There, in your garden, is a plant, busily engaged in collecting
material for its future growth, although you can see nothing as yet
above the ground. Still in the darkness of the earth it is sending out
numerous root-threads amongst many strange material things, of which
some serve it as nourishment. Buried in the soil without any visible
link with the life of the air above, it lies, dormant and inactive
until that life above reaches it with its beneficent influence in the
form of rain and sunshine, quickening the soul of the plant to begin
the weaving of its material garb on the already present ideal form.
And then, one day, the budding life breaks through the soil separating
it from the air, and from now on a new life is entered upon, a double
existence. The roots in the dark "prison of earth" continue to collect
nourishment for the redoubled activity needed to build the ideal form.
But the plant is now directly nourished and stimulated to growth by
water and air and sunshine by means of its leaves as well. And thus,
in proper time, the culmination comes in form of the flower, in its
beauty really belonging to another world and a constant promise of a
higher life. When it has given its message, blended its note of form,
color, and fragrance in the great symphony of vegetable life, it passes
away to rest; but in doing so it produces a store of seeds for future
plant-lives similar to its own, thus binding together past and future
and securing the continuity of its species.
How much food for thought there is in a simple picture that we
constantly have before us! How thoughts and analogies built upon it
help us--far better than the filling of our brains with narrow and
petty theories without any spark of life, or the poisoning of our
emotional life by our artificial aims and desires. Men are overburdened
by false ideas and unsound emotions of their own making. Purification
of heart, mind, and body, is surely needed, before the wholesome
influences always reaching us from the Center of Life can make us grow
rightly, intensely, though quietly and in silence.
"I am not of this world," said the great Master whom the Western
world professes to follow. It was the Christos that spoke thus, the
spiritual, glorious, ideal being that breathes the air of the higher
life. Each of us has--nay, each one in essence is--the Christos, though
few have consciously and purposely taken up the great task before
us all: to weave the worthy, shining garment that will allow this
spiritual being to take actual form in manifested existence. Man is not
like the flower, he is self-conscious, and he cannot grow as the flower
grows until he freely uses his self-consciousness in full accordance
with the laws of life. He cannot hope to burst through the dark soil of
material existence that separates him from the air where the spiritual
sun sheds its glory until, in every moment of daily life, he feels its
influence and adjusts his life accordingly, gathering nourishment from
all his duties, from all the opportunities that the threads of his mind
may encounter, and pushing upwards all the time.
_Trust_ is the key to it all, the magic power that will bring the
human plant to bloom. _Compassion_ is the guiding power for the mental
root-threads in their work of gathering nourishment; the giving of
the good tidings to all we can reach, the extending of aid to all as
we progress. And when the glorious moment arrives when the soil opens
above us, there comes redoubled activity in our earthly life, reaching
out farther and farther, inspiring and stimulating more and more the
hearts of the "hosts of souls" that grope blindly in the dark and
finally have come to doubt even the existence of any spiritual life.
We watch the plant in our garden and nurse it even before we see any
visible sign of its growth, knowing that it will blossom in due time.
Have we ever thought that there may be beings in the spiritual world
that watch the humans in like manner and give them the tenderest care?
Have we thought of how some already may have reached up into the air
of spiritual existence, preparing to bloom, or already blooming, or,
in going to rest, scattering all over the earth seeds of potential
spiritual growth? How these may be working with all the powers of
heart, mind, and body, to give the good tidings to us that still
struggle in the dark? How they are to be recognized by that divine
Compassion that does not shut out anyone of the blind and faltering
human beings, and how they are able to inspire that Trust which acts
like a kindling spark, producing light and order in a chaos?
The sun does not enter into the growth of a plant otherwise than
spiritually, inspiring and drawing it upwards. It is not of this world;
and yet it is the basis of all growth in this world. So even in human
life; the Christos stands apart from all nature's activity, and yet it
is illuminating every particle therein, living in the heart-life of
all. The mind can open to its rays by acting in unison with the heart,
by finding its way upward in trust, and by expanding, as compassion
makes it embrace ever wider circles of earthly existence. Seen thus,
earth-life, dark and confusing as it still often may be, has its great
purpose and is felt to be the means of a glorious spiritual blossoming.
Every thought and act may then serve the interblending of the spiritual
influences with the lives of our fellows, and as purification proceeds
and the life-currents more and more easily and normally find their
course through our hearts and minds, Joy becomes manifest and comes to
stay with us, the Joy of True Living, precursor of the blossoming of
the spiritual life.
In this work of bursting through the dark soil of material existence,
woman has her predominant position. Being in close contact with nature
she can clothe the spiritual rays entering her heart in a thousand
forms that make everything she touches radiant in its turn. And she
can protect the sanctuary thus brought down to earth. If her trust is
sublime, her spiritual will unflinching, none will dare to desecrate
it. She can challenge others to leave the false and cheap glitter of
life, for the precious jewels of the higher life. How glorious her
position as guardian of the home, if she enters into it in the right
spirit, trustingly! The seeds of love and unselfishness, scattered
over the earth by those who already have blossomed forth in the higher
glory, may in such a home find the soil needed for their quickening.
And what a reward for a mother to watch over and guide such a soul in
acquiring a serviceable instrument for the delivering of its message of
Truth, Light, and Liberation!
The most fertile soil is often composed of the most unpleasant and
incongruous ingredients, and it is often the darkest. Our age is
certainly dark, but just _because_ of the swift vibrations of material
life it permits a growth that could not be equaled at any other time.
This century has to make a bold step forward towards the realization
of a higher life. Let the woman who feels its urge and who longs to
help and serve, know that by doing rightly the small duties that lie
nearest at hand, her path will gradually widen. The plant blooms where
the seed falls. What woman cannot, deep within the heart, feel some
hint of the glory and joy of stepping forth as a conscious worker with
nature?
One of the most wonderful passages in the pearl of the Eastern
scriptures, the Bhagavad-Gîtâ, that poem of the spiritual life, is
where Arjuna discovers the majesty of Krishna, whom he had taken
for a friend and at times had treated "without respect in sport, in
recreation, in repose, in thy chair, and at thy meals, in private and
in public"; and where he exclaims: "Forgive, O Lord, as the friend
forgives the friend, as the father pardons his son, as the lover the
beloved." We will all some day waken to find Krishna, the Christos, at
our side. But we must ask ere we can receive, we must call before the
inner Christ can show himself in his true form, before he really can
help us. We must change our whole attitude, our polarity, and drink in
the light from above. We must let Sun-life illuminate Earth-life and
draw forth the divine blossoms.
THE SPADE OF THE ARCHAEOLOGIST: THE RESURRECTION OF TRUTH--ERROR'S
FUNERAL: by Ariomardes
The resurrection of the prehistoric age of Greece, and the disclosure
of the astonishing standard of civilization which had been attained
on the mainland and in the isles of the Aegean at a period at least
2000 years earlier than that at which Greek history, as hitherto
understood, begins, may be reckoned as among the most interesting
results of modern research into the relics of the life of past ages....
All preconceived ideas may be upset by the results of a single
season's spade work on some ancient site. The work is by no means
complete; but already the dark gulf of time that lay behind the Dorian
conquest is beginning to yield up the unquestionable evidences of a
great and splendid and almost incredibly ancient civilization....
Most surprising of all, in many respects, was the revelation of the
amazingly complete system of drainage with which the palace was
provided. Indeed the hydraulic science of the Minoan architects is
altogether wonderful in the completeness with which it provided for
even the smallest details....
Perhaps the most striking and interesting result that has been
attained is the remarkable confirmation given to the broad outlines
of those traditions about Crete which have survived in the legends and
in the narratives of the Greek historians.--_The Scientific American_,
in a review of James Baikie's _Sea Kings of Crete_.
Preconceived ideas may certainly be said to be in a precarious
situation, if they can be so easily upset by a spade. Pagan tradition,
however, comes out triumphant. Should we not therefore, place more
faith in the pagan legends than in the preconceived ideas?
Refusing to believe that the Greek legends were imaginary, Schliemann
and his successors investigated the sites at Troy, Tiryns and Mykenae,
there discovering the old civilization described. Now we learn
that this was but the dying remnant of a still older and grander
civilization whose center was Crete. How much more has the spade to
reveal to us? How much further will discovery go? It can but show, as
revelation follows revelation, that the map of ancient history sketched
in H. P. Blavatsky's _The Secret Doctrine_ is correct; that our annals,
as far as we can trace them back, record not a rise but a fall. The
present Fifth Root-Race of humanity, being in its middle course, has
reached the lowest point of its cycle before its reascent; the earlier
of its seven sub-races have lived; some of the most enduring of their
colossal works in masonry have survived, silent yet eloquent witnesses.
The spade is slowly uncovering the vestiges of civilization gradually
rising in knowledge and culture as we go backwards; until at last the
completed chain of history will conduct us to the glory of our Race in
the Golden Age of its birth.
Confirmation, Theosophy has in plenty, as H. P. Blavatsky foretold of
the dawning years of this century. Recognition, it may get later. And
this important question arises: Will archaeologists, while admitting
the truth of the Theosophical teachings about history, also admit
those teachings as to the nature of Man and other kindred subjects,
which logically depend on the historical teachings? If not, then,
Archaeology, thy name is inconsistency. For Nineteenth Century views of
the origin of man will not fit.
And let us not become so absorbed over the Aegeans as to forget the
rest of the world and devise theories to account for our own particular
discoveries regardless of the discoveries in other fields. The ancient
Chimu civilization recently uncovered in Peru claims our attention.
History in America too goes back through rising stages to a mightier
past. And linking all, we have the admissions, now being made on all
sides, as to the truth of the Theosophical teachings (in _The Secret
Doctrine_) about Atlantis. This links together the prehistoric cultures
of the Old World and the New.
Even in mechanical science there was prowess, as we learn in connexion
with these drainage works of Crete. Perhaps we have been wont to solace
our pride by the reflection that if the Egyptians surpassed us in
building, and the Greeks in art, in science at least we bear the palm.
But is this consolation merely based on the fact that the civilizations
with which we have so far been familiar have not expended their genius
in that particular direction? Could antiquity have surpassed us in
applied science also, if it had had the mind to apply its abilities
in that direction? Nay, have there actually been civilizations which
surpassed us? This particular Cretan culture seems to have been
distinguished by many features which connect it more with modern times
than with the intervening Greek culture. The same has been said with
regard to the choice and treatment of subjects in the decorative and
imitative pottery unearthed on the Chimu site in Peru.
THE LANDS NOW SUBMERGED: by Durand Churchill
To those persons who are interested in geographical facts and
geological statistics, as well as to those who are students of
climatology, the following remarkable features of the great bodies
of water which cover such a large part of the surface of this globe,
a part of the surface which in bygone ages has borne upon it races
of people from whom our remote ancestors were descended, will be of
interest.
Thanks to modern energy, skill, and perseverance, the great oceans have
been sounded practically throughout, so that today we have published
maps, which show quite clearly enough the general contour of the ocean
bottoms.
From these we see that the floor of the ocean is an extensive plain, or
series of plains, lying at an average depth of about two and one-half
miles beneath the ocean surface. In some places, gigantic mountain
ranges rise up from these submerged plains to the very surface of the
ocean, or to within points so near the surface that they form dangerous
reefs, and volcanic islands.
The depth of the ocean thus varies quite as irregularly and as
precipitously as does the level of dry lands in the mountain ranges of
Switzerland or South America or India. So far as is officially known
in 1911, the greatest depth in the Atlantic Ocean is found between the
West Indies and Bermuda, at a point called the Nares Deep, which is
4662 fathoms, or 27,972 feet. The greatest depth, so far discovered in
the Indian Ocean, is between Christmas Island and the coast of Java,
which is 3828 fathoms, and is called the Wharton Deep.
The greatest depth, so far discovered in the Pacific Ocean is called
the Challenger (or Nero) Deep in the North Pacific, which is 5269
fathoms (31,614 feet). To get a comparative idea of this great depth,
we can imagine the highest mountain in the world placed in this depth
of water, and would then find that the peak of this great mountain
would be 2600 feet below the surface of the sea. Thus could Mount
Everest be lost in the depths of the Pacific Ocean.
There are, at present on record, fifty-six of these great holes in the
sea bottoms which exceed three miles in depth. There are ten areas
which lie at a depth greater than four miles, and four places where the
depth exceeds five miles.
The depth seems to bear a certain relation to the salinity of the
water, for it is found that the amount of salt held in solution is less
as the depth increases. This of course is the effect of temperature and
pressure changes, as well as the greater quietness of the subsurface
waters.
The composition of the salts found in sea-water, that is the
proportional amounts of the various component salts, does not vary
materially in the different parts of the ocean, although the degree of
saturation does vary, as above explained.
The temperature of the ocean varies, at the surface, from 28° F. at the
poles, to over 80° F. in the tropics. The cold water, near the poles,
at any given point, varies less than 10° F.; and the warm water of the
tropics, likewise has a variation, annually, of less than 10° F., in a
band that nearly encircles the earth; this band, it is interesting to
observe, is the region of coral reefs.
Between these regions of small annual variation, there are two bands
surrounding the earth, where the annual temperature variation is
greater, and may at some spots even exceed 40° F.
[Illustration: Lomaland Photo. and Engraving Dept. AMSTERDAM: THE
"GREEN CANAL," AND THE STEEPLE OF THE ZUIDERKERK ("SOUTH CHURCH")]
[Illustration: Lomaland Photo. and Engraving Dept. OIL CREEK FALLS,
WATERTON LAKES, ALBERTA, CANADA]
[Illustration: The Screen of Time]
BOOK REVIEWS: Charles Morice's "Il est ressuscité":
by H. A. Fussell
Once to every man and nation
Comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth with falsehood,
For the good or evil side.
That there do occur critical periods in the lives of nations and
of individuals, when the irrevocable step is taken which allies
them definitely with the beneficent or maleficent forces which are
contending for the mastery of the world, has become a truism. It is
seldom a spectacular contest--this "battle of Armageddon"; even when it
is, at the moment of choice we are alone, face to face with the Higher
Self.
The many and varied ways in which this contest may occur furnish the
moralist and the preacher with occasions for the highest flights of
eloquence, and it forms the background of history, biography, and
fiction. One of its most recent presentations is by Charles Morice in
his book _Il est ressuscité!_ of which we give a résumé.
One day in the middle of December the Parisians were surprised on
opening their daily papers to see the last page perfectly blank, all
the questionable advertisements had disappeared, no Stock Exchange
news, all the transactions by which clever financiers attract the
unwary and pile up their millions, had been suppressed. Why? No one
could say! Amazement on all faces! It was the same the next day, and
the next--even the feuilleton, containing the inevitable sensational
and sometimes salacious story was no more. At the Bourse itself there
was "nothing doing"; would-be purchasers were told of the watered
stocks, were advised not to buy.
In the evening the leading journalists met as usual at the "Lapin Cru."
They were no wiser than the rest. Consternation was on all faces.
Their occupation was gone, there was not a single piquant event in
all Paris--suddenly become virtuous--to write up. On unfolding their
papers--the first impression was always brought in at midnight by the
office-boys from the publishers--on one of the blank pages was this
notice in small print:
The Son of God needs no advertising. He has put up at the Three Kings'
Hotel, Place de l'Étoile. He will be at home from noon to noon, all
the day, the 14th of December and tomorrow.
Narda, a prince among journalists, sat apart, moodily. Suddenly he
became aware of a man opposite him at the next table.
But what a man! There was in fact nothing remarkable about him, except
that perhaps he lacked precisely those little peculiarities and
idiosyncracies which distinguish one man from another. Yet he was a
fine man, but his remarkable beauty did not cause surprise. The fact
is, that one would have been surprised, nay scandalized, if it were
not so, for his beauty, formed of the perfect equilibrium of all the
elements of his person, revealed man in his ordinary and magnificent
integrity. It was as if necessitated by the soul, sovereignly and
ineffably serene, which shone in the eyes of the man: a constant,
rich, intense light, eclipsing the crude brilliancy of the electric
lights, and forming a halo in his unusually long hair. Narda was not
dazzled by the light: on the contrary, he felt himself illuminated by
it to the very depths of his being. He looked at this unknown man with
a sympathy mingled with trust and deference. He had no desire to speak
to him, to question him, fully satisfied by his presence alone, the
presence of _a man_. A real man! he said to himself, and not a puppet
like my comrades and myself.
The stranger went, Narda scarcely knew how; and without him the room,
life itself, seemed empty and vain again.
The subject is not new--the incompatibility of the Christ and modern
civilization. We are all acquainted with sensational pictures, painted
by well-known artists, depicting Christ in the midst of decadent modern
society, with all its revolting contrasts; or with lurid sketches
written by clever journalists; but never have we seen the subject
treated with so much reverence and psychological insight as in the work
before us. Read the scene the following night at the "Lapin Cru," where
Narda was sure he would meet again with the Son of God. They communed
as of old the disciples with the Master.
"I thought, Lord, you were to come in a different manner."
"Are you also without intelligence?" Jesus replied. "Visible or
invisible the Son of Man comes every day."
The question rose to the lips of Narda: "You come, doubtless, to finish
the work begun two thousand years ago?"
"It is finished to all eternity."
"Why then have you not conquered?"
"Because I wished to leave to you the merit of the victory."
After some further talk, Narda, who has been led into the depths of
his own conscience, depths unsuspected by him before, exclaims: "Lord,
perhaps you are only _myself_, my self raised to perfectness...."
"But has not one of your writers said: 'It is only God who is really
man.' How do you know, if I have not become _little by little_ divine?"
And while they were speaking Jesus was giving, at "the Three Kings,"
in its three hundred rooms, _private_ audience to three hundred
interviewers at the same time, and to each he appeared different. On
leaving, some declared he had fair hair, others that it was dark. To
the philosopher he appeared a philosopher; to the artist more beautiful
than Apollo; to the soldier a divine warrior.
Last of all came "the Scribes and Pharisees," as of old, to question
him. "Are you really the Son of God?" "Are you going to tell us again
that salvation is difficult for the rich?" "Are you going to be
crucified anew?" and so on. The Churches held aloof. _He had not come
as they expected._
We will not describe how our author solves the problems, economic,
social, and religious, which this unsuspected advent of Jesus causes in
Paris. It suffices to say that the crisis was met and tided over for
the time being.
One circumstance, however, must be mentioned: woman was honored as
never before. Civil marriage alone is legal in France; in more than
sixty per cent of the couples presenting themselves before the civil
authorities for the ratification of their marriage, the unexpected
happened. Instead of the perfunctory "Yes" which was almost invariably
the rule, one or other of the contracting parties would say "No."
There were no more ill-assorted matches, none of those crimes against
humanity that the marriage service, not only among the French, but in
every nation, condones. And the children, they had never been so happy
before, so unrestrained, and yet so well-behaved. Even the youths and
maidens, as they walked through the streets or wandered in the parks,
showed a self-restraint and tenderness for one another never remarked
before. Older people stood and looked after them in wonder. Something
idyllic and noble had entered into and stopped the bantering, mocking,
scoffing tone of the average Parisian. It was beautiful, some thought
it unnatural--would it last?