EVOLUTION OF LIFE AND FORM
_Four Lectures delivered at the Twenty-third Anniversary Meeting
of the Theosophical Society at Adyar, Madras, 1898._
BY
ANNIE BESANT
SECOND EDITION
LONDON: THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING SOCIETY
BENARES: THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING SOCIETY
1900
CONTENTS.
PAGE
ANCIENT AND MODERN SCIENCE 5
FUNCTIONS OF THE GODS 46
EVOLUTION OF LIFE 90
EVOLUTION OF FORM 124
[FIRST LECTURE.]
ANCIENT AND MODERN SCIENCE.
My Brothers:--The subject on which I am to address you this morning, and
the three mornings that follow, is one of considerable complexity and
difficulty. I do not apologise to you for the difficulty of my theme.
When we meet here in our Anniversary Meeting, we meet as students and
not simply as superficial men and women of the world. We try to prepare
ourselves, by study, for the exchange of thought which in these
gatherings takes place, and although the subject is a difficult one,
although it is not possible to make it clear and intelligible without
the use of certain technical terms, yet, to the student technical
terms--being precise--are really the easiest to understand, and inasmuch
as, in a great majority at least, we are students, I who speak, and you
who listen, we may be content to treat the subject in a somewhat formal
and technical way. Roughly, my outline is this. I want to lay before you
an intelligible conception of evolution, taking it on its two sides,
that of the evolving life and that of the developing forms. I begin by
laying before you a sketch of the methods of "Ancient and Modern
Science," the direction in which each has worked, and is working, the
ultimate union that, we hope, may take place between them. For what
could more fully presage the good of the whole world, what could promise
more happily for the relationship between the different races of
humanity, than to draw together on the plane of mind the science of
antiquity and of modern days, the science of the East and of the West,
and, by wedding them to each other, draw together the nations that are
now divided, and make objective that brotherhood of humanity of which we
dream.
Dealing first with ancient and modern science in this broad and general
way, and taking that as my subject for this morning, I shall pass on
to-morrow to speak on the "Functions of the Gods," meaning by that
phrase the activities of that invisible side of nature on which the
whole of the visible depends. Whether we use here the name "Devas" to
represent those developed spiritual intelligences, or whether with the
child of Islâm, with the Hebrew or the Christian, we speak of the
"Angels" and "Archangels," the name matters nothing; the conception is
common to every faith of man. We shall study their functions in the
universe, and try to understand how they act as the ministers of the
Divine Will. Then we shall pass on to treat of that "Evolution of Life"
which lies underneath the evolution of forms. Finally, we shall treat
the "Evolution of Forms," and see how, in that evolution, is the promise
of final perfection, how all is working to a perfect ending, how the
best that we can dream of is less than the performance of God.
That is the outline of our work. Let us at once begin the first section
of the subject--Ancient and Modern Science.
Now, in the olden times, in those times to which in this land our thought
turns back most fondly with reverence and with pride, in those times,
here, as in every other ancient land, Religion and Science were wedded
together, and there was no discord between the intelligence and the
spirit. It matters not whither you wander amid the ancient nations of the
world: you may travel through the whole of Chaldea; you may study the
remains of ancient Egypt; you may go through Persia and search amid her
monuments; you may cross the Atlantic to America, and unbury the cities
that were lost ere yet the Aztecs had made the mighty State which fell
under the blows of the Spaniards; you may go into China and, in the vast
recesses of that well-nigh unknown land, you may search for what has been
left there from ancient days; or without going outside the limits of your
own land, you may take the literature that is our pride, the mighty books
written by the Ṛishis of the past; and everywhere antiquity speaks with a
single tongue. Religion reveals the spirit, the spiritual truth which is
one. Intelligence studies that truth in its manifold manifestations, and
its work; science, studying the phenomena which are images of aspects of
the Divine, is the handmaid, is the sister, of religion, and between them
discord is unnatural and fatal to progress. That is the ancient view; but
when we come to our own century a new phenomenon presents itself to our
gaze--religion on the one side suspicious of science in its progress,
science on the other hand apt to be proudly contemptuous of religious
claims. How has the divorce arisen? Why this discord between two of the
great helpers of human evolution? The reason is not far to seek. In the
western world the science of the elder time, the science of antiquity,
disappeared in the great flood of barbaric invasions, underneath the
whirlpool caused by the ruins of the Roman Empire, and later on,
underneath the wreckage of that same Empire with its new centre in
Constantinople. The invasions of barbarians, both from the East and the
North, sweeping over the European continent, brought ignorance in the
wake of barbaric conquest. The result was that night came down upon
knowledge and thick darkness enveloped the lands which were to be the
nursery of a new civilisation. When the Sun of science again began to rise
upon the Western world, it presented itself in a form which was alien,
nay, which was more than alien, which was hostile to the dominant religion
of the time. It came from the children of Islâm. It came from those who
recognised Muhammed as their Prophet. From the Muslim schools of Arabia
came the first teachers of modern science to Europe. True, they were
really by their intellectual ancestry descended from the thought of
Greece. They drew their inspiration from the school of Plato through the
Neo-Platonists; they reproduced the ideas of Porphyry and Ptolemy, and of
other Grecian and Egyptian thinkers, Neo-Platonic and even Gnostic. But
they threw over it the garb of Islâm, they presented it in the form of
Arabic thought. The result of this was that, as it made its way into Spain
in the wake of the conquering Moors, as it came with those who drove out
of the Southern Peninsula the rule of the Spanish Christian monarchy, so
the first aspect of science to Christians was an aspect of hostility. It
came as an invading enemy and not as an illuminant to all. Hence conflict
arose; some who were within the limits of the mighty Church of Rome,
touched by a longing for the new learning, stretched out their hands to
take the gifts that science was bringing. These men were regarded with
suspicion, nay, with more than suspicion, with hatred that broke out in
bitter persecution. Who can read the history of Roger Bacon, the wondrous
monk; who can picture Copernicus on his death-bed as his immortal work is
brought to him ere yet his eyes are closed, he having shrunk from earlier
publication, lest the stake should be his portion; who can stand in the
Field of Flowers in Rome, and see there the statue erected where he was
burned to death, who dying in one century, lives for all centuries to
come--Giordano Bruno; who can listen to Galileo, as with faltering lips he
denies the truth he knows and utters the falsehood that he knows not; who
can follow these martyr-steps, led on by bitter memories of blood and
fire, without understanding the reason for the hostility of science to
religion, without confessing with shame and sorrow that that hostility was
caused and was justified by the cruelties wreaked by religion on science,
when science was young and feeble? Every one of us who stands upon the
side of religion should recognise that we are reaping the bitter harvest
of our own past errors, and that the law is just which brings upon us the
difficulties and opposition we encounter in our modern days. For as
science grew strong, she grew strong with the sword in her hands. She
fought for every inch of the ground on which she stood, and only so far as
she could guard herself was she safe from the flame or from the prison.
Hence she searched for everything in nature that could serve as a weapon
against the foe that attacked her. Hence she welcomed eagerly everything
which seemed to show that materialism was the true philosophy of life. If
we go back twenty-five years, to the time when I and some of you were
young, we shall find that over western science there hung the shadow of
materialism, and that stronger and stronger grew the scientific tendency
to "see in matter the promise and the potency of every form of life." You
remember those famous words of Professor Tyndall, no materialist in his
thought and a religious man in his aspirations, but wellnigh driven by
despair to claim fair field for science, and to fling back the claims of
religion, because among them was included the right to gag, the refusal to
allow thought to be honestly uttered by the thinker. But things are
changing more and more; as religion has been growing more liberal and more
rational, science is becoming less materialistic and less aggressive; and
we shall see presently that the most modern of modern science--not quite
the science that you get in your textbooks, for that is practically
out-of-date in the rush of thought which comes from the West, but the
science of the leaders of thought, the science of the first men in the
scientific camp--is more and more approaching the domain where scientists
will recognise religion as helper and not as enemy. In fact, speaking from
the same chair from which Tyndall had uttered his famous phrase that "in
matter he saw the promise and potency of every form of life," his
successor, Sir William Crookes, a member of our own Theosophical Society,
declared, reversing those words of his predecessor, that "In life I see
the promise and potency of all forms of matter."
Such is the great change. Let us now examine in detail. The fundamental
difference between ancient and modern science is that ancient science
studies the world from the standpoint of life which is evolving, while
modern science studies the world by observing the forms through which
that life is manifesting. The first studies life, and sees in forms the
expressions of life. The second studies forms, and tries, by the process
of induction, to find out if there be an underlying principle by which
the multiplicity of forms may be explained. The first works from above
downwards, the second from below upwards, and in that very fact is the
promise of a meeting place where the two will join hand in hand. But
this fundamental difference carries with it very important results. If
we are to study the world from the standpoint of forms, our study will
be almost endless in its multiplicity. Think of a tree; the one trunk
through which the life is pouring, innumerable leaves in which that life
is ultimately expressed; it is an image of the tree of life, that great
Ashvattha, the tree of which we have heard, whose roots are in the
heavens and whose branches spread out over the earth. If we are to study
it where its trunk is, the trunk of life, we have the unity of purpose
and can trace why we have multiplicity of forms; but if we are to start
at the parts where the leaves are growing, leaf by leaf we must examine,
every difference of outline we must record, each little variety in shape
we must carefully note and study. Science studies the leaves in modern
days--the old science studied the life. There is the fundamental
difference. There is also the reason of the difference of methods by
which the study must be carried on. What is the method of modern
science? The use of clear observation, keen judgment, power of placing
like things together, and seeing the differences that divide the
classes of the like from the classes of the unlike. But in order that
this may be done, inasmuch as nature is infinite both in the vast and in
the minute, man demands, to supplement his limited senses, instruments
and apparatus of the most exquisite and delicate character; so that it
has been even said that the progress of science is the progress of the
exquisite nature of the apparatus which science uses, and scientific men
will devise a more delicate balance, a more dainty way of adjustment,
instrument after instrument, until perfection seems well-nigh to be
reached; the modern man of science, to carry on his researches, demands
a vast array of apparatus that he must use for his work, for according
to the delicacy of his apparatus is the extent of his observation of the
forms to which his attention is directed. But the man of science of the
ancient type does not ask for instruments; he is not studying the
evolution of forms; he has to study life, not form; and for such study
he must evolve himself, the life that is within him, for only life can
measure life, only life can respond to the vibrations of the living; his
work is to unfold himself, to bring out of the depths of his own nature
the divine powers that lie hidden therein, not in the senses but in the
Self. His investigations can only be carried on by means of these
powers, and only as he develops the divine within him will he be able to
understand and measure the divine without him. Now this is only possible
because, in essence, the natures of God and man are identical. This
sounds a bold statement, but it is the fundamental truth of all
religions. Need I quote to you the famous saying, "Thou art That"? Shall
I take an equivalent phrase from the Hebrew Scripture, accepted by the
whole Christian world: "God created man in His own image, in the image
of God created He him"? The teaching is identical as all great truths
are identical in the various religions; but what does it mean? God is
manifest in His universe. Would you understand His work, you must
develop the God within yourself, else will He for ever be veiled from
your eyes. Not by the eyes of sense may you behold Him, not by the
vision of intellect may you see that Form, invisible even to the
intelligence. Only as the Self that is God is unfolded within you, will
the Self that is the God without you manifest to you the full glory of
His life. That is the ancient starting point. Thus what the man of old
had to do, if indeed he were to be a man of science, was to become
divine; he was to be a saint before he could be a sage. No man could be
wise until he was pure, for how should impure eyes behold the Pure?
There is the hall-mark of the man of science of the ancient days: he is
developed within before he can be learned without. But from the modern
man of science is not demanded this condition. He must indeed lead a
life that is self-restrained, orderly, and fairly clean; were he to
yield to the riot of the senses, his intelligence would become clouded.
He must have keen power of observation, balanced strength of judgment,
strong patience, unwearied industry, clear insight for differences and
similarities. All these are demanded from him, if he is to be great, and
these are among the noblest powers of intelligence. But all he asks of
religion is to leave him alone. Of old, religion opened the gateway to
science; now-a-days science asks nothing from religion save to stand
aside. That is the difficulty in our way. We have to show that life
cannot be understood until the student lives that which he seeks. That
even the understanding of forms is very imperfect until the life
expressed through them is recognised and partially understood. That
fundamental difference of method then, will cover the whole field, and
will enable us to comprehend the difference of the results.
Now let us try to understand more clearly why it was that the ancient man
of science was taught that the first step to true knowledge, or wisdom,
was the unfolding of the Self. What is life or consciousness--for the two
terms are synonymous? It is the power to answer to vibrations, the power
to respond--that is consciousness. Evolution is the unfolding of a
continually increasing power to respond. The whole universe is full of
the vibrations of Íshvara, of God. He sustains and moves the whole.
Consciousness is the power in us to answer to those vibrations. All powers
lie hidden within us as the oak tree lies hidden in the acorn. But it is
in the process of evolution that the sapling slowly grows out of the seed.
In Eternity, in the Now, all is existent, perfect; in Time only is there
succession, the unfolding of one thing after another. In the changeless
Point everything is present: Space is but the field for diverse sequences.
Hence Time and Space are the basic illusions, and are yet the fundamental
conditions of thinking. Keep, I pray you, that definition of consciousness
in mind, for it will govern the remainder of our study.
The Self in man, being in the image of God, is triple as the Self, the
Divine, is triple. I need not stop to argue this. You know it from that
great literature which lies at the foundation of all Hindu Philosophy.
Whether you speak in abstract terms and say with the Upanishad that
Brahman is threefold, whether you speak of Him as Sat-chit-ânanda, or
whether, instead of using philosophical, abstract terms, you say He is
manifest as Íshvara in the Trimûrti as Mahâdeva, Vishnu and Brahmâ, it
matters not. You may take the concrete form or the abstract, the
fundamental idea is the same: that the Divine Self in manifestation is
triple, and therefore in every great religion God is spoken of as a
Trinity. If this were not so, the relationship between God and man would
remain for ever unintelligible, for man shows a triplicity as he
evolves. The human reflection of that triple Divine Self is the triple
Self in man.
One by one are the Divine aspects unfolded as manifestation proceeds.
The lowest, if I may dare to use such a term, is the aspect which is
first brought into activity for the building of the universe. So also in
man the intelligence awakens and becomes active, the lowest aspect of
the human Self. That is the reflection of Brahmâ, of the Universal Mind,
the creative energy from which all comes forth; and you may find in
yourselves, as you evolve, that creative faculty of imagination which,
working at present in subtle matter, will, when man is perfect, work in
grosser matter as well; for the imaginative power in man is the
reflection of the power that in God created the universe. Brahmâ
meditated, and all forms came forth; and in the creative power of mind
lies every possibility of form. So in man is later evolved the next
aspect, that of A'nanda, where unity is recognised instead of diversity.
Chit, in man, is the intelligence that _knows_, that separates and
divides and analyses, and it has to do with the multiplicity of forms
and with their inter-relations; A'nanda is the wisdom that realises the
unity of all things, and that accomplishes union, thus finding the joy
that lies at the very heart of life; last of all in human evolution, is
developed the third and highest aspect of Deity, Self-Existence, the
Unity that lies beyond union, and this can be developed in man only
because man is one with the Eternal in his nature. By this evolution, in
ages to come, through the countless kalpas that lie in front, Íshvara
after Íshvara arises, each as the fruitage of a universe, to carry on
still more mightily the will of the "One without a second," and to
manifest something of that perfection to the whole of the then
manifested nature. Such, very roughly, is the course of human evolution
into divinity, and this is carried on by races succeeding one another;
as we come to the higher Root-races of man, to those that we speak of as
the Fifth, in which we are, the Sixth, that shall succeed us, and the
Seventh that finishes this cycle of human evolution, we learn that the
characteristic of each of these three Root-races is that each gradually
develops that aspect of God which belongs to it in the due sequence of
evolution. The Fifth is developing the aspect of Chit, Intelligence, the
mind is being evolved, and all the progress of modern science, so marked
in our own days, is but part of the fruitage of that evolution, of that
growth of intelligence which looks on the outer world as not itself--as
the Not-Self--and seeks to study and understand it. The characteristic
attributes belonging to the evolution of the two following races are
even now to be reached by special methods, by individuals who are
willing to take the pains to make the required sacrifices. That which we
know as Yoga is the method by which evolution is quickened in the
individual, and all the powers of the Self, up to the threshold of
divinity, may by it be brought into manifestation in the man of the
present. That is why Yoga training was necessary for the ancient
scientist; he must develop in himself the three aspects of God, if he
were to understand them as manifested in the universe around him.
Now, at our own stage of evolution, it is specially the life of
Brahmâ--or the Brahmâ aspect of God--with which the human mind is coming
into touch, because the mind in man is the reflection of the universal
mind in Kosmos. That life is the life that is the force in the atom,
that vivifies every atom, nay, that brings the atom into existence, as
we shall see, and remains during the whole of the growth of the universe
as the fundamental life that keeps those atoms as active particles
building up innumerable forms. Only as the life of Brahmâ, the aspect of
Brahmâ, is developed in the human Self will man be able to study the
workings of that life in the atomic forms that are filled by it; and it
is very significant that some of the greatest problems of modern science
are now turning on the nature of the atom, and that scientists are
asking, what is it? Is it matter or force? Is it a particle or a vortex?
Never will that question be answered with certainty until man has
developed in himself the power to respond to the life that thrills in
the atom, until, developing intelligence within himself to the fullest
point, he is able to answer by that intelligence to the vibrations of
the atomic life outside him. We have defined consciousness as the power
to answer to vibrations, and if man is to measure life, if he is to know
the underlying causes of phenomena, he must develop in himself the power
to respond to that life outside him; and in the perfection of human
intelligence--the reflection of the Brahmâ aspect of God--lies the only
possibility of solution for this much debated problem in science. I said
it was significant, for this problem belongs to the Fifth race, and the
Western world is at present peopled largely by the fifth sub-race of the
great Fifth. Thus it takes to the very highest point the concrete mind
of man, that marvellous activity of the intellect, that swift and yet
patient study, bringing about the achievements that modern science is
performing. All these are a testimony of the truth of the ancient
teaching that sub-race after sub-race arises, each one with its own work
to do, and we should look on the work of each sub-division of humanity
as good in itself: each should not be regarded as an isolated and
hostile expression, but as part of the Divine manifestation, expressing
that portion which it is destined to express.
Looking thus, then, on the problem of the life that exists in the atom,
we find that in order to understand it, we must develop the pure
intellect in man; but to understand the life that clothes itself in
organic forms, to unravel the secrets which will explain to us why one
is formed thus and another thus, the next great aspect of the Self must
be developed within us--that of the all-pervading life of Vishnu, that
sustains the world as the mighty supporter of everything, the basis, the
foundation of the whole. There alone is unifying energy and there the
root from which all divisions have arisen; only as we realise this
aspect of unifying energy in the Self will the secrets of organised
forms in nature unravel themselves before our eyes. This work is that of
the Sixth Root-race, and those who would ante-date their evolution must
develop Sixth-race powers in themselves by Yoga. Remains one mightier
problem, subtlest and most difficult of all, that of the life of the
human spirit, of man evolving into God. The mysteries of that life may
only be understood when the human Self, which comes forth from the
Father of all--from the mighty One who is sometimes the Destroyer,
sometimes the Creator, but always the Regenerator, the name that
includes them both, Mahâdeva, the mighty God who is Sat, Existence--has
developed the aspect of Sat, of pure Existence, thus becoming the triple
Unity, a Logos, an Íshvara. That is the work of the Seventh Root-race,
and when that is accomplished, then only will the final problems of the
human spirit lie open before our gaze.
The scientific man of antiquity, then, began by that self-attention,
unfolding in himself one by one all those potentialities under a
suitable Guru, passing from step to step till he reached the highest,
and ever worshipping the Mahâguru, the Guru of the universe. Having
unfolded his highest powers, he began to study life, life in its
outpouring, not life in its manifold and veiled manifestations in the
lower worlds. Hence the lofty point at which he started, no less than
the arising of Íshvara enveloped in Mâyâ.
What is Íshvara? What is Mâyâ? There is the first great problem. Let us
reverently address ourselves to it. The philosophers of India have
answered these questions in different ways, each one containing part
of the eternal truth. Íshvara is that mighty centre of consciousness
that exists unchanged in the bosom of the One Existence. There are
innumerable such Centres of Consciousness, of which you may remember
your own Svâmi Subba Rao wrote as existing in the bosom of the One
Existence. Íshvara in manifestation is like a lamp, a light enclosed in
a shade. Íshvara, enveloped in Mâyâ, brings forth a universe and is
enclosed, as it were, in the universe of which He is the Light. Breaking
the shade, the light shines forth in every direction. Dissolving the
universe, He still remains. The centre remains, but the circumference
that circumscribed it is gone. So is that mighty centre when the
universe vanishes; He alone remains, holding His centre unshaken in the
very act of merging in, expanding into, the Infinite, the Absolute, the
Super-Consciousness, the One. Let us think of Him as an eternal centre
of self-consciousness, able to merge in super-consciousness and to
again limit Himself to self-consciousness.
What, then, is Mâyâ? Mâyâ is prepared in every case by the merging in
Íshvara of the whole of the universe which is come to its ending. As one
loka rolls up and merges in the one above it, all forms in the loka thus
merged disappear, but the consciousness that ensouled those forms does not
vanish; a modification of consciousness remains, a modification expressing
itself by a vibratory power--not a vibration, but a power to vibrate in a
particular way; and though the form vanishes as the loka is merged in the
one above it--because the matter disappears, being disintegrated into
finer matter--in consciousness there remains the power to vibrate in the
way in which it had vibrated in the grosser matter, and power persists
although the forms caused by such vibrations disappear, for lack of
material sufficiently coarse to respond to such vibrations. As one region
passes into the next, this process is repeated over and over and over
again, and loka after loka vanishes. The forms are gone, the vibrations
are gone, only the modifications in consciousness capable of giving rise
to similar vibrations remain until finally, when Íshvara--whose
consciousness was the one consciousness in the universe, whose life was
the one life, who supported every form, who made the possibility of every
separated existence--gathers up His universe into Himself ere He merges
Himself in the ONE, everything has vanished that we know as form, nothing
remains save the centre of consciousness. There remains in Íshvara the
power of vibrating in particular fashions, resulting from the evolution of
His universe, in endless multiplicity of vibrations; when He merges
Himself in the One Existence all has vanished as form, but powers remain
in these subtle modifications, preserved in that unchangeable centre in
the mightiness of the One Life. Is that only a dream?
There was a great teacher, Vâsiṣhtha. He taught Râmâ, as you will
remember, and in the record of his teaching there are hints on some of
the mysteries of life. If you keep what I have now said in mind, if I
have succeeded by the clumsy words which are all that the human tongue
can utter on these great problems, in clarifying at all your thoughts,
then just listen to that same thought as expressed by Sûryadeva, when he
was speaking of the same thing--the ending and the new beginning of a
universe. We have only to add to what I have already said, that when
Íshvara arises in order that a new universe may be formed, He throws His
life into these modifications that had apparently disappeared, and the
Mâyâ in which He arises, enveloped and circumscribed, is His own
re-vivified memory, which can never be separated from Himself; He draws
in His consciousness, under the impulse of the Great Breath, limiting it
to self-consciousness, and turning His attention to the contents of that
self-consciousness, its powers start into activity, and that is Mâyâ. So
it is written: "Thereafter, Thou, O Lord, intent on [maintaining] the
reign of night, fixed within the Self, having indrawn that order of
things, [or universe.]... To-day, Thou hast awakened, and art most
joyfully desirous of again throwing out [manifesting] the universe in
mighty gradations [hierarchies of beings]." [_Yoga Vâsiṣhtha_, lxxxvii,
7, 8.] These nights and days are the "Nights and Days of Brahmâ," the
inbreathing and outbreathing of the One Existence, and Mâyâ is this
indrawn "order of things" that remains fixed through the Night, and
starts forth as Íshvara awakens at the coming of Day. That is Mâyâ and
if you take up the definitions given in the different schools, you will
find that this includes and illumines every one of them, that it shows
you what is meant by illusion, and explains to you what is implied in
dreaming. The joyful throwing out into manifestation of all the powers
that are remembered by Íshvara the moment His attention is turned to
His own Self, that memory-prompted "desire" which arises in the bosom of
the Eternal, is the root of the coming universe. Now this thought will
prove to you the key of much ancient teaching. You have, in the
Universal Mind full of ideas which are not yet concreted into phenomena,
the world of ideas of Plato, the invisible world of the Hebrew Kabbalah;
in every great teaching you find the same thought expressed. If, instead
of being fettered by words, as for the most part we are, and if, instead
of repeating phrases that carry with them no idea in the mind of the
repeater, we would try to read the thought that underlies the words, we
should find the Hindu philosophy in every modern philosophy that is
worthy of the name, and see the traces of ancient India in Greece and in
Rome, in Germany and in the England of to-day.
What is the next stage? The Life-Breath goes forth. Íshvara, the Centre
of all, enveloped in Mâyâ sends forth His breath; as that vibrating
breath falls on the enveloping Mâyâ, Mâyâ becomes Prakriti, or
Matter--rather, perhaps, Mûlaprakriti, the root of matter. As that
breath, with its triple vibratory force falls on this matter, it throws
it into three modifications, or "attributes"--Tamas, inertia, or better,
stability; Rajas, activity, vigour; Sattva, a difficult word to
translate: I am inclined to translate it as Harmony; for this reason,
that wherever there is pleasure, Sattva is present. Without harmony no
pleasure can anywhere exist. All pleasure is due to harmonious
vibration, and that quality of harmonious inter-related vibrations is
the quality that Sattva gives to matter. These three fundamental
qualities of matter--answering to three fundamental modifications in the
consciousness of Íshvara--inertia, activity, and harmony, these are the
famous three Gunas without which Prakriti cannot manifest. Fundamental,
essential, and unchangeable, they are present in every particle in the
manifested universe, and according to their combinations is the nature
of each particle.
Then comes the seven-fold division. In a moment I will tell you why we
speak of it as seven-fold instead of five-fold, which is the more familiar
division to you. The seven-fold division, what is this? Here is matter
with its three Gunas, now ready to receive another impulse from the
Life-Breath; that breath comes forth from Brahmâ, for Íshvara has unfolded
His triple nature into its three aspects, and it comes forth in seven
great waves. Each one modifies matter, and evolves and ensouls those that
follow it. The first two are absolutely beyond our knowing, and belong
not to our present stages of evolution at all; therefore they are
ordinarily left out, and only the five that make up the evolution of our
universe are spoken of in the sacred books. Here and there the seven are
mentioned, but only rarely. You may remember the seven tongues of fire,
for instance, and one or two other similar phrases. But generally
five-fold is Prâna, the five-fold evolving life. First, in every case, is
a modification of consciousness sent forth as a power by Íshvara. Turn to
the _Vishnu Purâna_ and you will see exactly the stage that I am pointing
out to you in more modern phrases. Íshvara Himself, as Brahmâ, sends forth
a power, due to a modification of His consciousness, called in the _Vishnu
Purâna_ a Tanmâtra. In the English translation the word rudiment is used.
You remember the rudiments of sound, of touch, of colour, and so on. All
these rudiments are the tanmâtras. These tanmâtras are the powers due to
modifications in consciousness or life, without which no modification in
matter can be. The consciousness first, then the form. The first great
vibration that goes forth is the vibration that gives rise to what we
speak of here as sound--all our terms being drawn from the lowest, or
physical, manifestations; the form that it brings into manifestation is
A'kâsha, the mighty element of Ether; not the ether of modern science, of
course, although that is its physical representative. Then into that the
next tanmâtra, the next power due to a modification of consciousness, is
sent forth; the A'kâsha, with the primary vibration within it, receives
the second vibration sent out by Íshvara, and this, pervading the matter
around it, brings about the next modification of matter, the element Vâyu,
or Air. Vâyu, permeated, ensouled and enveloped in A'kâsha, receives a
fresh impulse from Íshvara, the third tanmâtra, or power resulting from a
modification of consciousness; this tanmâtra, working on Vâyu, produces
the modification of matter called the element Agni, or Fire, and this
fire-matter is permeated, ensouled, and enveloped in Vâyu, as Vâyu in
A'kâsha. A similar process brings into manifestation the elements Apas and
Prithivî. The "magnetic field" of an atom is composed of all the tanmâtras
and elements above it. Try to realise this process if you can, though I
know the conception is difficult. What has occurred? A modification of
life or consciousness in Íshvara, manifested as a power, a vibration;
everything depends on vibration; ancient and modern science speak alike on
this. The universe is made up of vibrations, the vibrations which are the
modifications of the Divine out-pouring of life. These clothe themselves
in fundamental forms of matter, out of which all multiplicity is
developed. These modifications in matter, these great, or primary,
elements are also called tattvas. Tanmâtras, then, are the powers sent out
by modifications of consciousness, and these are awkwardly translated by
the word rudiments; we have next the modifications in matter, the great
elements, the primary elements, or tattvas. The first of the tattvas is
called A'kâsha; then Vâyu, then Agni, then Apas, then Prithivî, the five
following one after the other; the keynote of this evolution is that the
modification of the previous higher tattva is reproduced within the lower,
pervades it and expands outside it. If you will take the _Vishnu Purâna_,
the second chapter, and read over again the evolution of the five tattvas,
you will find that the Sanskrit word which is used comes from a root which
means to pervade as well as to enclose, giving the idea of permeation as
well as of expanding around to form an envelope. And you must understand
that the central life of each tattva is the preceding tattva with its
tanmâtra; that, with the new tanmâtra, makes up the life; and the outer
form is the new tattva that by that productive action comes into
existence.
Now leaving that, for I cannot go into further details, let me just say
to you one word about the seven and the five, because that has been a
source of great dispute between some of our Hindu Pandits and some of
our Theosophists. In the universe, taken as a whole, seven-fold is the
life of Íshvara. Beyond the tattva that we know as A'kâsha, there is
that tattva which has been called Anupâdaka, and beyond that A'ditattva,
the first. Those are far beyond our knowing; we cannot think so far. For
our life-evolution, the five mark the limit; and only the five,
therefore, as a rule, are given in the books which are to be studied to
show you how to evolve.
Rapidly we must pass onward, then, to these tattvas as, modifying
themselves by aggregations, and by disintegrations and re-combinations
of these, they make innumerable forms. The fundamental conception is
that there are as many basic forms of atoms in the universe as there are
tattvas. The tattva of ancient science is the atom of modern science,
but modern science makes the mistake of supposing that there is only one
fundamental atom. The truth is that modern science is only seeking to
get hold of the Prithivî Tattva, the lowest, or physical, atom, and it
has not yet recognized even the existence of the four (or six) higher
atoms that stretch beyond. These atoms form the regions of the universe.
All that is physical is made up from the Prithivî Tattva. Not only is
this so, but within the limits of this physical region, correspondences
of all the higher six atomic forms are reproduced. The sub-divisions of
the physical region, due to combinations of the Prithivî Tattva, show
forth the characteristics of the great regions which make up the
universe; so that we have here in our solid, liquid, gas, three ethers
and atoms, correspondences of the six higher tattvas, but we have them
all in their Prithivî form; they are the modifications of Prithivî,
reproducing on a lower plane the great primary elements. We might
call them Prithivî A'ditattva, Prithivî Anupâdhakatattva, Prithivî
A'kâshatattva, Prithivî Vâyutattva, Prithivî Agnitattva, Prithivî
Apastattva, Prithivî Prithivîtattva. Above the region of Prithivî comes
the great realm of Apas, with similar sub-divisions, all of the
Apastattva, and so again another seven above that in the higher realm of
Agni, and above that the same in the still higher realm of Vâyu, and
above that again in the A'kâsha, and then the highest two unknown
realms. When you remember that all these regions interpenetrate the one
the other, you will gain some glimpse of a complexity dizzying to think
of, the vast complexity of the universe in which the One Life is
working. Yet that complexity is simplified by thus working downwards,
and there is the line of the study of the ancient science. Working out
from this originally simple life into the endless multiplicity of forms,
we may trace the One among the many, and see the Self in all things, and
all things in Him.
At the ending of a universe, the tattvas merge in each other by
disintegration; Prithivî Tattva, having disintegrated into atoms, these
atoms are themselves broken up, and the tanmâtra that formed them, being
no longer able to express itself for lack of suitable material, ceases
to be a power, and remains only represented by a modification in
consciousness--a permanent possibility. Thus Apas Tattva becomes the
lowest manifestation, and, by a repetition of the above process, ceases
to exist. In like fashion each successively vanishes. Hence, Mahâdeva is
represented as saying in the _Shivâgama_: "The universe proceeded from
the tattvas; it goes on through the tattvas; it vanishes into the
tattvas."
Such is the grandiose conception of the kosmos given by the science of
antiquity; one life, pulsing into innumerable vibrations, and these
throwing matter into forms. On this was based the Pythagorean system of
numbers; on this mathematics and music were founded; on this the "Great
Science," or Magic, of long-perished nations was built up. That science
only survives in its purity in the Great White Brotherhood, but its
traces may yet be seen in the scriptures and the religions of the world.
We take up modern science, and pass into a different atmosphere. Now
phenomena are to be studied, forms are to occupy our attention. But as
we look at modern science we find that it is beginning to transcend the
study of forms; we find the efforts of its greatest men are turned to
seek unity amid diversity. Do not think that, in speaking of modern
science as studying forms, I am indifferent to the mighty achievements
that it has made, or that I would say one word in derogation of the
ability of the leading men of science, and the priceless value of the
work that they are doing for humanity. Their achievements during the
present century are achievements that are worthy of the very deepest
respect, not only for the "sublime patience of the investigator," of
which William Kingdon Clifford so rightly spoke, but also for the
self-abnegation with which many of them have given their lives to follow
truth, to study in the innermost recesses of the phenomena of nature
what secrets she has hidden, what may be underneath the "Veil of Isis."
I do not, then, speak a word against modern science, but I point out
to you this fact, that the greatest work of science has been the
generalisations that have been suggested in the attempt to reach
simplicity, to reduce multiplicity to unity. How far has science gone
from that generally accepted view of the materialistic school of thirty
years ago, that the universe is made up of an indefinite number of
atoms, the atoms being our chemical elements! A phrase from one of the
most famous of the then leading men of science, Dr. Ludwig Büchner, will
mark the greatness of the change: he declared that the carbon atom will
always remain a carbon atom, and has been a carbon atom from all
eternity; that the hydrogen atom from all eternity has been a hydrogen
atom, and to all eternity a hydrogen atom it will remain; for atoms with
their properties are indestructible, and are therefore eternal. What man
of science would dare to allege that to-day, knowing that he would be
laughed to scorn by all his scientific brethren; who would say that
these atoms are eternally of the same nature as they have till now been
made out to be? What is science in fact, doing as to the atom? It is
finding in what is called the atom a composite body, a compound, not an
element. This discovery is chiefly due to the researches of Sir William
Crookes, who is guided in his investigations by a deeper philosophy of
the universe than is common among scientists. It is gradually finding
out that these atoms are things that are built up gradually, and that
the qualities of atoms are not fixed, but are properties that change
with every difference of conditions. Late investigations have shown that
when chemical bodies are submitted to extraordinary conditions of
cold--such cold as makes the air into a liquid and solidifies hydrogen
and oxygen--they suffer the destruction of their supposedly permanent
properties. It is proved that, as these conditions are changed, and as
lower and lower ranges of temperature are brought to bear upon these
chemical elements, one by one their eternal properties disappear, and
they lie there changed in their activities, and lose the characteristic
traits which enabled them to be discovered as parts of the moving world.
Downward and downward falls the temperature, property after property
disappears, until science asks, bewildered, what will happen when we
reach the absolute zero, what will then become of the properties of
matter, what will remain of the characteristics of the elements? Is
there not but one Matter, and are not all chemical elements but
modifications, aggregations, of this one ultimate matter? Similarly with
Force, modern science has made the magnificent generalisation that all
the forces that we know are modifications of one Force, and are
identical in their essential nature; that heat, and light, and all the
various forces around us, electricity, magnetism and the rest, that all
these are but vibrations of varying lengths and activities in a subtle
medium, and that they may be transmuted the one into the other. They are
not fundamentally different, but are one and the same in their root. But
if this be so, if there be but one Matter, if there be but one Force,
then science is now tending towards unity; and as that unity is traced
or aimed at, science will have to pass out of the grosser realm of dense
matter into the realm of forces working in subtle media; and we find
this wondrous change that, whereas in old days the existence of force
was argued for inductively, by studying the changes in matter, now
science is beginning to posit the existence of force and to question
whether matter is anything more than the action of force. Instead of
regarding an atom as a solid indivisible particle, the tendency is to
regard it as a vortex of energy, a centre of force. One writer even goes
so far as to suggest that an atom is a source "through which an
invisible fluid is pouring into three-dimensional space." Other atoms,
"anti-atoms," may be "sinks" through which the fluid pours out. If these
unite, may not inertia be neutralised as well as gravity? May there not
be potential matter, and may there not be such in space, without any of
the attributes which characterise matter, but ready to be vivified and
form a system of worlds? Here we have H. P. B.'s atoms and laya centres,
put forward tentatively as a scientific problem. Science is mounting
into the invisible world and is trying to measure and to weigh that
which therein it finds. Now this tendency to unity is the testimony to
the One that underlies all manifestation; only one Force, only one
Matter; endless diversity of forces, transmutable into each other;
endless diversity of forms, which break up again to recombine; only one
Force under all forces, one Matter under all forms. It is seen that the
very fact of harmony and of evolution points to a root unity, and that
eternally independent self-moving particles would only perpetuate a
chaos.