TRADITIONS OF THE ANCIENT WISDOM-RELIGION.
I have dwelt so far on the nature of certain experiences (which I
have not however attempted to describe) and on the methods by which,
specially in India, they are sought to be obtained; and I have done
so in general terms, and with an endeavor to assimilate the subject
to Western ideas, and to bring it into line with modern science and
speculation. I propose in this chapter to dwell more especially on the
formal side of our friend’s teaching--which will bring out into relief
the special character of Eastern thought and its _differences_ from our
present-day modes of thought.
I must however again warn the reader against accepting anything I
say, except with the greatest reserve, and especially not to broaden
out into sweeping generalities any detailed statement I may happen to
make. People often ask for some concise account of Indian teaching
and religion. Supposing some one were to ask for a concise account
of the Christian teaching and religion--which of us, with all our
familiarity with the subject, could give an account which the others
would accept? From the question whether Jesus and Paul were initiates
in the Eastern mysteries--as the modern Gurus claim that they were,
and as I think there can be no doubt that they were, either by
tradition or by spontaneous evolution; through the question of the
similarity and differences of their teaching; the various schools of
early Christianity; the Egyptian influences; the Gnostic sects and
philosophy; the formation and history of the Church, its organisations,
creeds and doctrines; mediæval Christianity and its relation to
Aristotle; the mystic teachers of the 13th and 14th centuries; the
ascetic and monastic movements; the belief in alchemy and witchcraft;
the miracles of the Saints; the Protestant movement and doctrines,
etc., etc.; down to the innumerable petty sects of to-day and all
their conflicting views on the atonement and the sacraments and the
inspiration of the Bible, and all the rest of it--who would be so bold
as to announce the gist and resume of it all in a few brief sentences?
Yet the great Indian evolution of religious thought--while historically
more ancient--is at least equally vast and complex and bewildering in
its innumerable ramifications. I should feel entirely incompetent to
deal with it as a whole--and here at any rate am only touching upon the
personality and utterances of one teacher, belonging to a particular
school, the South Indian.
This Guru was, as I have said, naturally one of those who insisted
largely--though not by any means exclusively--on the moral and
ultra-moral sides of the teaching; and from this point of view his
personality was particularly remarkable. His gentleness and kindliness,
combined with evident power; and inflexibility and intensity
underlying; his tense eyes, as of the seer, and gracious lips and
expression, and ease and dignity of figure; his entire serenity and
calm--though with lots of vigor when needed; all these were impressive.
But perhaps I was most struck--as the culmination of character and
manhood--by his perfect simplicity of manner. Nothing could be more
unembarrassed, unselfconscious, direct to the point in hand, free
from kinks of any kind. Sometimes he would sit on his sofa couch in
the little cottage, not unfrequently, as I have said, with bare feet
gathered beneath him; sometimes he would sit on a chair at the table;
sometimes in the animation of discourse his muslin wrap would fall from
his shoulder, unnoticed, showing a still graceful figure, thin, but by
no means emaciated; sometimes he would stand for a moment, a tall and
dignified form; yet always with the same ease and grace and absence
of self-consciousness that only the animals and a few among human
beings show. It was this that made him seem very near to one, as if the
ordinary barriers which divide people were done away with; and if this
was non-differentiation working within, its external effect was very
admirable.
I dwell perhaps the more on these points of character, which made me
feel an extraordinary _rapprochement_ and unspoken intimacy to this
man, because I almost immediately found on acquaintance that on the
plane of ordinary thought and scientific belief we were ever so far
asunder, with only a small prospect, owing to difficulties of language,
etc., of ever coming to an understanding. I found--though this of
course gave a special interest to his conversation--that his views of
astronomy, physiology, chemistry, politics and the rest, were entirely
unmodified by Western thought and science--and that they had come
down through a long line of oral tradition, continually reinforced by
references to the sacred books, from a most remote antiquity. Here
was a man who living in a native principality under an Indian rajah,
and skilled in the learning of his own country, had probably come
across very few English at all till he was of mature years, had not
learned the English language, and had apparently troubled himself but
little about Western ideas of any kind. I am not a stickler for modern
science myself, and think many of its conclusions very shaky; but I
confess it gave me a queer feeling when I found a man of so subtle
intelligence and varied capacity calmly asserting that the earth was
the centre of the physical universe and that the sun revolved about it!
With all seriousness he turned out the theory (which old Lactantius
_Indicopleustes_ introduced from the East into Europe about the 3rd
century A.D.)--namely that the earth is flat, with a great hill, the
celebrated Mount Meru, in the north, behind which the sun and moon
and other heavenly bodies retire in their order to rest. He explained
that an eclipse of the moon (then going on) was caused by one of the
two “dark planets,” Ráku or Kétu (which are familiar to astrology),
concealing it from view. He said (and this is also an ancient doctrine)
that there were 1,008 solar or planetary systems similar to ours,
some _above_ the earth, some _below_, and some on either hand. As to
the earth itself it had been destroyed and recreated many times in
successive æons, but there had never been a time when the divine
knowledge had not existed on it. There had always been an India (_gñána
bhumi_, or Wisdom-land, in contradistinction to the Western _bhoga
bhumi_, or land of pleasure), and always Vedas or Upanishads (or books
corresponding) brought by divine teachers. (About modern theories of
submerged continents and lower races in the far past he did not appear
to know anything or to have troubled his head, nor did he put forth any
views on this subject of the kind mentioned by Sinnett in his _Esoteric
Buddhism_. Many of his views however were very similar to those given
in that book.)
His general philosophy appeared to be that of the Siddhantic system,
into which I do not propose to go in any detail--as it may be found
in the books; and all such systems are hopelessly dull, and may be
said to carry their own death-warrants written on their faces. The
Indian systems of philosophy bear a strong resemblance to the Gnostic
systems of early Christian times--which latter were no doubt derived
from the East. They all depend upon the idea of emanation--which is
undoubtedly an important idea, and corresponds to some remarkable facts
of consciousness; but the special forms in which the idea is cast in
the various systems are not very valuable.
The universe in the Siddhantic system is composed of five elements--(1)
ether, (2) air, (3) fire, (4) water, and (5) earth; and to get over
the obvious difficulties which arise from such a classification, it
is explained that these are not the _gross_ ether, air, fire, water
and earth that we know, but _subtle_ elements of the same name--which
are themselves perfectly pure but by their admixture produce the gross
elements. Thus the air we know is not a true element, but is formed by
a mixture of the subtle air with small portions of the subtle ether,
subtle fire, subtle water, and subtle earth; and so on. This explains
how it is there may be various kinds of air or of water or of earth.
Then the five subtle elements give rise to the five forms of sensation
in the order named--(1) Sound, (2) Touch, (3) Form, (4) Taste, (5)
Smell; and to the five corresponding organs of sense. Also there are
five intellectual faculties evolved by admixture from the subtle
elements, namely, (1) The inner consciousness, which has the quality of
ether or space, (2) Thought (_manas_) which has the quality of aerial
agitation and motion, (3) Reason (_buddhi_) which has the quality of
light and fire, (4) Desire (_chittam_) which has the emotional rushing
character of water, (5) The I-making faculty (_ahankára_), which has
the hardness and resistance of the earth. Also the five organs of
action, the voice, the hands, the feet, the anus, and the penis in the
same order; and the five vital airs which are supposed to pervade the
different parts of the body and to impel their action.
This is all very neat and compact. Unfortunately it shares the
artificial character which all systems of philosophy have, and which
makes it quite impossible to accept any of them. I think our friend
quite recognised this; for more than once he said, and quoted the
sacred books to the same effect, that “Everything which can be thought
is untrue.” In this respect the Indian philosophy altogether excels
our Western systems (except the most modern). It takes the bottom out
of its own little bucket in the most impartial way.
Nevertheless, whatever faults they may have, and however easy it may
be to attack their thought-forms, the great Indian systems (and those
of the West the same) are no doubt based upon deep-lying facts of
consciousness, which it must be our business some time to disentangle.
I believe there are facts of consciousness underlying such unlikely
things as the evolution of the five subtle elements, even though the
_form_ of the doctrine may be largely fantastic. The primal element,
according to this doctrine, is the ether or _space_ (_Akása_), the two
ideas of space and ether being curiously identified, and the other
elements, air, fire, etc., are evolved in succession from this one
by a process of thickening or condensation. Now this consciousness
of space--not the material space, but the space within the soul--is
a form of the supreme consciousness in man, the _sat-chit-ánanda_
Brahm--Freedom, Equality, Extension, Omnipresence--and is accompanied
by a sense which has been often described as a combination of all the
senses, sight, hearing, touch, etc., in one; so that they do not even
appear differentiated from each other. In the course of the descent of
the consciousness from this plane to the plane of ordinary life (which
may be taken to correspond to the creation of the actual world) the
transcendent space-consciousness goes through a sort of obscuration
or condensation, and the senses become differentiated into separate
and distinct faculties. This--or something like it--is a distinct
experience. It may well be that the formal doctrine about the five
elements is merely an attempt--necessarily very defective, since these
things _cannot_ be adequately expressed in that way--to put the thing
into a form of thought. And so with other doctrines--some may contain a
real _inhalt_, others may be merely ornamental thought-fringes, put on
for the sake of logical symmetry or what not. In its _external_ sense
the doctrine of the evolution of the other elements successively by
condensation from the ether is after all not so far removed from our
modern scientific ideas. For the chief difference between the air, and
other such gases, and the ether is supposed by us to be the closeness
of the particles in the former; then in the case of fire, the particles
come into violent contact, producing light and heat; in fluids their
contact has become continuous though mobile; and in the earth and other
solids their contact is fixed.
However, whatever justification the formal analysis of man and the
external world into their constituent parts may have or require,
the ultimate object of the analysis in the Indian philosophy is to
convince the pupil that He is a being apart from them all. “He whose
perception is obscured mistakes the twenty-six _tatwas_ (categories
or ‘thats’) for himself, and is under the illusions of ‘I’ and
‘mine.’ To be liberated by the grace of a proper spiritual teacher
from the operation of this obscuring power and to realise that these
are not self, constitute ‘deliverance.’” Here is the ultimate fact
of consciousness--which is the same, and equally true, whatever the
analysis of the _tatwas_ may be.
“The true quality of the Soul is that of space, by which it is at rest,
everywhere. Then,” continued the Guru, “comes the Air quality--by
which it moves with speed from place to place; then the Fire-quality,
by which it discriminates; then the Water-quality, which gives
it emotional flow; and then the Earth or self-quality, rigid and
unyielding. _As these things evolve out of the soul, so they must
involve again, into it and into Brahm._”
To go with the five elements, etc., the system expounded by the Guru
supposes five shells enclosing the soul. These, with the soul itself,
and Brahm, the undifferentiated spirit lying within the soul, form
seven planes or sections--as in the Esoteric Buddhism of Sinnett and
the Theosophists. The divisions however are not quite identical in the
two systems, which appear to be respectively North Indian and South
Indian. In the North Indian we have (1) the material body, (2) the
vitality, (3) the astral form, (4) the animal soul, (5) the human soul,
(6) the soul proper, and (7) the undifferentiated spirit; in the South
Indian we have (1) the material shell, (2) the shell of the vital airs,
(3) the sensorial shell, (4) the cognitional shell, (5) the shell of
oblivion and bliss in sleep, (6) the soul, and (7) the undifferentiated
spirit. The two extremes seem the same in the two systems, but the
intermediate layers differ. In some respects the latter system is the
more effective; it has a stronger practical bearing than the other,
and appears to be specially designed as a guide to action in the
work of emancipation. In some respects the other system has a wider
application. Neither of course have any particular value except as
convenient forms of thought for their special purposes, and as very
roughly embodying in their different degrees various experiences which
the human consciousness passes through in the course of its evolution.
“It is not till all the five shells have been successively peeled off
that consciousness enters the soul and it sees itself and the universal
being as one. The first three are peeled off at each bodily death of
the man, but they grow again out of what remains. It is not enough to
pass beyond these, but beyond the other two also. Then when that is
done the student enters into the fulness of the whole universe; and
with that joy no earthly joy can for a moment be compared.”
“Death,” he continued, “is usually great agony, as if the life was
being squeezed out of every part--like the juice out of a sugar-cane;
only for those who have already separated their souls from their bodies
is it not so. For them it is merely a question of laying down the body
at will, when its _karma_ is worked out, or of retaining it, if need
be, to prolonged years.” (It is commonly said that Vasishta who first
gave the sacred knowledge to mankind, is still living and providing for
the earth; and Tilleináthan Swámy is said to have seen Tiruválluvar,
the pariah priest who wrote the _Kurral_ over 1,000 years ago.) “In
ordinary cases the last thoughts that cling to the body (‘the ruling
passion strong in death’) become the seed of the next ensuing body.”
In this system the outermost layer of that portion of the human being
which survives death is the shell of thought (and desire). As the body
is modified in every-day life by the action of the thought-forms
within and grows out of them--so the new body at some period after
death grows out of the thought-forms that survive. “The body is built
up by your thought--and not by your thought in this life only, but by
the thought of previous lives.”
Of the difficult question about hereditary likeness, suggesting that
the body is also due to the thought of the parents, he gave no very
detailed account,--only that the atomic soul is carried at some period
after death (by universal laws, or by its own affinities) into a womb
suitable for its next incarnation, where finding kindred thought-forms
and elements it assimilates and grows from them, with the result of
what is called family likeness.
Some of his expositions of Astrology were very interesting to
me--particularly to find this world-old system, with all its queer
formalities and deep under lying general truths still passively
(though I think not actively) accepted and handed down by so able
an exponent--but I cannot record them at any length. The five
operations of the divine spirit, namely (1) Grace, (2) Obscuration,
(3) Destruction, (4) Preservation and (5) Creation, correspond to the
five elements, space, air, fire, water and earth, and are embodied in
the nine planets, thus: (1) Ráku and Kétu, (2) Saturn, (3) the Sun and
Mars, (4) Venus, Mercury and the Moon, (5) Jupiter. It is thus that the
birth of a human being is influenced by the position of the planets,
_i.e._ the horoscope. The male semen contains the five elements, and
the composition of it is determined by the attitude of the nine planets
in the sky! There seems here to be a glimmering embodiment of the
deep-lying truth that the whole universe conspires in the sexual act,
and that the orgasm itself is a flash of the universal consciousness;
but the thought-forms of astrology are as indigestible to a mind
trained in Western science, as I suppose the thought-forms of the
latter are to the philosopher of the East!
When I expostulated with the Guru about these, to us, crudities of
Astrology, and about such theories as that of the flat earth, the
cause of eclipses, etc., bringing the most obvious arguments to attack
his position--he did not meet me with any arguments, being evidently
unaccustomed to deal with the matter on that plane at all; but simply
replied that these things had been seen “in pure consciousness,” and
that they _were_ so. It appeared to me pretty clear however that he
was not speaking authentically, as having seen them so himself, but
simply recording again the tradition delivered in its time to him. And
here is a great source of difficulty; for the force of tradition is
so tremendous in these matters, and blends so, through the intimate
relation of teacher and pupil, with the pupil’s own experience, that
I can imagine it difficult in some cases for the pupil to disentangle
what is authentically his own vision from that which he has merely
heard. Besides--as may be easily imagined--the whole system of
teaching tends to paralyse activity on the thought-plane to such a
degree that the spirit of healthy criticism has been lost, and things
are handed down and accepted in an otiose way without ever being
really questioned or properly envisaged. And lastly there is a cause
which I think acts sometimes in the same direction, namely that
the _yogi_ learns--either from habit or from actual experience of a
superior order of consciousness--so to despise matters belonging to
the thought-world, that he really does not care whether a statement is
true or false, in the mundane sense--_i.e._ consistent or inconsistent
with other statements belonging to the same plane. All these causes
make it extremely difficult to arrive at what we should call truth as
regards matters of fact--appearances alleged to have been seen, feats
performed, or the occurrence of past events; and though there may be no
prejudice against the _possibility_ of them, it is wise--in cases where
definite and unmistakable evidence is absent, to withhold the judgment
either way, for or against their occurrence.
With regard to these primitive old doctrines of Astronomy, Astrology,
Philology, Physiology, etc., handed down from far-back times and still
embodied in the teaching of the Gurus, though it is impossible to
accept them on the ordinary thought-plane, I think we may yet fairly
conclude that there is an element of cosmic consciousness in them, or
at any rate in many of them, which has given them their vitality and
seal of authority so to speak. I have already explained what I mean,
in one or two cases. Just as in the old myths and legends (Andromeda,
Cupid and Psyche, Cinderella and a great many more) an effort was made
to embody indirectly, in ordinary thought-forms, things seen with the
inner eye and which could not be expressed directly--so was the same
process carried out in the old science. Though partly occupied with
things of the Thought-plane, it was also partly occupied in giving
expression to things which lie behind that plane--which we in our
Western sciences have neither discerned nor troubled ourselves about.
Hence, though confused and defective and easily impugnable, it contains
an element which is yet of value. Take the theory of the flat earth for
instance, already mentioned, with Mount Meru in the north, behind which
the sun and moon retire each day. At first it seems almost incredible
that a subtle-brained shrewd people should have entertained so crude a
theory at all. But it soon appears that while being a rude explanation
of external facts and one which might commend itself to a superficial
observer, it is also and in reality a description of certain internal
phenomena seen. There are a sun and moon within, and there is a
Mount Meru (so it is said) within, by which they are obscured. The
universe within the soul and the universe without correspond and are
the similitudes of each other, and so (theoretically at any rate) the
language which describes one should describe the other.
It is well known that much of the mediæval alchemy had this double
signification--the terms used indicated two classes of facts. Sometimes
the inner meaning preponderated, sometimes the outer; and it is
not always easy to tell in the writings of the Alchemists which is
specially intended. This alchemical teaching came into Europe from the
East--as we know; yet it was not without a feeling of surprise that
I heard the Guru one day expounding as one of the ancient traditions
of his own country a doctrine that I seemed familiar with as coming
from Paracelsus or some such author--that of the transmutation of
copper into gold by means of solidified mercury. There is a method he
explained, preserved in mystic language in some of the ancient books,
by which mercury can be rendered _solid_. This solid mercury has
extraordinary properties: it is proof against the action of fire; if
you hold a small piece of it in your mouth, arrows and bullets cannot
harm you; and the mere touch of it will turn a lump of copper into gold.
Now this doctrine has been recognised by students of the mediæval
alchemy to have an esoteric meaning. Quicksilver or mercury--as I think
I have already mentioned--is an image or embodiment of Thought itself,
the ever-glancing, ever-shifting; to render quicksilver solid is to fix
thought, and so to enter into the transcendent consciousness. He who
does that can be harmed neither by arrows nor by bullets; a touch of
that diviner principle turns the man whose nature is but base copper
into pure gold. The Guru however expounded this as if in a purely
literal and external sense; and on my questioning him it became evident
that he believed in some at any rate of the alchemical transmutations
in this sense--though what evidence he may have had for such belief did
not appear.
I remember very well the evening on which this conversation took place.
We were walking along an unfrequented bit of road or by-lane; the sky
was transparent with the colors of sunset, the wooded hills a few miles
off looked blue through the limpid air. He strode along--a tall dark
figure with coal-black eyes--on raised wooden sandals or clogs--his
white wrapper loosely encircling him--with so easy and swift a motion
that it was quite a consideration to keep up with him--discoursing all
the while on the wonderful alchemical and medical secrets preserved
from ages back in the _slokas_ of the sacred books--how in order to
safeguard this arcane knowledge, and to render it inaccessible to
the vulgar, methods had been adopted of the transposition of words,
letters, etc., which made the text mere gibberish except to those who
had the key; how there still existed a great mass of such writings,
inscribed on palm and other leaves, and stored away in the temples and
monasteries--though much had been destroyed--and so forth; altogether a
strange figure--something uncanny and superhuman about it. I found it
difficult to believe that I was in the end of the nineteenth century,
and not three or four thousand years back among the sages of the Vedic
race; and indeed the more I saw of this Guru the more I felt persuaded
(and still feel) that in general appearance, dress, mental attitude,
and so forth, he probably resembled to an extraordinary degree those
ancient teachers whose tradition he still handed down. The more one
sees of India the more one learns to appreciate the enormous tenacity
of custom and tradition there, and that the best means to realise its
past may be to study its present life in the proper quarters.
His criticisms of the English, of English rule in India, and of social
institutions generally, were very interesting--to me at any rate--as
coming from a man so perfectly free from Western “taint” and modern
modes of thought, and who yet had had considerable experience of state
policy and administration in his time, and who generally had circled a
considerable experience of life. He said--what was quite a new idea to
me, but in the most emphatic way--that the rule of the English in the
time of the East India Company had been much better than it had become
since under the Crown. Curiously enough his charge was that “the Queen”
had made it so entirely commercial. The sole idea now, he said, is
money. Before ’57 there had been some kind of State policy, some idea
of a large and generous rule, and of the good of the people, but in the
present day the rule was essentially feeble, with no defined policy
of any kind except that of the money bag. This criticism impressed
me much, as corroborating from an entirely independent source the
growth of mere commercialism in Britain during late years, and of the
nation-of-shopkeepers theory of government.
Going on to speak of government generally, his views would I fear
hardly be accepted by the schools--they were more Carlylean in
character. “States,” he said, “must be ruled by Justice, and then they
will succeed.” (An ancient doctrine, this, but curiously neglected
all down history.) “A king should stand and did stand in old times as
the representative of Siva (God). He is nothing in himself--no more
than the people--his revenue is derived from them--he is elected by
them--and he is in trust to administer justice--especially criminal
justice. In the courtyard of the palace at Tanjore there hung at one
time a bell which the rajah placed there in order that any one feeling
himself aggrieved might come and ring it, and so claim redress or
judgment. Justice or Equality,” he continued, “is the special attribute
of God; and he who represents God, _i.e._ the king, must consider this
before all things. The same with rich people--they are bound to serve
and work for the poor from whom their riches come.”
This last sentence he repeated so often, at different times and
in different forms, that he might almost have been claimed as a
Socialist--certainly was a Socialist in the heart of the matter; and
at any rate this teaching shows how near the most ancient traditions
come to the newest doctrines in these respects, and how far the unclean
commercialism out of which we are just passing stands from either.
As to the English people he seemed to think them hopelessly plunged
in materialism, but said that if they did turn to “sensible pursuits”
(_i.e._ of divine knowledge) their perseverance and natural sense of
justice and truth would, he thought, stand them in good stead. The
difficulties of the gnosis in England were however very great; “those
who do attain some degree of emancipation there do not know that they
have attained; though having experience they lack knowledge.” “You
in the West,” he continued, “say _O God, O God!_ but you have no
_definite_ knowledge or methods by which you can attain to see God. It
is like a man who knows there is _ghee_ (butter) to be got out of a cow
(_pasu_, metaph. for soul). He walks round and round the cow and cries,
_O Ghee, O Ghee!_ Milk pervades the cow, but he cannot find it. Then
when he has learned to handle the teat, and has obtained the milk, he
still cannot find the ghee. It pervades the milk and has also to be
got by a definite method. So there is a definite method by which the
divine consciousness can be educed from the soul, but it is only in
India that complete instruction exists on this point--by which a man
who is ‘ripe’ may systematically and without fail attain the object
of his search, and by which the mass of the people may ascend as by a
ladder from the very lowest stages to such ‘ripeness.’”
India, he said, was the divine land, and the source from which the
divine knowledge had always radiated over the earth. Sanskrit and
Tamil were divine languages--all other languages being of lower caste
and origin. In India the conditions were in every way favorable to
attainment, but in other lands not so. Some Mahomedans had at different
times adopted the Indian teaching and become Gñánis, but it had always
been in India, and not in their own countries that they had done so.
Indeed the Mahomedan religion, though so different from the Hindu,
had come from India, and was due to a great Rishi who had quarrelled
with the Brahmans and had established forms and beliefs in a spirit of
opposition to them. When I asked him what he thought of Christ, he said
he was probably an adept in gñánam, but his hearers had been the rude
mass of the people and his teaching had been suited to their wants.
Though these views of his on the influence of India and its
wisdom-religion on the world may appear, and probably are in their
way, exaggerated; yet they are partly justified by two facts which
appear to me practically certain: (1) that in every age of the world
and in almost every country there has been a body of doctrine handed
down, which, with whatever variations and obscurations, has clustered
round two or three central ideas, of which perhaps that of emancipation
from self through repeated births is the most important; so that
there has been a kind of tacit understanding and freemasonry on this
subject between the great teachers throughout history--from the Eastern
sages, down through Pythagoras, Plato, Paul, the Gnostic schools,
the great mediæval Alchemists, the German mystics and others, to the
great philosophers and poets of our own time; and that thousands of
individuals on reaching a certain stage of evolution have corroborated
and are constantly corroborating from their own experience the main
points of this doctrine; and (2) that there must have existed in India,
or in some neighboring region from which India drew its tradition,
_before all history_, teachers who saw these occult facts and
understood them probably better than the teachers of historical times,
and who had themselves reached a stage of evolution at least equal to
any that has been attained since.
If this is so then there is reason to believe that there is a distinct
body of experience and knowledge into which the whole human race is
destined to rise, and which there is every reason to believe will bring
wonderful and added faculties with it. From whatever mere formalities
or husks of tradition or abnormal growths have gathered round it in
India, this has to be disentangled; but it is not now any more to be
the heritage of India alone, but for the whole world. If however any
one should seek it for the advantage or glory to himself of added
powers and faculties, his quest will be in vain, for it is an absolute
condition of attainment that all action for self as distinct from
others shall entirely cease.
INDIA
[Illustration: GREAT PAGODA IN TEMPLE AT TANJORE.
(_192 feet high._)]