The New Avatar and The Destiny of the Soul. Buck Jirah Dewey
and “Official Heads” often wholly ignorant of the Philosophy, which colossal egotism and exploitation could hardly supply, have brought the very names “Theosophy” and “Brotherhood” into contempt and ridicule in many sections.
As some of these “official heads” are still in evidence, final results cannot now be formulated, and need not be here considered or forecast. The evidence is not all in.
Personally, I desire to record my great indebtedness and highest appreciation of a noble life and a magnificent work accomplished by one of the most remarkable and unselfish women known to history, and for the light and knowledge which she made accessible, and which I still hold, practically unchanged, but with the theorems of Natural Science, in place of the postulates of Philosophy as better fitting “the progressive intelligence” of the present time.
The two lines of presentation when clearly apprehended are not antagonistic, but supplementary. Their aims and purpose are the same.
CHAPTER IV
THE MEASURE OF VALUES
This is a very utilitarian age. Start almost any subject, propose almost any scheme, adventure, or investment, and the question is asked, “Will it pay?” The multitude are cautious; the lower stratum, the unsuccessful – the poor and the oppressed – are envious and often bitter and resentful; the successful are often reckless, dissipated, and proud.
I am not writing an essay on Economics, but on Ethics and Psychology; on the character, value, and use of the resources within ourselves; our real possessions. Here only may be found actual values.
I am not considering the “hereafter,” as to “rewards and punishments”; what gods, devils, angels, or men may do to us, here or hereafter; but what we may (if we choose) do for ourselves.
This question is practical to the last degree. Put the question, “does it pay?” and I answer: It pays like nothing else on earth; it is the only thing that is independent of time, place, or circumstance.
It concerns man’s actual possessions, of which nothing in “the three worlds” can ever dispossess him. I know of nothing so beneficent, in any concept of God or Nature, Providence or Destiny, as this birthright and opportunity of man, to build character, and be what he chooses to be.
He who knows his power, realizes his opportunity and utilizes his resources, may build a Palace of the Soul, in which he may dwell, literally, in a “kingdom of heaven.” And because God is the Architect, and Man the Contractor and Builder, working strictly to the “plans” and the designs, “that house shall stand.” It is founded on the “Rock of Ages.”
Did anyone ever know or see a noble character that was not built by the Individual himself, by personal effort, by self-control, by self-denial, by justice and kindness to others; often in the face of Poverty; often in spite of wealth; often in the face of sickness, pain and deformity; perhaps deaf and dumb and blind; and yet, like Helen Keller, the soul triumphant and glorified?
To-day, as I write, I went to the Crematory to see the dissolution of a poor, twisted, deformed, and tortured body of a woman past fifty, in which had dwelt a soul so serene, cheerful, and patient, that the beatitudes clustered around her, like doves in a garden of roses. It required no stretch of the imagination to determine what society she had entered. “Like seeks like,” and each “goes to his own place.” Her motive, the day-star of her life, was the Mother-Love for an only son. In spite of poverty and pain, she must reward him for love and loyalty, by being bright and cheerful and by belittling her own discomfort to save him sorrow.
Her reward was the growth of the soul that has now risen to its great reward, and dearer and sweeter than all this to the Mother-heart, was to see and realize the growth, the tenderness, and the beautifying of the soul of the Son.
Did it pay? I can almost hear her shouting for joy as she joins the anthem of the Invisible Choir of Helpers that welcome her just over the border. She prayed many times, even the last time I saw her, before the great change, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” I could only say, “Wait just a little longer,” with the assurance that every shadow of darkness shall be transformed into dazzling light, and every drop of bitterness into the nectar of the Gods. She was almost deaf and blind, but you should have heard the sweetness in her voice and seen the radiance in her face. I did not know that the end was so near.
To the son, the sweetest sound on earth was that mother’s voice, but, though silent for a thousand years, he would not recall her to one moment of the old torture. His sorrow for himself is swallowed up and glorified in his joy for her release.
And what is all this but a lesson in practical psychology, the growth of the soul?
Does it pay? Ask that Mother; ask that Son now. “How do you know?” How do you know anything, except as you see, or experience it?
Character reveals itself. It cannot long hide itself. When the check goes to the bank the resources are there. The Bank of God, and of Nature, and of Compensation, and Eternal Justice, cannot fail. Its resources are infinite.
Independent of time, place, or circumstance, I said: Intrinsic, Inalienable.
Take another illustration almost at random. A cultured soul, winning its way alone, and at great disadvantage.
In the middle of the tenth century lived Farabi, or Alfarabi. He did not confine himself to the Koran, but fathomed the most useful and interesting sciences. He visited Sifah Doulet, the Sultan of Syria. The Sultan was surrounded by the learned who were conversing with him on the sciences.
Farabi entered the salon where they were assembled and remained standing till the Emperor desired that he should be seated; at which the philosopher, by a freedom rather astonishing, went and sat on the end of the Sultan’s sofa. The Prince, surprised at his boldness, called one of his officers and commanded him, in a tongue not generally known, to put out the intruder. The philosopher heard him, and replied in the same tongue, “O Signor! he who acts so hastily is subject to repent.” The Prince was no less astonished by his reply than by his manner and assurance.
Wishing to know more of him, he began a conference among his philosophers, in which Farabi disputed with so much eloquence and energy that he reduced all the doctors to silence. Then the Sultan ordered music, and when the musicians entered, Farabi accompanied them upon the lute with so much delicacy as to win the admiration of all present. He then drew out, at the Sultan’s request, a piece of his own composition, and sang it with his own accompaniment, and had the audience first in laughter, and then in tears – and to complete his Magic, changed to another piece and put them all asleep.
The Sultan in vain urged Farabi to remain near his person, and offered him a high position in his household.
Voluminous writings of Farabi are preserved in the library at Leyden.
“A tale of the Arabian Nights,” you may say, and yet it is historic. It reveals the fact that resources, character, and wisdom, in the end triumph and surmount all obstacles. They are intrinsic and permanent values.
They may remain unknown or unappreciated by others, but they are none the less riches to him who possesses them.
It was during this same tenth century in which Alfarabi lived, that there existed at Baghdad a Society composed of Mohammedans, Jews, Christians, and Atheists, for the purpose of Philosophical discussions and scientific investigation; and it was doubtless under this influence that Alfarabi was educated and enabled to cope with the philosophers of the world. Here in Arabia was the highest culture known at the time, in Medicine and all the Arts and Sciences, while the Ecclesiastics were inaugurating the dark ages elsewhere, to eventually spread over the whole of Europe.
Here and there have always appeared individuals superior to their age and time; men who dug to the foundations of knowledge, built character, accumulated resources, and left their impress upon all subsequent time.
Nor has this accumulation of real knowledge been derived from books and schools, though these resources have not been neglected.
Real culture of the Individual has always consisted