[Page 1] No more difficult work could be proposed, perhaps, to any body of people, than the understanding of Theosophy and the effectual carrying on of its propaganda. Its philosophy is more abstruse than that of Hegel, while it is also far more subtle, and many of its evidences require so much study and self-denial ere they can be estimated, that they will certainly remain hidden from the majority, not because they are themselves incomprehensible, but because average, easy-going people have not the capacity of working them out. Yet the ethical teachings rest finally on the philosophy, and those who cannot, or will not, study the philosophy are reduced to accepting the ethics by themselves; they can, indeed, be shown to be useful, by that most potent of all arguments, the argument from experience; for they are most effective in promoting morality, i.e., in inducing social happiness. On this utilitarian ground they can be taught, and can there hold their ground against any rivals in the same field. There they can use the conditional, but not [Page 2] the categorical, Imperative; the categorical remains veiled, the ultimate authority can be found only on the metaphysical heights, and those heights can be scaled but by the strenuous efforts of the patient and undaunted student. Each such student can, indeed, bear his testimony to what he has seen and known, but to all, save himself, his evidence remains secondhand. Personally won, it remains a personal possession, priceless indeed to him, but of varying value to those who hear it from him. Not on such evidence can Theosophy base itself in an appeal to the cultivated intelligence of the West, intelligence trained in the skeptical habit, and cautiously guarding itself against unproven assumptions. Nor let it be forgotten that the West has, in its own eyes, this justification: that it has freed itself from the bondage of superstition, and has won its intellectual victories, by the wise use of scepticism and the prudent suspension of judgment until assertion has been demonstrated by fact.

It is then necessary, if Theosophy is to make its way in the West, and to give to it the much-needed basis of the scientifically spiritual, that Theosophists should present to the indifferent, as to the enquirer, sufficient prima facie evidence that it has something valuable to impart, evidence which shall arouse the attention of the one class, and attract the other into the investigation of its claims. The evidence must be such as can be examined at first-hand by any person of ordinary [Page 3] intelligence, and it need not seek to establish anything more than that Theosophy is worth studying. Let the study be fairly begun, and the student be capable of mastering its initial difficulties, and its acceptance is certain, though the period of that full acceptance will depend on the student's mental characteristics and the type of his intelligence. As Madame Blavatsky says:

"The value of this evidence is a point to be decided ere serious study is commenced". Often, in our Lodges, when the members are engaged in a consecutive course of study, a casual visitor, admitted by courtesy, will get up and suddenly ask: '' What is the evidence on which Theosophy is based, and of what use is it ?” as though a passer-by, dropping in and listening to a teacher instructing a mathematical class on the theory of equations, should suddenly challenge him to prove the use of numbers and the [Page 4] rationale of the algebraical signs. In any science, save that of Theosophy, a person who expected a class of students to stop, while the reasons for their study were explained to a stranger who knew nothing of their subject, would be recognized as taking up a foolish and irrational position; but in Theosophy we are always expected to break off our work in order to prove that we are not fools for doing it. And if we show any unwillingness to do this, it is at once taken for granted that our position is unsound, and that we are afraid of investigation. As a matter of fact, we have not time to justify ourselves to each successive visitor who may be led by curiosity to obtain from a member an introduction to our Lodge meetings; and it is the purpose of this paper to present, once for all, some of the evidences which have determined us to seek in Theosophy the light which, elsewhere, we have failed to find.

The name Theosophy is not ancient, dating only from the third century, being used first by Ammonius Saccas and his school. But the teaching itself dates back many a thousand years, unchanged in its main features, taught today in England to truth-seeking students as it was taught when Buddha wandered over Indian plains, or earlier still, when ancient Rishis guided their Chelas along the path which leads to Wisdom.

What this teaching is may be briefly outlined.

Theosophy regards the Universe as a transitory manifestation of Eternal Existence, the summer-day [Page 5] flower of an Eternal Root. That Root is the One Reality, the only Permanent among the myriad and fleeting phenomena which surround us on every hand, and among which we ourselves are numbered. From that Unity proceeds all diversity; into that Unity all diversity again returns. It is manifested in the atom as in the man, in what is spoken of as the non-living as well as in the living.

Periodically the aspect of the Eternal Existence that we call Life radiates as source of the manifested Universe, the Universe being but “the variously differentiated aspects” of the One Life. Thus, to the Theosophists, the most differentiated forms are essentially one; matter and spirit are but the two poles of the one magnet, inseparable, not thinkable as existing apart from each other. To use clumsy phraseology, spirit is the One Life in its early manifestations, matter is the One Life solidified: the objective Universe “is, so to say, held in solution in space, to differentiate again and crystallize out anew” , during a period of manifestation.

This 'pilgrimage of the Ego' is the central idea, so to speak, of Theosophy: this gaining of self-consciousness is the very object and outcome of the Universe: for this it was manifested, for this it exists, groaning and travailing in pain to perfect and bring forth the self-conscious spirit.

This bald statement must suffice as to the teachings of Theosophy, for it is not the purpose of this paper to expound Theosophical ideas, but to set forth some prima facie evidence that Theosophy is worthy of attention. Let us then turn to the evidence, and ere dealing with it in detail, let us consider the general nature of the proof that may be fairly demanded by anyone who is willing to study Theosophy, if it can be shown to him that the study is likely to be fruitful.

The average man is apt to regard a physical demonstration as the most convincing that can be given: it appeals to the senses, and “I must believe the evidence of my senses” is a phrase that often drops from the lips of the slightly instructed person. One of the early lessons learned by the student of physiology is that the senses are very easily deceived, and are subject to various illusions and hallucinations. Still, for demonstrating physical facts, physical experiments are the most satisfactory, and, with certain precautions, may be taken as trustworthy proof.

But physical phenomena are not relevant as proofs of intellectual and spiritual truths. No physical miracle can demonstrate a moral maxim. The doctrine, “Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you” , is neither more nor less true because Buddha and Jesus could, or could not, cure certain diseases by means not understood by their followers. The demonstration of a problem in Euclid is in no way assisted by the teacher being able to levitate himself, or to draw across the table to his hand without contact a box of mathematical instruments. He might be able to perform these feats, and yet make a blunder in the working out of his demonstration: and he might be totally incapable of such performances, and yet be a competent mathematical teacher. [Page 9] Mathematical and logical proofs need no physical phenomena to accredit them: they stand on their own ground, are tried by their appropriate tests. Many people cannot follow a mathematical proof; it is impertinent to dazzle them into acquiescence by the display of some irrelevant physical ability; if they cannot appreciate the force of the demonstration, they must either suspend their judgment on the conclusion, or accept it at second-hand, i.e., on authority. They will be very foolish if they deny the conclusion, because the evidence for it is beyond their grasp; but they are perfectly justified in withholding their belief where they cannot understand. If some important line of action depends on their acceptance or rejection of the conclusion, then they must make their own choice between acting on authority or suspending action until able to understand: the responsibility is theirs, and the loss of non-action, if loss follow, is theirs also. The propounder of the proposition may fairly say: “This is true: I cannot make the proof any easier for you than I have done. If you cannot see it, you only can decide whether or not you will act on my assurance of its truth. Such and such consequences will follow your rejection of the conclusion, but I have neither the right nor the power to enforce on you action founded on that which I personally know to be true, but which you do not understand” . In Theosophy, the student will often find himself in such a dilemma: he will be left free either to [Page 10] proceed, accepting the authoritative conclusion provisionally or fully as a guide to action, or to decline to proceed, until the steps as well as the conclusion lie plainly before him. He will never find himself driven, but if he always stops until he has personally demonstrated a conclusion, he will often find himself losing what he might have gained by fearless confidence in teachers of times proven.

For, after all, the student of Theosophy is only advised to follow the methods adopted by pupils in every other science. It is not the blind faith of the religionist in propositions that cannot be verified that is asked from the Theosophical student: it is the reasonable trust of a pupil in his master, the temporary acceptance of conclusions, every one of which is to be demonstrated the moment the pupil's progress makes the demonstration intelligible. The study carries the pupil into the physical, the intellectual, the spiritual worlds, and in each the appropriate tests and proofs will be forthcoming: as physical proofs are out of court in the intellectual world, so physical and intellectual proofs are not available in the spiritual. But here again Theosophy demands nothing differing in kind from that which is freely granted to our logicians and mathematicians by the physicists; as the former are unable to show to the latter experimental physical evidences, so the spiritual adept is unable to show to the logician and the mathematician proofs couched in their special intellectual forms. Not therefore is his science [Page 11] superstition, nor his knowledge folly; he stands in the realm of the Spiritual, as secure, nay, even more secure, than they stand in the realms of the Reason and of the Material, He can justify himself to them in their own worlds, by showing in the Material that he knows more than the physicist of the powers latent in matter, and in the Rational by showing that he knows more than the intellectual giants as to the workings and capacities of the Reason; but in his own sphere he is judged of none; he answers but to his Conscience and his Destiny.

(a) As to the existence of such a Secret Doctrine, no doubt was felt in the ancient world. What were the famous Mysteries whether in India, in Egypt, in Greece, or elsewhere — but the unveiling to the selected few of the doctrines so carefully hidden from the outer world ? As said Voltaire:

So Dr. Warburton also:

These Mysteries, we learn from Cicero, were open only to the upright and the good: