Chapter III: Part 3

“The most beautiful things remain invisible to those who have not eyes to see. Look at the hundreds and thousands in every large city and, strange to say, more particularly in country districts, who know nothing of the beauty and sublimity of the heavens and nature around them. Many a farmer looks at the sky simply to note the changes of the weather. The magnificence of cloud effect, the glory of the sunrise and the quivering of the eternal stars, he never sees. And even those who profess to be lovers of nature, how little more than external beauty do they see? Do they indeed see any deeper than the surface of things and but rarely pierce the veil to behold with awe and wonderment the reality?”

_Dr. Roberts._—“But, Madam Purple,....”

_The Professor._—“Ah! Doctor, it is always, ‘but’. Isn’t it all true, with no ‘but’?”

_Dr. Roberts._—“Yes, I grant you that what Madam Purple said about the appreciation of nature is true, and even that the same thing applies to the appreciation of art and music and the drama. But—I was going to say—it seems to me your illustration is too lofty for the case under consideration. It is true one may rise to the greatest heights of consciousness under the influence of music and poetry and the contemplation of high ideals and if I understand you aright, Madam Purple, you hold these are the same high feelings that may be aroused by the grand harmonies of nature and by what perhaps is meant by the music of the spheres. Do I catch your meaning?”

_Madam Purple._—“Yes, Doctor, you have caught the idea in part, but music and poetry and the harmonies of nature too often exercise only what I might call an unconscious and transitory influence—not deep-seated in any sense—because men will not open their eyes and lend their ears. The great anthem of nature is ever being sung; life is joy and harmony; but alas, there are so many who will not open their hearts to the song and the sunshine. But I see you wish to say something more, Doctor.”

_Dr. Roberts._—“Yes, I grant this may be true, no doubt it is true, but to return to the old Greek tragedies, although there may be lofty ideas in them, I fail to see that they will produce the effect you anticipate. There is no music in them and they are altogether too cold and bare. Besides, what meaning do they hold, deeper than that which may be seen by the ordinary reader?”

_The Professor._—“A meaning that the mere student of languages and literature will never find, but one that to the student of life, to one who recognizes that there is an inner life, will ever unfold more and more and reveal such beauties and harmonies that will thrill the very soul.”

_Dr. Roberts._—“I do not see it, though I grant that high moral lessons may be contained in the old Greek poetry and tragedies, but at the same time there is so much that is mere fancy. We have passed the age of the childhood of the race when the mythological tales of the gods and goddesses were seriously taken. I do not deny that there may be many valuable lessons in these, but I certainly think that you are reading into them a great deal that is not there. Pardon my frankness, but I really wish to understand your position.”

_The Professor._—“It is not a question of reading a meaning into them, but of being able to draw the meaning out, and to do this requires a master-hand. No modern scholar who is not a mystic will find it, and it is no wonder it has been lost to the ordinary reader.”

_Madam Purple._—“Doctor, you thought my illustration of the beauties of nature too high, but after all the beauties which we see in nature are but the reflection of the beauties in the soul, and do not exist save to him who has developed some beauty of soul. The old Greek tragedies, and particularly those of Æschylus, are portrayals of the life and struggles of the soul.”

Just then Dr. Wyld came into the room. He had been present at the performance of the Play, and had expressed himself so pleased with it that the Professor had asked him to visit the Club.

The Doctor came over immediately to where Madam Purple and the Professor were sitting, and these meetings being more or less informal, the conversation was interrupted for the exchange of greetings.

Dr. Wyld is a very tall, broad-shouldered, spare man, I should judge about seventy years old, but carrying his age gracefully. He is one of the best known Greek scholars, of a keen and vigorous intellect. Dignified, yet with a keen appreciation of humor and fond of a good story as well as able to tell one. Not only is he a profound scholar of Greek and Neo-platonic literature, but of the world’s literature, ancient and modern. He is at once a mystic and a keen observer of men, and had led a very active life, especially in the literary world, as an author, and had also written for some of the leading newspapers of the metropolis. In this way he had met very many of the prominent public men, both literary and political, of the past half-century. It had been my privilege to spend many a delightful hour with him and in that way I have gained a clearer conception of the history of the United States than from any reading I have done, and also of the beauties of the writings of the old philosophers, especially the Neo-platonists.

His tall figure and dignified bearing would attract attention in any gathering, and as he entered the room with his long stride, all eyes were turned towards him.

The Professor rose to receive him. The room was beautifully yet simply decorated with hangings of harmonious colors, and the Doctor noticed these immediately and addressing Madam Purple:

_Dr. Wyld._—“What a pleasure it is to come into a room where there is such harmony of tone and color. I can well understand what the Professor told me that your meetings here are always delightful. The very atmosphere seems conducive to harmony of feeling and the awakening of high thought.”

_Madam Purple._—“That is true, Doctor, I hold that color ought to be made a very important factor in life, and that the harmonies of sound and color are essential features of true education.”

_Dr. Wyld._—“And I think you have already struck the key-note of this in your production of the Eumenides, and I wish to tell you of the rare treat it was to me to witness it and the opportunity it gave me of really judging what a Greek play is like—such as could never be gained from reading. It had all the aroma of ancient Athens. One of my friends remarked that it had the beauty of a Greek statue, but I would go further, for it had also the grace and beauty of life. I do not mean that the performance was perfect but it was the spirit that pervaded it that gave it this great charm. And after seeing it I do not wonder in coming here that you also carry out your ideas of harmony in the decoration of your Club-room. It is a further carrying out of what you teach and which I fully agree with, that what is most needed in our educational system and in life generally is a sense of harmony and of the due proportion of things.”

Here the Rev. Alex. Fulsom, who had come in a short time before Dr. Wyld, and had listened more attentively than usual (without going to sleep) to the conversation, moved his chair a little forward as if to speak, but waited a moment. Although he always expressed himself as most sensitive to harmonious shades of color and adored—as he expressed it—Greek statuary, though he equally adored a pretty bonnet, nevertheless did not in any way support Madam Purple in her revival of the ancient Drama.

_The Professor._—“Well, Alec, what is it now? Another objection? I’m beginning to think you belong to some objection society, whose main purpose is to object to everything on principle and for the sake of objecting. Come, tell us now, haven’t you pledged yourself to the following:—‘I pledge myself to always object to everything that may be proposed by anybody?’ But for once, Alec, put your objections on one side and enter into the spirit of the subject.”

_Rev. Alex. Fulsom._—“No, Professor, I am not to be turned aside from my opinion by any method of badinage or ratiocination. And what is more, I think it my duty to express my views. As I have said before, it appears to me altogether beneath the dignity of a Leader and Teacher in such a cause as ours to be concerned in the production of a play—whether Greek or not—or to spend so much time and the energies of the Club in mere philanthropic work. The latter, doubtless, is laudable enough but the Club has other aims to pursue, and it seems to me to have departed from its time-honored methods of study. Indeed, the study of the philosophy seems to be almost completely overlooked nowadays.”

_The Professor._—“Having delivered yourself of your objection, I trust you feel a little relieved, my friend, but you have not hit the nail on the head, Alec. Study is not overlooked, but on the contrary, our students are learning how to study and the true value of study as the precursor of right action. Thanks to Madam Purple, the study of philosophy is no longer looked upon as the end and aim of life. Theoretical study is good and necessary, but our students realize that Brotherhood is more than a theory, that it is an actual fact to be consciously realized and that they must seek to make Theosophy a living power in their lives.

“You know well the scriptural saying which I will slightly paraphrase, ‘Let your light so shine before men, that they seeing your good works will glorify the higher law and follow it.’ It behooves us to practice Brotherhood as well as to profess it. But it is the things they don’t like that the objectors see but they fail to see that the study which they are crying out for is still pursued though on higher and broader lines than heretofore, become possible by the advance made by the whole Movement. The inner work and the real study have never ceased but have taken on a deeper meaning. Thank the gods, instead of the members seeking to have or to become special _gurus_ and imagining themselves better than others, the whole organization moves along in touch with the life of the world, all striving ever to put into practice that which they preach. The time-honored methods of which you speak were fast becoming time-honored ruts and you ought to thank your stars, that here is an opportunity to get out of the ruts and enter upon a broader field of life and activity as well as of study. And so far as the Play is concerned you seemed to have missed entirely its purpose and the wide influence which can thus be exerted in the world.”

_Rev. Alex. Fulsom._—“There may be some good in it no doubt, but there are so many other things that are needed in the world. I certainly think a teacher would have a higher work to do. There are enough philanthropists and elevators of the drama, whereas our philosophy is unique, and surely we ought to carry out the original plans of the Founder.”

_The Professor._—“And you assume, I might say, _presume_, to know what those original plans were, but your conception of them admits of no growth, but only stagnation or the continuing in ruts which so many have formed for themselves through their misconception and limited knowledge of, if not deliberate indifference to those plans.”

I often wondered how it was the Professor did not lose patience completely with the Rev. Alec., always so pessimistic, trying to tear down. But then we all knew that his moods depended on his digestion, and upon that subtle disease—the love of approbation and prominence.

_Madam Purple._—“Mr. Fulsom, do, I beg of you, try to rise a little above your pessimistic fears and let a little of the sunshine of hope and trust come into your heart. Students of Theosophy above all others ought to be able to take a larger grasp of the problems of life and perceive that the greatest truths which will ultimately bring the grandest results and happiness to all mankind must necessarily be often at first obscured; that to help the masses we must begin where they can appreciate the work, and so move out gradually along the lines of least resistance. Thus will all those who seek the Light be attracted and helped, whatever their development. Our grand philosophy must be presented in various ways if the many different minds are to be touched, for you well know that all men are not built alike—to use a common expression. Babes need to be fed as well as strong men. For some the teaching must be given in parables and there are some truths that but few can bear to hear. As for the original plan of the work, H. P. B., the great artist, spread the canvas and sketched the outline with a bold hand, then the second Helper put in the colors of the background thus making clearer the design upon the trestle board, but do you think you have been able to see the whole of the grand design and have grasped the harmonious proportions of the noble edifice in all their beauty and grace.”

Then turning her head for a moment with her wonderful smile, Madam Purple continued after a short pause.

“Imagine for one moment that when H. P. B. began her work in the world she could have shown what is now being done, or that it could be shown to you what will be the outcome of her efforts two hundred years hence, would it not be entirely beyond belief, can you even imagine it? There must be a _gradual_ growth and unfoldment suited to the comprehension of the people. How then dare anyone say that the present activities are contrary to the plan of H. P. B. Ah! Mr. Fulsom, is not such a position evidence of retrogression and not of growth?

“But, pardon me, Dr. Wyld, this is somewhat of a digression from the subject of the Greek play which you were discussing. Let us come back in thought to the old Greek Drama. There, at least, the gods wait for us and call to us to rise above this XIXth Century materialism into the realm of the beautiful, the ideal and the true.”

_Dr. Wyld._—“An almost unknown land to so many, but I hail with joy the prospects that once more the geography of that celestial country shall form part of the education of the race and lead us further back in the history of humanity into that greater and more ancient land of the pyramids and the silent sphinx.”

_Madam Purple._—“And from there further back still to prehistoric America, which was in the early days the ancient Land of Light when Egypt was yet young and whence Egypt derived her wisdom and her science.”

_Dr. Wyld._—“That is indeed interesting, though to me it is not difficult to believe. It opens out a new chapter in the life of humanity and I doubt not that if it can be shown to be so, it will solve many problems in the history of man’s development. But will you not tell us further on this subject.”

_Madam Purple._—“Time would not permit of going into it at any length, Doctor, but I will say this. Time will bring the proof of what I say. Archæological research started at the right time, which is not far distant, in this country and in Central America will supply clear evidence of the truth of this statement.” She paused a moment, then continued:

“My friends, with all these grand possibilities in view, when such momentous questions are involved that will bring such priceless knowledge to the human race, can you wonder that the real workers find time all too precious to be frittered away in useless argument. It is work, work, work, that our glorious cause demands of us.”

Madam Purple spoke with so much earnestness, that it stirred one’s heart to its very depths, old memories of the long forgotten past seemed about to awaken, pictures of the ancient times flitted across the vision, and of the future when the glories of the past should be revived. One young lady of slight figure and pale face, an enthusiastic worker, always present at the meetings, but who never ventured to say a word, now exclaimed:

“The very thought of it brings new life, new hope. Surely we haven’t any time to sit and mope over the little frictions that beset our paths. Surely we should keep on working and trusting that we may be a part of this new life and each of us become individually a hope and a light to those who would walk this broad path of knowledge towards the glorious future that awaits us.”

_Dr. Wyld._—“One can see even now indications that the world is advancing to a broader field of thought. The revival of the ancient drama and the way the ‘Eumenides’ was received show this clearly and show that the links with the mighty past exist in the hearts of men—albeit unconsciously to most, but ready to be awakened into responsive action when again the picture of that long forgotten life is presented before them. I heard with much interest that in one city where the play was given, the notices of the performance were given out in almost every church in the city. And one prominent minister said it was the finest study of conscience scourging for sin and of the Divine Power to pardon and transform, he ever saw. He said such plays are better than sermons.”

_Madam Purple._—“It is indeed gratifying that there are so many interested in almost every line of work that will benefit humanity and who are naturally drawn to help along educative lines. All work to be of real benefit must be educative.”

_Dr. Wyld._—“Let me go back to what I said just after I came into the room, it comes upon me with greater and greater force, and I felt it too while watching the performance that somehow it moved one right away from this grasping, money-making world to a new-old world near to the silence and peace of things where words are not needed.”

_Madam Purple._—“May it not be that by taking up this Drama in the right spirit and reviving the ancient life and consciousness by going back in thought to old Athens, we have started anew the vibrations which resulted in the beauty of Greek art and life. Then here in the Club where but rarely any discordant note arises, but where we come together in harmony there comes an indescribable something that leaves its impress on the heart, of peace and joy and at the same time a sense of courage and unconquerable energy to carry on this work that our beloved H. P. B. and the Chief began. This is a peculiar time at the end of the century, of such vast importance that is scarcely realized by any.”

_The Professor._—“It has been a century of unrest, and nothing is more needed than that this keynote of harmony should be struck at this time, it is in this that lies the hope of the future, and it is in this spirit of harmony that actuates the workers to-day that lies the guarantee that the work will be carried into the next century, though one here and there, unable to go forward in the new age, must be left behind.”

_Dr. Wyld._—“Madam Purple, will you not tell us more about Æschylus’ purpose in writing his plays, for, like Shakespeare’s, I would declare them to be ‘not of an age, but for all time.’”

_Madam Purple._—“Yes, I think Æschylus and Shakespeare may well be compared, for each taught the truths of life, though each veiled them in forms suited to the times in which they wrote. It is perfectly evident to the deep student that there is an inner meaning to the plays of Æschylus, and it may be that in his earnestness and endeavor to instruct the people and bring out these truths he became so enthused that he introduced some features of the Inner Mysteries, and although these could only be recognized and interpreted by Initiates, yet the story is he was condemned to death for this. It is true the inner meaning had to be clothed in a form adapted to the tastes of the people. In those days Greece had begun to retrograde, and the true idea of religion had become obscured in the minds of the masses. It had begun to take on a gruesome aspect, and that which had the greatest hold upon them was fear and the dread of punishment. Æschylus, like all great teachers, adapted his teachings to the mind of his hearers. Instead of taking them so high that they could find no foothold, he used their ordinary conception of religion and took them forward one step at a time. To have brought out the teaching in all its power and grandeur would perhaps have dazzled them, and being beyond their grasp would have seemed to them to be a tearing down of their present conceptions and ideals, and thus have thrown them back and into rebellion.”

_The Professor._—“There are plenty of evidences of this in modern life, of would-be teachers who, ignorant of the laws of growth and development, seek to tear down and at the same time to dazzle their hearers with knowledge which they themselves have not half-digested, and instead of bringing light and freedom, they but imprison and fetter the mind more closely. It is just as though to hasten the growth of a tender plant a gardener would bring it out of a cool and shady spot into the full glare of the sun. Its life would be burned out by that which is the very source of its life.”

_Madam Purple._—“But in Æschylus the teaching is there, though veiled. The wise teacher does not tear down until a new foothold has been found. He builds, constructs and educates, thus slowly leading to a higher level, disengaging the minds gradually from error by instilling a higher conception of truth. The inner teaching runs through it all like a golden thread in a many colored tapestry, now appearing, now apparently lost, but in reality only hidden from the casual observer yet present still to him who has eyes to see.

“A great effort was made by the Initiates at about the time of Æschylus to revive in the heart of the Greeks a love for the ancient wisdom which they had received originally from Egypt. Æschylus himself had been instructed by teachers not known to the world and had been prepared to take part in this work long before he appeared openly as a teacher and a writer. Those who had the best interests of the people at heart and who were ‘called’ to serve as spiritual teachers were ever seeking to educate them not according to what the people demanded of them but according to their needs. Among these was Æschylus. He made no great claims for himself but was a stranger to fear, and so deeply was he imbued with the love of humanity and his desire to serve it that he became indifferent to criticism, and dared to step out into the arena of life with a boldness that to those who see only through the small glasses of vanity and ambition and who could not understand him, may have seemed egotism. But those who can follow the inner meaning of his writings and can see his great purpose, recognize him as a true servant and lover of humanity. What cared he for the hatred and opposition of those who loved personal power and sought to keep the people in ignorance, who saw that his grand work for helping humanity would thwart their designs and block their selfish paths. It was these who persecuted him and caused him to be condemned—not his fellow-initiates and comrades or those who truly loved wisdom and freedom.

“The chief of the persecutors of Æschylus was one who had the ambition to hold the place that he had in the hearts of the people and not succeeding in this sought to destroy him. Yet in spite of his many trials and persecutions his works and memory still live as a monument to his aspirations and noble efforts. Yet even to-day he is only partly understood and like many other teachers will have to wait for the revolutions of the times and the further evolution of man before the grander meaning of his great work is made manifest.

“But it has ever been so in the history of man. History but repeated herself in the case of Æschylus, in the case of H. P. B. and many another. Those who would help humanity know of a surety what to expect, yet they falter not, nay, they even gain new courage and endurance under the persecution, for is there not in their hearts the Light of Truth and the love of all true comrades of the Ages to cheer their path? The devotion of one faithful heart outweighs in the balance a multitude of persecutors.”

[In future accounts of the Sokratic Club some of the characters will appear under other names, but some of our readers who are interested will doubtless be able to tell the identity.—Solon.]

STUDENTS’ COLUMN.
THE BASIS OF ETHICS.

In the December number of UNIVERSAL BROTHERHOOD the question is asked: “Whence arises the sense of duty? In what does it originate?” The answers given are good; and V. F. touches the key-note in the words “he owes it to _himself_,” etc.

The question and the discussions recalled to my mind the answer given to the same question by Dr. Hickok of Union College in his treatise on Moral Science, which was published in 1853, and used as a text-book in the University of Vermont a few years later.

It is too often taken for granted that a Christian must find a new basis of ethics and a new rule of right in order to justify his acceptance of the Theosophical teachings. This is far from the case, even assuming for the sake of the argument what is not true in fact, that theosophy rejects the Bible; for the great majority of Christian writers on this subject have not founded their systems on the Bible, or upon any religious system whatever, but have, so far as they discuss religious duties, treated them as a part of some greater ethical whole. Such is the case in the manual of Dr. Hickok. He only needs to bring out more clearly the unity of finite spirits in Absolute Spirit, and to note the proper distinction between personality and individuality and between individuality and the One Life—a distinction that is logical rather than metaphysical—and to enlarge his view so as to include the tenet of reincarnation with its correlative doctrines, to make his system very good Theosophy. His foundation is impregnable; but by overlooking the unity of the finite in the infinite, and by clinging to the notion of a personal God distinct from the Higher Self, he brings that God into judgment before the finite spirit of man. This makes the Second Part of his treatise, on Divine Government, weak and halting in comparison with the First Part, on Pure Morality. His work would have been simplified and strengthened beyond measure could he have seen that the self before whom man stands in the inner sanctuary of his being is the Higher Self of our teachings, and is one with the highest Deity. I quote Dr. Hickok’s statement of the basis of ethics and of the source of our sense of duty.

“Whether absolute or finite spirit, there is to each an inner world of conscious prerogative—revealed to itself completely, and to itself only, except as the absolute includes the finite—and from which comes forth perpetually the imperative, that every action be restrained by that which is due to its own dignity. It is this consciousness of the intrinsic excellency of spiritual being, which awakens the reverence that every man is forced to feel when he is brought fairly to stand alone in the presence of his own spirit. As if another and a divine self scanned and judged every purpose and thought of the acting self, so is every man when arraigned before his own personality, and made to hear with uncovered head his sentence of self-justification or self-condemnation. There is an awful sanctuary in every immortal spirit, and man needs nothing more than to exclude all else, and stand alone before himself, to be made conscious of an authority he can neither dethrone nor delude. From its approbation comes self-respect; from its disapprobation, self-contempt. A stern behest is ever upon him, that he do nothing to degrade the real dignity of his spiritual being. He is a law to himself, and has both the judge and executioner within him and inseparable from him. The claim of this intrinsic excellency of spiritual being, as apprehended by the reason may be known as the _objective_ Rule of right.

“We may call this the imperative of reason, the constraint of conscience, or the voice of God within him; but by whatever terms expressed, the real meaning will be, that every man has consciously the bond upon him _to do that, and that only, which is due to his spiritual excellency_. The motive to this is not any gratification of a want, not any satisfying of a craving, and thus to be done for a price in happiness; but it is solely that he may _be_ just what the intrinsic excellency of his own spirit demands that he _should be_. Enough for him, that he _is_, in the sight of his own spirit, and of all spirits, worthy of spiritual approbation. Not only would he not sell this worthiness of character for any price, but he has not attained it for the sake of a reward beyond it. That it was not the end, but a means to a further end, would make it wholly mercenary, and the very worthiness he speaks of would be profaned to a marketable commodity. He willingly then would be anything else if he could get equal wages for it. To be thus worthy of spiritual approbation is the attainment of the highest dignity, and may be called the _subjective_ end of ethics, and is a _moral good_.

“This is the ultimate end of rational being; the end of all ends. As worthy of happiness, this may now righteously be _given_, and righteously _taken_, but not righteously _paid_ as a price nor _claimed_ as wages. The _good_ is the _being worthy_, not that he is to get something for it. The highest good—the SUMMUM BONUM—is _worthiness of spiritual approbation_.”

The italics and capitals are Dr. Hickok’s. “As if another and a divine self scanned and judged every purpose and thought of the acting self,” could hardly be improved by any of our theosophical writers.

G. A. MARSHALL.

DARLINGTON, Wis., Dec. 29, 1898.

YOUNG FOLKS’ DEPARTMENT.

THE WESTON TEN.
BY MARGARET S. LLOYD.
I. STILL POOL.

Weston, Massachusetts, is a beautiful little New England town, with the cheerful, home-like air that is almost always found in the villages of that State. It is situated in a pleasant, green valley, surrounded by hills, and one can see the mountains of New Hampshire and Vermont from the main street of the village. The Connecticut River flows past the western part of the town and there are many pleasant walks in the neighborhood.

The children of Weston, and there are many children in this pretty village, love best to go down to the river, or else to take the long walk to Quan Glen.

After leaving the long main street of the village, with its rows of comfortable-looking big white houses, and double row of elm trees, a turn to the north brings one, after a half-hour’s walk, to Quan Glen. It is a lovely little place, always green even in the severe winter, for it is sheltered on either side by high banks of pine, birch, and other trees, that on the north side of the Glen lead away into deep woods. The bottom of the Glen is covered with a soft carpet of mosses and ferns, and through the middle runs a clear stream of water, which makes a pleasant murmur as it ripples and plashes over the white pebbles which compose its bed.

It was on a hot day in August when a party of children came through the woods and prepared to descend the high bank leading down to the Glen. Out of the hot sunshine and into the cool green of the shade trees made a delightful change after their long walk, and they pushed forward through the branches and tall grass and ferns. There were ten children, four boys and six girls. The eldest of the children was Phœbe Allen, a tall, slender girl of fourteen who seemed to be a sort of little queen among the others, as they were constantly appealing to her and running up to show some new flower or especially nice fern they had found. Tommy Jones was the youngest member of the party. He was seven years old and still wore the queer over-all blue checked apron which little boys and girls alike wore at this period, thirty years ago. The apron made a splendid play-dress and was really very comfortable, although our friend Tommy was a quaint-looking little figure as he trotted along, the ruffle of his apron forming a big collar around his neck, from which his head stood out like some new kind of a daisy—a daisy with bright yellow hair and dreamy grey eyes!

Tommy was jolly and full of fun and laughter, but he had his periods of being quiet and this afternoon was one of them. At such times his playmates had learned to leave him alone. For they knew it was just one of “Tommy’s silent times,” and that by and by he would be as merry as the others. He went along with the other children, holding Phœbe’s hand and keeping close to her until they reached the bottom of the glen. Then the others scattered, leaving him and Phœbe to walk on together. The other boys amused themselves by throwing pebbles in the brook and trying to find a minnow, while the little girls wandered about the glen in search of flowers.

Phœbe Allen walked slowly along with Tommy at her side, and after a few minutes she said: “I’m ever so glad we came to the glen to-day. It’s just lovely here isn’t it, little Tommy?”

“Yes, I guess ’tis.”

He continued, “Phœbe, don’t you like the summer time the best of all? The woods are so cool and green and there’s so many flowers.”

“Oh, yes, I do love it. But I think I like the spring time best because I think the little flowers, so pale and tender, are the very dearest of all. The summer flowers are so strong and bright. I love the little spring flowers the best, and best of all the big, beautiful purple violet.”

Tommy thought a while and then he said:

“I know. I guess you mean that we love the things that aren’t strong the best. It wouldn’t hurt a daisy or a big mullein or a clover blossom one bit if it was to rain hard. Would it? But the wee spring flowers couldn’t stand so much, could they?”

“Yes, that’s it. Then, you see, I always think all the flowers are real people, just as real as you and I are, only different, and of all the Flower People—I always call them the Flower People when I think of them—it seems to me that the spring Flower People are the loveliest. For they come to us almost before the winter’s gone and while it is still very cold and we haven’t any other flowers.”

“I think so too,” said Tommy. “You always ’splain to us children and tell us lots of nice things to think about, Phœbe. But I like it best of all when you ’splain things to just me, for then I can understand real easy.”

The children soon came to a big chestnut tree and Phœbe sat down under it to rest awhile. Tommy walked on. Phœbe looked around her. She could hear the children laughing and chattering up the glen. She watched Tommy. He walked along, stopping every now and then to watch a butterfly or to peer into the waters of the brook as it rippled along the side of his path.

Phœbe sat quiet for some time. The voices of the other children sounded farther away until they scarcely reached her. She saw Tommy’s little figure far down the glen, beside the Still Pool. “I wonder what he is looking at,” she thought, “he has been standing beside the pool such a long time.” She called, “Tommy, Tommy,” but he did not turn his head. She waited a moment and then started toward him. As she came near him she saw that he was gazing into the waters of Still Pool as though he saw something very wonderful in it.

Still Pool was a beautiful little well of water at the northern end of the glen. It was formed by water from the brook which had some time gone out of its course and left here this deep, clear pool, all surrounded by ferns and water cress. It was almost always so clear that you could look right down to the bottom of it and see the white pebbles there. The children had always called it the “Still” pool, because it seemed so very quiet in this part of the glen and the pool was the stillest of all.

Phœbe came up to Tommy. He did not hear her; he was looking into the pool. So she came behind him very softly and laid her hand on his shoulder.

“What are you looking at, little Tommy?” she asked.

“I have called and called you, but you never turned your head. I don’t believe you even saw me as I came up here.”

Tommy turned around and looked at her. His big, dreamy eyes looked up into her soft brown ones. “Oh, Phœbe,” he said, “I suppose I must have been dreaming. I’m hardly awake yet. I saw something so wonderful in Still Pool.”

Phœbe looked at the child with deep interest. “You saw a beautiful Face there, didn’t you?”

Tommy looked at her with astonishment. “Why, how did you know? Then I must really, truly have seen the Face.”

Phœbe laid her cool hand on his hot forehead and brushed his hair back. Then she took his hand and said softly:

“Come to my chestnut tree before the other children come back and you can tell me all about it. Or, if you don’t feel like talking, we will just rest under the tree awhile, and when the others come we will all go home together.”

Tommy grasped Phœbe’s hand tightly and walked along. Neither said anything until they had sat under the tree for some time. Tommy’s eyes still wore their far-away look. He laid his head on Phœbe’s lap, and the young girl stroked his yellow hair and waited until he should be ready to talk.

At last the little boy sat up and said:

“I saw a very queer thing while I was at Still Pool. I was just looking into the water and thinking how white the pebbles were, when all at once I couldn’t see the pebbles any more. The water looked all gray, and then, while I was looking and wondering, I saw a beautiful, beautiful face! I really did, Phœbe, honest and true!”

Phœbe looked at the earnest little boy. She answered nothing, but her face was transformed as she listened to his story. Her beautiful brown eyes grew more gentle looking and her face seemed to have a light shining behind it.

“Honest, Phœbe, I did see a beautiful, lovely face. A _real_ face.”

“I am sure you did, Tommy,” said Phœbe. She saw that the child was ready to cry at his fear that perhaps Phœbe did not understand him. “I know you saw the Face. I have seen such a beautiful Face more than once.”

Tommy drew a deep breath. “It was the loveliest face you could think about. It was just shiny, and it had deep, deep kind eyes, and it looked right up at me and smiled. Oh, I felt my heart grow big all at once, and I was just as still as could be for fear the beautiful thing would go away. But the first thing I knew you laid your hand on my shoulder and I sort of felt as if I was just waking up. But I know the face was real and true!”

“Of course it was, Tommy.”

“It makes a little boy feel very strange to have such things happen,” continued Tommy. “But it’s just like my very own thoughts. Sometimes I think and think and think until the air seems all shiny, and then I feel oh, so happy! So very, very happy! But I never can make it into words.”

“No, dearie, you can’t make it into words now, but you will be able to some day. Do you know what I think? I think that nature made you a Poet when you were born, and so, as you grow, the beautiful thoughts will grow and grow as you do, until some time, when you are a big man, you will be able to tell all that you have thought about, all the lovely dreams, if you call them dreams, that you ever have had, and all these lovely shining things will grow into beautiful words and be printed in books. Then they will be read by men and women and little boys and girls, too, and it will help them all to be good and more happy than they ever were before.”

Tommy gazed with loving, wondering eyes while Phœbe spoke. He felt as though he understood all she meant as he watched her face. For while she talked it absolutely shone and she looked as though she saw, far in the distance, little Tommy, grown to be a man and a wonderful poet.

After a while Tommy said, suddenly: “Oh, Phœbe, I know what the lovely face in the pool was!”

“What, dearie?”

“Don’t you remember the other day when all us children were in your house and you were telling us those nice stories? Don’t you remember how you told us there was a shining boy or girl in each one of us? I remember all you told us about it and you said it was the real, true self. Our own best self; our bestest goodie. I believe the face in the pool was my bestest goodie; it must have been!”

“Perhaps it was, Tommy. But why do you say ‘bestest goodie’?”

“'Cause ‘bestest’ is the very, _very_ best, and ‘goodie’ is the very nicest, _goodest_ thing. So ‘bestest goodie’ is the very loveliest thing of all!”

“Well, the Shining One is all that, dearie. You have found a very good name for it. Our Shining Self is our ‘Bestest Goodie.’”

Soon the other children came up to Phœbe and Tommy and the party started for home. All the boys and girls had bunches of ferns and flowers and the boys whistled as they walked. The little girls walked along more sedately, all of them clustering around Phœbe who laughed and chatted with them, as gay as the gayest. Tommy, too, was full of fun, as he hopped along, holding on to Phœbe’s hand. All the quiet, sober thought was put aside, and again they were just two happy children with the others.

As the party reached the main street of Weston once more, it was decided, before breaking up, that the ten children—the Weston Ten, as they call themselves—should meet in Phœbe’s house to spend the afternoon two days from that time.

NOTICES.

We receive an occasional communication addressed to us with a Post-office box number. Some time before the present Headquarters at 144 Madison Ave., was established the business of the Theosophical Society and the Publishing Co. was transacted through a Post-office Box, but Mr. Judge gave up this box upon removal to the Headquarters at 144 Madison Ave., six years ago, and never afterwards used it. The Theosophical Publishing Co., which was founded by Mr. Judge, is still at 144 Madison Ave., to which address all mail should be directed.

The Theosophical Publishing Co., E. A. Neresheimer. Manager.

Mr. Edwin H. Clarke has been selected to assume charge of the Advertising Departments of the UNIVERSAL BROTHERHOOD and _New Century_.

Those desiring information as to rates, etc., as well as all matters pertaining to this department should address

Edwin H. Clark,
Advertising Department,
144 Madison Ave.,
New York.

The Theosophical Publishing Co.,
E. A. Neresheimer, Manager.

BROTHERHOOD ACTIVITIES.

NEW YORK.

The Universal Brotherhood Meetings, held Sunday evenings in the Aryan Hall, are increasing in interest all the time. A noticeable feature is the number of men who attend and the very excellent and intelligent questions which are asked. The meetings are interspersed with music, usually by the Misses Fuller, Piano and Violin, forming a very important part of the proceedings. Short addresses are given and questions answered by H. T. Patterson, H. Coryn, B. Harding, and J. H. Fussell. A collection is also taken to help defray expenses and it is found that the visitors appreciate the opportunity of doing this.

The Aryan Lodge Meetings on Tuesday evening have for some time past been for members only but it has been decided to open them to the public. The first open meeting was held Jan. 17, and a number of visitors were present. The Lodge meetings adjourn at 9.30, thus giving an opportunity for conversation and social intercourse. Our President, Bro. Neresheimer, often adds to the pleasure of the evening by singing.

A new Lodge was formed in New York on the West Side on Jan. 3. At the time of writing three meetings have so far been held. A large room with a piano has been hired at 587 Hudson Street, and a very good beginning has been made, several people being already interested. This is one of the old residence districts of New York and the inhabitants generally are noted for being good thinkers and earnest people. Those helping in the work are members from the H. P. B. and Aryan Lodges: D. N. Dunlop, S. Hecht, Mrs. Cracauer, Dr. Wilcox, Miss Bernstein, H. T. Patterson, H. Coryn, Miss Whitney, J. H. Fussell, and others.

Bro. Albert E. S. Smythe is now making a tour of Universal Brotherhood Lodges and is a fully authorized representative of the Universal Brotherhood, and the International Brotherhood League. He has so far visited Toledo, Fort Wayne and Chicago and has had good success. This is an opportunity for the new members and those at a distance to come in closer touch through Bro. Smythe with the work at Headquarters. Bro. Smythe is so well known through his work in Toronto and as Editor of _The Lamp_ and so many have also heard him at the annual Conventions of the T. S. A. that he needs no introduction.

Inquiries have been received in regard to the railway arrangements for the Congress of Universal Brotherhood at Point Loma next April. Bro. W. A. Stevens, 500 Lafayette Ave., Buffalo, N. Y., has these in charge and will be ready to report by about Feb. 1st. Those desiring information should write him. Further particulars will be given in _The New Century_.

An important meeting of the Universal Brotherhood was held in Boston, Jan. 17, at which were present the Leader, E. A. Neresheimer, F. M. Pierce, H. T. Patterson, and H. Coryn from New York, and Clark Thurston from Providence.

An illustration is given in this issue of the Headquarters Building at 144 Madison Avenue, New York, showing the office and book-store of the Theosophical Publishing Company, on the first floor. The offices of the Universal Brotherhood and the Theosophical Society in America are on the second floor.

January 13th was the 1st anniversary of the founding of the Universal Brotherhood Organization. The second year of U. B. has begun and we can now look back and see how great a work has been done during the past year. But more than all, one may know what this work has been, by simply looking into his own heart. It has been a year of great effort; of trial to some; but has resulted in joy to all who have worked unselfishly in our glorious cause and who have followed faithfully the guidance of our great Leader. I have heard many say recently that it seemed as though a new spring had begun, that they felt so happy they wanted to sing. There does indeed seem to be a new energy awakening and certainly never before has there been such a happy harmonious household and staff as at present at Headquarters, nor have we ever had such bright and harmonious meetings.

But this is not only true of New York and the Headquarters but of the whole organization from Boston and the East, from Fort Wayne, Chicago, Pittsburg, Macon, and Lodges too numerous to mention, from the whole Pacific Coast and the North West come the same tidings of new hope, new strength, new achievements. Truly, U.B. 2 has begun auspiciously.

J. H. FUSSELL.

TACOMA, WASHINGTON.

Jan. 9, 1899.

DEAR COMRADE:—I have your favor of 3d inst. and am fully convinced that you are right in the references and hopes you express for the year 1899. Our local U. B. organization is in good shape, we never were able before to work so unitedly and loyally and the efforts from all the members seem now to strengthen that unity.

Yes, we are all looking forward to Point Loma in many respects. Many of our members are planning to go down and I only wish we could all go and hope we may be able.

R. H. LUND.

A SPLENDID RECORD.

UNIVERSAL BROTHERHOOD LODGE NO. 7, AMERICA,
California Academy of Sciences Building,
Room 30, 819 Market Street, San Francisco.

Secretary’s Annual Report for Year Ending December 21, 1898.

OFFICERS AND MEMBERS OF UNIVERSAL BROTHERHOOD LODGE NO. 7, AMERICA.

COMRADES:—Your secretary begs leave to report as follows concerning the closing year:

The year’s work shows a gratifying increase in results. In order to be exact your secretary gives the figures as shown by the minutes of the year: 547 meetings were held, with an attendance of 41,150, as against 478 meetings and 36,279 attendance in 1897, an increase of 14 per cent. in the number of meetings and of 13-1/2 per cent. in attendance; 481 addresses were delivered at these meetings by 65 speakers.

The highest total weekly attendance was 1060; the lowest 605; average 791.

The most noticeable increase is in the case of the International Brotherhood League, which began the year with an average attendance of 78, and closes the twelve-month with an average attendance of 170, a gain of 118 per cent.

The Lotus Group shows a gain of 18 per cent., as compared with 1897, and Lodge meetings a gain of 29 per cent. The attendance of visitors at the Library increased 16 per cent., and of members at meetings of Pacific Coast Committee for Universal Brotherhood 98 per cent.

The especial attention of members is called to the Ethical Class and Secret Doctrine Class as being the most important local channels for the acquirement of a knowledge of ethics and philosophy. The Ethical Class shows a gain of 35 per cent., and the Secret Doctrine Class 33 per cent. for the year.

The work at San Quentin Penitentiary was resumed in August, under the direction of H. H. Somers, after a suspension of more than a year. Lectures are given monthly, and the chapel is always filled with listeners.

A private meeting of U. B. L. No. 7 was instituted in October, two meetings being held each month. Beginning with January this meeting will be held regularly every Thursday evening, and is expected to accomplish much good by way of bringing members into closer sympathy with each other.