Chapter III: The Teachings (12)

The remedy lies in educating the people to a better understanding of the laws of life. Till then, there will be nobody competent to devise or apply any methods of eugenics. In short, before we can treat the young properly we must educate the old. The work of the Universal Brotherhood and Theosophical Society, in its Râja Yoga Schools at Point Loma gives illustrations of what can be done by the proper upbringing of children; and here we escape from the weary desert of schemes and theories to a fertile land of produce. Here we have a _result_; the problem has been solved as an ancient sage solved the problem of motion--_solvitur ambulando_. This is one of Theosophy's _practical_ answers to one of the questionings of today.

THE PLIGHT OF THE VIVISECTOR: by H. Coryn, M. D., M. R. C. S.

It is very well worth while to work out on Theosophical principles the plight of the vivisector himself. He is creating causes whose effects will take him a long time to be done with, more than one lifetime, effects connected with some very interesting and very little known laws of nature. His plight may presently appear worse than that of his animals.

By way of text we will take some non-vivisectional work recently carried out at the biological station of the Prater in Vienna, by Paul Kammerer. He has proved, says _Cosmos_,

that the maintenance of the lizard _Lacerta Vivipara_ in an unaccustomedly warm temperature for several generations, transforms it from a live-young-bearing animal to an egg layer. This acquired property is retained even when the subsequent generations are returned to their normal conditions. We must remember that the live-young-bearing lizard ... may be characterized as an arctic-alpine animal. Its status as a glacial creature explains its live-young-bearing habit; the development of the young is evidently better assured in the mother's body than when the eggs are exposed to the vicissitudes of exterior cold.

Some other lizards, and the field cricket, have been made to vary by similar methods, the new characteristics being likewise transmitted.

What was that intelligence which, working within the body of the lizard, noted the warmer temperature without and knew at once that the hatching of the eggs _within the protecting body of the mother_, and the further development of the young there, were no longer necessary? We do not propose to admit that we are prejudging a dispute in using the word "intelligence." If it seem so now, it will not in ten years. No one will suggest the intelligence of the lizard itself. The ancients--not _very_ ancient ancients, either--believed in the existence of certain classes of lesser "gods" constantly at work behind the visible veil of nature. When in a few years this belief reincarnates among the scientists as a necessary hypothesis (a reincarnation already beginning), some new name will have to be found for the collective intelligence of these beings. "Gods" is not a good word, neither for them nor for their directive superiors, the absolutely spiritual powers on the same plane of being as that spiritual soul of man whereof he knows so little.

The "gods" then, to use that word, have charge of the centers of life, the living beings, in all departments of nature, mineral, vegetable, and animal; contain and work in accordance with the principle of evolution both of form and intelligence; and guide the appearance of variations--not without occasional mistakes needing rectification. Kammerer unwittingly made an indirect appeal to them, and they responded by producing an interior physiological change corresponding with the change of exterior temperature which he maintained.

We come here upon specifically Theosophical criticisms of vivisection. The man who vivisects has made himself the enemy of conscious nature--at work in his own body as much as in that of the animal he injures.

To make the matter clearer, let us think of the One Supreme Intelligence of the universe as manifesting in two ways or directions: in the first, as the spiritual souls of _men_, and, lower down, as their minds; in the second, as the spiritual directive intelligences of _nature_ and, lower down, as the lesser "gods" whom these direct. In time, when men's minds are sufficiently spiritualized and potentized, sufficiently at one with the omnipresent spirit of evolution and intent upon co-operating with it, they will themselves be able to direct the lesser gods, helping and guiding them in their work upon animal, plant, and mineral--the power of immense prolongation of their own lives then coming within their reach. There is already--as the abnormal success of men like Burbank shows--_some_ interplay between man's mind and the working "gods"; whilst the relation between man's _soul_ and the _greater_ nature-powers, the directive, is very much closer. He who serves and studies nature in the right way, begins at once to stand nearer to her consciousness, and is at once the better for it on one or more planes of his being. The partnership begins. And a first way to serve her is to make her children, the animals, feel man as friend, a feeling which enables their minds to come into some measure of inner contact with his and thus be suddenly and immensely stimulated in their evolution.

There is vivisection attended with much immediate pain connected in the animal's mind with man as its cause; and other with little, say a hypodermic injection, the pain following later in the form of the disease sown by the syringe and often not connected by the animal with man at all.

Either way the operator is a disease-producer and has the mental attitude of one. To say that he is recognized by nature as such may seem absurd. But as he who really wills and pictures health, whether his own or that of some other, finally affects the nature-mind in his own body and--other things being co-ordinate--begins to move toward it: so likewise the constant willing and picture-making of disease and pain at last affects the same mind but in the contrary direction. The man moves and is moved _away_ from health.

There are states of ill-health unattended, at any rate for a long time, by a single definite symptom. The activities of the bodily machine may maintain their _relations_, their general balance, yet drop as a whole to very low levels. If there is no radiance, no responsiveness to the finer forces of nature, no vital spring, there may yet be no point of actual friction, and to its human tenant the body may seem in average working order.

We say then that the preoccupations of the vivisector's mind have taken his body outside the conscious life-stream of nature, have stopped her constructive and vitalizing work. The body is not simply a living thing; it is an organized complex of living things, conscious centers, life-charged monads, far finer than any of the bacteria which the microscope has shown us or can show us. Drawn in from nature, they dwell with us a while and then return to her somewhat as the blood cells go to the lungs for aeration. _It is the quality of our mental states which determines the quality of the elemental coming in_ and determines also the intervening history of those which leave. The circulation is constant, and if we lived ideal mental lives we could, as already said, achieve something like physical immortality. The monads would come back to us refreshed and recharged with electric vitality.

Death liberates them _all_. They take their ways into the nature-stream and are regenerated in nature's thought and life. The process continues during all the time between death and rebirth. Whilst the man, the soul, rests, his body (the subtler elements of it) is being refashioned and reinvigorated for him. At his rebirth _his own_ monads, blended with those he receives from hereditary sources, are animating the infant form with which he connects himself and in which he will ultimately incarnate. So far as the thought and habit of his last life permitted--for, as said, they are absolutely sensitive to the thought-color of their owner's mind and feeling--they have been renewed.

But there will have been little renewal possible for them if that mind was filled with the color and thought of death, disease, pain, was occupied with the will to _produce_ these--a will exactly oppositely directed to that of the worthy physician. They were untuned with nature's keynote during life and consequently return nearly unchanged--which, in medical language, will mean a case of congenital disease, ill-health, or deformity; and, as part of the penalty, the reaction of the physical defects and disease upon the mind and disposition of child and youth and man.

Nor does the penalty finish at that. The entire personality of such a child and man is in greater or less degree repellant to others, to children, _to animals_. The latter especially, feel him not as a friend but as enemy. Their dislike is instinctual. And all this will continue till in one or another life the man has been stung to the redress of the evil he has done, has returned kindliness for hostility year by year, has changed, freshened, and sweetened his thought and feeling and so by degrees every atom of his body.

Truly the plight of the vivisector is a thousandfold worse than that of the animal he worst outrages.

THE EKOI; Children of Nature: by H. T. Edge, B. A. (Cantab.)

The ideas current about ancient or ethnic peoples are largely qualified by the "personal equation" of those who have observed and described them. These ideas are not facts but points of view. In too many cases the point of view is so colored by an unsympathetic attitude on the part of the viewer as to constitute a misrepresentation--a fancy picture, having no counterpart in reality. Thus have been described the classical times and the non-Christian races. But times are changing. As our civilization grows older it grows wiser, loses some of its supercilious ignorance, and can view other times and places than its own with more sympathy and sense. Already the histories and geographies of our childhood seem prejudiced in our present eyes. But we cannot boast; for there is still much to be done in the same direction.

As a notable instance of what may be achieved in the way of beauty, charm, and uplifting of the mind, by viewing and treating a subject sympathetically, we welcome an account of "The Land of the Ekoi, Southern Nigeria," by P. A. Talbot, B. A., F. L. S., F. R. A. S., F. Z. S., in _The Geographical Journal_ (London, Dec., 1910). By the adoption of such an attitude, in place of the too frequent attitude of superiority and condescension, error is avoided, truth learned, and both writer and reader benefited. We give some extracts and comments, and refer to _The Geographical Journal_ for the rest.

The Ekoi live to the north and northwest of Calabar, the headquarters of the eastern province of Southern Nigeria, partly under British rule, partly under German.

The river is magical, and bold indeed would be that man who should break an oath sworn on its name. For somewhere in its depths dwells Nimm--the terrible--who is always ready, at the call of her women worshipers, to send up her servants, the beasts that flock down to drink and bathe in her stream, to destroy the farms of those who have offended. She manifests herself sometimes as a huge snake, sometimes as a crocodile.

This could have been described so as to make it a heathen superstition. But we see it is possible to give it another color. The interdependence of man's conduct and the powers of nature is indicated; and retribution is shown as the logical consequence of violating natural law. Honor and fidelity are qualities essential to man's well-being. Evil fortune is the result of his putting himself out of tune with nature by his conduct.

We take care about the physical needs of children, but are strangely reckless in other and more important matters concerning them. Contrast this with the following about the Ekoi:

The Ekoi are devoted parents, but it will take years of patient teaching before they grasp the importance of fresh air and the simplest sanitary measures for the health of their little ones. They have curious beliefs as to the advent and death of their babes. One charming superstition [!] forbids all quarreling in a house where there are little children. The latter, so they say, love sweet words, kind looks, and gentle voices, and if these are not to be found in the family into which they have been reincarnated, they will close their eyes and forsake the earth, till a chance offers to return again amid less quarrelsome surroundings.

Rather a healthy superstition, is it not? One that we might adopt with benefit, so that fewer of our children should grow up with quarrel interwoven with every thread of their bodies, mentally, psychically, and physically too. We wish well of the efforts to teach the Ekoi the use of soap and toothbrushes; but only on condition that it does not mean _unteaching_ them their own "beautiful superstition."

The children gave a particularly charming series of games, singing all the while in the pretty lilting way usual among them. Nothing could be more graceful than the waving arms and swaying limbs of the little brown forms as they bent and moved, always in perfect time to their song. The musical faculty of this people is certainly wonderful, though developed along peculiar lines. During the whole period spent among them I have never heard a false note nor found a dancer or accompanist one fraction of a second out of time.

Of this, by way of contrast with us, but one thing can be said: that if it be true, then in time and tune they are immensely our superiors; for how few people can whistle a tune correctly, and how difficult it is to drill people into keeping time!

The religious observances of the Ekoi are altogether a fascinating study. Beneath many modern corruptions and disfigurements are yet to be found traces of an older, purer, form of worship, traces which carry us back to the oldest-known Minoan civilization, and link the belief of the modern Ekoi with that of the ancient Phoenician, the Egyptian, the Roman, and the Greek.

Trees are sacred; birds are sacred, for

Should the birds be injured or driven away the women would become barren and even the cattle cease to bear.

More recognition of the inviolability of cosmic law! Call it self-interest, if you will, it is at least a higher and worthier form of self-interest than the kind that rips the feathers off the birds and turns them loose to die a lingering death, or planes off the wooded hills in order to pile up riches on high.

The Ekoi spend their whole lives in the twilight of the beautiful mysterious bush, peopled, to their fancy, not by wild animals alone, of which they have no fear, but by were-leopards, and all kinds of terrible half-human shapes, and by the genii of rocks, trees, and rivers. Here, more truly even than in old Greece, the terror of Pan is everywhere!

Verily "savage" life is not without its consolations. We have dwelt on the bright side of the picture, and purposely so, for the other side has been too much dwelt upon; and so far from exaggerating, we are merely tending to restore the balance of an equable view. If we regard life as mainly the experience of a Soul, then the outward appurtenances of civilization count for less; and a people like the Ekoi may possibly fulfil the purposes of Soul in quite a satisfactory way. One can even imagine a Soul, wearied with life in modern civilization, taking a resting incarnation in such a people, to dwell with Pan in these beautiful glades.

That the journal of the Royal Geographical Society should publish such a sympathetic account is a noteworthy sign of the times. There seems to be a reactionary movement by which the heathen in his darkness is shedding a little light on our inveterate superstition.

AN UNKNOWN AMERICAN NATION: by H. S. Turner

But few people know that living within the precincts of this country, there is a nation, independent and virtually free from dominance of the United States Government, or of any of its States. Its history is a singular one and is practically unknown. Even our school histories have but little to say about it; so that the impression left on the minds of casual readers is that this nation long ago ceased to exist, as a body of people.

Far down in the southern part of the peninsula of Florida, this nation has its center; its rulers, laws, and government. It has no written treaties with foreign governments--for such is the United States considered by them--yet there is an unwritten treaty accepted by both, which to their common credit has never been broken. This treaty, or agreement as it should be called, stipulates that each nation shall go its own way and not interfere with the other.

The Seminole Nation is its name, and its existence, as at present constituted, dates from the year 1842. Seven years previous to this date, the United States Government decided that the Seminole Indians, who belong to the family of the Muscogees, should be moved from their fertile Florida lands and taken to those of the Creek Nation, far away in the West. At this time the authorities concentrated our Indian wards in a few special places.

The Seminoles bitterly resisted the efforts made to remove them. It was only after a seven years' war that two thousand of them surrendered and were duly sent westward.

Originally the Seminoles had been numerically strong. This hard-fought war reduced their numbers to such a point that after those who surrendered had been transported, but five hundred remained in Florida. They represented, however, the strongest and most determined of their tribe; those who preferred death to surrender.

Separating themselves from those who decided to surrender, they penetrated to the innermost recesses of the Everglades, that death-dealing morass, covered with reeds and jungle-growth, through which winds a veritable labyrinth of stagnant streams, in whose mud crocodiles and alligators disport themselves, and where snakes, mosquitos, and other poisonous life abound. What little solid earth was to be found was nothing but a bog-like mass of sodden ground, thickly covered with grass and vines. Yet there and under such conditions these were determined to look up their home. They valued their freedom above all, and were willing to make any sacrifice and undergo any hardship rather than lose what they valued so highly.

White men could not endure the conditions they had to meet in the swamps, neither could they ever equal the Red man in ability to move quickly in such a place. The little band of Indians scattered and built their shelters on the driest spots they could find, maintaining themselves by hunting the game that was found on every hand.

So accustomed have they become to the conditions in which they live, that they are almost amphibious and absolutely immune to the bites of mosquitos or other poisonous insects.

At times some of the Indians will come out of their retirement and visit their white neighbors. Quite often many of them can be seen on the streets of Miami, Florida, where they go to purchase what limited supplies they may need, the money for the same being obtained by the sale of alligator hides.

At times a few white men have been invited by them to visit their homes in the Everglades. Those who have accepted this invitation have always been glad to hasten their departure, on account of the ravenous hordes of mosquitos and the familiarity of the water-snakes, and this notwithstanding the hospitality and sincere cordiality of their hosts.

Undoubtedly it is due to the ravages of these so-called pests--to their beneficent protection in this instance--that these Indians owe their freedom from the usual contaminating vices of the white man. The latter is simply unable to get close enough in touch to demoralize them. So we find these Indians today, whose life is the same as it was before the white man set foot upon the North American Continent.

They are free from the vice of drink, they live according to the highest moral code, they do not gamble, and are altogether a happy and care-free people. Let us hope they will ever remain so; that they will never lose their natural simplicity of character and their dignified reserve.

The typical costume of the Seminoles is as singularly different from the one usually adopted by American Indians, as their customs and mode of life are. The accompanying photographic reproductions show this feature, as well as give one an idea of their strength of character. The "American type" is clearly shown by the facial angles.

THE CONFINES OF SCIENCE: by Investigator

It is still debated whether the earth in its orbital motion drags the adjacent part of the ether along with it, or whether the earth travels through the ether without stirring the latter. On the one hand it is argued that if the earth (and presumably other planets also) dragged the ether along, complex currents would thereby be set up in the ether; and this circumstance would upset the calculations with regard to the aberration of light, whereas the observations of aberration do not indicate the existence of any such currents in the ether. On the other hand are cited certain delicate experiments of Michelsen and Morley, connected with the measurement of vibration-rates of light, which go to show that there is little or no relative motion between the earth and the ether, or, in other words, that the circumjacent ether moves with the earth. Hence we are required to make the ether stationary for some purposes, but moveable and full of currents for other purposes; not the first time that the ether has been required to perform inconsistent, or apparently inconsistent, rôles.

This quandary has led some petulantly to throw the ether overboard, alleging that "there ain't no such a thing"; while others have sought refuge in abstruse mathematico-metaphysical speculations as to the nature of our conceptions of space and time and the meaning of such conceptual words as _mass_ and _velocity_.

It must be remembered that the ether so far is not an observed object but a hypothetical something. The necessities of our reasoning have demanded that we should, on various occasions and for various purposes, postulate a fixed standard of reference. Thus the undulatory theory of light has required the supposition of a medium to convey the undulations; the kinetic theory of matter has required that we postulate a substantial basis wherein the supposed vortices or centers of energy can inhere. But the ether is, and _ex hypothesi_ must be, beyond the reach of sense perception. Could we but weigh it or measure it in any way--at once we should stand in need of another ether yet more subtle. In a word, however far we go, there is always something beyond.

Physical science, being admittedly a limited sphere, must of course become indeterminate near its borders. Rules which are found to apply with sufficient exactitude within certain limits will be found to apply no longer when we transcend those limits. So long as we study physical phenomena in their relation to each other, we may find those mutual relations sufficiently exact and constant; but when we begin to study physical phenomena in relation to _what lies beyond_, then the uncertainty supervenes. We find it necessary to inquire into the nature of our own perceptions and conceptions.

A phenomenon has its subjective factor as well as its objective factor; but our physics has so far been based on the tacit assumption that the subjective factor is fixed and constant. And it may indeed be so regarded within certain limits. But now we propose to explore the limits of the illimitable and the confines of eternity, regions, whither our senses and our instruments cannot penetrate. What wonder that we find those conceptions of time, space, and motion, which we have derived from our sensory experience in this world, inadequate as a means of formulating what lies beyond!

A slight acquaintance with certain ancient sciences suffices to show that they took into account the subjective component of our perceptions and conceptions, studying the mind and its organs along with nature and its qualities. Regarding phenomena as the result of interactions or coalescences between faculties within and qualities without, they studied both concurrently. Neglecting to do this, we have landed ourselves in not a few difficulties. Needing a fixed standard of reference in our study of motion, we have postulated _space_ as objective, while at the same time our very hypothesis has divested that space of every property which could entitle it to be regarded as an object at all. In vain do we try to overtake our shadow, to put things on a shelf out of our reach, to explore the land of nowhere, or to measure the cubic contents of zero. The notion of "space" as possessing size and three-dimensional extension, but _nothing_ else, is an assumption that may well be regarded by Nature as groundless; yet it is to this standard that we refer our calculations as to motion, etc.

Practical science strides ahead in defiance of such speculations, for it is founded on an investigation of what actually exists in Nature. And even where the theories serve to guide our path to new discoveries, it is as likely as not that our discoveries will outstrip the limits of the theories. There is bound to come a time, if it has not begun to dawn already, when we shall be uncertain whether it is external nature or our own internal faculties that we are studying; as was brought out in connexion with those very singular "Blondlot rays," which were visible (apparently) to Latin races but not to Teutonic!

Having thus suggested the possibility of a study of states of consciousness, such as might result in placing the observer in an entirely new relation to external nature and thereby rendering nugatory all his previous conceptions of time, space, and the like--it remains to add a few words on that topic. There are many people engaged in a heedless and unguided dabbling in such fields, and both old-time wisdom and contemporary experience indicate that the practice is fraught with dangers to health and mental balance. Such explorations demand that we shall step out from the safe shelter of our familiar five-sense consciousness and brave the perils of an unknown land. We are in precisely the position of a man who forsakes the dry land, his native element, where he is lord of the beasts and can plant his feet and his dwelling firmly, and plunges into a sea without bottom or stability and teeming with sharks, and where his life depends on his constant energy and watchfulness. Hence the study of science in its deeper aspects becomes primarily a question of _discipline_--a fact always recognized in the ancient Mysteries. In proof that this statement is true, we need only point to the state of affairs in the world of psychic investigation today; a condition which breathes more of menace than of promise to the future welfare of society, a world where fatuity and folly seem to dog the steps of the heedless explorer.

We give out all our secrets to the mob because there is no one who can successfully assert his claim to be above the mob; our only rule of fair-play is indiscriminate distribution. One cannot presume to set up a sacred college, and the mob rightly and justly fears the possible domination of a clique of biological or theological theorists. Yet knowledge is inseparably connected with duty and obligation; and if this connexion is ignored, that which should be a blessing will prove a curse. What has already occurred in connexion with dynamite and drugs can occur in far worse form in connexion with hypnotism and mental influence. This is sufficient to explain the Theosophical program of work and the reason why Theosophical workers do not find such public researches a profitable field for their efforts while there is so much preliminary work yet to be done both in their own characters and in the world.

When we begin to explore the ether of our own inner nature, we find that investigation comes second to management; we must _control_ our nature--or it will control us. Knowledge is relative to Duty.

THE TOWER OF LONDON AND THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT: by Carolus

The Tower of London and the Houses of Parliament, Westminster, are the most striking and important buildings that stand on the banks of the Thames in London. Both are on the north side of the river, but are at a considerable distance from each other.

The Tower is one of the few early Norman castles which have come down to us in a fairly perfect condition. Tradition says a fortress was built by Julius Caesar on the site, but the nucleus of the present building was begun in 1078 by William the Conqueror. This was the White Tower, the highest building with the four turrets shown in our illustration. It was completed by William Rufus, who also built the famous "Traitor's Gate," through which the unfortunate victims of Royal displeasure were rowed in from the river. Many additions were afterwards made, and the building and courts now cover thirteen acres surrounded by a moat. The Tower was closely identified with many of the most tragic events in English history for at least five hundred years after its erection, and if its walls could speak the tale of horror could hardly be surpassed by the record of any other medieval building. In the Chapel of St. Peter-in-Chains, lie the bodies of Queen Anne Boleyn and her brother, Queen Catherine Howard, the Earl of Essex, the Duke of Monmouth, Bishop Fisher, More, and many other great personages who suffered death in the Tower. It was a short road from the Traitor's Gate, through the Bloody Tower, to this chapel. Many State prisoners have spent weary years of incarceration in the Tower; Sir Walter Raleigh, one of the greatest and noblest, was confined here for thirteen years.

The Tower of London was occasionally the residence of the earlier sovereigns of England, but its main purpose was the defense of the city. In these days of powerful weapons it would be useless as a fortress, but it is still a military post and headquarters, and contains a large collection of armor. The Jewel Room, in which the Royal Regalia are kept, and the rooms where distinguished prisoners were confined, attract many visitors.

The Houses of Parliament at Westminster are--with the exception of Westminster Hall, built by William Rufus--quite modern, and have no gloomy associations such as those of the Tower. The building covers about eight acres and the façade overlooking the Thames is nine hundred feet long. The tall tower on the left in the illustration is the Victoria Tower; it is supported upon four pointed arches sixty feet in height, and the highest point is three hundred and forty feet above the ground. The central tower is three hundred feet high, and the picturesque Clock Tower, on the right, is three hundred and twenty feet high. During the evening sittings of the Houses a lamp is kept burning near the top of the Clock Tower, which is extinguished when the debates are over. The building consists mainly of the House of Peers and the House of Commons, with the connected apartments and offices, the whole forming one structure. Just above the river, along the front of the palace runs the Terrace, a broad paved walk where the members of Parliament can stroll in the fresh air and yet be within sound of the division bell.

The towers of Westminster Abbey are visible to the left of the Victoria Tower, and a small portion of Westminster Bridge is seen at the extreme right.

Not far from the Houses of Parliament is Trafalgar Square, which is probably more familiar to the general public than any spot in London, for it is the meeting-place of so many important thoroughfares. Our illustration is taken from the steps of the National Gallery of Pictures. The fluted Corinthian Column erected to Admiral Nelson dominates the scene. The colossal bronze statue of the hero is elevated one hundred and seventy-six feet in the air and, needless to say, the artistic workmanship is above criticism, for no one can distinguish any detail at that height! The bronze lions at the base are by Sir Edwin Landseer, and possess considerable dignity. At the far end of the street to the left of the Nelson Monument (Parliament Street) the faint outline of the Clock Tower of the Houses of Parliament can just be distinguished. At the top of this street, not far from the Nelson Monument, stands the fine antique equestrian statue of Charles I, one of the few outdoor monuments that are creditable to the British metropolis. A few steps to the left of Trafalgar Square as shown in the plate is the new Charing Cross; the original one was destroyed by the Puritan Parliament.

POINT LOMA NOTES: by C. J. R.

Here at Lomaland the yerba santa, whose leaves never lose their delicate gray-green, is a widely scattered bush. It is a favorite of the Leader's. Among other plants, the sumach, the manzanita, the grease-wood, the "mahogany," and the dwarf-oak, clothe the sides of the romantic cañons and the tops of the hills with bright verdure throughout the year. There are always some wild flowers too, though the kinds that blossom during the summer are generally not as plentiful or beautiful as those of the spring. The thousands of eucalypts and cedar trees, etc., which have been planted mainly upon the lower portions of the grounds during the past few years by the Lomaland Forestry Department, have greatly improved the beauty of the landscape for miles along the ocean front; and the Canary palms and Date palms, the lemon and pepper trees, the acacias and pines, within the Homestead gardens and bordering the avenues, have now grown to a size and beauty which make them a pleasure to look at. Every visitor who comes into the grounds expresses delight at the wealth of foliage and cultivated flowers which surround the Râja Yoga College and Temple as well as the students' homes and bungalows.

In a few weeks we may expect the first rains, though sometimes they do not arrive till nearly Christmas, and then the multitude of seeds that have been quietly biding their time will begin to stir, and soon after the opening of the new year the hills will assume the vivid green which will not diminish till next summer; the five varieties of Lomaland ferns will unfold their delicate fronds on the shady southern side of the cañons; and then the ground will become carpeted with spring flowers of many colors, chiefly purple and gold. When Katherine Tingley first established the headquarters of our Society here there was very little grass, except at the lower levels near San Diego, but it has been gradually creeping up the hills until it has become a characteristic feature of the Spring; it seems to have increased in proportion to the enlargement of the human population of Point Loma.

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WE have been reading with sympathy of the terrible heat that has been such a marked feature of the present summer throughout Europe and the larger portion of the United States. In Lomaland, and all along the Pacific slope, nothing of the sort has been felt, for the constant westerly breezes which blow from the ocean keep the temperature down; no case of sunstroke has ever been recorded here, and there is never any need to cease from outdoor work or exercise during the heat of the day; the nights are never too hot for a blanket.

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THOUGH we usually do not get our best sunsets until the so-called "winter" months, lately there have been several of the magnificent ones for which Lomaland is famous. In August a very remarkable mirage was seen by a large number of persons at a sea-coast town about a hundred miles to the northward. It represented a ship ashore on dangerous rocks with the waves beating over it, and it was so real and vivid that the lifeboat went out to rescue the supposed drowning crew. But when it reached the spot (less than a mile from the beach) the boatmen could see nothing, and there were no rocks near. From the shore it appeared as if the lifeboat passed through the wreck. An attempt made to photograph the mirage turned out a failure. About ten years ago a strange mirage was seen from the Homestead in the form of an island far out at sea. It persisted for several days and was so realistic that some persons were on the point of chartering a boat to sail out to it and take possession when it disappeared. The mystery of many well-authenticated mirages has never been explained by the ordinary laws of refraction and reflection. _The Century Path_ of October 25, 1908, which can be found in nearly all the libraries in America and other countries, contains a special article on the subject, giving many examples and treating it from the Theosophical standpoint.

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THE Woman's International Theosophical League, with its center at Point Loma and its world-wide membership elsewhere, is becoming, or has become, one of the most potent instruments for the spread of our work that the Leader possesses. First organized under the name of the Woman's Propaganda League, it has greatly extended and enlarged its activities under the new title. During the Spring months of this year the women of the League in Lomaland organized a most successful series of meetings for women only at the Isis Theater, San Diego, at which the Leader gave addresses which are said by those who were present to have been the most uplifting and inspiring she has ever delivered. She spoke out in the plainest language about the causes and the only remedies for the steady degeneration of the so-called civilized world, and she showed what a marvelous power for redemption women have in their own sphere, the home. The Isis Theater was crowded to its utmost capacity on each occasion Katherine Tingley spoke, hundreds of eager women of all classes could not find accommodation and, to judge by the mass of correspondence received, the impression made was most profound. According to the Leader's words, the splendid organizing work of the women of the Woman's International Theosophical League and the perfect harmony and unity prevailing among them in no small degree helped in producing this admirable result; the conditions were ideally perfect, and the audiences felt that there was an entirely different spirit present from anything ever before experienced. From the loyal, impersonal and womanly efforts of the League a new life has come into the atmosphere of Lomaland, a broadening and harmonizing influence. Its members are giving a fine expression to the principle of Co-operation between men and women which the Leader is ever striving to build up.

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SOON after the last of the women's meetings at Isis Theater the Leader gave the signal for dramatic work, and the Woman's League began the preparations for the Greek Symposium, _The Aroma of Athens_, several representations of which were given with conspicuous success, first in the Isis Theater and then in the open-air Greek Theater, Lomaland. Here was an excellent opportunity for the co-operation spoken of, and it was realized to the uttermost. While the artists and craftsmen prepared the scenery and properties, or built the stately Grecian structures in the open-air theater which remain permanently for use in the future dramatic work, the skilful and tireless needlewomen made the hundreds of costumes needed, all being done under the personal supervision of the Leader and from her own designs. The same cheerful spirit of co-operation was evinced in the musical and dramatic rehearsals for the Symposium, and in the frictionless management of the arrangements for the staging of the couple of hundred characters who appear in the play--no easy task.

In view of the greater activities of the Woman's Theosophical League which are shortly to take place, it has secured a spacious hall within the Homestead grounds which will afford ample accommodation for the present as a headquarters for its business meetings and other general activities. It is known as the Woman's League Hall.

THE WOMAN'S INTERNATIONAL THEOSOPHICAL LEAGUE, POINT LOMA, CALIFORNIA

Woman's Work in Lomaland; a Side Light: by a Member of the League

THAT is the true athlete, the man who exercises himself against appearances (illusion). Pause, consider, do not be carried away. Great is the combat, divine is the work. It is for kingship, for freedom, for happiness.--_Epictetus_