From the Boulevard du Palais on the east it is separated by a

magnificent eighteenth-century railing in wrought iron and gilt. On

this side lie the Salle des Pas Perdus and the Sainte-Chapelle. The

fine square tower known as the Clock Tower stands at the corner formed

by the Quai du Mord and the Boulevard du Palais; and on the north side

lies the Conciergerie prison with the dungeon once occupied by Marie

Antoinette.--_Gaston Meissas_

OLD BRYNHYFRYD GARDEN

by Kenneth Morris

There's a quiet old enchantment of the heart that's calling, calling

From when Myrddin wielded magic powers, and Gwydion wove his tales;

And you'll hear it any April morn, when the apple-bloom is falling

In old Brynhyfryd Garden, in White, Wild Wales.

There's an Ousel in the Orchard there, and dear knows what he's

telling;

But I think there's Welsh comes welling from his throat when no

one's nigh,

And it's he that in Cilgwri in the olden days was dwelling,

And he saw the Quest of Cilhwch, and the old worlds die.

There's a lonely, lofty spirit that will fire your soul with craving

For the kind and haughty glory of the old, Heroic Kings,

Where the foxglove and sweet-william on the turf-topped walls are

waving

In old Brynhyfryd Garden, when the West Wind sings.

There's a ruin filled with nettles, where I think Ceridwen lingers

When she's out to gather herbage for the Wisdom Broth she brews:

And maybe you'll close your eyes there, and you'll feel the touch of

fingers,

Or the dropping down of healing with the cool June dews.

Ancient Magic of the World, it's the fires of you are burning

When the Wind is in the pine tops, and the moon is o'er the vales;

It's a rumor of immortal hopes, Immortal Hearts returning

That's in old Brynhyfryd Garden in the white West of Wales.

International Theosophical Headquarters,

Point Loma, California

MISUSED POWERS: by R. W. Machell

"Use with care those living messengers we call words." So said William

Q. Judge, a very wise man.

The misuse of words seems a trifling matter to those who habitually

misuse every function of mind and body; but the results of perversion

are disastrous to body, mind, and soul. The misuse of terms, when

not due to ignorance of their legitimate meaning, is in itself an

indication of a perverted mind diseased by habitual misuse of the

functions of both body and mind, which two are so intimately related as

to share inevitably the consequences of right or wrong living.

The words we use and the way we use them are not mere accidents but

are sure indications of our mental condition, and the mind and body

are so mutually responsive that it is hard to say which affects the

other and which is the affected one, for habits of body are induced

by habits of mind and the mind in turn is influenced by the bodily

condition resulting from those habits. With self-indulgence as the

unfortunate rule of life, and with the ignorance of our own nature

and of our relation to others, which is almost universal, it is not

surprising that wrong living should be the general rule, and that

misuse of the powers of mind and body should be so common; nor is it

at all strange that there should be so much unhappiness in the world,

nor need we marvel if people in these conditions should think that

their sufferings, mental and physical, are due to everything except

their own misconduct. And if men can not see that they are indeed the

makers of their own sufferings, how shall they be able to realize their

responsibility to others? With selfishness as the rule of life, and

with ignorance of our interdependence, and of our intimate union one

with another throughout the whole world, it is quite natural that we

should feel little responsibility to others for the effects we produce

in the world by the use or misuse of words: a responsibility that is

increased by the spread of education and by the increase in the number

of persons who read without thinking, and who take thoughts from

books as they take water from a tap, unquestioning as to its quality.

Pure water is now recognized as essential to health and is supplied

in all civilized communities, but pure language and pure thought are

left to chance; and while the supply of literature is as plentiful as

the supply of water, the quality of our literature is not subject to

the same scrutiny as is our water-supply, and the stream of thought

that flows through the channels of our publications is frequently

contaminated by unhealthy and unwholesome matters. Purity of thought

and purity of words are essential values, for words are embodied

thoughts, and from thoughts spring deeds, and the deeds of man are his

life.

The responsibility of writers and speakers has hardly yet been

recognized; though illustrations of the dangers of trifling with

essential values, or of misusing talents, or indeed of perverting

from its right use any function, are actually supplied by some of

our brilliant writers, who have recklessly and often ignorantly

become apostles of mere degeneracy and powerful instruments for the

demoralization of the people. Even those who see the evils scarcely

seem to appreciate either the causes or the consequences of the

corruption of literature and the confusion of language.

Some recent reviewers, however, have begun to question more closely the

character of the influence exercised upon the world by some writers,

whose works have excited general or special admiration, even calling

some of them defaulters, for that, holding great talents, they have

used the light they held to dazzle the eyes and to confuse the minds of

others, so as to make them blind to the path of right living, which is

virtue or morality.

One of these critics, Paul Elmer More, literary editor of the New York

_Evening Post_, in a study of the influence of Walter Pater, distinctly

suggests that the author confused the truth and in fact misrepresented

history, reading his own desires and inclinations into the teachings of

Plato in one case, and in another of doing the same for Christianity,

making them appear to exalt sensuous beauty above spiritual beauty

which is the soul of virtue; whereas Plato himself exclaims: "When

anyone prefers beauty to virtue, what is this but the real and utter

dishonor of the soul?" Mr. More suggests that Christianity is equally

misrepresented by this brilliant writer, but in his perversion of the

real meaning and purpose of true Christianity he is simply drifting

with the tide of so-called Christian civilization, which has been,

almost from its first appearance as a politically established religion,

a clear departure from those teachings concerning the Christos in man,

attributed to Jesus, the supposed founder of the system, and which in

their original purity are identical with Universal Theosophy of which

they are a part and upon which they are drawn.

Further, Mr. More suggests that the demoralizing effect of Pater

may have largely affected that brilliant apostle of decadence, Oscar

Wilde, whose tragic collapse in the hour of his literary success drew

attention to an evil whose ravages have ruined multitudes of lives and

wrecked every civilization that has become tainted with the poison of

perversion. For this man exalted perversion into a cult, his wit was

entirely based upon it, his ethics steeped in it, and his own life

wrecked by it. He himself shows that he was not unaware of the truth,

at times, for he wrote:

Surely there was a time I might have trod

The sunlit heights, and from life's dissonance

Struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God;

Is that time dead? lo! with a little rod

I did but touch the honey of romance--

And must I lose a soul's inheritance?

And later, in that awful page of the tragedy of a fallen soul, _The

Ballad of Reading Gaol_, there is a sort of blind recognition of the

justice of Karma, which tolerates no perversion of Nature's order on

any plane, coupled with a noble and generous plea for the removal of

the unnecessary horrors of the prisons, in which we grind out the last

vestige of man's inherent love of virtue, and crush the last buds of

growth that the fallen soul may yet be able to put forth.

Here again was one, who exalted the beauty of the senses above the

beauty of the soul, and so soiled the whole nature and so perverted

the mind, which is the mirror of the man, that he produced a vortex of

vice, in which all who entered were bewildered and lost their guiding

star; in which many were utterly wrecked, and all defiled.

Professor Henderson in his critical interpretation of five authors,

points out so much of the evil that one can only regret that his grasp

of true psychology was not deep enough to enable him to make more clear

the distinction between the spiritual soul and the animal soul (not to

go further into the complex nature of the Soul), the great duality in

man that is the clue to all these mysteries. With this key one feels

that his study of Maeterlinck's philosophy would have become more

luminous, for surely this is a case, in which an author continually

confuses his audience, and perhaps also himself, by exalting the

sensuous joys of the animal soul, and the emotions of the imagination,

above the pure joy of true beauty, which is, as all poets, not only

Keats, have seen, the same as truth. Keats himself may have known the

difference, but his readers certainly must in most instances have

been misled and may have found in his lines a justification of their

own indulgence of morbid tastes, for however morbid may be a man's

condition he will still see beauty in pleasure of any kind, no matter

how vile may be its source. We may endorse the axiom in the first line

Beauty is truth, truth beauty

but must protest against the fallacy in the next line

... that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

No! we need to know what we mean by beauty, and we need to know that

the word conceals pitfalls innumerable for him who has no knowledge

of the true nature of man, for one who thinks he is his body, and who

believes his passions are the voices of his soul and who mistakes the

intoxication of sensuality for spiritual illumination, lust for love,

and perversion for genius. We need the teaching so clearly given in

"The Two Paths" translated by H. P. Blavatsky from _The Book of the

Golden Precepts_. We need to know that there is a chasm deep as hell

between these two souls in man, and that when the higher nature is the

slave of the lower then the man is in hell indeed; for as said by H. P.

Blavatsky, there is no other hell than that of a man-bearing planet.

Those who have stood on the brink of this hell with even partially

opened eyes, know that the terrors of hell invented by churchmen are

but as a comic interlude to the reality of horrors that life on earth

holds for masses of humanity, and from which there is no escape except

by the path of right living, based upon right perception of our own

true nature, and discrimination between the higher and the lower nature

in man, which is so often veiled by the false teachings of perverted

minds. We need the truth to discriminate the spiritual beauty that is

pure joy from the sensual beauty that intoxicates, blinds, and destroys

the life--and we need the guiding power of pure altruism to make our

writings useful to others and a full recognition of the responsibility

of those who now so lightly use "those living messengers we call

words."

IS EDUCATION WASTED? by H. T. Edge, B. A. (Cantab.)

No question is agitating us more than that of how to educate our young

people. We know there is something wrong about our achievements in

education, but we are often mistaken as to where the fault lies. The

commonest mistake is to confound principles with practice and to blame

the former where perhaps it is the latter which is at fault. We fail

to carry out certain plans, and we blame the plans and want to make a

clean sweep of them; when perhaps inefficiency in applying them is what

is really the matter. In fact, it is probably inefficiency, rather than

wrong principles, that is the matter with our educational doings, as

it is in the case of so many others of our doings. Before we condemn a

method, we should ask whether that method is being given a fair trial.

If we sweep away the system, without removing the general inefficiency,

then the same failure will attend our efforts to apply any new system

that may be devised. We shall have exchanged one evil for another.

There is more than one side to every question; but many of the

utterances on the educational difficulty give only one side. The result

is views that are extreme and ill-considered. Let us take a case.

Much of education is considered by some critics to be superfluous and

wasted, for the reason that it seems to bear no immediate and visible

fruit. Hence they wish to abolish it. Yet it is always possible that

it may bear fruit after all, but not of the kind they are able to see.

Take, for instance, the case of a girl of ordinary type, without any

definite characteristics whether good or bad. She is sent to school

and college. She is taught algebra and geometry, Latin and Greek,

music and painting, with many other subjects. She is reasonably clever

and absorbs all this with interest and ease. She leaves college--and

never again opens a book. The whole is quietly forgotten with as much

nonchalance as it was acquired. Is all the time and money and effort,

on the part of pupil and teachers, wasted?

Or let it be a boy, who has been taught similar subjects, but takes up

a calling in which they are not used. Is the instruction wasted? The

question arises in various forms, of which these two cases may be taken

as typical examples.

If it is true that the education thus given is really wasted, what

folly could be greater than that of continuing to impart it! Yet we

know that somehow the view taken is too extreme; that it is not in

accordance with the fitness of things that work involving so much

zeal, enthusiasm, and other good qualities should fall fruitless; that

people would not go on doing it if they did not have some intuition

that the labor is not really in vain.

In short, may it not be possible that this is one of those cases in

which a dilemma has arisen through the limitation of our knowledge

of human nature and the laws of life; a dilemma resolvable by the

wider knowledge shed by Theosophy? A knowledge of Reincarnation, the

dual nature of man, and other related matters, clears up many of the

enigmas of life, as for instance what becomes of all the abilities and

experience which a man has garnered during life, when he dies. May not

a similar knowledge shed light on the present problem also? If so, then

our beliefs would be reconciled with our intuitions, and practices

which logic has seemed to condemn might be vindicated in the light of

fuller knowledge.

For one thing, a conviction of the continuity of individual existence

beyond the grave, in other earth-lives, more or less similar to the

present life, affects the whole question profoundly. For we may at

once infer that knowledge accumulated now, but not immediately used,

may be used later on. And indeed this idea quite agrees with what many

analogies from Nature suggest. Youth is the time for study; maturer

age brings other duties. Let us compare a lifetime with a day. In the

morning a man studies many subjects; but after noon he shuts his books,

never thinks of them again, and spends the remainder of the day in

other occupations, followed by recreation and ending in sleep. Has his

labor been wasted? Nay, for he will resume it next morning. Can we not

apply this analogy to the case of the young person whose education has

had, or seemed to have, no immediate practical result?

We thus see how limited views as regards the duration of life may

influence the question. But there are other limitations in our views;

let us see how these in turn may affect the question.

We are accustomed to pay too much attention to a man's capacity as a

separate individual, and not enough to his capacity as a part of a

whole. No being in the universe is entirely separate from other beings

however much he may try to make himself so or imagine himself to be so.

This is especially applicable to Mind. How much of our mind is our own?

It has been argued that Mind is a kind of common atmosphere, in which

all partake, and that thoughts are interchanged freely, the notion that

they belong particularly to oneself being chiefly an illusion. The

more this is true, the more it must be true that in teaching one person

we are in reality teaching many persons, teaching mankind in general.

Does a teacher teach persons or minds? To him it often seems as if he

were developing Mind, and the distinction of personalities is apt to

disappear. Yet this attitude on his part may not be mere carelessness

and indifference to the interests of his pupils; it may be founded on

an intuitive perception of the fact that personality does not count

for so much and that his pupils also have a collective capacity, an

aggregate value, which counts for a great deal.

Another way in which we limit our outlook, and thus obtain a false

perspective, is in regarding too intently the immediate (and, as we

say, "practical") outcome of education. There is such a thing as a

general education, an education not directed to any immediate or

definite end, but having in view the general culture and refinement of

the pupils. It is true, of course, that this argument can be used, and

is used, to justify kinds of teaching which really are undesirable;

it is true that in aiming at a general education, we may overdo the

process; it is true that such overdoing puts a weapon into the hands of

our opponents and goes some way towards justifying their arguments. But

aside from these abuses, the principle itself remains true. There must

be a certain amount of general culture, culture of a kind that has no

immediate practical end in view.

Let us try to imagine the results of applying some of the wrongly

called "practical" methods to an extreme degree. This boy is to be a

shoemaker: teach him shoemaking and nothing else. This girl is to sew

or cook: teach her sewing and cooking, but nothing else. At that rate

society would become a world of machines, and general culture and love

of knowledge would disappear.

Finally, to name a fourth limitation in our outlook, there is the error

of mistaking the principle itself for its application, the system for

the way in which it is carried out, the institution for the use that

is made of it. Thus we often lay the blame in the wrong place. Before

we sweep away a system, let us find out whether it is the system that

is at fault or the application of it; otherwise we may find equally

faulty results proceeding from any new system which we may adopt. Is it

inefficiency which is at the root of the evil? If so, let us remedy the

inefficiency and then it will be time to see about changing the system.

The education question, like so many other questions, is in a state of

chaos. Something is the matter, but people do not know just what it is.

The suggested cures are many. Rash experiments are made. The remedies

threaten to be worse than the disease. One thing seems generally agreed

upon--that our education does not confer perfect efficiency. What

we really need is a general education that will give efficiency in

reading, writing, speaking, ciphering; in power of attention, memory,

concentration; in adaptability, readiness of resource; obedience,

order, self-command. No need to enumerate all the requirements;

everybody knows what they are and what is needed. Efficient people

are needed everywhere; but, above all, people with self-command and

free from weaknesses. If we could but turn out this kind of product,

much less in the way of technical schools would be needed; for such

pupils would be so apt and teachable that they could readily master

anything. The difficulties as to the nature of the curriculum, whether

it should include Greek and Latin, and, if so, how much; what history

should be taught, and how it should be taught; whether theoretical

grammar should be taught, or whether the pupil should acquire grammar

unconsciously from his reading--all these and many more problems would

settle themselves, or at least our point of view concerning them

would be altogether altered. As it is, most of these problems resolve

themselves into the one problem of how to produce good fruit from a

neglected tree. So long as the pupils have not been trained in the

control of their faculties, moral and mental, it is difficult to teach

them anything, no matter which method you adopt. And if they have been

properly trained in their early years, the question of what to teach

them sinks into comparative unimportance, because they will be able to

make use of all their opportunities.

The root of the whole difficulty, therefore, is this: that people have

no definite philosophy of life to serve as a foundation for efforts.

With religious beliefs all undermined and mixed up, and nothing to

take their place but various theories wrongly labeled "scientific," it

is no wonder if folk should find themselves incompetent to solve the

educational problem. We need to understand first what a man is and what

is his destiny; we need to think of the Soul as having existed before

it entered its present body, and as being destined to exist again

after it has left that body. We need to know the difference between

the higher and the lower nature in a person, and how the two are

interblended. Then we should not have rash schemes which ignore this

distinction and propose to let the lower nature run wild. We should

then know how to give the higher nature its freedom without letting the

lower nature run wild.

It all comes to this: that tools are not of use without men to handle

them; and that in our scheming we are trying to devise tools which will

turn unskilled workmen into skilled. The primary factor in education

is the man itself. The question begins at birth--even before birth.

When the time comes, as come it must, when people will find themselves

compelled by necessity to recognize the efficacy of Theosophy, then

many problems will be solved. Theosophy means a getting back to simple

yet profound truths--such simple truths as can be applied to any

circumstances. These alone can grapple successfully with the problems.

THE TEMPLE OF THESEUS, ATHENS: by R.

The Theseion, the so-called Temple of Theseus, in Athens, belongs

to the second period of classical Greek architecture, which may be

considered to have flourished between B. C. 470 and 338, the dates

of the Persian war and the Macedonian supremacy. It is one of the

most beautiful examples of the Doric order, and is more perfect than

any other building we have of ancient Greece. It probably owes its

excellent preservation to the fact that it was turned into a Christian

church during the Middle Ages. It is made of the famous white Pentelic

marble, which has changed, by lapse of time, to a lovely golden yellow

hue. It greatly resembles the Parthenon, but covers a little less than

half the area, and is not so exquisitely proportioned. The Theseion was

erected a few years before the Parthenon, probably about B. C. 460. It

is one hundred and four feet long by forty-five wide, and the columns

are nineteen feet high. Like most of the finest Grecian buildings it

does not depend upon mere size for impressiveness. From the remains of

sculpture still existing the following subjects have been ascertained:

The achievements of Theseus (whence the name); The Labors of Hercules;

and the battle of the Athenians, the Lapithae, and the Centaurs.

Fifty of the _metopes_ (the squares into which the frieze is divided)

were never adorned with sculpture, but were probably painted, for the

Doric Temples are now known to have been painted both externally and

internally. The groups in the pediments (the uppermost triangular

portions) are entirely lost.

[Illustration: Lomaland Photo. and Engraving Dept. TEMPLE OF THESEUS,

ATHENS, GREECE]

[Illustration: Lomaland Photo. and Engraving Dept. STOA, GYMNASIUM OF

HADRIAN, ATHENS]

RECENT ADMISSIONS BY ARCHAEOLOGISTS: by a Student

The Theosophical Path Illustrated Monthly Volume 1, July-December, 1911 · 第 9 / 49 段