iv. 14).

And what superiority over the claims of Mrs. Eddy is shown by Hermes,

when he declares that in order to reach the spiritual worlds we only

need to free ourselves from sensation!

Unsuspected sources of inspiration, as yet unutilised, abound in the

writings of the Pythagoreans, the Essenes, and even the Neo-Platonists.

The creators of future religions are likely to draw much water from

these wells, but Christian Science can lay claim to be the first to

have made use of the mysticism of the past in a practical fashion, so

that its adherents rejoice in the prospect of endless life, even as did

the visionaries of former ages.

When one examines the doctrine closely, its lack of originality becomes

apparent. The idea that matter does not exist has had numerous

protagonists in the realms of philosophy, and is ardently defended by

Berkeley. In the dialogues of Hylas and Philonous, the latter speaks

of the "absolute impossibility" of matter, which has no existence apart

from spirit. But Mrs. Eddy succeeded in giving this purely

metaphysical conception a concrete value in the affairs of every-day

life.

She opened the first _School of Christian Science Mind-healing_ in 1867

with one student; towards the end of the century her followers numbered

close on a hundred thousand; while to-day the "Mother Church" can boast

over a million adherents, to say nothing of its financial resources.

Without doubt suggestion is the basis of the miraculous cures which are

the pride of Christian Science, but the prophetess and her followers

have always denied this. As Jesus ignored the power of suggestion,

they also must not only ignore it, but wage merciless war upon it.

They deny both suggestion and matter, while making use of each--but

neither the use of suggestion nor the doctrine of the non-existence of

matter could alone or together have procured for the new sect its truly

phenomenal success. That is due largely to ingenious methods of

publicity, on the most modern lines (and is not advertisement itself

one of the most effective forms of suggestion?). When one miraculous

cure after another was announced, money flowed in, and Mrs. Eddy made

use of it to increase the numbers of believers. Adapting herself to

the mentality of her hearers, or readers, she demanded large fees for

the manifestations of the "spirit" which was incarnated in herself and

her helpers, and left behind her when she died, an immense personal

fortune, and hundreds of prosperous churches. "Matter" does not seem

to be altogether negligible, even for pure spirits who do not believe

in its existence, and consider it an invention of the devil!

[1] See _La Philosophie de la Longevite_ (Bibliotheque de Philosophie

Contemporaine, Felix Alcan, 12th edition), by Jean Finot.

CHAPTER II

SCHLATTER, THE MIRACLE-MAN

The town of Denver, the "pearl of Colorado," was _en fete_. Hundreds

of thousands of pilgrims were flocking to it from all parts of America,

and all, immediately they arrived, made straight for the house of

Alderman Fox, where dwelt Francis Schlatter, the greatest

miracle-worker of the century. For two months Denver was able to

contemplate an unparalleled variety of invalids with illnesses both

rare and common, all--or nearly all--of whom departed reassured as to

their progress, if not completely cured. The trains were overcrowded,

the hotels overflowed with visitors, and all the States rang with hymns

of praise in honour of Schlatter, the saint of Denver.

But perpetual joy is not of this world. On the 14th of November, 1895,

there were still thousands of people outside Alderman Fox's house, but

their grief and despair were pitiable to witness. The women sobbed,

the men cursed, and all this, mingled with the woeful complaints of the

sick, created an extraordinary atmosphere in the usually gay and

cheerful town.

The cause of it was that Saint Schlatter had fled from Colorado without

warning in the night--whether for a short time or for ever nobody knew.

The news spread far and wide, the affair assumed the proportions of a

public calamity, and the _Rocky Morning News_ and other Colorado

journals shed copious tears over the sad lot of the abandoned pilgrims.

Even the American newspapers, which so often foresee events that never

happen, had not been able to foresee this thunderbolt that had

descended in the midst of their readers.

On the previous day the saint had, as usual, given his blessing to the

thousands of pilgrims gathered from all quarters, and had appeared to

be in his customary state of serene kindliness. Nothing had suggested

his desertion--for the disappointed crowds considered it a desertion

indeed. Even Alderman Fox, deeply troubled as he was, could offer no

consolation to his fellow-citizens. He, who was formerly stone-deaf,

had gone one day to see Schlatter at Omaha, and when the latter took

his hand his deafness had completely disappeared. Full of gratitude,

he offered Schlatter a large sum of money, which was refused. He then

offered the hospitality of his house at Denver, and this being

accepted, Schlatter arrived there, preceded by the glory of his saintly

reputation and his miraculous cures. Two months passed thus, and never

had prophet a more devoted and enthusiastic disciple than the worthy

alderman of Colorado's capital city. Then fell the blow!

When Alderman Fox had entered his guest's room the night before, the

bed was empty. Dressed just as he had arrived, in his unique costume,

Schlatter had disappeared, leaving behind him as sole trace of his

visit this message:--"Mr. Fox--my mission is ended, and the Father

calls me. I salute you. Francis Schlatter. November 13th."

After that he was sought for in vain. He who "intoxicated the weak

soul of the people"--to quote one of the Colorado clergy--and made the

land of sin ring with songs of heavenly triumph, had completely

disappeared. In the words of another of them, "the plant that had

grown up in barren soil was withered away by the wrath of God."

But the grief of those who had believed in him lasted for many years.

Schlatter was born in Alsace in 1855, and after his arrival in America

he followed many avocations, finally adopting that of a "holy man."

With head and feet bare, he traversed the States from one end to

another, and proclaimed himself a messenger of heaven. He preached the

love of God and peace among men. He was imprisoned, and continued to

preach, and though his fellow-prisoners at first mocked at him, they

ended by listening.

He only had to place his hand on the heads of the sick, and they were

cured. After being released from prison, he went to Texas. His

peculiar dress, bare feet, and long hair framing a face which seemed

indeed to be illuminated from within, drew crowds to follow him, and he

was looked upon as Elijah come to life again.

"Hearken and come to me," he said. "I am only a humble messenger sent

by my Heavenly Father."

And thousands came. He cured the incurable, and consoled the

inconsolable. Once he was shut up in a mad-house, but emerged more

popular than ever. Then he went on a pilgrimage through the towns of

Mexico, preaching his "Father's" word among the adulterers of goods and

the Worshippers of the Golden Calf. An object of reverence and

admiration, he blessed the children and rained miracles upon the heads

of the sick, finally arriving at San Francisco in 1894. From there,

still on foot and bare-headed, he crossed the Mohave Desert, spent

several weeks at Flagstaff, and then continued his wanderings among the

Indian tribes. They recognised his saintliness and came out in crowds

to meet him, amazed at the power of the Lord as manifested by him. He

spent five days in the company of the chief of the Navajos, performing

many miracles, and filling with wonder the simple souls who crowded

round to touch his hands. After having traversed several other

districts, he stopped at Denver, which became his favourite residence.

In this paradise of the New World his most startling miracles took

place. It became known as his special town, and from all parts there

flocked to it believers and unbelievers, good, bad and indifferent,

attracted by the fame of the heavenly messenger. Women and men

followed in his train, expressing their admiration and gratitude; even

the reporters who came to interview him were impressed by his

simplicity, and described in glowing terms the miracles accomplished by

the "prophet of Denver."

The American journals which thus put themselves at his service throw a

strange light upon this twentieth-century saint. For Schlatter the

Silent, as some called him, only became eloquent when in the presence

of newspaper reporters. He took heed to "sin not with his tongue," as

the psalmist sings, and "kept his mouth with a bridle" and "held his

peace," as long as "the wicked" were before him; but when confronted by

reporters his thoughts became articulate, and it is only through them

that his simple "Gospel" has been handed down to us. "I am nothing,"

he would say to them. "My Father is all. Have faith in Him, and all

will be well." Or--"My Father can replace a pair of diseased lungs as

easily as He can cure rheumatism. He has only to will, and the sick

man becomes well or the healthy one ill. You ask me in what does my

power consist. It is nothing--it is His will that is everything."

One day when a crowd of several thousands was pressing round him,

Schlatter addressed a man in his vicinity.

"Depart!" he said to him, with a violence that startled all who heard.

"Depart from Denver; you are a murderer!"

The man fled, and the crowd applauded the "saint," remarking that "it

was not in his power to heal the wicked."

Faith in him spread even to the railway companies of New Mexico, for

one day there appeared a placard of the Union Pacific Railway stating

that those of the employees, or their families, who wished to consult

Schlatter would be given their permits and their regular holiday.

Following on this announcement, the _Omaha World Herald_ describes the

impressive spectacle of the thousands of men, women and children,

belonging to all grades of the railway administration, who went to the

holy man of Denver to ask pardon for their sins, or to be healed of

their diseases.

Thus did the transport systems, combined with the newspapers, pay

homage to the exploits of the new prophet.

And still the miracles continued. The blind saw, the deaf heard, and

the cripples walked. The lamp of faith lighted in New Mexico threw its

beams over the whole of America, and the remarkable charm of

Schlatter's personality influenced even the most incredulous.

The fame of his deeds reached Europe, and some of the English papers

told of cures so marvellous that New Mexico bade fair to become the

refuge of all the incurables in the world.

In the _Omaha World Herald_ a long article by General Test was

published, in which he said: "All those who approach him find

consolation and help. Dr. Keithley has been cured of deafness. . . .

I have used spectacles for many years, but a touch of his hand was

enough to make me have need of them no longer."

One of the officials of the Union Pacific Railway, a Mr. Sutherland,

after an accident, could neither walk nor move his limbs. He was taken

to Denver, and returned completely cured, not only of his inability to

walk, but also of deafness that had troubled him for fifteen years.

A Mr. Stewart, who had been deaf for twenty years, was also completely

cured by the saint. Nothing seemed able to resist his miraculous

powers. Blindness, diphtheria, phthisis, all disappeared like magic at

the touch of his hand; and gloves that he had worn proved equally

efficacious.

A Mrs. Snook, of North Denver, had suffered from cancer for some

months, when, worn out by pain, she sent to the holy man for the loan

of one of his gloves. He sent her two, saying that she would be

cured--and she was cured. The same thing happened with John Davidson

of 17th Street, Denver; with Colonel Powers of Georgetown; and a dozen

others, all of whom had suffered for years from more or less incurable

maladies.

An engineer named Morris was cured of cataract instantaneously. A

totally blind wood-cutter was able to distinguish colours after being

touched by Schlatter. A Mrs. Holmes of Havelock, Nebraska, had tumours

under the eyes. She pressed them with a glove given her by the

prophet, and they disappeared. (This case is reported in the _Denver

News_ of November 12th, 1895.)

Gloves began to arrive from all parts, and lay in mountains on

Schlatter's doorstep. He touched them with his hand, and distributed

them to the crowd. _Faith_ being the sole cause of the cures, it was

unnecessary, he said, to lay hands on the sick. When he did so, it was

only in order to impress the souls of those who had need of this outer

sign in order to enjoy the benefits sent them by the Father through His

intermediary. This explains how Schlatter was able to treat from three

to five thousand people every day. He would stand with outstretched

hands blessing the crowds, who departed with peace in their souls.

And the "pearl of Colorado" rejoiced, seeing how the deaf heard, the

cripples walked, the blind saw, and all glorified the name of the Saint

of Denver.

His disinterestedness was above suspicion, and the contempt that he

showed for the "almighty dollar" filled all the believers with

astonishment and admiration.

"What should I do with money?" he said. "Does not my Heavenly Father

supply all my needs? There is no greater wealth than faith, and I have

supreme faith in my Father."

Gifts poured in upon him, but he refused them all with his customary

gentleness, so that at last people ceased to send him anything but

gloves. These, after having touched them with his hands, he

distributed among the sick and the unfortunate.

His fame increased with the ardour of his faith. Suspicion was

disarmed, and great and small paid him homage. Out of touch as he was

with modern thought, and reading nothing but the prophets, he attained

to a condition of ecstasy which at last led him to announce that he was

Christ come down from heaven to save his fellow-men. Having lived so

long on the footing of a son of God, he now was convinced of his direct

descent, and his hearers going still further, were filled with

expectation of some great event which should astonish all unbelievers.

Under the influence of this general excitement he proceeded to undergo

a forty days' fast. He announced this to his followers, who flocked to

see the miracle, preceded by the inevitable reporters; and while

fasting he still continued to heal the sick and give them his blessing,

attracting ever greater crowds by his haggard visage and his atmosphere

of religious exaltation.

Then, having spent forty days and forty nights in this manner, he sat

down at table to replenish his enfeebled forces, and the beholders gave

voice to enthusiastic expressions of faith in his divine mission.

But the famished Schlatter attacked the food laid before him with an

ardour that had in it nothing of the divine. The onlookers became

uneasy, and one of them went so far as to suggest that his health might

suffer from this abrupt transition.

"Have faith," replied Schlatter. "The Father who has permitted me to

live without nourishment for forty days, will not cease to watch over

His Son."

The town of Denver formed a little world apart. Miracles were in the

air, faith was the only subject of conversation, and everyone dreamed

of celestial joys and the grace of salvation. In this supernatural

atmosphere distinctions between the possible and the impossible were

lost sight of, and the inhabitants believed that the usual order of

nature had been overthrown.

For instance, James Eckman of Leadville, who had been blinded by an

explosion, recovered his sight immediately he arrived at Denver.

General Test declared that he had seen a legless cripple _walk_ when

the saint's gaze was bent upon him. A blind engineer named Stainthorp

became able to see daylight. A man named Dillon, bent and crippled by

an illness several decades before, recovered instantaneously. When the

saint touched him, he felt a warmth throughout his whole body; his

fingers, which he had not been able to use for years, suddenly

straightened themselves; he was conscious of a sensation of

inexpressible rapture, and rose up full of faith and joy. A man named

Welsh, of Colorado Springs, had a paralysed right hand which was

immediately cured when Schlatter touched it.

All New Mexico rejoiced in the heavenly blessing that had fallen upon

Denver. Special trains disgorged thousands of travellers, who were

caught up in the wave of religious enthusiasm directly they arrived.

The whole town was flooded with a sort of exaltation, and there was a

recrudescence of childishly superstitious beliefs, which broke out with

all the spontaneity and vigour that usually characterises the

manifestation of popular religious phenomena.

What would have been the end of it if Schlatter had not so decisively

and inexplicably disappeared?

It would be difficult to conceive of anything more extraordinary than

the exploits of this modern saint, which came near to revolutionising

the whole religious life of the New World. The fact that they took

place against a modern background, with the aid of newspaper interviews

and special trains, gives them a peculiar _cachet_. Indeed, the

spectacle of such child-like faith, allied to all the excesses of

civilisation, and backed up by the ground-work of prejudices from which

man has as yet by no means freed himself, is one to provide

considerable food for reflection for those who study the psychology of

crowds in general, and of religious mania in particular.

The case of Schlatter is not a difficult one to diagnose. He suffered

from "ambulatory automatism," the disease investigated by Professor

Pitres of Bordeaux, and was a wanderer from his childhood up.

Incapable of resisting the lure of vagabondage, he thought it should be

possible to perform miracles because it was "God his Father" who thus

forced him to wander from place to place. "All nature being directed

according to His Will," said Schlatter, "and nothing being accomplished

without Him, I am driven to warn the earth in order to fulfil His

designs."

Being simple-minded and highly impressionable, the first cure that he

succeeded in bringing about seemed to him a direct proof of his

alliance with God. As Diderot has said, it is sometimes only necessary

to be a little mad in order to prophesy and to enjoy poetic ecstasies;

and in the case of Schlatter the flower of altruism which often

blossoms in the hearts of such "madmen" was manifested in his complete

lack of self-seeking and in his compassion for the poor and suffering

which drew crowds around him. As to his miracles, we may--without

attempting to explain them--state decisively that they do not differ

from those accomplished by means of suggestion. The cases of blindness

treated by Schlatter have a remarkable resemblance to that of the girl

Marie described by Pierre Janet in his _Psychological Automatism_.

This patient was admitted to the hospital at Havre, suffering, among

other things, from blindness of the left eye which she said dated from

infancy. But when by means of hypnotism she was "transformed" into a

child of five years of age, it was found that she saw well with both

eyes. The blindness must therefore have begun at the age of six

years--but from what cause? She was made to repeat, while in the

somnambulistic state, all the principal scenes of her life at that

time, and it was found that the blindness had commenced some days after

she had been forced to sleep with a child of her own age who had a rash

all over the left side of her face. Marie developed a similar rash and

became blind in the left eye soon afterwards. Pierre Janet made her

re-live the event which had had so terrible an effect upon her, induced

her to believe that the child had no rash, and after two attempts

succeeded in making her caress her (imaginary) bedfellow. The sight of

the left eye returned, and Marie awoke--cured!

The saint of Denver could not, of course, make use of methods adopted

by doctors in the hospitals, but he had something much stronger and

more effective in his mysterious origin, his prophet-like appearance,

and his airs as of one illuminated by the spirit. Suggestion, when

acting upon those who are awake, spreads from one to another like an

attack of yawning or of infectious laughter. Crowds are credulous,

like children who look no further than their surface impressions.

The case of W. C. Dillon, who had been bent and crippled for years, but

was able to straighten his limbs at once under Schlatter's influence,

recalls that of the young sailor in the household of Dr. Pillet, who

for several weeks was bent forward in a most painful position. He had

received a severe blow at the base of the chest, after which he seemed

unable to stand upright again. He was put into a hypnotic sleep, and

asked if he could raise himself.

"Why not?" he replied.

"Then do so," said the doctor--and he rose from his bed completely

cured.

A remarkable thing with regard to Schlatter's cures is that they were

so frequently concerned with cases of paralysis. Now Charcot has

proved that such cases are usually found in hysterical subjects

suffering from amnesia or anaesthesia (general or partial loss of

sensation), and according to modern medical research paralysis and

anaesthesia are almost identical. We know, further, with what ease

hypnotic suggestion can either provoke or dispel partial or general

anaesthesia, and this applies equally to partial or general paralysis.

Paralysis is often, if not always, due to a simple

amnesia--forgetfulness to make use of certain muscles--which can be

overcome by suggestion. Schlatter, with his undeniable hypnotic power,

had consequently small difficulty in accomplishing "miracles"--that is

to say, in producing incomprehensible and inexplicable phenomena.

His custom of dealing with people in crowds gave him greater chances of

success than if he had merely treated individual cases. "Faith is the

only thing that cures," he declared--and, as if by magic, his hearers

became possessed of faith and intoxicated by the benefits obtained from

his divine intervention.

Truly the life of this impulse-ridden vagabond, so lacking in

self-interest, so devoted to the needs of the sick and poor, throws a

new light upon the souls of our contemporaries. There seems to exist

in every human being, no matter how deeply hidden, an inexhaustible

desire for contact with the Infinite. And this desire can be as easily

played upon by the tricks of impostors as by the holiness of saints, or

the divine grace of saviours.

PART III

THE DEPTHS OF THE SUBCONSCIOUS MIND

CHAPTER I

SECTS IN FRANCE AND ELSEWHERE

During the second half of the nineteenth and the beginning of the

twentieth century, scarcely a single country has been free from

religious manifestations of the most varied kind, all concerned with

new ways and means of attaining salvation; and if one were to include

all the different phases of occultism as well, one would be astounded

at the mystical ardour of which modern humanity is possessed.

From the spiritualists and the theosophists to the crystal-gazers and

the palmists, all these occult practices are, in reality, merely the

result of a more or less intensified desire to communicate with the

spiritual worlds.

France, although considered a country pre-eminently sceptical, has not

escaped the general tendency, for even in what appeared to be the most

rationalistic epoch--that of the Revolution--the "Cult of Reason" was

founded, to be succeeded by the "Religion of the Supreme Being"

introduced by Robespierre. And what numbers of new sects and religions

can be recorded since then!

There was, first of all, the _Theophilanthropy_ of Jean-Baptiste Chemin

and Valentine Hauy, representing the faith of those who love man in

God, and God in so far as He loves man. The Empire, in persecuting

this doctrine, only added to its vitality, for it has hot even yet

completely died out.

The religion of Father Enfantin, which had a great vogue in the last

century, conformed in many respects to the name of its founder. Man

and woman, united by religion, were to form priests "in duplicate" for

the guidance of their flock, young and old, lovers and married couples

alike. The Saint-Simonites--so admirable in some ways--allied

themselves to this doctrine, and succeeded in attracting a number of

sympathisers.

The life of French sects has always been of short duration, though

there have existed among them many that in other countries would

certainly have won for their founders the laurel-wreath of fame. Such

was, for instance, the _Church of France_, inaugurated by the Abbe

Chatel, whose idea was to entrust sacerdotal functions to the most

worthy among his followers, by means of a public vote. The sect

prospered for a time, but soon disappeared amid general indifference,

and the Abbe ended his days as a grocer.

The doctrine of Fabre Palaprat had more success, being drawn from the

esoteric teachings of the Gospel of St. John. He either suppressed or

modified many of the Catholic dogmas, abandoned the use of Latin and

inaugurated prayers in French.

The _Fusionists_ were founded by Jean-Baptiste de Tourreil. After a

divine revelation which came to him in the forest of Meudon, near

Paris, he broke with Catholicism and preached the intimate union of man

and nature. He anticipated to some extent the naturalist beliefs which

spread through both France and England at the beginning of the present

century, and his posthumous work entitled _The Fusionist Religion or

the Doctrine of Universalism_ gives an idea of his tendencies. There

was an element of consolation in his doctrine, for the harmony between

man and the universe, as taught by him, renders death only a

prolongation of life itself, and makes it both attractive and desirable.

The _Neo-Gnostic Church_ of Fabre des Essarts was condemned by Leo XIII

with some severity as a revival of the old Albigensian heresy, with the

addition of new false and impious doctrines, but it still has many

followers. The Neo-Gnostics believe that this world is a work of

wickedness, and was created not by God but by some inferior power,

which shall ultimately disappear--and its creation also. While the

Manichaeans teach that the world is ruled by the powers of both good

and evil, God and Satan, the Neo-Gnostics declare that it is Satan who

reigns exclusively upon earth, and that it is man's duty to help to

free God from His powerful rival. They also preach the brotherhood of

man and of nations, and it is probably this altruistic doctrine which

has rendered them irresistible to many who are wearied and disheartened

by the enmities and hatreds that separate human beings.

In 1900, after a letter from Jean Bricaut, the patriarch of universal

Gnosticism in Lyons, the Neo-Gnostics united with the Valentinians, and

their union was consecrated by the Council of Toulouse in 1903. But

some years afterwards, Dr. Fugairon of Lyons (who took the name of

Sophronius) amalgamated all the branches, with the exception of the

Valentinians, under the name of the _Gnostic Church of Lyons_. These

latter, although excluded, continued to follow their own way of

salvation, and addressed a legal declaration to the Republican

Government in 1906 in defence of their religious rights of association.

In the Gnostic teaching, the Eons, corresponding to the archetypal

ideas of Plato, are never single; each god has his feminine

counterpart; and the Gnostic assemblies are composed of "perfected

ones," male and female. The Valentinians give the mystic bride the

name of Helen.

The Gnostic rites and sacraments are complicated. There is the

_Consolamentum_, or laying on of hands; the breaking of bread, or means

of communication with the _Astral Body of Jesus_; and the

_Appareillamentum_, or means of receiving divine grace.

In peculiarities of faith and of its expression some of our French

sects certainly have little to learn from those of America and Russia.

The _Religion of Satanism_--or, as it was sometimes called, the

_Religion of Mercy_--founded by Vintras and Boullan, deserves special

mention. Vintras was arrested--unjustly, it seems certain--for

swindling, and in the visions which he experienced as a result of his

undeserved sufferings he believed himself to be in communication with

the Archangel Michael and with Christ Himself. Having spent about

twelve years in London, he returned to Lyons to preach his doctrine,

and succeeded in making a number of proselytes. He died in 1875. Some

years afterwards a doctor of divinity named Boullan installed himself

at Lyons as his successor. He taught that women should be common

property, and preached the union with inferior beings (in order to

raise them), the "union of charity," and the "union of wisdom." He

healed the sick, exorcised demons, and treated domestic animals with

great success, so that the peasants soon looked upon him as superior to

the cure who was incapable of curing their sick horses and cattle.

Vintras had proclaimed himself to be Elijah come to life; Boullan

adopted the title of John the Baptist resurrected. He died at the

beginning of the twentieth century, complaining of having been cruelly

slandered, especially by Stanislas de Guaita, who in his _Temple of

Satan_ had accused Boullan of being a priest of Lucifer, of making use

of spells and charms, and--worst of all--of celebrating the Black Mass.

The founder of the _Religion of Humanity_ had a tragic and troublous

career. Genius and madness have rarely been so harmoniously combined

for the creation of something that should be durable and of real value.

For one cannot doubt the madness of Auguste Comte. It was manifested

in public on the 12th of April, 1826, and interrupted the success of

his lectures, which had attracted all the leading minds of the time,

including Humboldt himself. After a violent attack of mania, the

founder of the philosophy of Positivism took refuge at Montmorency.

From there he was with difficulty brought back to Paris and placed

under the care of the celebrated alienist, Esquirol. He was released

when only partially cured, and at the instigation of his mother

consented to go through a religious marriage ceremony with Madame

Comte, after which he signed the official register _Brutus Bonaparte

Comte_! The following year he threw himself into the Seine, but was

miraculously saved, and, gradually recovering his strength, he

recommenced his courses of lectures, which aroused the greatest

interest both in France and abroad.

The Positivist leader had always shown signs of morbid megalomania.

His early works are sufficient to prove that he was the prey to an

excessive form of pride, for he writes like a Messiah consciously

treading the path that leads to a martyr's crown. His private troubles

aggravated the malady, and the escapades of his wife, who frequently

left his house to rejoin her old associates, were the cause of violent

attacks of frenzy.

Later the philosopher himself was seized by an overwhelming passion for

Clotilde de Vaux, a writer of pretensions who was, in reality,

distinguished neither by talent nor beauty. The feeling that she

inspired in him has no parallel in the annals of modern love-affairs.

After some years, however, she died of consumption, and the germ of

madness in Comte, which had been lying latent, again showed itself,

this time in the form of a passionate religious mysticism. His dead

mistress became transformed, for him, into a divinity, and he looked

upon everything that she had used or touched as sacred, shutting

himself up in the midst of the furniture and utensils that had

surrounded her during her life-time. Three times a day he prostrated

himself, and offered up fervent prayers to the spirit of Clotilde, and

he often visited her grave, or sat, wrapped in meditation, in the

church that she had frequented. He sought to evoke her image, and held

long conversations with it, and it was under her influence that he

founded a new religion based chiefly on his _Positivist Catechism_. In

this cult, Clotilde symbolised woman and the superior humanity which

shall proceed from her.

Although a profound and original thinker, Comte was like the rest in

considering himself the High Priest of his own religion. He sought to

make converts, and wrote to many of the reigning sovereigns, including

the Tsar; and he even suggested an alliance, for the good of the

nations, with the Jesuits!

But to do him justice we must admit that he led an ascetic and

saint-like life, renouncing all worldly pleasures. An Englishman who

saw much of him about 1851 declared that his goodness of soul surpassed

even his brilliancy of intellect.

Though he had so little sympathy for the past and present religions

upon whose grave he erected his own system, he himself reverted, as a

matter of fact, to a sort of fetishism; and his "Humanity," with which

he replaced the former "gods," manifested nearly all their defects and

weaknesses.

In his _Sacerdoce_ and _Nouvelle Foi Occidentale_ the principal ideas

are borrowed from inferior beliefs of the Asiatic races. He

incorporated the arts of hygiene and medicine in his creed, and

declared that medicine would reinstate the dominion of the priesthood

when the Positivist clergy succeeded in fulfilling the necessary

conditions.

The remarkable success of this religion is well known. Numerous sects

based on Comte's doctrines were founded in all parts of the world, and

his philosophy made a deep impression on the minds of thinking men, who

assisted in spreading it through all branches of society. Even to-day

believers in Positivism are found not only in France, but above all in

North and South America. In Brazil, Comte's influence was both

widespread and beneficial, and the very laws of this great Republic are

based on the theories of the Positivist leader.

The value of certain of his fundamental doctrines may be questioned,

equally with the ruling ideas of his religion, his Messianic role, and

his priesthood. But there is nevertheless something sublime in the

teaching that individual and social happiness depends upon the degree

of affection and goodwill manifested in the human heart. This is no

doubt one reason why the adherents of the Positivist Church are so

often distinguished by their high morality and their spirit of

self-sacrifice.

In addition to purely local sects and religions, France has always

harboured a number of _Swedenborgians_, whose beliefs have undergone

certain modifications on French soil. For instance, thaumaturgy was

introduced by Captain Bernard, and healing by means of prayer by Madame

de Saint-Amour. But Leboys des Guais, the acknowledged leader of the

sect about 1850, reverted to the unalloyed doctrines of the founder,

and thanks to Mlle. Holms and M. Humann, and their church in the Rue de

Thouin, the Swedenborgian religion still flourishes in France to-day.

The _Irvingites_, founded in Scotland towards the end of the eighteenth

century, also made many French converts. Irving preached the second

coming of Christ, and believed that the Holy Ghost was present in

himself. He waited some time for God the Father to endow him with the

miraculous gifts needed for establishing the new Church, and then,

finding that many of his followers were able to heal the sick with

surprising success, he concluded that heaven had deigned to accept him

as the "second Saviour." He organised a Catholic Apostolic Church in

London, and proclaimed himself its head; while in Paris the principal

church of the sect, formerly in the Avenue de Segur, has now been moved

to the Rue Francois-Bonvin. Woman is excluded from the cult, and

consequently the name of the Virgin is omitted from all Irvingite

ceremonies, while the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption of the

Virgin are denied.

But many other sects exist in addition to those already mentioned.

Often their life is short as a summer night, and they appear and

disappear, leaving no trace behind them save a passing exaltation in

the hearts of their followers. Those who join them seem for a time to

be satisfied with dreams and illusions, but usually end by returning to

the bosom of the established Church--or by being confined in an asylum.

These innumerable sects with their illusory pretensions serve to

demonstrate the truth of our thesis--that the most ardent desire of

present-day humanity is for the renewal or transformation of the faith

to which it has grown accustomed.

A well-known critic has claimed that it is possible for all the

dramatic or comic incidents that have been played in all theatres of

all ages to be reduced down to thirty-six situations from the use of

which not even a genius can escape. To how many main variations could

we reduce the desire for reform displayed by our religious

revolutionaries? The search for salvation takes on so many vague and

incalculable shapes that we can only compare them to clouds that float

across the sky on a windy day; but there are, all the same, signs of

kinship to be discovered even between the sects that appear to be

furthest apart.

The _Chlysty_, from whom the religion of Rasputin was partly derived,

show some resemblance to the "Shakers," and to the Christian

Scientists, both of whom have evolved along lines diametrically

opposed. The "Shakers," direct descendants of the Huguenots, teach

that the end of the world is at hand, and that all men should repent in

preparation for the coming of the heavenly kingdom. Their meetings

have always been characterised by visions and revelations, and they

sing and dance for joy, leaping into the air and trembling with nervous

excitement--to which fact they owe their name.

In tracing out their history we find many striking analogies with the

sects of our own day. It was in 1770 that the "Shakers" believed

Christ to have reincarnated in the body of Anne Lee, the daughter of a

Manchester blacksmith. Although married, she preached--like Mrs. Eddy

a hundred years later--the benefits of celibacy, the only state

approved by God. Her convictions were so sincere, and her expression

of them so eloquent, that when charged with heresy she succeeded in

converting her accusers. The cult of virginity was adopted by her

followers, who considered her their "Mother in Christ," inspired from

on high; and when she counselled them to leave England and emigrate to

the New World, they followed her unquestioningly, even to embarking in

an old and long-disused vessel for the Promised Land. Arrived there,

however, their lot was not a happy one, for they met with much

persecution, and Anne Lee herself was imprisoned. But after her

release she preached with greater force and conviction than ever the

end of sexual unions and the near approach of the Kingdom of God. Her

eloquence attracted many, and even today her religion still has

followers. Among their settlements we may mention that of Alfred,

Maine, where a number of "spiritual families" live harmoniously

together, convinced that the Kingdom of God has already descended upon

earth, and that they are existing in a state of celestial purity like

that of the angels in heaven. They refuse to eat pork or to make use

of fermented drinks, and dancing still plays a part in their religious

services. Sometimes, in the midst of the general excitement, a sister

or a brother will announce a message that has been delivered by some

unseen spirit, whereupon all the hearers leap and dance with redoubled

vigour.

To-day, even as a hundred years ago, the "Shakers" affirm, not without

reason, that Heaven and Hell are within ourselves, and that that is why

we must live honestly and well in order to share in the heavenly

kingdom from which sinners are excluded. Just so do Christian

Scientists declare that we may be led by faith towards heaven,

happiness and health.

Even murder, that most extreme perversion of all moral feeling, has

been adopted as a means of salvation by several Russian sects as well

as by the Hindus, evolving in widely contrasted environments. The

general desire to gain, somehow or other, the favour of the "Eternal

Principle of Things," thus expresses itself in the most varied and the

most unlikely forms, one of the most striking being that of the

"religion of murder," which throws a lurid light upon the hidden

regions of man's subconscious mind.

CHAPTER II

THE RELIGION OF MURDER

There are certain periodical publications which as a rule are neither

examined nor discussed. Yet their existence dates back for many years,

and in this age of filing and docketing they must by now provide a

regular gold-mine for the study of human psychology. What increases

their value is that they avoid all attempt at "literary effect." No

picked phrases, no situations invented or dramatised to suit the taste

of the author; nothing but facts taken from real life and recorded by

the functionaries of His Majesty the Emperor of India. We are

referring to those very interesting _Reports of the Indian Government_

to which we owe practically all our knowledge of fakirism and its

miracles, of the artificial conservation of human life in the tomb, and

of the strangulation rites of the Thugs. They are indeed a valuable

contribution to the study of the perversions of religious faith--that

most alluring and yet least explored section of psychology.

A librarian at the British Museum showed me some years ago one of the

most suggestive documents that the art of cartography has ever

produced. It was the famous map prepared by Captain Paton, about 1890,

for the British Government, showing the various neighbourhoods in which

the Thugs had strangled and buried their victims. Drawn up according

to precise information furnished by several leaders of the sect, it

indicated every tomb in the province of Oudh, where the majority of the

worshippers of the goddess Kali were to be found. The written

descriptions that accompanied the map were particularly interesting,

for--like Swift, when he enumerated the benefits that would accrue to

the starving Irish people if they killed their children like sheep and

ate them instead of mutton--Captain Paton felt himself compelled to

record the glorious deeds of some of the most valiant of the Thugs. He

gave details which would have rejoiced the imagination of a de Quincey

or an Edgar Allan Poe. About 5200 murders had been committed by a

company of forty people, all highly thought of and commanding general

respect. At their head was the venerable Buhram, who laid claim to 931

assassinations during his forty years of religious activity in the

province of Oudh. The second in merit, one Ramson, had strangled 608

people. The third, it is true, could only claim about 500, but he had

reached this figure in thirty years, and had made a record of 25

murders in one year. Others had to their credit 377, 340 and 264

assassinations respectively, after which one dropped from these heights

to figures of twenty, ten or even only five annual murders in honour of

Kali. This record undoubtedly represented the supreme flower of the

religion of this goddess, who not only taught her followers the art of

strangulation, but also succeeded in hiding their deeds from the

suspicious eyes of unbelievers.

Murders followed thick and fast, one upon another, but though thousands

of Hindus, rich and poor, young and old, were known to disappear, their

terrified families scarcely dared to complain. English statisticians

go so far as to say that from thirty to fifty thousand human lives were

sacrificed every year on the altar of this fatal goddess, who, desiring

to thwart the growth of the too prolific life-principle in the

universe, incited her worshippers to the suppression and destruction of

human beings. But while using her power to shelter her followers from

suspicion and discovery, Kali expected them, for their part, to take

care that none witnessed the performance of her duties. One day

misfortune fell upon them. A novice of the cult had the daring to spy

upon the goddess while she was occupied in destroying the traces of her

rite, and Kali's divine modesty being wounded, she declared that in

future she would no longer watch over the earthly safety of her

followers, but that they themselves must be responsible for concealing

their deeds from the eyes of men. Thus, after having worshipped her

with impunity for centuries, the Thugs all at once found themselves

exposed to the suspicions of their fellow-countrymen, and above all, of

the British Government. Captain Sleeman played the part of their evil

genius, for in his anger at their abominable deeds he decided, in spite

of the resistance offered by the heads of the East India Company, to

wage war to the knife against the religion of Kali. Such alarming

reports were received in England that at last the home authorities were

aroused, and in 1830 a special official was appointed to direct

operations (the General Superintendent of Operations against Thuggee).

Captain Sleeman was chosen to fill the appointment, and he dedicated to

it all his courage and practically his whole life. The tale of the

twenty years' struggle that followed would put the most thrilling

dramas of fiction in the shade.

In the works founded on Captain Sleeman's reports, and above all in his

own official documents, are found remarkable accounts of the ways in

which the Thugs lured their victims to their doom.

A Mongol officer of noble bearing was travelling to the province of

Oudh accompanied by two faithful servants. He halted on his way near

the Ganges, and was there accosted by a group of men, polite in speech

and respectable in appearance, who asked permission to finish their

journey under his protection. The officer refused angrily and begged

them to let him go on his way alone. The strangers tried to persuade

him that his suspicions were unjust, but, seeing his nostrils inflate

and his eyes gleam with rage, they finally desisted. The next day he

met another group of travellers, dressed in Moslem fashion, who spoke

to him of the danger of travelling alone and begged him to accept their

escort. Once more the officer's eyes flashed with rage; he threatened

them with his sword, and was left to proceed in peace. Many times

again the brave Mongol, always on his guard, succeeded in thwarting the

designs of his mysterious fellow-travellers, but on the fourth day he

reached a barren plain where, a few steps from the track, six Moslems

were weeping over the body of one who had succumbed to the hardships of

the journey. They had already dug a hole in the earth to inter the

corpse, when it was discovered that not one of them could read the

Koran. On their knees they implored the Mongol officer to render this

service to the dead. He dismounted from his horse, unable to resist

their pleadings, and feeling bound by his religion to accede to their

request.

Having discarded his sword and pistols, he performed the necessary

ablutions, and then approached the grave to recite the prayers for the

dead. Suddenly cloths were thrown over his own and his servants'

heads, and after a few moments all three were precipitated into the

yawning hole.

It may be asked why so much cunning was needed in order to add a few

more members to the kingdom of the dead. The reason is that the Thugs

were forbidden to shed human blood. The sacrifice could only be

accomplished through death by strangling. It might often be easy

enough to fall upon solitary travellers, but woe to the Thug who in any

way brought about the shedding of blood! Consequently they had to have

recourse to all sorts of ingenious methods for allaying suspicion, so

that their victims might be hastened into the next world according to

the rites approved by their implacable goddess. They believed in

division of labour, and always acted collectively, employing some to

entice the victim into the trap, and others to perform the act of

strangulation, while in the third category were those who first dug the

graves and afterwards rendered them invisible.

The murders were always accomplished with a kind of cold-blooded

fanaticism, admitting neither mercy nor pity, for the Thug, convinced

that his action would count as a special virtue for himself in the next

life, also believed that his victim would benefit from it.

Feringhi, one of the most famous of Indian stranglers, who also held a

responsible official position, was once asked if he was not ashamed to

kill his neighbour.

"No," he replied, "because one cannot be ashamed to fulfil the divine

will. In doing so one finds happiness. No man who has once understood

and practised the religion of Thuggee will ever cease to conform to it

to the end of his days. I was initiated into it by my father when I

was very young, and if I were to live for a thousand years I should

still continue to follow in his footsteps."

The Thugs of each district were led by one whom they called their

_jemadar_, to whom they gave implicit obedience. The utmost discretion

reigned among them, and they never questioned the plans of their

superiors. We can imagine how difficult it was to combat a fanaticism

which feared nothing, not even death; for when death overtook them, as

it sometimes did, in the performance of their rites, they merely looked

upon it as a means of drawing nearer to their goddess.

The origin of this extraordinary religion seems to be hidden in the

mists of the past, though European travellers claim to have met with it

in India in the seventeenth century. We may note that during the

Mahometan invasion all sorts of crimes were committed in the name of

religion, and possibly the murders in honour of Kali were a survival

from this time. As years went by the sect increased rapidly, and many

of the most peaceable Hindus were attracted by it, and joined it in the

capacity of grave-concealers, spies, or merely as passive adherents who

contributed large sums of money. In Sleeman's time about two thousand

Thugs were arrested and put to death every year, but nevertheless their

numbers, towards the end of the nineteenth century, were steadily

increasing. (Of recent years, however, a considerable diminution has

been shown.) In 1895 only three are recorded to have been condemned to

death for murder; in 1896, ten; and in 1897, twenty-five; while

travellers in Rajputana and the Hyderabad district speak of much higher

figures. The Thugs always bear in mind the maxim that "dead men tell

no tales," and their practice of killing all the companions of the

chosen victim, as well as himself, renders the detection of their

crimes extremely difficult; while their mastery of the art of getting

rid of corpses frequently baffles the authorities. Further, the

terrified families of the victims, dreading reprisals, often fail to

report the deaths, so that the sect has thus been enabled to continue

its murderous rites in spite of all measures taken to stamp it out.

They avoid killing women, except in the case of women accompanying a

man who has been doomed to death, when they must be sacrificed in order

to prevent their reporting the crime. Stranger still, they admit that

murder is not always a virtuous action, but that there are criminal

murders which deserve punishment.

"When a Thug is killed," said one of them to the celebrated Sleeman,

"or when one does not belong to the sect, and kills without conforming

to the rites, it is a crime, and should be punished."

They seem to experience a strange and voluptuous pleasure when

performing their rites of strangulation--a pleasure increased, no

doubt, by the knowledge that their goddess looks on with approval. Yet

even the most hardened among them is capable of the greatest chivalry

when women are concerned, and a rigorous inquiry into the details of

thousands of their crimes has failed to reveal any single attempt at

violation. A Thug returning from one of his ritualistic expeditions

may show himself to be a good and affectionate husband and father, and

a charitable neighbour. Apart from numerous acts of assassination, on

which he prides himself, his conduct is usually irreproachable. No

wonder that he fills the English magistrates with stupefaction, and

that justice does not always dare to strike when it can act more

effectively by persuasion or seclusion.

All things evolve with the passage of time, and in the twentieth

century even the rite of strangulation has undergone changes. From the

main sect of Thuggee, other branches of a new and unlooked-for type

have sprung. These, instead of strangling their neighbours, prefer to

poison them, the virtue being the same and the method easier and more

expeditious. Their proceedings, though more difficult to control, are

quite as lucrative for Kali, the devourer of human life, and if they

have made their goddess less notorious than did the Thugs, they

certainly worship her with equal ardour.

CHAPTER III

THE REINCARNATIONIST'S PARADISE

Amid luxuriant vegetation, in an enchanting position overlooking the

Pacific Ocean, flourishes the religion of reincarnation "without

beginning and without end." Its followers, gathered there from all

parts of the world, steep themselves in the atmosphere of fraternal

love and general benevolence which is exhaled by this doctrine of the

evolution of souls, leading to ultimate perfection.

The scenes which greet the dazzled eyes of the visitor are of such

extreme beauty that he might well believe himself to have been

miraculously transported to ancient Hellas. Greek theatres and temples

gleam whitely in the shade of majestic palm-trees, and groups of young

people dressed like the youths and maidens of ancient Athens may be

seen taking part in rhythmic dances and elaborate processions.

Amid the dirt and chaos of our modern world this Grecian city seems to

have sprung up as by a miracle, fully reconstituted not only in its

outer appearance but also in its inner life of harmony and peace.

Theosophists of every degree, who in other lands seem so often to lose

themselves in a mist of vague dreams and metaphysical speculations,

have here succeeded in expressing their ideals in concrete form.

Why postpone the paradise promised by Karma, the fundamental law of

life? Why not seek to enjoy it now, without delay? So a number of the

scattered disciples of Madame Blavatsky, following their new guide,

Catherine Tingley, set to work to construct their holy city in

California, on the shores of the Pacific, like the Jews who followed

Moses to the Promised Land.

These teachings, handed down through untold ages, rejoice to-day in a

setting that would surely have astonished their Hindu or Egyptian

progenitors; and the revelations which came to Madame Blavatsky after

her discovery of the forgotten truths of a dim and distant past bid

fair to revivify our time-worn planet. Since the war there has been a

tremendous revival of theosophical propaganda in allied and neutral

countries, in the Old World and in the New, and without doubt

Theosophy, together with Christian Science--to which it is in many ways

opposed--is destined to undergo striking developments.

The new theory of metempsychosis saw the light about fifty years ago.

It was brought to the United States by Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, a

Russian lady of noble birth and high educational attainments, whose

thought had been influenced partly by the esoteric wisdom of the past

and partly by the religious unrest of her native land.

The doctrine of reincarnation has been accepted in India and Egypt for

at least three thousand years. It was taught secretly in the

Eleusinian mysteries. The philosophy of Pythagoras and of Plato is

deeply impregnated with it. The Early Christian Church, as well as the

Gnostics, admitted it tacitly, but in the fourth century it was

condemned by the Fathers of the Church and banished from orthodox

Christianity. Nevertheless it has always had an irresistible

attraction for thoughtful minds, and many of the greatest thinkers,

artists and poets of all ages have been firmly convinced of its truth.

Once installed in New York the Russian prophetess sowed far and wide

the seeds of her new faith, whose consolatory doctrine attracted many

who were saddened by the phenomenon of death, while at the same time it

brought her many enemies.

After a time she departed for India, where her teachings became

considerably enriched and widened by local and historical influences.

She died in London in 1891.

We will pass in silence over the calumnious and dishonourable

accusations which poisoned her years of triumph, and with which it has

been sought to tarnish her memory. In these days we slander our

prophets instead of killing them--a procedure which may cause them

greater suffering, but has no effect upon the spread of their doctrines.

Madame Blavatsky's philosophy is set forth in a series of elaborate

works of which the chief are _The Secret Doctrine_, the _Key to

Theosophy_, and _Isis Unveiled_, constituting, according to the author,

a key to the mysteries of ancient and modern science and theology. To

this medley of thoughts and facts drawn from the mystical wisdom of all

countries and all ages, the magic of the writer's style gives a

peculiar force and flavour, and though she may not always convince, she

certainly offers food for thought and speculation--which is, perhaps,

even more essential.

Her frequent lack of precision and clearness seems only to enhance the

effect of her affirmations and revelations. A prophet who could easily

be understood by intelligences of all grades would soon come to grief,

for religious teachers, like philosophers and metaphysicians, seem to

be esteemed and admired largely in proportion to the vagueness of their

doctrines. The works of Madame Blavatsky are worthy of being classed

among the most obscure, and for that very reason have every chance of

endurance.

In spite of the differences that arose among the principal Theosophists

(who included Colonel Olcott, William Q. Judge, and Annie Besant) after

their leader's death, Catherine Tingley succeeded in rallying large

numbers of the American believers to her banner, and founded a colony

at Point Loma, California, under the name of "the universal and

theosophical brotherhood," which was approved by the Theosophical

conferences held in New York and Chicago in 1898.

Theosophy is in fact a philosophy of altruism, whose main tenets are

brotherly love and justice. By following truth the soul becomes

purified, and after a life consecrated to others and guided by the laws

of justice, the individual may hope to reincarnate in some higher form.

As the poet of Sakuntala has said--"In other existences we all have

loved and wept"--but the divine Kalidasa teaches that past lives should

not be spoken of, "for the mystery of rebirth is sacred."

The duality of our being is shown, on the one hand, in our earthly sins

and failures, and on the other in the spiritual aspirations which ever

urge us on to greater heights. The law of Karma affirms the

relationship between cause and effect, and teaches that "as a man sows,

so shall he also reap"--and consequently, the better our thoughts and

actions now, the greater our advancement in the next life.

It is in the teachings of the divine Krishna that we find the original

source of the greater part of modern Theosophy. His precepts are full

of consolation for restless minds, and have the power to reconcile us

not only to death, but to life.

In the vast store-house of the world's legends there is none more

beautiful than that of the immaculate maiden Devaki, who in a divine

ecstasy, amid strains of celestial music, brought forth the child of

Mahadeva, Sun of Suns, in perfect serenity and bliss; while the story

of Krishna's life, his dangers and temptations, his virtues and his

beauty, his wisdom and his final supreme initiation, has provided the

Hindu world with conceptions of a grandeur, originality and depth

rarely met with elsewhere. To this well of wisdom came Plato and

Pythagoras, and drew from it the chief ingredients of their

philosophies; and here, too, we receive from the lips of Krishna,

thirty centuries before the birth of Christ, the first faint

intimations of the immortality of the soul.

He taught his disciples that man, living upon earth, is triple in

essence, possessing spirit, mind and body. When he succeeds in

harmonising the two first, he attains the state of _Sattva_, and

rejoices in wisdom and peace. When he succeeds in harmonising mind and

body only, he is in the state of _Raja_, which is unstable and

dangerous. When the body preponderates, he is in the state of _Tamas_,

"that bindeth by heedlessness, indolence and sloth." Man's lot depends

therefore on the correlation of these three states. When he dies in

the state of _Sattva_, his soul rises to regions of the utmost purity

and bliss, and comprehends all mysteries, in close communion with the

Most High. This is true immortality. But those who have not escaped

from _Raja_ and _Tamas_ must return to earth and reincarnate in mortal

bodies.

In later years Hermes Trismegistus, the Thrice-Greatest One, further

developed these principles, adding to them the mystical treasures of

Egyptian wisdom. It has been said by Lactance that "Hermes, one knows

not how, succeeded in discovering nearly all the truth." During the

first few centuries of the Christian era his works enjoyed a

considerable vogue, and he also had a very great influence on the

Renaissance period. The Hermetic books, with all their mysteries, have

become part of the theosophical gospel, as well as the doctrines of

Plato and of the Neo-Platonists, Plutarch's treatises on Isis and

Osiris, the philosophies of Plotinus and Iamblichus, the teachings of

Philo and of the Gnostics, and the works of innumerable others, who in

seeking to throw light on the super-physical realms seem often only to

have succeeded in plunging them into greater darkness. Augmented by

all these obscure products of philosophy and metaphysics, the new

Theosophy gives the impression of a gigantic and impenetrable maze, but

it must be admitted that its followers have drawn from it maxims whose

justice and high morality are beyond question.

The general trend of its teachings is indicated by the following

sublime passages from the Bhagavad Gita, or Lord's Song:--

"He attaineth Peace, into whom all desires flow as rivers flow into the

ocean, which is filled with water, but remaineth unmoved--not he who

desireth desires. Whoso forsaketh all desires and goeth onwards free

from yearnings, selfless and without egoism--he goeth to Peace. . . .

Freed from passion, fear and anger, filled with Me, taking refuge in

Me, purified in the fire of wisdom, many have entered into My Being.

However men approach Me, even so do I welcome them, for the path men

take from every side is Mine, O Partha."

But the many imitations and variations of this wonderful Song have

despoiled it of some of its freshness and beauty, so that in these days

it is rather like the airs played on barrel-organs whose original

tunefulness is forgotten through wearisome repetition.

Theosophists are also concerned, with studying the sevenfold nature of

man and of the universe, with the existence of invisible worlds, the

graduated stages of death and rebirth, and the attainment of divine

wisdom through perfect purity of life and thought. They are opposed to

racial prejudices, social classifications, and all distinctions that

separate and divide mankind, and they inculcate the greatest possible

respect for, the widest possible tolerance between, the world's

different religions. Like Christian Scientists they do not believe in

the practice of hypnotic suggestion, but they disagree with the

materialism of the Scientists, holding that, in the search for truth,

purity of life is the one essential, and worldly prosperity of small

importance.

In 1912 and 1913 Mrs. Tingley visited Europe and made numerous converts

in England, Italy, France, Germany and the Scandinavian countries,

while the Theosophical Conference held at Point Loma in 1915, in the

interests of peace and universal brotherhood, was an immense success.

The Theosophists have always been ardent workers in the cause of

international peace, and while awaiting the dawn of a New Age when war

shall be unknown, they strive to forestall its advent in their

Californian paradise.

Dramatic and musical performances are given in theatres built in the

Greek style; there is a college of Raja-Yoga, where thousands of pupils

of all races are initiated into the mysteries of Karma and

Reincarnation; a School of Antiquity, "temple of the living light,"

where the secret of living in harmony with nature is taught; frequent

lectures, conferences, sports and games; while animated conversations

concerning memories of past lives have an undying fascination for the

adherents of this doctrine which sends so many missionaries out into

the world every year.

Unlike other sects, the Theosophists do not seem anxious to publish

their numbers abroad--whether because they make too many converts, or

too few, it is impossible to say!--but there must certainly be hundreds

of thousands scattered throughout the United States, India, and the

Anglo-Saxon countries.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

The foregoing chapter scarcely seems complete without some reference to

the other two centres where an attempt has been made to express the

ideals of Theosophy in concrete form--one in the East, at Adyar,

Madras, the other in the West, at Krotona, near Los Angeles,

California. The former came into being in 1882 under Madame

Blavatsky's own leadership, and has grown from a small property of only

27 acres to one of 263 acres. With its many fine buildings it has a

river-frontage (on the Adyar river) of one mile, and a sea-frontage of

two-fifths of a mile. Here Mrs. Besant--World-President of the

Theosophical Society, apart from Mrs. Tingley's followers--makes her

home, leaving it only for periodical lecturing tours throughout India,

or for visits to London and other European centres. Her lectures at

Queen's Hall, London, in the years immediately preceding the war, and

again in 1919, were remarkable for the crowds who flocked to listen to

one who, whether her views find agreement or not, is universally

admitted to be in the front rank of living orators. Adyar possesses an

excellent library, with many valuable books and manuscripts relating to

the ancient religions of India; a publishing house, the Vasanta Press,

whence are issued yearly numerous theosophical books, pamphlets and

magazines, for purposes of study and propaganda; a lecture hall which

seats 1500 people, but into which as many as 2300 have found admittance

on special occasions; a Masonic temple; an extensive building for the

housing of resident students; and very beautiful grounds with a

palm-grove and an ancient banyan tree, in whose shade many of the most

important theosophical lectures and conferences are held, and around

which more than 3000 people of all nationalities have often been

gathered to hear the discourses of the President and her colleagues. A

striking feature of the grounds is the massive sculptured trilithons,

about 2000 years old, brought from a ruined temple in southern India,

and erected here in picturesque surroundings.

The colony at Krotona is of more recent origin, and its environment is

similar in some respects to that of Point Loma. Founded in 1912 by A.

P. Warrington, the head of the American section of the Theosophical

Society under Mrs. Besant's leadership, it stands on high ground on the

outskirts of Hollywood, a suburb of Los Angeles, with magnificent views

of the Santa Monica Mountains and of the valley leading to the sea

twelve miles away. This "Institute of Theosophy" takes its name from

the School of Science, Art and Philosophy founded by the great

Pythagoras, and aspires to be to-day what his Krotona was in the

past--a centre of spiritual enlightenment. It is run on co-operative

lines, and on a non-profit basis. There are no "servants" in the

community, and the means of support is from a ground-rent or tax

charged to each house-builder, from the renting of rooms, and from

voluntary donations. The buildings are in picturesque Moorish or

Spanish style, their white walls gleaming amid the brilliant flowers

and luxuriant greenery of this favoured climate. They include a fine

Lending Library and Reference Room, a scientific research laboratory, a

publishing house, an administration building, and many pretty villas

and cottages. There is also a temple, in whose auditorium religious

ceremonies, meetings, lectures and concerts take place, and an open-air

stadium where each year a miracle play is to be produced, the one first

chosen being a dramatisation of Sir Edwin Arnold's "Light of Asia,"

which ran for three weeks in the summer of 1918.

The English Headquarters of the Society are now at 23 Bedford Square,

London.

CONCLUSION

"Tell us then, Mary, what hast thou seen upon thy way?"

"I have seen the shroud and the vestments and the angelic witnesses,

and I have seen the glory of the Resurrected."

Saints and prophets of all lands and all ages bear an unconscious

resemblance one to another. The craving for truth, the unquenchable

desire to escape from reality, leads them into realms of mystery and

dream, where simple peasants and labourers, religious men and

agnostics, philosophers and mystics, all meet together. Their

unsuspicious minds are easily dazzled by the least ray of light, and

deceived by the most unlikely promises, and it is not surprising that

they are often imposed upon and led to accept false ways of salvation.

Many of the mystics show a desire to revert to the Esoteric

Christianity dear to Saint John, the disciple whom Jesus loved; or to

that of Mani, whose doctrine--unjustly distorted by his detractors--was

concerned with direct initiation and final mergence in the Divinity.

But it is not easy to progress against the stream of the centuries, and

with the Catharists of Hungary, the Albigenses of Provence, and the

Templars massacred in the name of St. Augustine--that ancient Manichean

who became the worst enemy of his fellow-believers--Esoteric

Christianity seemed to have died out. Nevertheless the desire for it

has never been destroyed, and continues to inspire the teachings of all

those who revolt against dogmas that tend to restrict the soul's

activities instead of widening them.

Logically, all viable religious evolution is a departure from the

Christianity which has moulded our present-day thought and morality and

is the centre of all our hopes. But every new revival has to reckon

with it. Madame Blavatsky, for instance, made Gautama Buddha--the

king's son who became a beggar by reason of his immense compassion for

mankind--the central pivot of her esotericism, which was Buddhist

rather than Christian in essence; but Annie Besant, the spiritual

leader of modern Theosophy, has returned to Christianity and

acknowledges the divinity of the Son of Man. This symbolic example

should reassure Christian believers, showing how even those who depart

from Christianity contribute, in spite of themselves, to its continuous

growth.

Crowds of new phenomena are now demanding entry into the divine city of

religion. There is, first of all, science, undertaking to present us

with a morality conforming to the Gospel teachings, which it claims

have become a dead letter. But if twenty centuries of Christianity

have not transformed human nature, neither has science. Materialism

and commercialism have failed just as the Church, with her spirit of

exclusion and domination, has failed. The fact that all these have

worked separately and in hostility to one another is perhaps the

reason, for mutual understanding and respect, once established between

them, might well result in a new revelation worthy of the new humanity

which shall emerge from this tragic age. A superior idealism, at once

religious, social and scientific, must sooner or later bring new light

and warmth to the world, for a world-crisis which has shaken the very

foundations of our existence cannot leave intact its logical corollary,

faith, in whose vicinity threatening clouds have long been visible. As

at the dawn of Christianity, the whole world has seemed to be rent by

torturing doubts and by the menace of an approaching end. After having

been preserved from destruction by Christ for two thousand years, it

suddenly found itself in the throes of the most appalling upheaval yet

experienced, with the majority of its inhabitants engaged in a

murderous war. The dream of human brotherhood, glimpsed throughout the

centuries, seemed to be irretrievably threatened, and once more arose

the age-old question as to how the Reign of Love was to be introduced

upon earth.

The present era shows other striking analogies to the early days of

Christianity, as, for instance, in the democratic movement tending to

establish the sovereignity of the people. But it is no longer

exceptional men, like prophets, who proclaim the dawn of the age of

equality, but the masses themselves, under the guidance of their chosen

leaders. In the book of Enoch the Son of Man tears kings from their

thrones and casts them into Hell; but this was only an isolated seer

daring to predict misfortune for those who built their palaces "with

the sweat of others." The old-time prophets desired to reduce the rich

to the level of the poor, and a man denuded of all worldly goods was

held up as an ideal to be followed. This naturally necessitated

mendicity, and it was not till some centuries had passed that the

Church herself became reconciled to the possession of riches. Our own

age, however, desires to uplift the poor to the level of the rich, and

a more generous spirit is manifested, in accordance with the progress

made by the science of social reform. Still it is, at bottom, the same

spirit of brotherhood, enlarged and deepened, which now seeks to level

from below upwards instead of from above downwards. Distrust and

suspicion are directed chiefly towards the "New Rich," products of the

war, who have built up their fortunes on the ruin and misery of others,

and to these might be addressed the words of Jesus to the wealthy of

His time--"Be ye faithful stewards"--that is to say, "Make good

investments for the Kingdom of God in the interests of your fellow-men."

We are witnessing a revival of the "good tidings for the poor," in whom

may be included the whole human community. For the revolution of

to-day differs from that of the simple Galileans, and is of grave and

universal portent, proceeding, as it does, from men who have thought

and suffered, and profited by the disorder and misery of thousands of

years.

The Gospel is in process of being renovated. All these new churches

and beliefs can only serve to strengthen the great work in which the

"Word" is incarnated. Whether produced by deliberate thought or by

unconscious cerebration, whether professed by "saints" or practised by

"initiates," they hold up a mirror to the soul of contemporary humanity

with all its miseries and doubts; and for this reason, whatever their

nature or origin, they are deserving of sympathetic study.

There are great religions and small ones, and as with works of art, we

are apt to find in each, more or less, what we ourselves bring to it.

Jeremiah, when travelling through Ancient Egypt, felt indignation at

the sight of gods with hawks' or jackals' heads; while the touching

confessions of the dead, consigned to papyrus--"I have not killed! I

have not been idle! I have not caused others to weep!"--only drew from

him exclamations of anger and contempt. Herodotus, a century later,

also understood nothing of this world of mysterious tombs, with its

moral teachings thousands of years old, or of the great spiritual

revelation with which the land of the Pharaohs is impregnated. Both

alike--Jeremiah, unmoved by the cruelty and hardness of Jehovah,

Herodotus, oblivious to the sensuality and immorality of his own gods,

who, according to Xenophon, were adepts at thieving and lying--shook

their heads in dismay before the Egyptian symbols. But Plato, on the

contrary, was able to appreciate the harmonious beauty of a divine

Trinity, sublime incarnation of that which is "eternal, unproduced,

indestructible . . . eternally uniform and consistent, and monoeidic

with itself."

There are, no doubt, many Jeremiahs to-day, but there are also

understanding souls capable of taking an interest in even the most

bizarre manifestations of religious faith. These throw a revelatory

light upon some of the most painful problems of our time, as well as

upon the secret places of the human soul where lurks an ever eager

hope, often frustrated, and alas, often deceived.

All religious sects and reformers since the time of Christ have only

succeeded in modifying, renovating, uplifting or debasing the eternal

principles already enunciated by the Son of Man. He it was who founded

the integral religion for all time, but as it permits of the most

varied interpretations, innumerable and widely divergent sects have

been able to graft themselves upon its eternal trunk. After Him, said

Renan--who has been wrongly considered an opponent of Christ--there is

nothing to be done save to develop and to fertilize, for His perfect

idealism is the golden rule for a detached and virtuous life. He was

the first to proclaim the kingdom of the spirit, and has established

for ever the ideal of pure religion; and as His religion is a religion

of _feeling_, all movements which seek to bring about the kingdom of

heaven upon earth can attach themselves to His principles and to His

way of salvation.

Further, any religious movement which appeals to our higher instincts

must eventually contribute to the triumph of human brotherhood and to

the beautifying of human life--which increases the interest of studying

all attempts at revival and reform. Such a study will prevent us from

being overwhelmed by the uglinesses of life, or from becoming sunk in a

morass of material pleasures, and will open up ways of escape into the

heavenly realms.

The true teaching of Jesus has, as a matter of fact, never yet been

realised in practice. It holds up an ideal almost unattainable for

mortals, like the light of a fixed star which attracts us in spite of

its unthinkable distance. But we may, perhaps, by roundabout ways,

ultimately succeed in giving a definite form to the Platonic dreams

which ever hover around the shores of our consciousness. Among the

"saints" and "initiates" who work outside the borders of accepted

dogma, there are often to be found some whose originality and real

spiritual worth is not generally recognised, and instead of turning

away from their "visions" and "revelations," we should rather examine

them with close attention. Even if our faith gains nothing, we shall

be sure to pick up psychological treasures which could be turned to the

profit of science.

We have been re-living, in these recent years, the "desolation" of the

prophets, only that the suffering of the few in former times became

with us the suffering of all. There is the same difference between the

troubles of ancient Judea and those of the modern world, as there is

between her miniature wars and the colossal conflict whose aftermath is

with us still.

Yet now, as in the time of Isaiah, the nations long for eternal peace,

and the desire for a world more in harmony with man's deepest thoughts

and wishes is one of the dominant causes of religious schism and revolt.

Let us hope that the world-wide catastrophe that we have witnessed may

yet lead to the realisation of the ideal expressed by Jesus, and by the

ancient prophet before Him:--

"And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people:

and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears

into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation,

neither shall they learn war any more." And again--"The work of

righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness

and assurance for ever. And my people shall dwell in a peaceable

habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting places."

Many are being stirred to new life and action by dreams which hold, in

almost every case, some fragment of the longed-for truth, however

foolish or illogical in expression; and we should in consequence

approach the dreamers with all the sympathy of which we are capable.

Often their countenances are made beautiful by love, and they will, at

the least, provide us with a golden key to the fascinating mysteries of

man's subconscious mind. What though their doctrines vanish from sight

under the scalpel of analysis? It is no small pleasure to contemplate,

and even to examine closely, such delightful phantoms.