Chapter III: The Teachings (4)

There are some who by Karma's decree have a father or a mother who recognize a little talent for music in the child and let him be taught, and by encouragement promote his musical development. This is like bestowing a priceless treasure on the one so favored, for now he enters upon the realm of one of the mysteries of the Eternal.

Once begun, there is no end. On and on goes the progress, revealing with each step an ever-widening horizon of beauty, love, happiness.

The musician goes inward, ever inward. All is being transformed and remodeled in his soul. The tears are music, the joys are music, the whole world is music; men and women are like harps on which to play; he can sway them from one extreme mood to another; and he?--he really owns the world, never to lose it!

On the other hand there are some who practise on a musical instrument for hours every day. Years roll by, but there seems to be no progress made, at least there is no appreciation of progress at the hands of other persons. Still, the musicians belonging to this class do not seem to be discouraged. They may grow old the while, but never relax in their aspirations. What for? Think you, perhaps, that all this one-pointedness, this expenditure of energy to attain to an ideal, will be lost when the man dies? Not so! Nothing is ever lost. Nature preserves everything. Every single effort leaves its imprint upon the soul in which the result finally inheres. When such a life has come to its end the people may say: "Poor musician! he labored all his lifetime and accomplished nothing!" But see! when a boy suddenly appears who at the age of eight years can play an instrument, surmounting the most difficult technique with great ease, almost as if he had known it before he commenced--what then? We begin to look around for the hereditary connexion; and here we see quite often that neither his parents nor cousins or any relations have or had any trace of such talent.

How comes it then that the prodigy can do this without having to learn it like other people? May it not be that he has really learned it at some time, _in another life_ and stored it away in his soul, and now, he simply manifests most naturally what is his own?

Truly, artists are not made out of nothing. They are made out of all these things that they previously, diligently and persistently, labored for. Every bit of it, every feeling, every emotion, and every touch of the heart, of the head, and of the hand that they now manifest is of their own making, without any miracle or extraneous grace. Thus is Genius for music cultivated.

GLIMPSES OF SCANDINAVIAN MYTHOLOGY: by Per Fernholm, M. E., Royal Institute of Technology (Stockholm)

When the fragments still left of Scandinavian mythology, scattered in the Icelandic sagas and tales, are carefully put together, they give a grand picture of the history of Earth and Man from the first dawn of the present great Day of evolution. Clear and scientific in the broad outlines, they will some day surely prove a gold-mine of useful knowledge for future researches into the past. Nor do they stop with the history of the past and its blending with the present, but go farther and picture the destruction of life as we know it in a purifying fire, and show how a new earth arises from the sea, whereon a new and lasting Golden Age will be enjoyed by Gods and men.

When Earth had assumed its shape and was ready to receive living beings, the Creative Wisdom permeated the elements and in the ensuing fermentation the cow Audumla appeared. Licking the salt rocks she liberated from the life-germs of the various elements a great and beautiful being endowed with a divine spirit. He became the father of the Gods who rule and protect the world of Man in this cycle.

Drops of venom from the Fount of Frost grew to another being, the giant Ymer, who nourished by Audumla's milk brought into being various giants, some good, but many evil and horrible. Among the good are the wise Mimer, the guardian of the Fount of Wisdom at one of the three roots of the world-tree, Yggdrasil; and the three Norns, Urd, Verdande and Skuld--Urd, the Norn of the Present, being the guardian of the Fount of Life at another of Yggdrasil's roots.

Odin knew his mighty task as chief ruler of human life in this cycle. But he was not yet perfect and felt himself lacking in strength; therefore he went to Mimer to drink from the Fount of Wisdom. None, not even the Gods, can, however, win this precious drink without proving his worthiness, and here at the very outset we meet with the great example of self-sacrifice. Odin gave up himself to his greater Self, remained for "nine days and nights" in Yggdrasil without food or drink, looking inward to the roots of things, listening to the mystic song out of the depth. Purified and prepared, he was allowed to drink from the water of Wisdom and learned from Mimer nine wonderful and potent songs. And Odin grew henceforth rapidly in knowledge and creative power.

Presiding over the Gods and the various hierarchies in Nature he then began to make Earth a fitting habitation for man. That done, Odin visited Midgard with his two brothers, Höner and Lodur, and there on the shore they found two trees, "powerless and without destiny." Lodur loosened them from their connexion with earth, giving them power to move and act from inner impulses, and made them images of the Gods; Höner endowed them with a human Ego, having consciousness and will; and finally Odin gave them the most precious gift, the spirit.

In the childhood of the Earth men long lived in a golden age of unbroken peace, knowing of no evil. But there came a time when two beings among the giants, both adopted by the Gods as members of the Asgard family, appeared among men tempting them to evil things, the man Loke, and the woman Gullveig (the golden way, or stream), Gullveig being the worse. To strengthen the good in human hearts, enlighten them and prepare them for coming days of strife, the Gods sent to Midgard as Teacher Heimdall, the Shining One, the God of the pure and most sacred fire. He brought with him many things not before seen in Midgard, and as the ruler of the people he instructed them in cultivating the soil, in sowing the seed he had brought, and in preparing bread; in carving and forging, spinning and weaving, cutting runes and reading. He taught them how to tame animals for domestic use, to build houses and to form families and communities; also the use of weapons in protection against animals. And further he informed them of the rules laid down by the Norns for a righteous life, and of the names and functions of the Gods. He showed them how to build altars and temples for worship, and brought to them the pure and undefiled fire produced by friction, the only one worthy of burning in the shrine of the Gods; and then he taught them the sacred songs that ever since have sounded from the lips of men in praise of divine powers.

But even now Gullveig began her wanderings among men and secretly taught them runes and songs which counteracted Heimdall's teachings. When the Gods became aware of this, they had her burned; but her heart was proof against fire. Loke found it, and swallowing it he brought into the world the monster-wolf Fenris, which feeds on all the evil thoughts and feelings among men.

Gullveig soon incarnated again and continued her ways unrecognized for a long period. When discovered she was burned a second time, Loke again finding her heart and giving life to the giantess of pestilence, Leikin. The same thing happened a third time, and then was born the Midgard-Snake, destined to grow rapidly and finally to encircle the whole earth.

While Gullveig spread ruin in human life, Loke caused enmity and strife among the powers of nature and even among the Gods. Many were the resulting wars in Asgard, besides the constant warfare against the giants; and always they were followed by wars in Midgard. At last the Gods were divided to such a degree that Odin, rather than cause the death of many of his nearest kin, left Asgard and the guidance of humanity in the care of the Vaner Gods, who otherwise presided over the regular course of the processes of Nature. When the giants learned this they thought it a fit time to gain supremacy not only over Midgard but even over Asgard itself. Odin knew this in good time, through his power of prevision, and he issued from his retreat "far in the East" to warn the Vaner Gods and offer them assistance. The fearful resulting war united the Gods once more, after which Odin was freely offered the high seat in Asgard, where, purified and perfected by experience and adversity he now rules with wisdom until the last day of the cycle.

Heimdall "died" in Midgard before the golden age was over, and he was followed by his son Sköld-Borgar. His son, Halfdan, became the first king, and led the people in all the battles that followed in the new age, while constantly overshadowed by the Gods. On the other side the chief was Od-Svipdag, a most heroic and valiant champion. War after war raged, one of them being so frightful that a new generation had to grow up before new armies could be collected.

Svipdag is a most remarkable character, who journeys to the Underworld and obtains the "avenging sword" which nothing can resist, not even the hammer of Thor. The fate of the world seems to depend on his mind, when at the critical moment his love for the Goddess Fröja turns his steps to Asgard, in order to make peace with the Gods. He then lives mostly in Asgard with Fröja and is sent by the Gods on many difficult journeys, even to the Underworld to find whether Balder, the God of purity, who had died when strife came into the world, could not return from his safe retreat near the Fount of Wisdom.

The great Ice period is described as coming in Halfdan's days, the people being obliged to leave the Northern countries for more southern climes. But when the ice at last receded they went back step by step northward, fighting continual battles. Halfdan at last dies by Svipdag's sword, and is followed by his brave son, Hadding. And thus we reach the present age, which is depicted as one of supreme darkness. Seldom nowadays the Gods appear before men, for they are few who by a righteous and sincere life keep the link unbroken with the regions in the crown of Yggdrasil. The evil is increasing all the time; men have forgotten their divine birth, and they prostitute their divine powers. Yet above the veil of darkness the Gods rule as ever, helping wherever there is an opportunity; while elves and dwarfs and all the other nature sprites continue to fulfil their duties in the economy of nature, although no longer seen by men.

Much is said about the process of death. Man is made up of six principles, and death is a purification whereby the higher and purer elements, after passing through the second death, go to the bliss of the presence of the Gods. If man in life has developed his "inner body" by noble living, then he passes easily through the trials and the judgment of the Gods. If not, then he is held down by the demons of passion and lust and meets torture and suffering.

Of Reincarnation there is little in the form of direct statement, probably partly because carefully removed in Christian times, and partly because it forms an integral part of the whole conception of life found in all ancient sagas. Some of the heroes are, however, named in more than one incarnation, showing the same soul in different garments. The noblest and the worst reincarnate almost immediately; for others some time has first to elapse.

In the efflorescence of time the hour will at length arrive for Ragnarök, the great purifying battle and fire, when evil will be destroyed in the final war between good and evil. The Gods assemble with their faithful, Odin leading, majestic, calm and wiser than ever, knowing that he and most of the Gods will have to buy the victory with their lives. The different groups on both sides are pictured with matchless boldness and vividness, and we see how each has to meet his fate. Odin is killed by the Fenris Wolf; Thor kills the Midgard Snake, but falls dead from its venom. The giants who have possessed themselves of the "avenging sword" use it in the battle, but at the same moment their fate is sealed. For this sword was so forged that if swung by a giant it would destroy the giant world.

At the close of the fearful battle the very foundations of the earth seem to tremble. Fires rise towards heaven, and amid flame and smoke and destruction--the Gods still living--Odin's sons Vidar and Vale, and Thor's sons Magne and Mode, ride to the Underworld, to Balder's peaceful land, where neither death nor destruction are.

And the old earth finally sinks into the sea, dissolved into slag and ashes. The flames die. The air is purified by the fire, the sky is bluer than ever. From the sea arises a new earth, covered with luxuriant vegetation. It is the regions of the Underworld near the Founts of Wisdom and Life, the lands of Mimer and Urd, that now appear. Those founts, so long nearly dry, again flow copiously, and Yggdrasil is fresh and green. The days of golden life return to Gods and men. Balder assumes full sway, and the new earth is peopled from the two races who have been spared for that purpose, living in purity unstained along with Balder during the age of darkness. Even animals have been spared in the same way and enjoy the new Day. It is the happy Day of Balder the Pure and Righteous.

But even this is not the final scene, according to the Northern mythology. A mightier Being than even Balder will come after him, descending upon a still higher and more purified earth. It is the unnamed God whose servant Urd is, One whose spirit blendeth with all living things by virtue of the Fount of Wisdom--an omnipotent God, a God bringing highest peace, who will then "establish a worship that will endure forevermore."

THE DIPYLON AND THE OUTER CERAMICUS: by F. S. Darrow, A. M., Ph. D. (Harv.)

The Dipylon or "Double Gate" (so named because it consisted of an inner and an outer gateway, separated by a court), was the principal entrance of classical Athens at the west end of the city. Probably, it was built under Perikles' directions on the site of the still older Thriasian Gate, but the extant remains which are shown in the accompanying illustration belong to a somewhat later alteration. The gateway itself, because of its size and position (it was at the lowest point of the city walls) was surrounded by massive fortifications. The inner wall with the upright stone, marking one of the boundaries of the Outer Ceramicus or ancient Potters' quarters just outside the city, was built by Themistokles, but the outer wall shown in the illustration was probably added by Perikles. About sixty yards to the west of the Dipylon, that is to the right of the illustration, is a smaller gateway, which is thought to be the Sacred Gate, used for the exit and entrance of the Procession of Mystics during the celebration of the Eleusinian Mysteries.

In ancient times three roads lined with tombs led from the Dipylon, namely, the Road to the Academy, the Sacred Way leading to Eleusis, and the Road to the harbor, the Peiraeeus. Along the Road leading to the Academy were buried those who had died fighting for their country on land and on sea. The public burials were made at the end of each campaign, when the bones of the slain were placed in coffins of cypress wood, one coffin for each of the ten Athenian tribes, and an empty one, serving symbolically for the burial of those whose bodies could not be recovered. Citizens and strangers alike were permitted to join in the procession, and as the coffins were lowered, a speaker publicly appointed ascended a lofty pulpit and delivered an oration in honor of the dead.

Thukydides says:

The public cemetery is situated in the most beautiful spot outside the walls and there the Athenians always bury those who fall in war; but after the battle of Marathon the dead in recognition of their pre-eminent valor were interred on the field.

It was here in the winter of 431 B. C., while delivering his immortal funeral oration that Perikles declared:

It is difficult to say neither too little nor too much. I do not commiserate the parents of the dead: I would rather comfort them. Those men may be deemed fortunate who have gained the greatest honor. To you who are sons and brothers of the departed I see that the struggle to emulate them will be an arduous one. The dead have been honorably interred and it remains only that their children should be maintained at the public charge until they are grown up; this is the solid prize with which, as with a garland, Athens crowns her sons, living and dead.

The tombs of many of the most famous figures in Greek history were in this public cemetery, including those of Harmodios and Aristogeiton, the Tyrannicides; Kleisthenes, the Law-giver; Perikles, the greatest Athenian Statesman; Thrasybulos, the Liberator, who overthrew the Thirty Tyrants; Chabrias; Phormio; Konon and Timotheus, father and son, "second only to Miltiades and Kimon for their brilliant feats"; and Lykurgos, the son of Lykophron, the Athenian orator and statesman, who finished the Dionysiac Theater in stone and built the Docks at the Peiraeeus.

The public tombs which once lined the Road to the Academy seem to have been almost entirely destroyed, but many of the private tombs along the Sacred Way may still be seen _in situ_. Some of these, which have been well preserved (thanks to the fact that they were covered by a huge mound in 86 B. C. when the Roman Cornelius Sulla was besieging Athens), are shown in the second illustration.

THE THEOSOPHIC TORCH: by Grace Knoche

O the great benefactor who points the Way! To Triptolemus have all men erected temples and altars, because he gave us food by cultivation; but to him who discovered truth, and brought it to light and communicated it to all--not the truth which shows us how to live _but how to live well_--who of you has built an altar for this, or a temple, or has dedicated a statue, or who worships God for this?--_Epictetus_

The final stitches are taken in the little garment which has stood for the evening's duty. It is folded and laid aside, to fill on the morrow a need as impersonal as the service that need inspired, silent tribute to a system of work so practical and so perfect in its conservation of energy that the world is already clamoring at Lomaland gates to be let into the secret. A pile of loved books--very tiny ones, _The Voice of the Silence_, the _Bhagavad-Gitâ_, _Patañjali_, and the rest--lies beside the sewing-basket, jostling the newspaper, which, because of the temporary need of another, at present has to be given room. But I brush it aside to take up one of the little writings--any one of them, from cover to cover, would hardly make up a newspaper page--thankful that if the frothy and distempered bilge-water of current crime and gossip _does_ have to lie before me, I do not have to drink of it; grateful that even in the present heyday of lower psychological influences I am free to drink what I will, free to pick my associates from among the immortals--if I choose. And so we parry, and give and take, question on my part and answer on his--small wonder that H. P. B. paid tribute to his philosophy and W. Q. J. to his life, this grand old Roman whose company for an hour any one would be proud to have--Epictetus!

O the great benefactor who points the Way!

This, a tribute to the Helpers of Humanity by one who was humbly, yet with the courage of Hercules, trying to fire the mind of his age with the torch-gleam of a true philosophy of life--Theosophy in fact, but adapted to the conditions of his time, a fevered and cruel time, though with gleams of nobility and spiritual splendor here and there.

What a picture comes before one of this brave old Roman Socrates, banished in his last years from Rome by the Emperor Domitian--for the crime of being a philosopher! And then another picture--of the Epictetus as the Rome of Nero knew him, young but never strong, weakly, lame, the abused slave of Nero's profligate secretary; allowed by his owner to study philosophy because it chanced to be the fashion in wealthy Rome to number wise men among one's "possessions" as one numbered cocks and fine horses; Epictetus, a slave, often in chains, tortured at his master's whim--but a Torch-bearer of the Truth!

Although a disciple of Rufus, the great Stoic teacher of the time, Epictetus himself claiming no superiority to his teacher whom he lovingly quotes, the conviction forces itself upon one that the latter bathed in a wider ocean of truth than that of Stoicism as a doctrine. He quotes Socrates, Plato, Diogenes, far more than Zeno; he had no part in the tolerance of many Stoics to the idea of suicide. And we hear him down the ages fulminating against the Academics, the Epicureans, the Skeptics; declaring the Godhood, the Divinity, of man; immortality, the higher law, man's obligation to study human nature _in its duality_; Karma, the power of the Spiritual Will, the royal road to happiness; and man's obligation to integrity, fidelity, compassion, reverence, gratitude, trust, love, wisdom and a noble use of power. What was he banished for? what is it that he said?

If Caesar should adopt you, no one could endure your arrogance; to know, then, that you are the son of Zeus--will you not be elated?... You are a superior thing; you are a portion separated from the Deity; you have in yourself a certain portion of Him. Why then are you ignorant of your own noble descent? When you are in social intercourse, when you are exercising yourself, when you are engaged in discussion, _know you not that you are nourishing a god, that you are exercising a god_?

But give me directions, you say. Why should I give you directions? Has not Zeus given you directions? What directions, what kind of orders, did you bring _when you came from Him_? To keep what is your own; not to desire what is not your own. Fidelity is your own, and integrity, and modesty and virtue; for who can take these things from you? who, excepting yourself, can hinder you from using them? Having such promptings and commands from Zeus, what kind do you still ask from me? Am I more powerful than he, am I more worthy of confidence?

If you would make anything a habit, do it; if you would not make it a habit, do not do it.... So with respect to the soul: when you have been angry you must know that not only has this evil befallen you, but that you have also increased the habit, and in a manner increased the habit thrown fuel on the fire.... For he who has had a fever, and has been relieved from it, is not in the same state that he was before, unless he has been completely cured. _Something of the kind happens also in diseases of the soul. Certain traces and blisters are left in it, and unless a man shall completely efface them, when he is again lashed in the same places, the lash will produce not welts but sores._

It is circumstances (difficulties) which show what men are. Therefore, when a difficulty falls upon you, remember that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has matched you with a rough young man. For what purpose? you may say. Why, that you may become an Olympic conqueror; _but it is not accomplished without sweat_.... Hercules, when he was being exercised by Eurytheus, never deemed himself wretched; but fulfilled courageously all that was laid upon him. But he who shall cry out and bear it hard when he is being exercised by Zeus, is he worthy to bear the scepter of Diogenes?

The philosopher's school, ye men, is a surgery; you ought not to go out of it with pleasure but with pain, for you are not in sound health when you enter: one has dislocated his shoulder, another has an abscess ... another a headache. And shall I sit and utter to you little thoughts and exclamations, that you may praise me and go away, one with his shoulder in the same condition as when he entered, another with his head still aching, and a third with his fistula or his abscess just as they were? Is it for this that young men quit home and leave their parents and friends, their kinsmen and property, that they may say to you, Wonderful! when you are uttering your exclamations? Did Socrates do this, or Zeno, or Cleanthes?

Diogenes well said to one who asked from him letters of recommendation, "That you are a man he will know as soon as he sees you; and he will know whether you are good or bad if he has, through experience, the skill to distinguish the good and the bad; but if he has not, he would not know though I were to write him ten thousand times." For it is just the same as if a drachma asked to be recommended to a person. If he is skilful in testing silver, he will know you (the drachma) for what you are. We ought then in life to be able to have some such skill as in the case of silver coin, that we may be able to say, like the judge of silver, Bring me any drachma and I will test it.

When Florus was deliberating whether he should go down to Nero's spectacles, and also perform in them, he asked Agrippinus for advice, and Agrippinus said, Go down. But why do you not go down? said Florus; and Agrippinus replied, I do not even deliberate about the matter; _for he who has brought himself to calculate the value of external things, is very near to those who have forgotten their own character_.

But if I do not take part, I shall have my head struck off. Go then, said Agrippinus, and take part; but I will not. Why? Because you consider yourself to be only one common thread in the tunic; it is then fitting for you to take thought how you shall be like the rest of men. But I wish to be purple, that small part which is bright, _and makes all the rest appear graceful and beautiful_.

Katherine Tingley said recently in one of her intimate talks on the subject of the individual responsibility of students in being given the opportunity to bring a deeper than the common touch into the production of _The Aroma of Athens_:

We are just now at a strange point in the cycle and in many ways are linking ourselves with the past.

May not one evidence of this be an easier recognition of the Theosophic Light that has been passed from hand to hand down the ages? Many have been its disguises, many and strange the lamps holding it, often obscured it has been, again nameless--but ever the one Light, the one Flame, shining upon and enlightening all men.

THE PYTHAGOREAN SOLIDS:

by F. J. Dick, M. INST. C. E., M. INST. C. E. I.

Students of _The Secret Doctrine_ and of ancient teachings such as those of Pythagoras, the Kabala, and the sacred books of different races and epochs, are often puzzled by the frequent references to Number, and to elementary plane forms like the circle, triangle, and square. It may be surmised that these symbols refer to _meta_-physical forces of various orders concealed within the "atom" and within nature generally. For nature is built, obviously enough, upon some internal principles of structural harmony. Without discussing the many avenues of thought suggested by a study of the five regular solids, the main features of these forms may be briefly summarized.

In the first place, they may be all considered as generated by Twelve Points on the surface of the Sphere, at equal adjacent distances, or by six diameters of the sphere mutually inclined at angles whose tangent is 2, the number of the octave in music. Joining each of the twelve with every other point, we have 66 lines, of which 36 are internal. Six of the latter being diameters, there remain 30, intersecting at 20 points, which give the 30 edges of the internal DODECAHEDRON. The 30 outer, or external lines of the 66, form the edges of the ICOSAHEDRON.

Joining one set of alternate corners of the Dodecahedron by 12 lines, a CUBE appears. So far, there are 33 points defined, including the center of the sphere. Joining opposite corners on each Cube-face by 12 lines, _two_ interlaced TETRAHEDRONS appear. These define, by their intersection, 6 new points and 12 new lines forming the OCTAHEDRON, beautifully poised in the heart of the Sphere.

Thus only 39 points, including the central point, are needed to define the Pythagorean solids, only one solid form being repeated, the Tetrahedron, which in fact is seen to repeat itself ten times. For between the interlaced Tetrahedron corners and the eight faces of the included Octahedron, eight smaller Tetrahedrons are seen.

The interlaced Tetrahedrons suggest the origin of the plane symbol--the interlaced triangles; but the full beauty of the symbol does not appear until we notice that the axis of symmetry of the Tetrahedrons coincides with the diagonal of the Cube, and that the orthographic projection of all these on a plane perpendicular to the diagonal gives a perfect hexagon with the interlaced triangles in the center. The interlaced Tetrahedrons--one a reflection of the other--in fact define the eight corners of the Cube. The Tetrahedron is "3," and the Cube is "4" (or 6). So we see one way in which the "three fall into the four," and why it is a septenary, and a decad, as well as a three, or a four, according to the various aspects and interrelations considered of the electric, rotary, magnetic, or vibratory forces symbolized by the various lines.

Science has already reached the speculation that the hypothetical carbon "atom" has a tetrahedronal form. Let us look at this Tetrahedron with the eye opposite the middle of an edge and in line with the center. The two opposite edges now form the Cross, composed of two equal lines, but separated by a space. One is reminded of an electric wire, and a magnetized needle placing itself at right angles to, although at some distance from, the current in the wire. Thus the opposite edges, whether as rotational vectors or in some other way, indicate a connexion with the dual forces of attraction and repulsion. The Tetrahedron, a triangular pyramid, may be a Fire-symbol. In any case the following passage is suggestive:

When the molecules of salt, clustering together, begin to deposit themselves as a solid, the first shape they assume is that of triangles, of small pyramids and cones. It is the figure of _fire_, whence the word "_pyramids_"; while the second geometrical figure in _manifested_ nature is a square or a cube, 4 and 6; for, "the particles of earth being cubical, those of fire are pyramidal" truly--(Enfield). The pyramidal shape is that assumed by the pines--the most primitive tree after the fern period. Thus the two opposites in cosmic nature--fire and water, heat and cold--begin their metrographical manifestations, one by a trimetric, the other by a hexagonal system. For the stellate crystals of snow, viewed under a microscope, are all and each of them a double or treble six-pointed star, with a central nucleus, like a miniature star within the larger one. (_The Secret Doctrine_, II, 594.)

The number Five penetrates the whole system of the Five solids in a remarkable way. Thus there are 24 pentagons visible, and by joining other corners of the Dodecahedron, Five Cubes are seen, which of course produce Five Octahedrons, and twice that number of principal interlaced Tetrahedrons. Five has been said to be the Number of Life.

Confining ourselves to one rectangular system, we find Four axes of symmetry for the Tetrahedrons and Three for Cube and Octahedron. Thus there are really 73 principal lines in the complete system defined by the 39 points. A study of the three principal orthographic projections shows that the circle should be divided into 3, 4, 5, 6, parts, and the products of these, or 360 degrees. Certain angles are found in abundance, such as 36, 60, 72, 90, 108, 144; and their combinations and products by 10 and 12, and their multiples, give figures bearing a strong resemblance to the various cyclic periods of eastern chronology. Periodic orbits are vibrations on a large scale.

Twice the perimeter of an Icosahedron-face divided by the perimeter of a Dodecahedron-face is 3.1416, the value of π used in all ordinary scientific and constructional work.

The actual error is so small that if both were accurately made of copper at the same temperature, the Icosahedron-face would only have to be brought rather more than one degree Fahrenheit below the temperature of the other for the π value to be absolutely correct. Accuracy of this sort is unattainable outside of specially equipped laboratories. So the Pythagorean solids may be said to "square the circle."

THE "BLACK AGE": by Ariomardes

Let us imagine a romance, such as most people must have heard, wherein some royal child is stolen away and reared amidst peasants in ignorance of his birth; and where some wise man comes and reveals to the youth the secret of his parentage. The young man forthwith steps out from his lowly life, and clothed in a new self-respect, begins to acquit himself worthily of his origin and destiny.

Thus has Theosophy declared to outcast humanity, "Thou art the king's son"; and in proof it has referred him to his ancestry. This is why H. P. Blavatsky, pointing out in the skein of history certain clues which scholars have hitherto overlooked, started that greater enthusiasm for archaeology which since her day has already borne such wonderful fruit.

In a dark age there is the danger that man might forget his divine origin altogether. The revelations of archaeology confirm the teachings of Theosophy that before the dark age of our historical period set in, there were brighter ages; and by showing what man has been, they are indicating what he may again be in the future.

The epochs and durations of the various ages are not uniform all over the earth, so that it cannot be said that the black age began, for the earth generally, at any definite time. The ancient Hindûs have their own chronology, showing the dates of the different ages for their race. We find in a very ancient work, the _Vishnu-Purâna_, a prophecy of the characteristics of Kali-Yuga or the "Black Age," from which the following extracts are taken:

Then property alone will confer rank; wealth will be the only source of devotion; passion will be the sole bond of union between the sexes; falsehood will be the only means of success in litigation; and women will be objects merely of sensual gratification. Earth will be venerated but for its mineral treasures; the Brahmânical thread will constitute a Brâhman; external types (as the staff and red garb) will be the only distinctions of the several orders of life; dishonesty will be the (universal) means of subsistence; weakness will be the cause of dependence; menace and presumption will be substituted for learning; liberality will be devotion; simple ablution will be purification; mutual assent will be marriage; fine clothes will be dignity.... Amidst all castes, he who is the strongest will reign over a principality thus vitiated by many faults.--iv, ch. xxiv. (From H. H. Wilson's translation, vol. iv, pp. 226-228.)

Some of these details may be thought to apply more to the East, some to the West; we can surely recognize many of the characteristics of our own civilization. What is particularly striking is the way in which things which we regard as inevitable qualities of human nature are here spoken of with horror and classed among the iniquities. And there are signs in our contemporary literature that some of the standard human frailties are now being exalted into virtues. One of the signs of decadence mentioned is the fact that passion will be regarded as the sole bond of union between the sexes. And we have philosophers who would persuade us that passion is and always has been and always will be the bond of union! For some writers, passion, even in its most material form, is the origin and supreme fact of all union. Here, then, is the danger--that having allowed our ideals to drag down our practices, we afterwards suffer our practices to drag down our ideals, thus descending by a continuous and periodical process of leveling down.

It seems as if the saying that "property alone will confer rank" has some meaning for us today, as also the phrase "wealth will be the only source of devotion." What is said about falsehood in litigation reflects no discredit on our jurisprudence, but surely it describes much of what occurs in practice. That about the mineral treasures of earth is very true; for we consider people simpletons when they fail to tear out the bowels of their homeland in order to coin them into "the only source of devotion." When the ancient scribe says that dishonesty will be the means of subsistence, he may seem to be going too far; but what does he mean by dishonesty? If it includes every form of insincerity and injustice, the statement may not be too extreme after all. The question, "Shall I do as the others do or let my family starve?" becomes every day more difficult to answer.

"Menace and presumption will be substituted for learning." This may allude to the fact that most people argue for the purpose of pushing their own ideas, losing their temper and resorting to tricks in order to attain this end; and that the attainment of knowledge is so often subordinated to the desire to compel assent or gain notoriety. "Liberality will be devotion," may be better understood if we substitute the word "munificence," as applying to large donations to churches and also to the prevalence of the charity of the purse rather than the charity of the heart.

A difficult subject to speak upon, in view of the mental chaos reigning today, is the hint that there can be higher motives for marriage than mere mutual attraction or worldly convenience. The quotation gives a rebuke to those who, seeing no farther back than the Black Age, argue that there never have been any higher ideals of marriage. We may point to the ancient Egyptian religion as an instance of a culture that is free from the erotic element; while in the quotation given above the erotic idea is expressly condemned. Clearly, then, that idea belongs to the age of decadence. The word "love" having now become practically useless from its association with passion, we must seek our clue to the real meaning of marriage in the word "duty." Regarded as a sacred rite involving vows of unselfishness and self-restraint, undertaken only in sober earnestness and with a vision undimmed by the colored mists of selfish romance, marriage might take its place among the blessings instead of among the problems of life.

In days when philosophicules try to define honor in terms of vanity, and devotion in terms of self-interest, it is beneficial to receive from antiquity a hint that may help us to understand that honor and devotion are the breath of the Soul. Pretended reformers, claiming a superior acumen and to be quite grown-up and out of leading-strings, may dissect before us the animal nature of man, pointing out its sordid details and requesting us to believe that these represent our entire endowment. Some prominent writers, whose outlook upon life has somehow suffered from unfortunate circumstances, would have us accept depravity and neurotic conditions as inevitable concomitants of human nature; and, profanely invoking Freedom, they recommend open license as a means of purity! Signs like these justify one in thinking that the Black Age is casting the shadow of its pinions over the firmament of modern thought; and we are grateful for the smallest hint of the possibility of an age free from the all-absorbing morbidity and itching self-consciousness that seem to dominate every department of inquiry.

Will society ever again be so constituted that honor and reverence and duty shall be a universal atmosphere, a currency in which all share, a life-force that flows from man to man, a common possession in the maintenance of whose integrity all are involved--as we are now all involved in the maintenance of commercial credit and the upkeep of standards of outer respectability? Can we imagine a society wherein no man would dare to sully the purity of this inner atmosphere by any unworthy thought? If so, then we might call honor and morality real existences instead of mere abstractions; these words might then convey the genuine qualities they were meant to denote, instead of the spurious imitations which they now seem to stand for in the minds of those who try to express them in terms of selfishness and passion. It is well to think that such things have been upon earth; and it is easier thus to account for some of the deeds of antiquity whose signs remain. It is easier to see in religion the faint echo of a former knowledge and conduct, than to interpret it as an outgrowth of fear and charlatanry. We need a greater faith in human nature.

EGYPTIAN ART UNDER THE XXVIth DYNASTY: by C. J.

The statue of Neshoron, of which we give an illustration, is a very fine example of the work of the XXVIth Dynasty (B. C. 666 to 528). This was a period of great prosperity for Egypt, after long years of depression. Rawlinson says:

The entire valley of the Nile became little more than one huge workshop, where stone-cutters and masons, bricklayers and carpenters, labored incessantly. Under the liberal encouragement of the king and his chief nobles, the arts recovered themselves and began to flourish anew. The engraving and painting of the hieroglyphs were resumed with success, and carried out with a minuteness and accuracy that provoke the admiration of the beholder. Bas-reliefs of extreme beauty and elaboration characterize the period. There rests upon some of them "a gentle and almost feminine tenderness, which has impressed upon the imitations of living creatures the stamp of an incredible delicacy both of conception and execution." Statues and statuettes of merit were at the same time produced in abundance.

Under King Psametik I, the first king of the XXVIth Dynasty, a semi-Libyan devoid of Egyptian prejudices, foreigners, especially Greeks, were encouraged to settle in the Delta and to establish commercial relations on a large scale--a hitherto unheard-of innovation. The effect of this was a great change in the character of the Egyptians, perhaps not for the better. A mercenary army was enlisted, and the beginning of Egypt's downfall and subjugation drew nigh. In the reign of Apries (Uah-ab-Rā, the "Pharaoh Hophra" of Jeremiah xliv, 30) an unsuccessful attempt was made to restore the greatness of the ancient Egyptian empire. Apries, or Hophra, finding the Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon was unable to reduce Phoenicia to subjection, concluded a treaty with Zedekiah, king of Judah, in B. C. 588, promising him assistance if he would help him to attack the Babylonians. The war that followed resulted in the capture and destruction of Jerusalem, and the transfer of the Jews to Babylon. Apries failed to protect Zedekiah, though he appears to have done his best. He retreated before the victorious Babylonians, and with the fall of Palestine, the two great powers of Babylon and Egypt became conterminous. Within a few years Nebuchadnezzar had conquered Egypt, making it a tributary kingdom.

The statue of Neshoron is remarkable for the realism shown in the treatment of the face, which is obviously an excellent portrait. The feet are also treated in a naturalistic manner, but the rest of the figure is more conventional in accordance with the prevailing custom.

THE HOUSE OF LORDS, PALACE OF WESTMINSTER, LONDON: by R.

Though such an important chamber, the House of Lords is only forty-five feet wide, forty-five feet high, and ninety feet long, yet it is very well adapted to its purpose. There is none of the crowding from which the House of Commons suffers when all the members wish to be present at some important debate. Like the rest of the Palace of Westminster, the House of Lords is built in the Tudor-Gothic style, but it does not date back to the fifteenth century. The old House of Parliament, a patched-up and unimposing building, was almost completely destroyed in 1835--an important service to architecture being rendered thereby--and the new one was commenced upon the same site in 1840. It took twenty-seven years to build and it is generally admitted, in spite of many weaknesses, to be a worthy home for "the Mother of Parliaments," and the most impressive modern Gothic building in Europe. One important though indirect result of the fire which burned down the old Parliament House was that public competition, almost unknown in England, was adopted as the safest way to obtain a good design. Sir Charles Barry, the architect, was greatly helped by the famous Pugin in the superintendence of the detail, which, as can be seen in the plate, is well-designed and executed, _for modern work_. Of course no modern imitation-Gothic possesses the life and vigor of the old; there is a mechanical feeling about it which can never be avoided in some degree; there is want of spontaneity, a rigidity and formal correctness, which is entirely absent in the old work. The House of Peers and the King's Apartments occupy the western portion of the palace; the House of Commons the eastern.

Being so new, there are few important historical associations connected with the House of Lords, and in recent times the most thrilling scenes in parliamentary life have taken place in the other House, where the expression of the emotions has always been allowed freer play, and where the Government of the day has to meet its strongest opponents in debate, but a very impressive ceremony takes place when the Sovereign in person opens Parliament. He then takes his seat on the throne, which can be seen in the plate, and reads his speech from it before a brilliant audience. The British monarchy being a constitutional one, this speech is, of course, really an outline of the policy of the Ministry in office, and it usually says very little.

The composition of the members of the House of Lords consists of Lords spiritual (Bishops), and Lords temporal. The latter include the five dignities of Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, and Baron. No new dignity has been created since the time of Henry VI, when the rank of viscount was established. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth there were only fifty-nine temporal peers, but the present number is about ten times as many. The principle under which a peer holds his seat is in the main the hereditary one, but there are a few peerages which are bestowed for life only. The peers who are judges, sitting as a judicial tribunal, constitute the Supreme Court of British Law, and the presiding peer of the whole House, the Lord Chancellor, is a lawyer, and always belongs to the party of the government in power. The Lord Chancellor's seat is known as the Woolsack; this peculiar term comes from a period in Elizabeth's reign when wool was the staple industry of England and its export was forbidden; sacks of wool were kept in the Chamber of Peers to remind them of its importance.

MUSIC NOTES: by Charles J. Ryan

Richard Wagner's autobiography, just published to the world at large, though it does not include the last twenty years of his life when he had attained success, has made a great stir among all who are interested in the study of human nature. It is an amazing self-revelation, and, from the Theosophical standpoint, a striking example of the duality of man. The popular conception of Wagner is amply confirmed by this "human document." But why should we waste our time, and perhaps feed our own sense of self-righteousness injudiciously, by dwelling on the failings of genius? Have not the great men given us, in their immortal works, that which is really worthiest of remembrance? Whatever his personal shortcomings were, Wagner never failed in his loyal devotion to his ideal in music-drama; he dared everything and suffered greatly in his protracted efforts to lead the incredulous world to listen to his novel and glorious revolutionary forms, which he knew to be superior to those of his time. The soul behind stands out in his immortal music, high above the limitations of his personality, for there was that in him which had listened to the music of the spheres and which lived serenely apart from the jar and jangle of the petty life. That it is possible for an inspired Soul in touch with the Realities to force its way through all kinds of difficulties, even the greatest--the incarnation in a hindering personality--and to deliver its message of living beauty to men, seems to be the principal lesson this ill-advised autobiography teaches. It would have been better perhaps that it had never seen the light, for there are not many who have the understanding of the complex nature of man, the higher and the lower, which alone can interpret so unusual a character.

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THE SPIRIT of revolution was in the air of Europe when Wagner was meditating upon the imperfections of the grand opera of his youth. He says, "The spirit of revolution took possession of me once forever." In 1842 _The Flying Dutchman_ was brought out in Dresden, and in 1845 _Tannhäuser_ appeared and set all musical Europe by the ears. For the rest of his life, till 1882, Wagner was at war with his fellow musicians and critics. His keen perception of natural beauty and artistic fitness is shown in the following passage from his _Life_:

One solitary flash of brightness was afforded by our view of the Wartburg, which we passed during the only sunlit hour of this journey. The sight of this mountain fastness, which from the Fulda side is clearly visible for a long time, affected me deeply. A neighboring ridge further on I at once christened the Hörselberg, and as I drove through the valley pictured to myself the scenery for the third act of my _Tannhäuser_. The scene remained so vividly in my mind that long afterwards I was able to give Despléchin, the Parisian scene painter, exact details when he was working out the scenery under my directions.

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THE DEATH of Felix Mottl came as a sudden blow to all music lovers. It was known for a little while that the great Viennese conductor was in bad health, but not that he was dangerously ill. He was only fifty-five. His reputation was made at an early age; in 1885 he was conducting _Tristan_ at Baireuth. Mottl was virtually the last of the great conductors who had received the true Wagnerian tradition by personal contact with the great composer. He was also distinguished among German conductors of his time by his liking and understanding of French music, and for the success with which he conducted French music before the most discriminating Parisian audiences. He was well known in New York; where his conducting of the Nibelungen Ring series made a profound impression. His remains were cremated. At his funeral in Munich no clergy were present, but Richard Strauss gave an eloquent address.

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