THE ORDER AND THE DOCTRINE
The town of Croton was situated at the extremity of the Gulf of
Tarentum, near the Lacinian promontory, in front of the open sea. Like
Sybaris, it was one of the most flourishing cities in Southern Italy.
It was famed for its Doric constitution, its victorious athletes at
the Olympian games, and its doctors, rivals of the Asclepiads. The
Sybarites owe their immortality to their luxury and effeminacy. The
inhabitants of Croton would perhaps be forgotten, spite of their
virtues, had theirs not been the glory of offering a home to the great
school of esoteric philosophy, known under the name of the Pythagorean
sect, which may be looked upon as the mother of the school of Plato and
the ancestor of all idealist schools. However noble the descendants,
their ancestors greatly surpassed them. The school of Plato issues from
an incomplete tradition, whereas the Stoic school has already lost the
true tradition. Other systems of ancient and modern philosophy are more
or less fortunate speculations, whilst the teaching of Pythagoras
was based on experimental science and accompanied by a complete
organization of life.
The secrets of the master’s order and thought are now, like the ruins
of the ancient town, buried deep underground. All the same we will try
to resurrect them, for thus we shall have an opportunity of penetrating
to the very heart of the theosophic doctrine, the arcanum of religions
and philosophies, and raising a corner of the veil of Isis to the light
of Greek genius.
Several reasons influenced Pythagoras in choosing this Dorian colony
as a centre of action. His aim was not merely to teach the esoteric
doctrine to a circle of chosen disciples, but also to apply its
principles to the education of youth and to the life of the state. This
plan comprised the foundation of an institution for laic initiation,
with the object of finally transforming the political organization of
the cities by degrees into the image of that philosophic and religious
ideal. Certainly none of the republics of Hellas or of Peloponnesus
would have tolerated this innovation. The philosopher would have been
accused of conspiring against the State. The Greek towns of the Gulf
of Tarentum, which were less preyed upon by demagogues, were more
liberal-minded. Pythagoras made no mistake in expecting to find a
favourable reception for his reforms at the hands of the Croton senate.
His designs went also beyond Greece. Foreseeing the evolution of ideas,
he was prepared for the fall of Hellenism, and was thinking of sowing
in the human mind the principles of a scientific religion. By founding
his school in the Gulf of Tarentum, he was spreading esoteric ideas
throughout Italy, and keeping in the precious vase of his doctrine the
purified essence of Oriental wisdom for the peoples of the West.
On coming to Croton, which was at the time inclined to adopt the
voluptuous life of its neighbour Sybaris, Pythagoras produced a
veritable revolution. Porphyry and Iamblichus have depicted the
commencement of his life there as being rather that of a magician
than of a philosopher. Assembling the youth in the Temple of Apollo,
he succeeded by his eloquence in tearing them away from a life of
debauchery. Summoning the women to the Temple of Juno, he persuaded
them to bring their golden robes and ornaments as trophies to celebrate
the defeat of vanity and luxury. He threw a veil of grace over the
austerity of his teachings, a communicating flame flashed forth from
his words of wisdom. His beautiful face and noble bearing, the charm
of his countenance and of his voice completely captivated them. The
women compared him to Jupiter, the young men to Hyperborean Apollo. He
captivated and seduced the crowds which, whilst listening to him, were
greatly astonished to find themselves enamoured of truth and virtue.
The senate of Croton, or _the Council of the Thousand_, grew uneasy at
the influence he was obtaining. They summoned Pythagoras to explain
his conduct, and to state the means he was making use of to master
the minds of the citizens. This gave him an opportunity to develop
his ideas on education, and demonstrate that, far from threatening
with ruin the Doric constitution of Croton, they only strengthened
it the more. When he had won over to his side the wealthiest of the
citizens and the majority of the senate, he proposed that they should
found an institute for himself and his disciples. This brotherhood
of laic initiates should live in common in a building constructed
for the purpose, though without separating themselves from civil
life. Those of them who already deserved the name of master, might
teach physical, psychic, and religious sciences. Young men should be
admitted to the lessons of the masters and to the different grades of
initiation according to their intelligence or earnestness in study,
under the control of the head of the order. At the beginning, they
must submit to the rules of the common life and spend the whole day in
the institute, under the supervision of the masters. Those who should
wish to enter the order formally were to give up their fortune to a
trustee, with permission to enter again into possession of it whenever
they pleased. In the institute there would be a section for women,
along with a parallel initiation, though different and more adapted to
the duties of their sex.
This plan was enthusiastically adopted by the senate of Croton, and,
after a few years, near the entrance to the town there rose a building
surrounded by vast porticoes and beautiful gardens. The inhabitants of
Croton called it the Temple of the Muses, and, to tell the truth, in
the centre of the buildings, near the humble dwelling of the master,
stood a temple dedicated to these divinities.
Thus sprang into being the Pythagorean institute, which became at
one and the same time a college of education, a science academy, and
a small model city under the control of a great initiate. It is by
theory and practice, by science and art combined that slow progress
was made to that science of sciences, that magical harmony of soul
and intellect with the universe which Pythagoreans looked upon as the
arcanum of philosophy and religion. The Pythagorean school is of
supreme interest for us, inasmuch as it was a most remarkable attempt
at laic initiation. Being an anticipated synthesis of Hellenism and
Christianity, it grafted the fruit of science on the tree of life,
it acquired the knowledge of that inner, that living realization, of
truth, which a profound faith alone can give. It was an ephemeral
realization, though one of the greatest importance, instinct with the
fruitfulness of example.
To form some idea of it, let us enter the Pythagorean institute along
with the novice and follow his initiation step by step.
THE TEST
The white dwelling of the brother initiates was situated on a hill,
surrounded by olive and cypress trees. On mounting from below, the
porticoes, gardens, and gymnasium could distinctly be seen. The Temple
of the Muses, with its circular colonnade of airy elegance, towered
above the two wings of the building. The terrace of the outer gardens
overlooked the town with its Prytaneum, its harbour and meeting-place.
Away in the distance stretched the gulf, between sharp rugged parts of
the coast as though in a cup of agate, whilst the Ionian sea shut in
the horizon with its line of azure blue. At times one might see women
clad in divers-coloured costumes issue on the left and make their way
in long files down to the sea, along the alley of cypresses. They were
going to worship at the Temple of Ceres. And on the right also, men
might often be seen mounting in white robes to the Temple of Apollo. It
was not the least attraction to the inquiring imagination of youth to
think that the school of the initiates was placed under the protection
of these two divinities, one of whom, the Mighty Goddess, held the
profound mysteries of Woman and of Earth, whilst the other, the Solar
God, revealed those of Man and of Heaven.
So we find this little city of the elect smiling down upon the populous
town beneath. The noble instincts of youth were attracted by its
peaceful serenity, though nothing was seen of what was taking place
within, and it was generally known that admittance was not easily
obtained. The gardens connected with the institute of Pythagoras were
separated from the outside by nothing but a simple green hedge, and
the entrance gate remained open all day long. A statue of Hermes,
however, might be seen there, and on its pedestal were the words:
_Eskato Bebeloi_; No entrance for the profane! This commandment of the
mysteries was universally respected.
Pythagoras was very stern in admitting novices, saying, “that not every
kind of wood was fit for making a Mercury.” The young men who wished
to enter the association were obliged to undergo a period of test and
trial. On being introduced by their parents or by one of the masters,
they were first of all permitted to enter the Pythagorean gymnasium in
which the novices played the games appropriate to their age. The young
man at once noticed that this gymnasium was unlike that in the town.
There were no violent cries or noisy groups, no ridiculous boasting
or vain display of strength by athletes in embryo, challenging one
another and exhibiting their muscles; but rather groups of courteous
and distinguished-looking young men, walking in couples beneath the
porticoes or playing in the arena. They invited him with graceful
simplicity to join in their conversation as though he were one of them,
without greeting him with a suspicious glance or jeering smile. In the
arena they were racing, throwing quoits and javelins, and engaging in
mock fights under the form of Doric dances. Pythagoras had, however,
strictly abolished wrestling, saying that it was superfluous and even
dangerous to develop pride and hatred by strength and agility; that
men intended to practise the virtues of friendship ought not to begin
by flinging one another on the ground and rolling in the sand like wild
beasts; that a real hero could fight with great courage though without
fury; that hatred makes us inferior to any opponent whoever he be. The
new-comer heard these maxims from the lips of the masters repeated by
the novices, who were quite proud to impart their precocious wisdom. At
the same time they encouraged him to state his own opinions and freely
contradict them. Emboldened by such advances, the ingenuous aspirant
quickly showed forth his real nature. Pleased at being listened to
and admired, he would speak and dilate at his ease. Meanwhile the
masters closely watched him without ever uttering the slightest word of
reprimand. Pythagoras would come up unexpectedly and study his gestures
and words. He paid special attention to the gait and the laugh of young
men. Laughter, he said, is an infallible index to character, no amount
of dissimulation can render agreeable the laugh of an evil-disposed
man. He had also made such a profound study of the human face that he
could read therein the very depths of the soul.[10]
Such minute observation enabled the master to form a precise idea
regarding his future disciples. A few months afterwards came decisive
tests in imitation of Egyptian initiation, though greatly modified and
adapted to the Greek nature, whose sensitiveness had not submitted
to the mortal terrors of the crypts of Memphis and Thebes. The
Pythagorean aspirant was made to spend the night in a cavern, in the
outskirts of the town, alleged to be haunted by various apparitions and
monsters. Those who had not sufficient strength to endure the terrible
impressions of solitude and night, who refused to enter or made their
escape before the morning, were deemed too weak for initiation and
rejected.
The moral test was a more serious one. Suddenly, without the least
preparation, the would-be disciple would one fine morning find himself
imprisoned in an empty, dismal-looking cell. A slate was given him and
he was coldly ordered to discover the meaning of one of the Pythagorean
symbols, as, for instance: What is the signification of the triangle
inscribed in a circle? or: Why is the dodecahedron, confined within the
sphere, the symbol of the universe? He spent a dozen hours in his cell
with his slate and the problem, and no other companion than a vase of
water and a piece of dry bread. Then he was taken into a room to face
the assembled novices. Under these circumstances the order had been
passed round that they should ridicule without pity the wretched youth,
who, hungry and sullen, stood before them like a culprit. “So this is
the new philosopher,” they would say. “How inspired he looks! He will
now tell us of his meditations. Do not conceal from us what you have
discovered. You will in the same way go through all the symbols in
turn. A month of this _régime_ and you will have become a great sage!”
At this point the master would attentively observe the young man’s
attitude and expression. Irritated by his fast, overwhelmed with
these sarcastic words, and humiliated at not being able to solve
an incomprehensible problem, no small effort was needed to control
himself. Some would weep with rage, others gave sarcastic replies,
whilst others again, unable to control themselves, dashed their slate
madly to the ground and burst out in imprecations against school,
master, and disciples alike. Then Pythagoras came forward and calmly
said that, as they had failed in the test of self-respect, they were
begged not to return to a school of which they had so bad an opinion,
in which friendship and respect for the masters should be the most
elementary of virtues. The rejected candidate would shamefacedly
retire and sometimes become a redoubtable enemy of the order, like
the well-known Cylon who, later on, excited the people against the
Pythagoreans and brought about their downfall. On the other hand, those
who bore everything with firmness, and gave just and witty replies
to the provoking words they listened to, declaring they were ready
to repeat the test a hundred times if only they could attain to the
least degree of wisdom, were solemnly welcomed into the novitiate and
received the enthusiastic congratulations of their new companions.
FIRST DEGREE--PREPARATION
_The novitiate and the Pythagorean life_
Then only began the novitiate called the _preparation_ (paraskeia),
which lasted at least two years, and might be prolonged to five. The
novices, or _listeners_ (akousikoi), during the lessons they received,
were subjected to the rule of absolute silence. They had no right
either to offer any objection to their masters or to discuss the
teaching they were absorbing. This latter they were to receive with
respect and to meditate upon at length. To impress this rule in the
mind of the new listener, he was shown the statue of a woman, enveloped
in a long veil, her finger raised to her mouth, _The Muse of Silence_.
Pythagoras did not regard youth as being capable of understanding the
origin and the end of things. He thought that exercising them in logic
and reasoning, before inculcating in them the meaning of truth, made
them ignorant and assuming sophists. His idea was to develop in his
pupils, before everything else, intuition, that primordial and superior
faculty of mankind. To do this, he did not teach anything mysterious or
difficult. Starting from natural sentiments, the first duties of man on
entering life, he showed their relations with the laws of the universe.
Whilst first of all inculcating in youth parental love, he magnified
this sentiment by assimilating the idea of father to that of God, the
mighty creator of the universe. “Nothing is more venerable,” he said,
“than the quality of fatherhood. Homer named Jupiter king of the gods,
but in order to show forth all his greatness, he called him the Father
of gods and men.” He compared the mother to generous and beneficent
Nature; as heavenly Cybele produces the stars and Demeter gives birth
to the fruits and flowers of the earth, so does the mother feed the
child with every joy. Accordingly the son ought to honour in his father
and mother the representatives, the earthly images, of these mighty
divinities. He also showed that the love of fatherland comes from the
affection one feels in childhood for one’s mother. Parents are given
to us, not by chance, as is commonly believed, but in accordance with
a previous, a superior order, called Fortune or Necessity. To honour
them is _an obligation_; but a friend _must be chosen_. The novices
were invited to form themselves into couples, according to their
several affinities. The younger should seek in the elder the virtues
he is himself aiming after, and the two companions should encourage
each other towards a better life. “A friend is another self; he must
be honoured as a god,” said the master. Though the Pythagorean rules
imposed on the “listener” novice absolute submission to his masters,
it gave him full liberty in enjoying the charms of friendship, it even
made of this latter the stimulus of every virtue, the poetry of life,
the path leading to the ideal.
Individual energy was thus roused, morality became poetical and
instinct with life, a rule lovingly accepted ceased to be a constraint,
it became the very affirmation of an individuality. It was the wish of
Pythagoras that obedience should be an assent and an approval. Besides
this, the moral prepared the way for the philosophical teaching. The
relations set up between social duties and the harmonies of the kosmos
gave one a glimpse into the law of universal agreement and analogy. In
this law dwells the principle of the Mysteries, of occult teaching and
of the whole of philosophy. The mind of the pupil thus grew accustomed
to find the impress of an invisible order on visible realities. General
maxims and concise prescriptions opened out perspectives of this
superior world. Morning and evening the _Golden Verses_ rang in the
pupil’s ear:
“First worship the immortal Gods, as they are
established and ordained by the Law.
Reverence the Oath, and next the Heroes, full
of goodness and light.”
In commenting on this maxim, it was shown that the gods, though
apparently different, were really the same among all people, since
they corresponded with the same intellectual and soul forces active
throughout the universe. The sage could consequently honour the gods of
his own country, whilst forming of their very essence a different idea
from that generally held. Tolerance for every cult; unity of people
in one humanity; unity of religions in esoteric science: these new
ideas became vaguely outlined in the mind of the novice like glorious
divinities one might catch a glimpse of in the splendour of the
setting sun. And the golden lyre continued its lofty teachings:
“Honour likewise the terrestrial Dæmons by rendering them
the worship lawfully due to them.”
Besides these lines the novice saw beaming as through a veil the divine
Psyche, the human soul. The heavenly pathway shone like a stream of
light, for in the worship of heroes and demi-gods, the initiate saw the
doctrine of the future life and the mystery of universal evolution.
This secret was not revealed to the novice, but he was made ready for
its understanding by being told of a hierarchy of beings superior to
humanity, its guides and protectors, called heroes and demi-gods. It
was also stated that they served as intermediaries between man and
divinity, that by their help he might step by step succeed in drawing
nearer to them if he practised heroic and divine virtues. “But how
could communication be obtained with these invisible spirits? Whence
comes the soul? Whither does it proceed? Wherefore the sombre mystery
of death?” The novice dared not formulate these questions in words, but
his looks revealed them, and the only reply his masters gave him was to
point to the strugglers on earth, the statues in the temple, and the
glorified souls in heaven, “in the fiery citadel of the god” to which
Hercules had attained.
At the foundation of the ancient mysteries, all the gods were
included in the only supreme God. This revelation, including all its
consequences, became the key of the Kosmos. This was the reason it
was entirely reserved for initiation, properly so called. The novice
knew nothing of this, he was only permitted to catch a faint glimpse
of this truth from what he was told of the powers of Music and Number.
“Numbers,” said the master, “contain the secret of things, and God is
universal harmony.” The seven sacred modes, built up on the seven notes
of the heptachord, correspond to the seven colours of light, to the
seven planets, and to the seven modes of existence reproduced in all
the spheres of material and spiritual life from the smallest to the
greatest. The melodies of these modes when skilfully fused should tune
the soul and make it sufficiently harmonious to vibrate in accord with
the accents of truth.
With this purification of the soul corresponded of necessity that of
the body, which was obtained by means of hygiene and strict moral
discipline. The first duty of initiation was to overcome one’s
passions. He who has not harmonized his own being cannot reflect
divine harmony. And yet the ideal of the Pythagorean life contained
nothing of asceticism in it, for marriage was looked upon as sacred.
Chastity, however, was recommended to the novices, and moderation to
the initiates, as being a source of strength and perfection: “Only
yield to voluptuousness when you consent to be less than yourself,”
said the master. He added that voluptuousness exists only in itself,
comparing it “to the song of the Sirens who disappear when one
approaches them, to find in their place nothing but broken bones and
bleeding flesh on a wave-beaten rock, whilst true joy is like the
concert of the Muses, leaving celestial harmony behind in the soul.”
Pythagoras believed in the virtues of the woman initiate, he greatly
mistrusted the untrained woman. On a disciple asking him when he might
be permitted to approach a woman he replied in ironical accents: “When
you are tired of your peace of mind.”
The Pythagorean day was spent in the following manner. As soon as
the sun’s glorious orb rose above the blue waves of the Ionian sea,
gilding the columns of the Temple of the Muses, above the abode of
the initiates, the young Pythagoreans chanted a hymn to Apollo, the
while performing a sacred, dignified dance. After the obligatory
ablutions, they proceeded in silence to the temple. Each awakening is a
resurrection possessed of its flower of innocence. The soul must retire
within itself at the beginning of the day and remain unsullied for the
morning lesson. In the sacred wood, groups were formed round the master
or his interpreters and the lesson was given beneath the fragrance
of the mighty trees or the shade of the porticoes. At noon, prayer
was offered to the heroes and benevolent spirits. Esoteric tradition
affirmed that good spirits preferred to approach the earth with the
radiance of the sun, whilst evil spirits haunted the shades and filled
the air when night came on. The frugal midday meal generally consisted
of bread, honey, and olives. The afternoon was devoted to gymnastic
exercises, then to study and meditation, afterwards to some mental work
on the morning’s lesson. After the sun had set, prayer was offered in
common, a hymn sung to the gods of the Kosmos, to heavenly Jupiter,
to Minerva, Providence, and to Diana, guardian of the dead. Meanwhile
storax, manna, or incense were burning on the altar in the open air,
and the hymn, mingling with the perfume, rose gently in the twilight,
whilst the early stars pierced the pale azure sky. The day ended with
the evening meal, after which the youngest member read aloud, comments
being made thereon by the eldest.
Thus the day passed like a limpid spring, clear as a cloudless morn.
The year was divided according to the great astronomical events. Thus
the return of hyperborean Apollo and the celebration of the Mysteries
of Ceres saw novices and initiates of every degree, both men and women,
assembled together. Young girls played on ivory lyres, married women,
in purple and saffron-coloured cloaks, performed alternate choruses,
accompanied by songs, along with the harmonious movements of strophe
and antistrophe, imitated later on in tragedy. In the midst of these
great _fêtes_, at which a divine presence was manifested in grace of
form and movement and the penetrating melody of the choruses, the
novice was conscious of a kind of presentiment of occult forces, the
all-powerful laws of the animated universe, the deep, transparent
heavens. Marriages and funeral rites were of a more intimate, but none
the less solemn, character. There was one original ceremony, calculated
to strike the imagination. When a novice, of his own accord, left
the institute to take up once more the ordinary every-day life, or
when a disciple had betrayed a secret of the doctrine, an occurrence
which happened only once, the initiates raised a tomb for him in the
consecrated precincts, as though he were dead. The master said: “He is
more dead than the dead, for he has returned to an evil life; his body
appears among men, but his soul is dead; let us weep for it!” This tomb
erected to a living man, persecuted him like his own phantom, like an
evil omen.
SECOND DEGREE--PURIFICATION[11]
_Numbers--Theogony_
It was a happy day, “a day of gold,” as the ancients said, when
Pythagoras received the novice into his dwelling and solemnly welcomed
him into the rank of his disciples. First of all he entered into direct
and connected relations with the master; he came into the inner court
of his dwelling reserved for his faithful followers. Hence the name
of _esoteric_ (those from within) in opposition to that of _exoteric_
(those from without). The real initiation now began.
This revelation consisted of a complete, rational exposition of occult
doctrine, from its principles as contained in the mysterious science of
numbers to the final consequences of universal evolution, the destiny
and end of divine Psyche, the human soul. This science of numbers
was known under different names in the temples of Egypt and Asia. As
it afforded a key to the whole doctrine, it was carefully concealed
from the people. The figures and letters, the geometric forms and
human representations, which served as signs in this algebra of the
occult world, were understood by none but the initiate. He divulged
their meaning to the adepts only after receiving from them the oath of
silence. Pythagoras formulated this science in a book he wrote with
his own hand, called _hieros logos_ (the sacred word). This book has
not come down to us, but we are acquainted with its principles from
the subsequent writings of the Pythagoreans, Philolaus, Archytas, and
Hierocles, the dialogues of Plato, and the treatises of Porphyry and
Iamblichus. The reason they have remained a dead letter for modern
philosophers is that their meaning and bearing can only be understood
by comparison with all the esoteric doctrines of the East.
Pythagoras called his disciples mathematicians, because his higher
teaching began by the doctrine of numbers. These sacred mathematics,
however, or science of principles, were both more transcendent and more
living than profane mathematics, which alone are known to our savants
and philosophers. In them Number was not regarded as an abstract
quantity but as the intrinsic and active virtue of the supreme One,
of God the source of universal harmony. The science of _numbers_ was
that of the living forces, _of the divine faculties_ in action in the
universe and in man, in the macrocosm and in the microcosm.----In
examining them, distinguishing and explaining their working, Pythagoras
was evolving nothing less than a rational theogony or theology. In a
real theology we should look for the principles of every science; it
will be the science of God only if it shows the unity and concatenation
of the sciences of nature. It deserves its name only on condition it
constitutes the organ and the synthesis of all the rest. Now this is
exactly the part played in the Egyptian temples by the science of the
holy Word, formulated and made exact by Pythagoras under the name of
the science of numbers. It claimed to supply the key of being, of
science, and of life. The adept, under the guidance of his master,
had to begin by contemplating its principles in the light of his own
intelligence, before following its many applications in the concentric
immensity of the spheres of evolution.
A modern poet has had a presentiment of this truth in causing Faust to
descend to _the Mothers_ to restore life to the phantom of Helen. Faust
seizes the magic key, the earth melts away beneath him, he becomes
unconscious and plunges into the void of space. Finally he reaches the
Mothers who keep watch over the first forms of the mighty All, and
cause beings to issue from the mould of the archetypes. These Mothers
are the Numbers of Pythagoras, the divine forces of the world. The poet
has communicated to us the thrill of his own thought before this plunge
into the abyss of the Unfathomable. For the ancient initiate, in whom
the direct view of intelligence was gradually aroused as though it
were a new sense, this inner revelation seemed rather an ascent into
the incandescent sun of Truth, whence he contemplated in the fulness
of light the forms and beings thrown out in the whirl of lives by a
vertiginous irradiation.
He did not reach in a single day that inner possession of truth
in which man realizes universal life by the concentration of his
faculties. Years of training were needed, and that agreement, so
difficult to effect, of the intelligence and the will. Before using the
creative word--and how few succeed in this!--one must spell out the
sacred logos, letter by letter, syllable by syllable.
Pythagoras was in the habit of giving this teaching in the Temple of
the Muses. This temple had been built by the magistrates of Croton
at his express request and according to his plans, in an enclosed
garden near his abode. The disciples of the second degree came there
alone with the master. Inside this circular temple were the marble
statues of the nine Muses. Standing in the centre the solemn and
mysterious Hestia, covered with a veil, kept watch. Her left hand
afforded protection to the fire on the hearth, whilst with her right
she pointed to heaven. Both Greeks and Romans looked upon Hestia, or
Vesta, as the guardian of the divine principle present in all things.
The soul of sacred fire, she has her altar in the temple of Delphi,
at the Prytaneum of Athens, as well as on the humblest hearth. In the
sanctuary of Pythagoras she symbolized divine and central Science, or
Theogony. In a circle around her, the esoteric Muses bore, in addition
to their traditional and mythological names, that of the occult
sciences and sacred arts of which they had the guardianship. _Urania_
presided over astrology and astronomy; _Polyhymnia_ over the science of
souls in the other life and the art of divination; _Melpomene_, with
her tragic mask, over the science of life and death, of transformations
and re-births. These three superior Muses constituted together the
cosmogony, or heavenly physics. _Calliope_, _Clio_, and _Euterpe_
presided over the science of man, or psychology, with its corresponding
arts, medicine, magic, and moral philosophy. The last group,
_Terpsichore_, _Erato_, and _Thalia_, embraced terrestrial physics, the
science of elements, stones, plants, and animals.
Thus at a glance the organism of the sciences, following that of the
universe, appeared to the disciple in the living circle of the Muses,
illumined by the divine flame.
After leading his disciples into this small sanctuary, Pythagoras
opened the book of the Word, and began his esoteric teaching.
“These Muses,” he said, “are only the earthly images of the divine
powers whose immaterial and sublime beauty you will contemplate each
one in himself. Just as they have their eyes fixed upon the fire
of Hestia, from which they spring and which gives them movement,
rhythm, and melody--so you must plunge into the central fire of the
universe, into the divine spirit, to mingle with it in its visible
manifestations.” Then with bold, powerful hand, Pythagoras carried away
his disciples from the world of forms and realities; he effaced time
and space and took them with him down into _the great Monad_, into the
presence of the increate Being.
Pythagoras called it the first One in which existed harmony, the
masculine Fire traversing everything, the Spirit which moves by
itself, the Indivisible and mighty non-Manifested of which the
ephemeral worlds manifest the creative thought, the Only, the Eternal,
the Unchangeable, concealed beneath the many things which pass away
and change. “Essence in itself escapes man,” said Philolaus, the
Pythagorean. “He knows only the things of this world in which the
finite combines with the infinite. And how can he know them? for
between things and himself there is a harmony and relation, a common
principle; and this principle is given them by the One who gives to
them along with their very essence, measure and intelligibility. It is
the common measure between subject and object, the reason of things by
which the soul participates in the final reason of the One.”[12] But
how can one approach It, the inconceivable Being? Has any one ever seen
the Master of time, the Soul of the suns, the Spring of intelligences?
No; and it is only by mingling with it that one penetrates its
essence. It is like an invisible fire placed in the centre of the
universe, its nimble flame circulating throughout the worlds and moving
the circumference. He added that it was the work of initiation to draw
near the great Being, by resembling it, by making oneself as perfect
as possible, dominating things by intelligence, thus becoming active
like it, and not passive like them. “Is not your being, your soul, a
microcosm, a small universe? Still, it is full of storm and discord.
Well, the thing to do is to realize therein unity in harmony. Then
and then only will God descend into your consciousness, and you will
share in his power and make of your will the hearth-stone, the altar of
Hestia, the throne of Jupiter!”
God, the indivisible substance, has accordingly for number the Unity
which contains the Infinite, for name, that of Father, Creator, or
Eternal-Masculine, and for sign, the living Fire, symbol of the Spirit,
essence of the Whole. This is the first of the principles.
But the divine faculties are like the mystic lotus which the Egyptian
initiate, lying in his tomb, sees emerging from the blackness of the
night. At first it is only a shining spot, then it opens like a flower,
and the glowing centre expands like the thousand leaves of a rose of
light.
Pythagoras said that the great Monad acts as a creative _Dyad_.
Immediately God manifests himself, he is double; indivisible essence
and divisible substance; active, animating, masculine principle, and
passive, feminine principle, or animated plastic matter. Accordingly
the Dyad represented the union of the Eternal-Masculine and the
Eternal-Feminine in God, the two essential and corresponding divine
faculties. Orpheus had poetically expressed this idea in the line:
Jupiter is the divine Bridegroom and Spouse.
All polytheisms have intuitively been conscious of this idea,
representing the Divinity under the masculine, sometimes under the
feminine form.
This living, eternal Nature, this mighty Spouse of God, is not only the
terrestrial but also the celestial nature, invisible to our eyes of
flesh, the Soul of the world, the primordial Light, in turn Maia, Isis
or Cybele, who, first vibrating beneath the divine impulse, contains
the essences of all souls, the spiritual types of all beings. Then
it is Demeter, the living earth, and all earths with the bodies they
enfold in which these souls have come to be incarnated. Afterwards it
is Woman, the companion of Man. In humanity Woman represents Nature,
and the perfect image of God is not Man alone, but Man and Woman.
Hence their invincible and fascinating, their fatal attraction, the
intoxication of Love, in which the dream of infinite creations has
play, and the dim presentiment that the Eternal-Masculine and the
Eternal-Feminine enjoy perfect union in the bosom of God. “Honour be to
Woman, on earth as in heaven,” said Pythagoras and all the initiates
of old. “She enables us to understand that mighty Woman, Nature. May
she be the sanctified image of Nature and help us to mount gradually to
that great Soul of the World which gives birth, preserves and renews,
to divine Cybele who bears along the people of souls in her mantle of
light.”
The Monad represents the essence of God, the Dyad, his generative
and reproductive faculty. The latter brings the world into being,
the visible unfolding of God in time and space. Now the real world
is triple. For just as man is composed of three elements, which are
distinct though blended in one another, body, soul, and spirit; so
the universe is divided into three concentric spheres: the natural,
the human, and the divine world. The _Triad_ or _ternary law_ is
accordingly the constitutive life of things and the real key to
life. It is met with at every step on the ladder of life, from the
constitution of the organic cell through the physiological constitution
of the animal body, the working of the blood and the cerebro-spinal
systems, right on to the super-physical constitution of man, to that of
the universe and of God. Thus, as by enchantment, it opens up to the
amazed spirit the inner structure of the universe, shows the infinite
correspondences of the microcosm and the macrocosm. It acts like a
light, passing into things to make them transparent, lighting up small
and great worlds like so many magic lanterns.
Let us explain this law by the essential correspondence of man with the
universe.
Pythagoras affirmed that the mind of man, or the intellect, takes
from God its immortal and invisible, its absolutely active, nature.
For the mind is that which moves itself. He defined the body as being
its mortal, divisible, and passive part, and thought that what we
call _soul_ is closely united to the mind, though formed of a third
intermediate element, coming from the _cosmic fluid_. The soul,
therefore, resembles an ethereal body which the spirit weaves and
builds for itself. Without this ethereal body, the material body could
not be purified, it would be only an inert and lifeless mass.[13] The
soul possesses a form like that of the body it vivifies, and which it
survives after dissolution or death. Then, as Pythagoras expresses
it, in terms repeated by Plato, the _subtile chariot_ either carries
off the spirit to divine spheres or allows it to fall back into the
dusky regions of matter, according as it is more or less good or bad.
The constitution and evolution of man is repeated in ever-increasing
circles over the whole scale of beings and in every sphere. Just as the
human Psyche struggles between the spirit which attracts and the body
which holds it back, so also humanity evolves between the natural and
animal world into which it plunges by reason of its earthly roots, and
the divine world of pure spirits, its heavenly source, towards which
it aspires to rise. And what happens in humanity happens in all lands
and solar systems in ever differing proportions, ever new modes. Extend
the circle to infinity, and, if you can, form one single concept of the
limitless worlds. What will you find there? The creative thought, the
astral fluid, and worlds in evolution: the spirit, soul, and body of
divinity. Raising veil after veil and fathoming the faculties of this
divinity itself, you will there see Tryad and Dyad clothing themselves
in the dull depths of the Monad, like an efflorescence of stars in the
abyss of immensity.
From this rapid outline some estimate may be formed of the great
importance Pythagoras attached to the ternary law, which may be said
to form the corner-stone of esoteric science. All the mighty religious
initiators have been conscious of it, every theosophist has had a
presentiment of the same. An oracle of Zoroaster says as follows:
The number three reigns everywhere in the universe,
The Monad is its principle.
The incomparable merit of Pythagoras consists in having formulated it
with all the clearness of Greek genius. He made of it the centre of
his theogony and the foundation of the sciences. Already veiled in
the exoteric writings of Plato, though altogether misunderstood by
subsequent philosophers, this conception, in modern times, has been
comprehended by only a few rare initiates of the occult sciences.[14]
Henceforth may be seen what a broad and solid basis the law of the
universal ternary offered to the classification of sciences, and to the
building up of cosmogony and psychology.
Just as the universal ternary is concentrated in the unity of God or in
the Monad, so the human ternary is concentrated in the conscience of
the ego and in the will which gathers together in its living unity all
the faculties of body, soul, and spirit. The human and divine ternary,
summed up in the Monad, constitutes the _sacred Tetrad_. But it is only
relatively that man realizes his own unity. His will which acts over
the whole of his being cannot, however, act fully and simultaneously
in its three organs, _i. e._ in instinct, soul, and intellect. The
universe and God himself appear to him only in turns, successively
reflected by these three mirrors:--1. Seen through instinct and the
kaleidoscope of the senses, God is multiple and as infinite as his
manifestations. Hence polytheism where the number of the gods is
unlimited.--2. Seen through the reasonable soul, God is double, _i. e._
matter and spirit. Hence the dualism of Zoroaster, the Manichaeans,
and several other religions.--3. Seen through pure intellect, he is
threefold, _i.e._ spirit, soul and body in all the manifestations of
the universe. Hence the trinitarian cults of India (Brahma, Vishnu and
Siva) and the trinity of Christianity (Father, Son and Holy Ghost).--4.
Conceived of by the will which sums up the whole, God is one, and we
have the Hermetic monotheism of Moses in all its rigour. Here there is
no longer personification or incarnation, we leave the visible universe
and return to the Absolute. The Eternal alone rules over the world, now
reduced to dust. The diversity of religions, accordingly, comes from
the fact that man realizes divinity only through his own being which is
relative and finite, whilst God is continually realizing the unity of
the three worlds in the harmony of the universe.
This final application would alone demonstrate the--in some way--magic
virtue of the _Tetragram_ in the order of ideas. In it was found not
only the principles of the sciences, the law of beings and their mode
of evolution, but also the very reason of the different religions and
their superior unity. This was in reality the universal key. Hence the
enthusiasm with which Lysis speaks of it in the _Golden Verses_; one
can now understand why the Pythagoreans swore by this great symbol:
“I swear it by him who has transmitted into our souls the
Sacred Quaternion, the source of nature, whose cause is
eternal.”
Pythagoras carried a great deal farther the teaching of numbers. In
each of them he defined a principle, a law, an active force of the
universe. He said, however, that the essential principles are contained
in the first four numbers, since all the others are formed by adding
or multiplying them. In the same way the infinite variety of beings
composing the universe is produced by the combinations of the three
primordial forces: matter, soul, spirit, under the creating impulse of
the divine unity which mingles and differentiates, concentrates and
separates. Along with the chief masters of esoteric science Pythagoras
attached great importance to the numbers seven and ten. _Seven_, the
compound of three and four, signifies the union of man and divinity.
It is the figure of the adepts, of the great initiates, and, since it
expresses the complete realization in all things through seven degrees,
it represents the law of evolution. The _number ten_ formed by the
addition of the first four numbers, and containing the former number,
is the perfect number, _par excellence_, for it represents all the
principles of divinity, evolved and re-united in a new unity.
On finishing the teaching of his theogony, Pythagoras showed his
disciples the nine Muses, personifying the sciences, grouped three
by three, presiding over the triple ternary evolved in nine worlds,
and forming, along with Hestia, the divine science, guardian of the
primordial Fire--_the sacred Decad_.
THIRD DEGREE--PERFECTION[15]
_Cosmogony and psychology.--The evolution
of the soul._
The disciple had received the principles of science from his master.
This first initiation had dispelled the dense scales of matter
which covered the eyes of his spirit. Tearing away the shining veil
of mythology, it had removed him from the visible world to cast
him blindly into boundless space and plunge him into the sun of
Intelligence, whence Truth beams forth over the three worlds. The
science of numbers, however, was nothing but the beginning of the
great initiation. Armed with these principles, he had now to descend
the heights of the Absolute and plunge into the depths of nature,
there to lay hold of the divine thought in the formation of things and
the evolution of the soul through the worlds. Esoteric cosmogony and
psychology touched the greatest mysteries of life as well as dangerous
and jealously-guarded secrets of the occult arts and sciences.
For this reason Pythagoras loved to give these lessons, when the
profane light of day had disappeared, at night by the sea-side, on
the terraces of the Temple of Ceres, before the gentle murmur of
the Ionian sea with its melodious cadence, and beneath the distant
phosphorescence of the starry kosmos; or else in the crypts of the
sanctuary where a gentle steady light was given by Egyptian lamps of
naphtha. Female initiates were present at these night meetings. At
times, priests or priestesses from Delphi or Eleusis came to confirm
the master’s teachings by relating their experiences or through the
lucid words of clairvoyant sleep.
The material and the spiritual evolution of the world are two inverse
movements, though parallel and concordant along the whole scale of
being. The one can be explained only by the other, and, considered
together, they explain the world. Material evolution represents the
manifestation of God in matter by the soul of the world which works out
matter. Spiritual evolution represents the working out of consciousness
in the individual monads and their attempts, through the cycle of
lives, to rejoin the divine spirit from which they emanate. To see the
universe from the physical or from the Spiritual point of view is not
considering something different, it is looking at the world by the
two opposite ends. From the terrestrial point of view, the rational
explanation of the world ought to begin by material evolution, for it
is this side of it which appears to us, but by enabling us to see the
work of the universal spirit in matter and to follow up the development
of the individual monads, it insensibly leads on to the spiritual point
of view and causes us to pass from the without to the within of things,
from the reverse of the world to its face side.
This, at any rate, was the procedure of Pythagoras, who regarded the
universe as a living being, animated by a great soul and filled with
a mighty intelligence. The second part of his teaching began with the
cosmogony.
If we relied on the divisions of the heavens we find in the exoteric
fragments of the Pythagoreans, this astronomy would be similar to that
of Ptolemy; the earth motionless and the sun with the planets and the
whole of the firmament turning round it. The very principle of this
astronomy, however, warns us that it is purely symbolical. In the
centre of his universe Pythagoras places Fire (of which the sun is
only a reflection). Now in the whole of Eastern esoterism, Fire is the
representative sign of Spirit, of divine, universal Consciousness. What
our philosophers generally take as the natural philosophy of Pythagoras
and Plato is accordingly nothing else than an imaged description of
their secret philosophy, clear and light-giving to initiates, but all
the more impenetrable by the mass of people as it was considered to
be simple natural philosophy. We must consequently seek therein a kind
of cosmography of the life of souls and nothing else. The sublunary
region designates the sphere in which terrestrial attraction operates
and is called the circle of generation. Initiates mean by this that for
us the earth is the region of corporeal life. Here take place all the
operations accompanying the incarnation and disincarnation of souls.
The sphere of the six planets and of the sun responds to ascending
categories of spirits. Olympus, conceived as a rolling sphere, is
called the heaven of the stationary, because it is assimilated to the
sphere of perfect souls. This infantile astronomy accordingly masks a
conception of the spiritual universe.
Everything, nevertheless, inclines us to believe that the initiates of
old, and especially Pythagoras, had far more correct notions of the
physical universe. Aristotle positively affirms that the Pythagoreans
believed in the movement of the earth around the sun. Copernicus
asserts that the idea of the rotation of the earth on its axis came to
him whilst reading, in Cicero, that a certain Hycetas of Syracuse had
spoken of the daily motion of the earth. Pythagoras taught the double
movement of the earth to his disciples of the third degree. Without
having the exact measurements of modern science, he knew, as did the
priests of Memphis, that the planets which come from the sun turn
around it; that the stars are so many solar systems governed by the
same laws as ours, and that each has its place in the immense universe.
He also knew that each solar world forms a small universe which has its
correspondence in the spiritual world and its own heaven. The planets
served to mark the scale thereof. Still, these notions which would
have overthrown popular mythology, and would have been set down by the
people as sacrilegious, were never entrusted to popular writing. They
were taught only under the seal of profound secrecy.[16]
The visible universe, said Pythagoras, the heavens with all their
stars, are only a passing form of the soul of the world, of the great
Maia who concentrates the scattered matter in the infinitudes of space
and then dissolves it and scatters it in an imponderable cosmic fluid.
Each solar vortex possesses a fragment of this universal soul, which
evolves in its bosom for millions of centuries with a special force of
impulse and measure. As regards the powers and kingdoms, the species
and the living souls which appear successively in the constellations of
this little world, they come from God, descending from the Father; that
is to say, they emanate from an immutable and superior spiritual order,
as well as from a former material evolution, I mean an extinct solar
system. Of these invisible powers, some, which are altogether immortal,
direct the formation of this world, the others await its unfolding in
cosmic sleep or in divine dream, to return into visible generations,
according to their rank and in obedience to eternal law. All the same,
the solar soul and its central fire, moved directly by the great Monad,
works the matter into a state of fusion. The planets are daughters
of the sun. Each of them, elaborated by the forces of attraction and
rotation inherent in matter, is endowed with a semi-conscious soul
issuing from the solar soul; it has its distinct character, its special
_rôle_ in evolution. As each planet is a different expression of the
thought of God, as it exercises a special function in the planetary
chain, the ancient sages have identified the names of the planets with
those of the great gods who represent the divine faculties in action in
the universe.
The _four elements_, of which the constellations and all beings are
formed, designate four graduated states of matter. The first, being the
densest, is the one most refractory to spirit; the last, being the most
refined, shows great affinity for spirit. _Earth_ represents the solid
state; _water_, the liquid state; _air_, the gaseous state, and _fire_,
the imponderable state. The fifth, the _etheric_ element, represents
a state of matter so fine and vivid that it is no longer atomic, and
possesses the property of universal penetration. It is the original,
cosmic fluid, the astral light or soul of the world.
Afterwards Pythagoras spoke to his disciples of the earth’s
revolutions, according to the traditions of Egypt and Asia. He knew
that the earth, in a state of fusion, was first surrounded by a gaseous
atmosphere which, becoming liquefied by successive coolings, had formed
the seas. As was his wont, he summed up this idea metaphorically by
saying that the seas were produced _by the tears of Saturn_ (cosmic
time).
And now the kingdoms appear, and invisible germs, floating in the
ethereal _aura_ of the earth, whirl about in its gaseous robe and
are then attracted to the deep bosom of the ocean and over the first
continents that pierce their way to the surface. The vegetable and
animal worlds, still in confusion, appear almost at the same time.
Esoteric teachings admit of the transformation of animal species, not
only in accordance with the secondary law of selection, but also by
the primary law of the percussion of the earth by celestial powers,
and of all living beings by intelligible principles and invisible
forces. When a new species appears on the globe, the reason is that a
race of souls of a superior type is being incarnated at a given epoch
in the descendants of the former species, to cause it to mount a step
in the ladder of evolution by moulding it afresh and transforming it
into its image. Thus the esoteric doctrine explains the appearance of
man on earth. From the point of view of terrestrial evolution, man
is the latest branch, the crown of all the former species. But this
point of view is no more sufficient to explain his entrance on to
the stage of life, than it would be to explain the appearance of the
first sea-weed or the first crustacean in the depths of the sea. All
these successive creations infer, as does each birth, the percussion
of the earth by the invisible powers which create life. That of man
infers the previous reign of a celestial humanity presiding over the
unfolding of terrestrial humanity, and sends it, like the waves of a
formidable tide, fresh torrents of souls which become incarnate in its
womb and cause to shine forth the first beams of a divine light in that
bold, impulsive, terrified being who, though only just freed from the
darkness of animality, is forced, in order to live, to struggle with
all the powers of nature.
Pythagoras had obtained in Egyptian temples clear notions as to the
mighty revolutions of the globe. The Indian and Egyptian teachings
spoke of the existence of the ancient austral continent which had
produced the red race and a powerful civilization, called by the
Greeks, the Atlantides. They attributed the alternate emergence
and immersion of continents to the oscillation of the poles and
acknowledged that humanity had thus passed through six deluges. Each
interdiluvian cycle brings about the predominance of a great human
race. In the midst of the partial eclipses of civilization and human
faculties, there is a general ascending movement.
Here we have humanity constituted and the races launched in their
career through the cataclysms of the globe. But on this globe which,
at birth, we take as being the immutable base of the world and which
itself is carried along floating in space, on these continents which
emerge from the seas to disappear afresh, amid these passing peoples,
these crumbling civilizations, what is the mighty and poignant, the
eternal mystery? This is the great inner problem, that of each and all,
the problem of the soul which discovers in itself an abyss of darkness
and light, regarding itself with a mixture of delight and terror and
saying to itself: “I am not of this world, for it is not sufficient to
explain me. I do not come from earth and I am going elsewhere. Where?”
That is the mystery of Psyche, the mystery containing all the rest.
The cosmogony of the visible world, said Pythagoras, has led us to
the history of the earth, and the latter to the mystery of the human
soul. With it we touch the sanctuary of sanctuaries, the holy of
holies. Once its consciousness aroused, the soul becomes for itself
the most astonishing of sights. But even this consciousness is only
the enlightened surface of its being, in which it suspects there to
be dark and unfathomable abysses. In its unknown depths, the divine
Psyche contemplates with fascinated look all lives and worlds, past
and present, and the future joined to them by Eternity. “Know thyself,
and thou shalt know the universe of the gods.” Such was the secret of
the sages and initiates. To penetrate through this narrow door into
the immensity of the invisible universe, let us awake in ourselves
direct vision of the purified soul, and arm ourselves with the torch of
intelligence, with the science of the sacred principles and numbers.
Pythagoras thus passed from physical cosmogony to spiritual cosmogony.
After the evolution of the earth, he told of that of the soul through
the different worlds. Outside of initiation, this doctrine is known
under the name of _transmigration of souls_. Regarding no part of
secret doctrine has there been more false reasoning than here, to such
an extent indeed that ancient and modern literature are acquainted with
it only through puerile travesties. Plato himself, who more than any
other philosopher contributed to the popularizing of the doctrine, has
only given fantastic and at times extravagant glimpses of it, either
because prudence or his oath of secrecy prevented him from telling all
he knew. Few now doubt the fact that it must have had for initiates
a scientific aspect, opening up endless perspectives and affording
divine consolation to the soul. The doctrine of the ascensional life
of the soul through series of existences is the common feature of
esoteric traditions and the crown of theosophy. I will add that it is
of the utmost importance to us. For the man of the present day rejects
with equal scorn the abstract and vague immortality of philosophy
and the childish heaven of an infant religion. And yet he abhors the
dryness and nothingness of materialism. Unconsciously he aspires to
the consciousness of an _organic immortality_ responding at once to
the demands of his reason and the indestructible needs of his soul.
Besides, it can well be understood why the initiates of the ancient
religions, though they were acquainted with these truths, kept them
so secret. They are of a nature to turn the minds of those untrained
to receive them. They are closely allied to the profound mysteries of
spiritual generation, of sex and generation by flesh, on which hang the
destinies of future humanity.
It was therefore with a kind of dread that the supreme hour for this
esoteric teaching was awaited. Through the words of Pythagoras, as by
some slow incantation, heavy matter seemed to lose its weight, the
things of earth became transparent, those of heaven visible to the
spirit. Golden and azure spheres, furrowed with luminous essence,
unfolded their orbs right into the infinitudes of space.