Ever since the publication of the Secret
Doctrine Students of Theosophy (outside the inner ring of
Occult Sciences) have complained that the teachings contained
in the work do not satisfy them. One, mentioning the lengthy and
rabid abuse of it by an old, though really insignificant, if brutal,
enemy, takes me to task for leaving a door open to such criticism
by taking too little into account modern science and modern thought(!);
another complains that my explanations are not complete; thus,
he says:
For the
last ten years, I have been a close reader of theosophical
literature. I have read and re-read the Secret Doctrine and
collated passages, and nothing is more disheartening than to find
some of the best explanations on Occult points, just as they begin
to grow a little lucid, marred by a reference to some exoteric
philosophy or religion, which breaks up the train of reasoning
and leaves the explanation unfinished. . . . We can understand
parts, but we cannot get a succinct idea, particularly of the
teachings as to Parabrahm (the Absolute), the 1st and 2nd Logos,
Spirit, Matter, Fohat, etc., etc.
This is the direct and natural result of the very mistaken notion
that the work I have called the "Secret Doctrine" had
ever been intended by me to dovetail with modern Science, or to
explain "occult points." I was and still am more concerned
with facts than with scientific hypotheses. My chief and
only object was to bring into prominence that the basic and fundamental
principles of every exoteric religion and philosophy, old or new,
were from first to last but the echoes of the primeval "Wisdom
Religion." I sought to show that the TREE
OF KNOWLEDGE, like Truth
itself, was One; and that, however differing in form and
color, the foliage of the twigs, the trunk and its main branches
were still those of the same old Tree, in the shadow of which
had developed and grown the (now) esoteric religious philosophy
of the races that preceded our present mankind on earth.
This object, I believe I have carried out as far as it could be
carried, in the first two volumes of the Secret Doctrine. It
was not the occult philosophy of the esoteric teachings that I
undertook to explain to the world at large, for then the qualification
of "Secret" would have become like the secret of
"Polichinelle" shouted in the manner of a stage a
parte; but simply to give that which could be given out,
and to parallel it with the beliefs and dogmas of the past
and present nations, thus showing the original source of the latter
and how disfigured they had become. If my work is, at this day
of materialistic assumptions and universal iconoclasm, too premature
for the masses of the profane so much the worse for those masses.
But it was not too premature for the earnest students of theosophy except
those, perhaps, who had hoped that a treatise on such intricate
correspondences as exist between the religions and philosophies
of the almost forgotten Past, and those of the modern day, could
be as simple as a shilling "shocker" from a railway
stall. Even one system of philosophy at a time, whether that of
Kant or of Herbert Spencer, of Spinoza or of Hartmann, requires
more than a study of several years. Does it not therefore, stand
to reason that a work which compares several dozens of philosophies
and over half-a-dozen of world-religions, a work which has to
unveil the roots with the greatest precautions, as it can only
hint at the secret blossoms here and there cannot be comprehended
at a first reading, nor even after several, unless the reader
elaborates for himself a system for it? That this can be done
and is done is shown by the "Two Students of the E.S."
They are now synthesizing the "Secret Doctrine," and
they do it in the most lucid and comprehensive way, in this magazine.
No more than any one else have they understood that work immediately
after reading it. But they went to work in dead earnest. They
indexed it for themselves, classifying the contents in two portions the
exoteric and the esoteric; and having achieved this
preliminary labor, they now present the former portion to the
readers at large, while storing the latter for their own practical
instruction and benefit. Why should not every earnest theosophist
do the same?
There are several ways of acquiring knowledge: (a) by accepting
blindly the dicta of the church or modern science; (b) by
rejecting both and starting to find the truth for oneself. The
first method is easy and leads to social respectability and the
praise of men; the other is difficult and requires more than ordinary
devotion to truth, a disregard for direct personal benefits and
an unwavering perseverance. Thus it was in the days of old and
so it is now, except perhaps, that such devotion to truth has
been more rare in our own day than it was of yore. Indeed, the
modern Eastern student's unwillingness to think for himself is
now as great as Western exactions and criticism of other people's
thoughts.
He demands and expects that his "Path" shall be engineered
with all the selfish craft of modern comfort, macadamized, laid
out with swift railways and telegraphs, and even telescopes, through
which he may, while sitting at his ease, survey the works of other
people; and while criticizing them, look out for the easiest,
in order to play at the Occultist and Amateur Student of Theosophy.
The real "Path" to esoteric knowledge is very different.
Its entrance is overgrown with the brambles of neglect, the travesties
of truth during long ages block the way, and it is obscured by
the proud contempt of self-sufficiency and with every verity distorted
out of all focus. To push over the threshold alone, demands an
incessant, often unrequited labor of years, and once on the other
side of the entrance, the weary pilgrim has to toil up on foot,
for the narrow way leads to forbidding mountain heights, unmeasured
and unknown, save to those who have reached the cloud-capped summit
before. Thus must he mount, step by step, having to conquer every
inch of ground before him by his own exertions; moving onward,
guided by strange land marks the nature of which he can ascertain
only by deciphering the weather-beaten, half-defaced inscriptions
as he treads along, for woe to him, if, instead of studying them,
he sits by coolly pronouncing them "indecipherable. "
The "Doctrine of the Eye" is maya; that of the
"Heart" alone, can make of him an elect.
Is it to be wondered that so few reach the goal, that so many
are called, but so few are chosen? Is not the reason for this
explained in three lines on page 27 of the "Voice of the
Silence"? These say that while "The first repeat in
pride 'Behold, I know,' the last, they who in humbleness
have garnered, low confess, 'thus have I heard'"; and hence,
become the only "chosen."
Lucifer, June, 1890
H. P. Blavatsky
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