Many, perhaps most, who see the title of this book will at
once traverse it, and will deny that there is anything valuable
which can be rightly described as "Esoteric Christianity." There is
a wide-spread, and withal a popular, idea that there is no such
thing as an occult teaching in connection with Christianity, and
that "The Mysteries," whether Lesser or Greater, were a purely
Pagan institution. The very name of "The Mysteries of Jesus," so
familiar in the ears of the Christians of the first centuries,
would come with a shock of surprise on those of their modern
successors, and, if spoken as denoting a special and definite
institution in the Early Church, would cause a smile of
incredulity. It has actually been made a matter of boast that
Christianity has no secrets, that whatever it has to say it says to
all, and whatever it has to teach it teaches to all. Its truths are
supposed to be so simple, that "a way-faring man, though a fool,
may not err therein," and the "simple Gospel" has become a stock
phrase.It is necessary, therefore, to prove clearly that in the
Early Church, at least, Christianity was no whit behind other great
religions in possessing a hidden side, and that it guarded, as a
priceless treasure, the secrets revealed only to a select few in
its Mysteries. But ere doing this it will be well to consider the
whole question of this hidden side of religions, and to see why
such a side must exist if a religion is to be strong and stable;
for thus its existence in Christianity will appear as a foregone
conclusion, and the references to it in the writings of the
Christian Fathers will appear simple and natural instead of
surprising and unintelligible. As a historical fact, the existence
of this esotericism is demonstrable; but it may also be shown that
intellectually it is a necessity.The first question we have to answer is: What is the object
of religions? They are given to the world by men wiser than the
masses of the people on whom they are bestowed, and are intended to
quicken human evolution. In order to do this effectively they must
reach individuals and influence them. Now all men are not at the
same level of evolution, but evolution might be figured as a rising
gradient, with men stationed on it at every point. The most highly
evolved are far above the least evolved, both in intelligence and
character; the capacity alike to understand and to act varies at
every stage. It is, therefore, useless to give to all the same
religious teaching; that which would help the intellectual man
would be entirely unintelligible to the stupid, while that which
would throw the saint into ecstasy would leave the criminal
untouched. If, on the other hand, the teaching be suitable to help
the unintelligent, it is intolerably crude and jejune to the
philosopher, while that which redeems the criminal is utterly
useless to the saint. Yet all the types need religion, so that each
may reach upward to a life higher than that which he is leading,
and no type or grade should be sacrificed to any other. Religion
must be as graduated as evolution, else it fails in its
object.Next comes the question: In what way do religions seek to
quicken human evolution? Religions seek to evolve the moral and
intellectual natures, and to aid the spiritual nature to unfold
itself. Regarding man as a complex being, they seek to meet him at
every point of his constitution, and therefore to bring messages
suitable for each, teachings adequate to the most diverse human
needs. Teachings must therefore be adapted to each mind and heart
to which they are addressed. If a religion does not reach and
master the intelligence, if it does not purify and inspire the
emotions, it has failed in its object, so far as the person
addressed is concerned.Not only does it thus direct itself to the intelligence and
the emotions, but it seeks,[Pg 5] as said, to
stimulate the unfoldment of the spiritual nature. It answers to
that inner impulse which exists in humanity, and which is ever
pushing the race onwards. For deeply within the heart of all—often
overlaid by transitory conditions, often submerged under pressing
interests and anxieties—there exists a continual seeking after God.
"As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth"
1 humanity
after God. The search is sometimes checked for a space, and the
yearning seems to disappear. Phases recur in civilisation and in
thought, wherein this cry of the human Spirit for the
divine—seeking its source as water seeks its level, to borrow a
simile from Giordano Bruno—this yearning of the human Spirit for
that which is akin to it in the universe, of the part for the
whole, seems to be stilled, to have vanished; none the less does
that yearning reappear, and once more the same cry rings out from
the Spirit. Trampled on for a time, apparently destroyed, though
the tendency may be, it rises again and again with inextinguishable
persistence, it repeats itself again and again, no matter how often
it is silenced; and it thus proves itself to be an inherent
tendency in human nature, an ineradicable constituent thereof.
Those who declare triumphantly, "Lo! it is dead!" find it facing
them again with undiminished vitality. Those who build without
allowing for it find their well-constructed edifices riven as by an
earthquake. Those who hold it to be outgrown find the wildest
superstitions succeed its denial. So much is it an integral part of
humanity, that man will have some answer to his
questionings; rather an answer that is false, than none. If he
cannot find religious truth, he will take religious error rather
than no religion, and will accept the crudest and most incongruous
ideals rather than admit that the ideal is non-existent.Religion, then, meets this craving, and taking hold of the
constituent in human nature that gives rise to it, trains it,
strengthens it, purifies it and guides it towards its proper
ending—the union of the human Spirit with the divine, so "that God
may be all in all." 2The next question which meets us in our enquiry is: What is
the source of religions? To this question two answers have been
given in modern times—that of the Comparative Mythologists and that
of the Comparative Religionists. Both base their answers on a
common basis of admitted facts. Research has indisputably proved
that the religions of the world are markedly similar in their main
teachings, in their possession of Founders who display superhuman
powers and extraordinary moral elevation, in their ethical
precepts, in their use of means to come into touch with invisible
worlds, and in the symbols by which they express their leading
beliefs. This similarity, amounting in many cases to identity,
proves—according to both the above schools—a common
origin.But on the nature of this common origin the two schools are
at issue. The Comparative Mythologists contend that the common
origin is the common ignorance, and that the loftiest religious
doctrines are simply refined expressions of the crude and barbarous
guesses of savages, of primitive men, regarding themselves and
their surroundings. Animism, fetishism, nature-worship,
sun-worship—these are the constituents of the primeval mud out of
which has grown the splendid lily of religion. A Kṛiṣhṇa, a
Buddha, a Lao-tze, a Jesus, are the highly civilised but lineal
descendants of the whirling medicine-man of the savage. God is a
composite photograph of the innumerable Gods who are the
personifications of the forces of nature. And so forth. It is all
summed up in the phrase: Religions are branches from a common
trunk—human ignorance.The Comparative Religionists consider, on the other hand,
that all religions originate from the teachings of Divine Men, who
give out to the different nations of the world, from time to time,
such parts of the fundamental verities of religion as the people
are capable of receiving, teaching ever the same morality,
inculcating the use of similar means, employing the same
significant symbols. The savage religions—animism and the rest—are
degenerations, the results of decadence, distorted and dwarfed
descendants of true religious beliefs. Sun-worship and pure forms
of nature-worship were, in their day, noble religions, highly
allegorical but full of profound truth and knowledge. The great
Teachers—it is alleged by Hindus, Buddhists, and by some
Comparative Religionists, such as Theosophists—form an enduring
Brotherhood of men who have risen beyond humanity, who appear at
certain periods to enlighten the world, and who are the spiritual
guardians of the human race. This view may be summed up in the
phrase: "Religions are branches from a common trunk—Divine
Wisdom."This Divine Wisdom is spoken of as the Wisdom, the Gnosis,
the Theosophia, and some, in different ages of the world, have so
desired to emphasise their belief in this unity of religions, that
they have preferred the eclectic name of Theosophist to any
narrower designation.The relative value of the contentions of these two opposed
schools must be judged by the cogency of the evidence put forth by
each. The appearance of a degenerate form of a noble idea may
closely resemble that of a refined product of a coarse idea, and
the only method of deciding between degeneration and evolution
would be the examination, if possible, of intermediate and remote
ancestors. The evidence brought forward by believers in the Wisdom
is of this kind. They allege: that the Founders of religions,
judged by the records of their teachings, were far above the level
of average humanity; that the Scriptures of religions contain moral
precepts, sublime ideals, poetical aspirations, profound
philosophical statements, which are not even approached in beauty
and elevation by later writings in the same religions—that is, that
the old is higher than the new, instead of the new being higher
than the old; that no case can be shown of the refining and
improving process alleged to be the source of current religions,
whereas many cases of degeneracy from pure teachings can be
adduced; that even among savages, if their religions be carefully
studied, many traces of lofty ideas can be found, ideas which are
obviously above the productive capacity of the savages
themselves.This last idea has been worked out by Mr. Andrew Lang,
who—judging by his book on The Making of Religion—should
be classed as a Comparative Religionist rather than as a
Comparative Mythologist. He points to the existence of a common
tradition, which, he alleges, cannot have been evolved by the
savages for themselves, being men whose ordinary beliefs are of the
crudest kind and whose minds are little developed. He shows, under
crude beliefs and degraded views, lofty traditions of a sublime
character, touching the nature of the Divine Being and His
relations with men. The deities who are worshipped are, for the
most part, the veriest devils, but behind, beyond all these, there
is a dim but glorious over-arching Presence, seldom or never named,
but whispered of as source of all, as power and love and goodness,
too tender to awaken terror, too good to require supplication. Such
ideas manifestly cannot have been conceived by the savages among
whom they are found, and they remain as eloquent witnesses of the
revelations made by some great Teacher—dim tradition of whom is
generally also discoverable—who was a Son of the Wisdom, and
imparted some of its teachings in a long bye-gone age.The reason, and, indeed, the justification, of the view taken
by the Comparative Mythologists is patent. They found in every
direction low forms of religious belief, existing among savage
tribes. These were seen to accompany general lack of civilisation.
Regarding civilised men as evolving from uncivilised, what more
natural than to regard civilised religion as evolving from
uncivilised? It is the first obvious idea. Only later and deeper
study can show that the savages of to-day are not our ancestral
types, but are the degenerated offsprings of great civilised stocks
of the past, and that man in his infancy was not left to grow up
untrained, but was nursed and educated by his elders, from whom he
received his first guidance alike in religion and civilisation.
This view is being substantiated by such facts as those dwelt on by
Lang, and will presently raise the question, "Who were these
elders, of whom traditions are everywhere found?"Still pursuing our enquiry, we come next to the question: To
what people were religions given? And here we come at once to the
difficulty with which every Founder of a religion must deal, that
already spoken of as bearing on the primary object of religion
itself, the quickening of human evolution, with its corollary that
all grades of evolving humanity must be considered by Him. Men are
at every stage of evolution, from the most barbarous to the most
developed; men are found of lofty intelligence, but also of the
most unevolved mentality; in one place there is a highly developed
and complex civilisation, in another a crude and simple polity.
Even within any given civilisation we find the most varied
types—the most ignorant and the most educated, the most thoughtful
and the most careless, the most spiritual and the most brutal; yet
each one of these types must be reached, and each must be helped in
the place where he is. If evolution be true, this difficulty is
inevitable, and must be faced and overcome by the divine Teacher,
else will His work be a failure. If man is evolving as all around
him is evolving, these differences of development, these varied
grades of intelligence, must be a characteristic of humanity
everywhere, and must be provided for in each of the religions of
the world.We are thus brought face to face with the position that we
cannot have one and the same religious teaching even for a single
nation, still less for a single civilisation, or for the whole
world. If there be but one teaching, a large number of those to
whom it is addressed will entirely escape its influence. If it be
made suitable for those whose intelligence is limited, whose
morality is elementary, whose perceptions are obtuse, so that it
may help and train them, and thus enable them to evolve, it will be
a religion utterly unsuitable for those men, living in the same
nation, forming part of the same civilisation, who have keen and
delicate moral perceptions, bright and subtle intelligence, and
evolving spirituality. But if, on the other hand, this latter class
is to be helped, if intelligence is to be given a philosophy that
it can regard as admirable, if delicate moral perceptions are to be
still further refined, if the dawning spiritual nature is to be
enabled to develope into the perfect day, then the religion will be
so spiritual, so intellectual, and so moral, that when it is
preached to the former class it will not touch their minds or their
hearts, it will be to them a string of meaningless phrases,
incapable of arousing their latent intelligence, or of giving them
any motive for conduct which will help them to grow into a purer
morality.Looking, then, at these facts concerning religion,
considering its object, its means, its origin, the nature and
varying needs of the people to whom it is addressed, recognising
the evolution of spiritual, intellectual, and moral faculties in
man, and the need of each man for such training as is suitable for
the stage of evolution at which he has arrived, we are led to the
absolute necessity of a varied and graduated religious teaching,
such as will meet these different needs and help each man in his
own place.There is yet another reason why esoteric teaching is
desirable with respect to a certain class of truths. It is
eminently the fact in regard to this class that "knowledge is
power." The public promulgation of a philosophy profoundly
intellectual, sufficient to train an already highly developed
intellect, and to draw the allegiance of a lofty mind, cannot
injure any. It can be preached without hesitation, for it does not
attract the ignorant, who turn away from it as dry, stiff, and
uninteresting. But there are teachings which deal with the
constitution of nature, explain recondite laws, and throw light on
hidden processes, the knowledge of which gives control over natural
energies, and enables its possessor to direct these energies to
certain ends, as a chemist deals with the production of chemical
compounds. Such knowledge may be very useful to highly developed
men, and may much increase their power of serving the race. But if
this knowledge were published to the world, it might and would be
misused, just as the knowledge of subtle poisons was misused in the
Middle Ages by the Borgias and by others. It would pass into the
hands of people of strong intellect, but of unregulated desires,
men moved by separative instincts, seeking the gain of their
separate selves and careless of the common good. They would be
attracted by the idea of gaining powers which would raise them
above the general level, and place ordinary humanity at their
mercy, and would rush to acquire the knowledge which exalts its
possessors to a superhuman rank. They would, by its possession,
become yet more selfish and confirmed in their separateness, their
pride would be nourished and their sense of aloofness intensified,
and thus they would inevitably be driven along the road which leads
to diabolism, the Left Hand Path, whose goal is isolation and not
union. And they would not only themselves suffer in their inner
nature, but they would also become a menace to Society, already
suffering sufficiently at the hands of men whose intellect is more
evolved than their conscience. Hence arises the necessity of
withholding certain teachings from those who, morally, are as yet
unfitted to receive them; and this necessity presses on every
Teacher who is able to impart such knowledge. He desires to give it
to those who will use the powers it confers for the general good,
for quickening human evolution; but he equally desires to be no
party to giving it to those who would use it for their own
aggrandisement at the cost of others.Nor is this a matter of theory only, according to the Occult
Records, which give the details of the events alluded to in Genesis
vi. et seq. This knowledge was, in those ancient times and
on the continent of Atlantis, given without any rigid conditions as
to the moral elevation, purity, and unselfishness of the
candidates. Those who were intellectually qualified were taught,
just as men are taught ordinary science in modern days. The
publicity now so imperiously demanded was then given, with the
result that men became giants in knowledge but also giants in evil,
till the earth groaned under her oppressors and the cry of a
trampled humanity rang through the worlds. Then came the
destruction of Atlantis, the whelming of that vast continent
beneath the waters of the ocean, some particulars of which are
given in the Hebrew Scriptures in the story of the Noachian deluge,
and in the Hindu Scriptures of the further East in the story of
Vaivasvata Manu.Since that experience of the danger of allowing unpurified
hands to grasp the knowledge which is power, the great Teachers
have imposed rigid conditions as regards purity, unselfishness, and
self-control on all candidates for such instruction. They
distinctly refuse to impart knowledge of this kind to any who will
not consent to a rigid discipline, intended to eliminate
separateness of feeling and interest. They measure the moral
strength of the candidate even more than his intellectual
development, for the teaching itself will develope the intellect
while it puts a strain on the moral nature. Far better that the
Great Ones should be assailed by the ignorant for Their supposed
selfishness in withholding knowledge, than that They should
precipitate the world into another Atlantean
catastrophe.So much of theory we lay down as bearing on the necessity of
a hidden side in all religions. When from theory we turn to facts,
we naturally ask: Has this hidden side existed in the past, forming
a part of the religions of the world? The answer must be an
immediate and unhesitating affirmative; every great religion has
claimed to possess a hidden teaching, and has declared that it is
the repository of theoretical mystic, and further of practical
mystic, or occult, knowledge. The mystic explanation of popular
teaching was public, and expounded the latter as an allegory,
giving to crude and irrational statements and stories a meaning
which the intellect could accept. Behind this theoretical
mysticism, as it was behind the popular, there existed further the
practical mysticism, a hidden spiritual teaching, which was only
imparted under definite conditions, conditions known and published,
that must be fulfilled by every candidate. S. Clement of Alexandria
mentions this division of the Mysteries. After purification, he
says, "are the Minor Mysteries, which have some foundation of
instruction and of preliminary preparation for what is to come
after; and the Great Mysteries, in which nothing remains to be
learned of the universe, but only to contemplate and comprehend
nature and things." 3This position cannot be controverted as regards the ancient
religions. The Mysteries of Egypt were the glory of that ancient
land, and the noblest sons of Greece, such as Plato, went to Saïs
and to Thebes to be initiated by Egyptian Teachers of Wisdom. The
Mithraic Mysteries of the Persians, the Orphic and Bacchic
Mysteries and the later Eleusinian semi-Mysteries of the Greeks,
the Mysteries of Samothrace, Scythia, Chaldea, are familiar in
name, at least, as household words. Even in the extremely diluted
form of the Eleusinian Mysteries, their value is most highly
praised by the most eminent men of Greece, as Pindar, Sophocles,
Isocrates, Plutarch, and Plato. Especially were they regarded as
useful with regard to post-mortem existence, as the
Initiated learned that which ensured his future happiness. Sopater
further alleged that Initiation established a kinship of the soul
with the divine Nature, and in the exoteric Hymn to Demeter covert
references are made to the holy child, Iacchus, and to his death
and resurrection, as dealt with in the Mysteries. 4From Iamblichus, the great theurgist of the third and fourth
centuries A.D., much may be learned as to the object of the
Mysteries. Theurgy was magic, "the last part of the sacerdotal
science," 5 and
was practised in the Greater Mysteries, to evoke the appearance of
superior Beings. The theory on which these Mysteries were based may
be very briefly thus stated: There is One, prior to all beings,
immovable, abiding in the solitude of His own unity. From That
arises the Supreme God, the Self-begotten, the Good, the Source of
all things, the Root, the God of Gods, the First Cause, unfolding
Himself into Light. 6 From Him springs the Intelligible World,
or ideal universe, the Universal Mind, the Nous and the
incorporeal or intelligible Gods belong to this. From this the
World-Soul, to which belong the "divine intellectual forms which
are present with the visible bodies of the Gods." 7 Then come various
hierarchies of superhuman beings, Archangels, Archons (Rulers) or
Cosmocratores, Angels, Daimons, &c. Man is a being of a lower
order, allied to these in his nature, and is capable of knowing
them; this knowledge was achieved in the Mysteries, and it led to
union with God. 8 In the Mysteries these doctrines are
expounded, "the progression from, and the regression of all things
to, the One, and the entire domination of the One," 9 and, further, these
different Beings were evoked, and appeared, sometimes to teach,
sometimes, by Their mere presence, to elevate and purify. "The
Gods," says Iamblichus, "being benevolent and propitious, impart
their light to theurgists in unenvying abundance, calling upwards
their souls to themselves, procuring them a union with themselves,
and accustoming them, while they are yet in body, to be separated
from bodies, and to be led round to their eternal and intelligible
principle." 10
For "the soul having a twofold life, one being in conjunction with
body, but the other being separate from all body," 11 it is most necessary to
learn to separate it from the body, that thus it may unite itself
with the Gods by its intellectual and divine part, and learn the
genuine principles of knowledge, and the truths of the intelligible
world. 12 "The
presence of the Gods, indeed, imparts to us health of body, virtue
of soul, purity of intellect, and, in one word, elevates everything
in us to its proper nature. It exhibits that which is not body as
body to the eyes of the soul, through those of the body."
13 When the
Gods appear, the soul receives "a liberation from the passions, a
transcendent perfection, and an energy entirely more excellent, and
participates of divine love and an immense joy." 14 By this we gain a
divine life, and are rendered in reality divine. 15The culminating point of the Mysteries was when the Initiate
became a God, whether by union with a divine Being outside himself,
or by the realisation of the divine Self within him. This was
termed ecstasy, and was a state of what the Indian Yogî would term
high Samâdhi, the gross body being entranced and the freed soul
effecting its own union with the Great One. This "ecstasy is not a
faculty properly so called, it is a state of the soul, which
transforms it in such a way that it then perceives what was
previously hidden from it. The state will not be permanent until
our union with God is irrevocable; here, in earth life, ecstasy is
but a flash.... Man can cease to become man, and become God; but
man cannot be God and man at the same time." 16 Plotinus states that he
had reached this state "but three times as yet."So also Proclus taught that the one salvation of the soul was
to return to her intellectual form, and thus escape from the
"circle of generation, from abundant wanderings," and reach true
Being, "to the uniform and simple energy of the period of sameness,
instead of the abundantly wandering motion of the period which is
characterised by difference." This is the life sought by those
initiated by Orpheus into the Mysteries of Bacchus and Proserpine,
and this is the result of the practice of the purificatory, or
cathartic, virtues. 17These virtues were necessary for the Greater Mysteries, as
they concerned the purifying of the subtle body, in which the soul
worked when out of the gross body. The political or practical
virtues belonged to man's ordinary life, and were required to some
extent before he could be a candidate even for such a School as is
described below. Then came the cathartic virtues, by which the
subtle body, that of the emotions and lower mind, was purified;
thirdly the intellectual, belonging to the Augöeides, or the
light-form of the intellect; fourthly the contemplative, or
paradigmatic, by which union with God was realised. Porphyry
writes: "He who energises according to the practical virtues is a
worthy man; but he who energises according to the purifying virtues
is an angelic man, or is also a good daimon. He who energises
according to the intellectual virtues alone is a God; but he who
energises according to the paradigmatic virtues is the Father of
the Gods." 18Much instruction was also given in the Mysteries by the
archangelic and other hierarchies, and Pythagoras, the great
teacher who was initiated in India, and who gave "the knowledge of
things that are" to his pledged disciples, is said to have
possessed such a knowledge of music that he could use it for the
controlling of men's wildest passions, and the illuminating of
their minds. Of this, instances are given by Iamblichus in his
Life of Pythagoras. It seems probable that the title of
Theodidaktos, given to Ammonius Saccas, the master of Plotinus,
referred less to the sublimity of his teachings than to this divine
instruction received by him in the Mysteries.Some of the symbols used are explained by Iamblichus,
19 who bids
Porphyry remove from his thought the image of the thing symbolised
and reach its intellectual meaning. Thus "mire" meant everything
that was bodily and material; the "God sitting above the lotus"
signified that God transcended both the mire and the intellect,
symbolised by the lotus, and was established in Himself, being
seated. If "sailing in a ship," His rule over the world was
pictured. And so on. 20 On this use of symbols Proclus remarks
that "the Orphic method aimed at revealing divine things by means
of symbols, a method common to all writers of divine lore."
21The Pythagorean School in Magna Græcia was closed at the end
of the sixth century B.C., owing to the persecution of the civil
power, but other communities existed, keeping up the sacred
tradition. 22
Mead states that Plato intellectualised it, in order to protect it
from an increasing profanation, and the Eleusinian rites preserved
some of its forms, having lost its substance. The Neo-Platonists
inherited from Pythagoras and Plato, and their works should be
studied by those who would realise something of the grandeur and
the beauty preserved for the world in the Mysteries.The Pythagorean School itself may serve as a type of the
discipline enforced. On this Mead gives many interesting details,
23 and
remarks: "The authors of antiquity are agreed that this discipline
had succeeded in producing the highest examples, not only of the
purest chastity and sentiment, but also a simplicity of manners, a
delicacy, and a taste for serious pursuits which was unparalleled.
This is admitted even by Christian writers." The School had outer
disciples, leading the family and social life, and the above
quotation refers to these. In the inner School were three
degrees—the first of Hearers, who studied for two years in silence,
doing their best to master the teachings; the second degree was of
Mathematici, wherein were taught geometry and music, the nature of
number, form, colour, and sound; the third degree was of Physici,
who mastered cosmogony and metaphysics. This led up to the true
Mysteries. Candidates for the School must be "of an unblemished
reputation and of a contented disposition."The close identity between the methods and aims pursued in
these various Mysteries and those of Yoga in India is patent to the
most superficial observer. It is not, however, necessary to suppose
that the nations of antiquity drew from India; all alike drew from
the one source, the Grand Lodge of Central Asia, which sent out its
Initiates to every land. They all taught the same doctrines, and
pursued the same methods, leading to the same ends. But there was
much intercommunication between the Initiates of all nations, and
there was a common language and a common symbolism. Thus Pythagoras
journeyed among the Indians, and received in India a high
Initiation, and Apollonius of Tyana later followed in his steps.
Quite Indian in phrase as well as thought were the dying words of
Plotinus: "Now I seek to lead back the Self within me to the
All-self." 24Among the Hindus the duty of teaching the supreme knowledge
only to the worthy was strictly insisted on. "The deepest mystery
of the end of knowledge ... is not to be declared to one who is not
a son or a pupil, and who is not tranquil in mind." 25 So again, after a
sketch of Yoga we read: "Stand up! awake! having found the Great
Ones, listen! The road is as difficult to tread as the sharp edge
of a razor. Thus say the wise." 26 The Teacher is needed, for written
teaching alone does not suffice. The "end of knowledge" is to know
God—not only to believe; to become one with God—not only to worship
afar off. Man must know the reality of the divine Existence, and
then know—not only vaguely believe and hope—that his own innermost
Self is one with God, and that the aim of life is to realise that
unity. Unless religion can guide a man to that realisation, it is
but "as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal." 27So also it was asserted that man should learn to leave the
gross body: "Let a man with firmness separate it [the soul] from
his own body, as a grass-stalk from its sheath." 28 And it was written! "In
the golden highest sheath dwells the stainless, changeless Brahman;
It is the radiant white Light of lights, known to the knowers of
the Self." 29
"When the seer sees the golden-coloured Creator, the Lord, the
Spirit, whose womb is Brahman, then, having thrown away merit and
demerit, stainless, the wise one reaches the highest union."
30Nor were the Hebrews without their secret knowledge and their
Schools of Initiation. The company of prophets at Naioth presided
over by Samuel 31 formed such a School, and the oral
teaching was handed down by them. Similar Schools existed at Bethel
and Jericho, 32 and in Cruden's Concordance
33 there
is the following interesting note: "The Schools or Colleges of the
prophets are the first [schools] of which we have any account in
Scripture; where the children of the prophets, that is, their
disciples, lived in the exercises of a retired and austere life, in
study and meditation, and reading of the law of God.... These
Schools, or Societies, of the prophets were succeeded by the
Synagogues." The Kabbala, which contains the semi-public
teaching, is, as it now stands, a modern compilation, part of it
being the work of Rabbi Moses de Leon, who diedA.D. 1305. It
consists of five books, Bahir, Zohar, Sepher Sephiroth, Sepher
Yetzirah, and Asch Metzareth, and is asserted to have been
transmitted orally from very ancient times—as antiquity is reckoned
historically. Dr. Wynn Westcott says that "Hebrew tradition assigns
the oldest parts of the Zohar to a date antecedent to the building
of the second Temple;" and Rabbi Simeon ben Jochai is said to have
written down some of it in the first century A.D. The Sepher
Yetzirah is spoken of by Saadjah Gaon, who died A.D. 940, as "very
ancient." 34
Some portions of the ancient oral teaching have been incorporated
in the Kabbala as it now stands, but the true archaic
wisdom of the Hebrews remains in the guardianship of a few of the
true sons of Israel.Brief as is this outline, it is sufficient to show the
existence of a hidden side in the religions of the world outside
Christianity, and we may now examine the question whether
Christianity was an exception to this universal rule.
Footnotes;
1 Psalms, xlii. 1.
2 1 Cor. xv. 28
3 Ante-Nicene Library, Vol. XII. Clement of
Alexandria. Stromata, bk. V., ch. xi.
4 See Article on "Mysteries," Encyc.
Britannica ninth edition.
5 Psellus, quoted in Iamblichus on the
Mysteries. T. Taylor, p. 343, note on p. 23, second
edition
6 Iamblichus, as ante, p.
301
7 Ibid., p. 72
8 The article on "Mysticism" in the
Encyclopædia Britannica has the following on the teaching
of Plotinus (204-206 A.D.): "The One [the Supreme God spoken of
above] is exalted above the nous and the 'ideas'; it
transcends existence altogether and is not cognisable by reason.
Remaining itself in repose, it rays out, as it were, from its own
fulness, an image of itself, which is called nous, and
which constitutes the system of ideas of the intelligible world.
The soul is in turn the image or product of the nous, and
the soul by its motion begets corporeal matter. The soul thus faces
two ways—towards the nous, from which it springs, and
towards the material life, which is its own product. Ethical
endeavour consists in the repudiation of the sensible; material
existence is itself estrangement from God.... To reach the ultimate
goal, thought itself must be left behind; for thought is a form of
motion, and the desire of the soul is for the mo [...]