In what precedes we have, of course, dealt but with the failures among Lay Chelas; there have been partial successes too, and these are passing gradually through the first stages of their probation. Some are making themselves useful to the Society and to the world in general by good example and precept. If they persist, well for them, well for us all: the odds are fearfully against them, but still "there is no impossibility to him who Wills." The difficulties in Chelaship will never be less until human nature changes and a new order is evolved. St. Paul (Rom. vii. 18,19) might have had a Chela in mind when he said "to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good I would I do not; but the evil which I would not, that I do." And in the wise Kiratarjuniyam of Bharavi it is written:—

The enemies which rise within the body, Hard to be overcome—the evil passions— Should manfully be fought; who conquers these Is equal to the conqueror of worlds. (XI. 32.)

(—H.P. Blavatsky)



Ancient Opinions Upon Psychic Bodies

It must be confessed that modern Spiritualism falls very short of the ideas formerly suggested by the sublime designation which it has assumed. Chiefly intent upon recognizing and putting forward the phenomenal proofs of a future existence, it concerns itself little with speculations on the distinction between matter and spirit, and rather prides itself on having demolished Materialism without the aid of metaphysics. Perhaps a Platonist might say that the recognition of a future existence is consistent with a very practical and even dogmatic materialism, but it is rather to be feared that such a materialism as this would not greatly disturb the spiritual or intellectual repose of our modern phenomenalists.* Given the consciousness with its sensibilities safely housed in the psychic body which demonstrably survives the physical carcase, and we are like men saved from shipwreck, who are for the moment thankful and content, not giving thought whether they are landed on a hospitable shore, or on a barren rock, or on an island of cannibals. It is not of course intended that this "hand to mouth" immortality is sufficient for the many thoughtful minds whose activity gives life and progress to the movement, but that it affords the relief which most people feel when in an age of doubt they make the discovery that they are undoubtedly to live again. To the question "how are the dead raised up, and with what body do they come?" modern Spiritualism, with its empirical methods, is not adequate to reply. Yet long before Paul suggested it, it had the attention of the most celebrated schools of philosophy, whose speculations on the subject, however little they may seem to be verified, ought not to be without interest to us, who, after all, are still in the infancy of a spiritualist revival.

————- * "I am afraid," says Thomas Taylor in his Introduction to the Phaedo, "there are scarcely any at the present day who know that it is one thing for the soul to be separated from the body, and another for the body to be separated from the soul, and that the former is by no means a necessary consequence of the latter." —————-

It would not be necessary to premise, but for the frequency with which the phrase occurs, that the "spiritual body" is a contradiction in terms. The office of body is to relate spirit to an objective world. By Platonic writers it is usually termed okhema—"vehicle." It is the medium of action, and also of sensibility. In this philosophy the conception of Soul was not simply, as with us, the immaterial subject of consciousness. How warily the interpreter has to tread here, every one knows who has dipped, even superficially, into the controversies among Platonists themselves. All admit the distinction between the rational and the irrational part or principle, the latter including, first, the sensibility, and secondly, the Plastic, or that lower which in obedience to its sympathies enables the soul to attach itself to, and to organize into a suitable body those substances of the universe to which it is most congruous. It is more difficult to determine whether Plato or his principal followers, recognized in the rational soul or nous a distinct and separable entity, that which is sometimes discriminated as "the Spirit." Dr. Henry More, no mean authority, repudiates this interpretation. "There can be nothing more monstrous," he says, "than to make two souls in man, the one sensitive, the other rational, really distinct from one another, and to give the name of Astral spirit to the former, when there is in man no Astral spirit beside the Plastic of the soul itself, which is always inseparable from that which is rational. Nor upon any other account can it be called Astral, but as it is liable to that corporeal temperament which proceeds from the stars, or rather from any material causes in general, as not being yet sufficiently united with the divine body—that vehicle of divine virtue or power." So he maintains that the Kabalistic three souls—Nephesh, Ruach, Neschamah—originate in a misunderstanding of the true Platonic doctrine, which is that of a threefold "vital congruity." These correspond to the three degrees of bodily existence, or to the three "vehicles," the terrestrial, the aerial, and the ethereal. The latter is the augoeides—the luciform vehicle of the purified soul whose irrational part has been brought under complete subjection to the rational. The aerial is that in which the great majority of mankind find themselves at the dissolution of the terrestrial body, and in which the incomplete process of purification has to be undergone during long ages of preparation for the soul's return to its primitive, ethereal state. For it must be remembered that the preexistence of souls is a distinguishing tenet of this philosophy as of the Kabala. The soul has "sunk into matter." From its highest original state the revolt of its irrational nature has awakened and developed successively its "vital congruities" with the regions below, passing, by means of its "Plastic," first into the aerial and afterwards into the terrestrial condition. Each of these regions teems also with an appropriate population which never passes, like the human soul, from one to the other—"gods," "demons," and animals.* As to duration, "the shortest of all is that of the terrestrial vehicle. In the aerial, the soul may inhabit, as they define, many ages, and in the ethereal, for ever."

————- * The allusion here is to those beings of the several kingdoms of the elements which we Theosophists, following after the Kabalists, have called the "Elementals." They never become men. —Ed. Theos. ————-

Speaking of the second body, Henry More says "the soul's astral vehicle is of that tenuity that itself can as easily pass the smallest pores of the body as the light does glass, or the lightning the scabbard of a sword without tearing or scorching of it." And again, "I shall make bold to assert that the soul may live in an aerial vehicle as well as in the ethereal, and that there are very few that arrive to that high happiness as to acquire a celestial vehicle immediately upon their quitting the terrestrial one; that heavenly chariot necessarily carrying us in triumph to the greatest happiness the soul of man is capable of, which would arrive to all men indifferently, good or bad, if the parting with this earthly body would suddenly mount us into the heavenly. When by a just Nemesis the souls of men that are not heroically virtuous will find themselves restrained within the compass of this caliginous air, as both Reason itself suggests, and the Platonists have unanimously determined." Thus also the most thorough-going, and probably the most deeply versed in the doctrines of the master among modern Platonists, Thomas Taylor (Introduction. Phaedo):—"After this our divine philosopher informs that the pure soul will after death return to pure and eternal natures; but that the impure soul, in consequence of being imbued with terrene affections, will be drawn down to a kindred nature, and be invested with a gross vehicle capable of being seen by the corporeal eye.* For while a propensity to body remains in the soul, it causes her to attract a certain vehicle to herself; either of an aerial nature, or composed from the spirit and vapours of her terrestrial body, or which is recently collected from surrounding air; for according to the arcana of the Platonic philosophy, between an ethereal body, which is simple and immaterial and is the eternal connate vehicle of the soul, and a terrene body, which is material and composite, and of short duration, there is an aerial body, which is material indeed, but simple and of a more extended duration; and in this body the unpurified soul dwells for a long time after its exit from hence, till this pneumatic vehicle being dissolved, it is again invested with a composite body; while on the contrary the purified soul immediately ascends into the celestial regions with its ethereal vehicle alone."

————— * This is the Hindu theory of nearly every one of the Aryan philosophies.—Ed. Theos. —————

Always it is the disposition of the soul that determines the quality of its body. "However the soul be in itself affected," says Porphyry (translated by Cudworth), "so does it always find a body suitable and agreeable to its present disposition, and therefore to the purged soul does naturally accrue a body that comes next to immateriality, that is, an ethereal one." And the same author, "The soul is never quite naked of all body, but hath always some body or other joined with it, suitable and agreeable to its present disposition (either a purer or impurer one). But that at its first quitting this gross earthly body, the spirituous body which accompanieth it (as its vehicle) must needs go away fouled and incrassated with the vapours and steams thereof, till the soul afterwards by degrees purging itself, this becometh at length a dry splendour, which hath no misty obscurity nor casteth any shadow." Here it will be seen, we lose sight of the specific difference of the two future vehicles—the ethereal is regarded as a sublimation of the aerial. This, however, is opposed to the general consensus of Plato's commentators. Sometimes the ethereal body, or augoeides, is appropriated to the rational soul, or spirit, which must then be considered as a distinct entity, separable from the lower soul. Philoponus, a Christian writer, says, "that the Rational Soul, as to its energie, is separable from all body, but the irrational part or life thereof is separable only from this gross body, and not from all body whatsoever, but hath after death a spirituous or airy body, in which it acteth—this I say is a true opinion which shall afterwards be proved by us.... The irrational life of the soul hath not all its being in this gross earthly body, but remaineth after the soul's departure out of it, having for its vehicle and subject the spirituous body, which itself is also compounded out of the four elements, but receiveth its denomination from the predominant part, to wit, Air, as this gross body of ours is called earthy from what is most predominant therein."—Cudworth, "Intell. Syst." From the same source we extract the following: "Wherefore these ancients say that impure souls after their departure out of this body wander here up and down for a certain space in their spirituous vaporous and airy body, appearing about sepulchres and haunting their former habitation. For which cause there is great reason that we should take care of living well, as also of abstaining from a fouler and grosser diet; these Ancients telling us likewise that this spirituous body of ours being fouled and incrassated by evil diet, is apt to render the soul in this life also more obnoxious to the disturbances of passions. They further add that there is something of the Plantal or Plastic life, also exercised by the soul, in those spirituous or airy bodies after death; they being nourished too, though not after the same manner, as those gross earthy bodies of ours are here, but by vapours, and that not by parts or organs, but throughout the whole of them (as sponges), they imbibing everywhere those vapours. For which cause they who are wise will in this life also take care of using a thinner and dryer diet, that so that spirituous body (which we have also at this present time within our proper body) may not be clogged and incrassed, but attenuated. Over and above which, those Ancients made use of catharms, or purgations to the same end and purpose also. For as this earthy body is washed by water so is that spirituous body cleansed by cathartic vapours—some of these vapours being nutritive, others purgative. Moreover, these Ancients further declared concerning this spirituous body that it was not organized, but did the whole of it in every part throughout exercise all functions of sense, the soul hearing, seeing and perceiving all sensibles by it everywhere. For which cause Aristotle himself affirmeth in his Metaphysics that there is properly but one sense and one Sensory. He by this one sensory meaneth the spirit, or subtle airy body, in which the sensitive power doth all of it through the whole immediately apprehend all variety of sensibles. And if it be demanded to how it comes to pass that this spirit becomes organized in sepulchres, and most commonly of human form, but sometimes in the forms of other animals, to this those Ancients replied that their appearing so frequently in human form proceeded from their being incrassated with evil diet, and then, as it were, stamped upon with the form of this exterior ambient body in which they are, as crystal is formed and coloured like to those things which it is fastened in, or reflects the image of them. And that their having sometimes other different forms proceedeth from the phantastic power of the soul itself, which can at pleasure transform the spirituous body into any shape. For being airy, when it is condensed and fixed, it becometh visible, and again invisible and vanishing out of sight when it is expanded and rarified." Proem in Arist. de Anima. And Cudworth says, "Though spirits or ghosts had certain supple bodies which they could so far condense as to make them sometimes visible to men, yet is it reasonable enough to think that they could not constipate or fix them into such a firmness, grossness and solidity, as that of flesh and bone is to continue therein, or at least not without such difficulty and pain as would hinder them from attempting the same. Notwithstanding which it is not denied that they may possibly sometimes make use of other solid bodies, moving and acting them, as in that famous story of Phlegons when the body vanished not as other ghosts use to do, but was left a dead carcase behind."

In all these speculations the Anima Mundi plays a conspicuous part. It is the source and principle of all animal souls, including the irrational soul of man. But in man, who would otherwise be merely analogous to other terrestrial animals—this soul participates in a higher principle, which tends to raise and convert it to itself. To comprehend the nature of this union or hypostasis it would be necessary to have mastered the whole of Plato's philosophy as comprised in the Parmenides and the Timaeus; and he would dogmatize rashly who without this arduous preparation should claim Plato as the champion of an unconditional immortality. Certainly in the Phaedo the dialogue popularly supposed to contain all Plato's teaching on the subject—the immortality allotted to the impure soul is of a very questionable character, and we should rather infer from the account there given that the human personality, at all events, is lost by successive immersions into "matter." The following passage from Plutarch (quoted by Madame Blavatsky, "Isis Unveiled," vol. ii. p. 284) will at least demonstrate the antiquity of notions which have recently been mistaken for fanciful novelties. "Every soul hath some portion of nous, reason, a man cannot be a man without it; but as much of each soul as is mixed with flesh and appetite is changed, and through pain and pleasure becomes irrational. Every soul doth not mix herself after one sort; some plunge themselves into the body, and so in this life their whole frame is corrupted by appetite and passion; others are mixed as to some part, but the purer part still remains without the body. It is not drawn down into the body, but it swims above, and touches the extremest part of the man's head; it is like a cord to hold up and direct the subsiding part of the soul, as long as it proves obedient and is not overcome by the appetites of the flesh. The part that is plunged into the body is called soul. But the incorruptible part is called the nous, and the vulgar think it is within them, as they likewise imagine the image reflected from a glass to be in that glass. But the more intelligent, who know it to be without, call it a Daemon." And in the same learned work ("Isis Unveiled ") we have two Christian authorities, Irenaeus and Origen, cited for like distinction between spirit and soul in such a manner as to show that the former must necessarily be regarded as separable from the latter. In the distinction itself there is of course no novelty for the most moderately well-informed. It is insisted upon in many modern works, among which may be mentioned Heard's "Trichotomy of Man" and Green's "Spiritual Philosophy"; the latter being an exposition of Coleridge's opinion on this and cognate subjects. But the difficulty of regarding the two principles as separable in fact as well as in logic arises from the senses, if it is not the illusion of personal identity. That we are particle, and that one part only is immortal, the non-metaphysical mind rejects with the indignation which is always encountered by a proposition that is at once distasteful and unintelligible. Yet perhaps it is not a greater difficulty (if, indeed, it is not the very same) than that hard saying which troubled Nicodemus, and which has been the key-note of the mystical religious consciousness ever since. This, however, is too extensive and deep a question to be treated in this paper, which has for its object chiefly to call attention to the distinctions introduced by ancient thought into the conception of body as the instrument or "vehicle" of soul. That there is a correspondence between the spiritual condition of man and the medium of his objective activity every spiritualist will admit to be probable, and it may well be that some light is thrown on future states by the possibility or the manner of spirit communication with this one.

—C. C. Massey



The Nilgiri Sannyasis

I was told that Sannyasis were sometimes met with on a mountain called Velly Mallai Hills, in the Coimbatore District, and trying to meet with one, I determined to ascend this mountain. I traveled up its steep sides and arrived at an opening, narrow and low, into which I crept on all fours. Going up some twenty yards I reached a cave, into the opening of which I thrust my head and shoulders. I could see into it clearly, but felt a cold wind on my face, as if there was some opening or crevice—so I looked carefully, but could see nothing. The room was about twelve feet square. I did not go into it. I saw arranged round its sides stones one cubit long, all placed upright. I was much disappointed at there being no Sannyasi, and came back as I went, pushing myself backwards as there was no room to turn. I was then told Sannyasis had been met with in the dense sholas (thickets), and as my work lay often in such places, I determined to prosecute my search, and did so diligently, without, however, any success.

One day I contemplated a journey to Coimbatore on my own affairs, and was walking up the road trying to make a bargain with a handy man whom I desired to engage to carry me there; but as we could not come to terms, I parted with him and turned into the Lovedale Road at 6 P.M. I had not gone far when I met a man dressed like a Sannyasi, who stopped and spoke to me. He observed a ring on my finger and asked me to give it to him. I said he was welcome to it, but inquired what he would give me in return, he said, "I don't care particularly about it; I would rather have that flour and sugar in the bundle on your back." "I will give you that with pleasure," I said, and took down my bundle and gave it to him. "Half is enough for me," he said; but subsequently changing his mind added, "now let me see what is in your bundle," pointing to my other parcel. "I can't give you that." He said, "Why cannot you give me your swami (family idol)?" I said, "It is my swami, I will not part with it; rather take my life." On this he pressed me no more, but said, "Now you had better go home." I said, "I will not leave you." "Oh you must," he said, "you will die here of hunger." "Never mind," I said, "I can but die once." "You have no clothes to protect you from the wind and rain; you may meet with tigers," he said. "I don't care," I replied. "It is given to man once to die. What does it signify how he dies?" When I said this he took my hand and embraced me, and immediately I became unconscious. When I returned to consciousness, I found myself with the Sannyasi in a place new to me on a hill, near a large rock and with a big shola near. I saw in the shola right in front of us, that there was a pillar of fire, like a tree almost. I asked the Sannyasi what was that like a high fire. "Oh," he said, "most likely a tree ignited by some careless wood-cutters."

"No," I said, "it is not like any common fire—there is no smoke, nor are there flames—and it's not lurid and red. I want to go and see it." "No, you must not do so, you cannot go near that fire and escape alive." "Come with me then," I begged. "No—I cannot," he said, "if you wish to approach it, you must go alone and at your own risk; that tree is the tree of knowledge and from it flows the milk of life: whoever drinks this never hungers again." Thereupon I regarded the tree with awe.

I next observed five Sannyasis approaching. They came up and joined the one with me, entered into talk, and finally pulled out a hookah and began to smoke. They asked me if I could smoke. I said no. One of them said to me, let us see the swami in your bundle (here gives a description of the same). I said, "I cannot, I am not clean enough to do so." "Why not perform your ablutions in yonder stream?" they said. "If you sprinkle water on your forehead that will suffice." I went to wash my hands and feet, and laved my head, and showed it to them. Next they disappeared. "As it is very late, it is time you returned home," said my first friend. "No," I said, "now I have found you I will not leave you." "No, no," he said, "you must go home. You cannot leave the world yet; you are a father and a husband, and you must not neglect your worldly duties. Follow the footsteps of your late respected uncle; he did not neglect his worldly affairs, though he cared for the interests of his soul; you must go, but I will meet you again when you get your fortnightly holiday." On this he embraced me, and I again became unconscious. When I returned to myself, I found myself at the bottom of Col. Jones' Coffee Plantation above Coonor on a path. Here the Sannyasi wished me farewell, and pointing to the high road below, he said, "Now you will know your way home;" but I would not part from him. I said, "All this will appear a dream to me unless you will fix a day and promise to meet me here again." "I promise," he said. "No, promise me by an oath on the head of my idol." Again he promised, and touched the head of my idol. "Be here," he said, "this day fortnight." When the day came I anxiously kept my engagement and went and sat on the stone on the path. I waited a long time in vain. At last I said to myself, "I am deceived, he is not coming, he has broken his oath"—and with grief I made a poojah. Hardly had these thoughts passed my mind, than lo! he stood beside me. "Ah, you doubt me," he said; "why this grief." I fell at his feet and confessed I had doubted him and begged his forgiveness. He forgave and comforted me, and told me to keep in my good ways and he would always help me; and he told me and advised me about all my private affairs without my telling him one word, and he also gave me some medicines for a sick friend which I had promised to ask for but had forgotten. This medicine was given to my friend and he is perfectly well now.

A verbatim translation of a Settlement Officer's statement to

—E.H. Morgan



Witchcraft on the Nilgiris

Having lived many years (30) on the Nilgiris, employing the various tribes of the Hills on my estates, and speaking their languages, I have had many opportunities of observing their manners and customs and the frequent practice of Demonology and Witchcraft among them. On the slopes of the Nilgiris live several semi-wild people: 1st, the "Curumbers," who frequently hire themselves out to neighbouring estates, and are first-rate fellers of forest; 2nd, the "Tain" ("Honey Curumbers"), who collect and live largely on honey and roots, and who do not come into civilized parts; 3rd, the "Mulu" Curumbers, who are rare on the slopes of the hills, but common in Wynaad lower down the plateau. These use bows and arrows, are fond of hunting, and have frequently been known to kill tigers, rushing in a body on their game and discharging their arrows at a short distance. In their eagerness they frequently fall victims to this animal; but they are supposed to possess a controlling power over all wild animals, especially elephants and tigers; and the natives declare they have the power of assuming the forms of various beasts. Their aid is constantly invoked both by the Curumbers first named, and by the natives generally, when wishing to be revenged on an enemy.

Besides these varieties of Curumbers there are various other wild tribes I do not now mention, as they are not concerned in what I have to relate.

I had on my estate near Ootacamund a gang of young Badagas, some 30 young men, whom I had had in my service since they were children, and who had become most useful handy fellows. From week to week I missed one or another of them, and on inquiry was told they had been sick and were dead!

One market-day I met the Moneghar of the village to which my gang belonged and some of his men, returning home laden with their purchases. The moment he saw me he stopped, and coming up to me, said, "Mother, I am in great sorrow and trouble, tell me what I can do!" "Why, what is wrong?" I asked. "All my young men are dying, and I cannot help them, nor prevent it; they are under a spell of the wicked Curumbers who are killing them, and I am powerless." "Pray explain," I said; "why do the Curumbers behave in this way, and what do they do to your people?" "Oh, Madam, they are vile extortioners, always asking for money; we have given and given till we have no more to give. I told them we had no more money and then they said,—All right—as you please; we shall see. Surely as they say this, we know what will follow—at night when we are all asleep, we wake up suddenly and see a Curumber standing in our midst, in the middle of the room occupied by the young men." "Why do you not close and bolt your doors securely?" I interrupted. "What is the use of bolts and bars to them? they come through stone walls.... Our doors were secure, but nothing can keep out a Curumber. He points his finger at Mada, at Kurira, at Jogie—he utters no word, and as we look at him he vanishes! In a few days these three young men sicken, a low fever consumes them, their stomachs swell, they die. Eighteen young men, the flower of my village, have died thus this year. These effects always follow the visit of a Curumber at night." "Why not complain to the Government?" I said. "Ah, no use, who will catch them?" "Then give them the 200 rupees they ask this once on a solemn promise that they exact no more" "I suppose we must find the money somewhere," he said, turning sorrowfully away.

A Mr. K—-is the owner of a coffee estate near this, and like many other planters employs Burghers. On one occasion he went down the slopes of the hills after bison and other large game, taking some seven or eight Burghers with him as gun carriers (besides other things necessary in jungle-walking—axes to clear the way, knives and ropes, &c.). He found and severely wounded a fine elephant with tusks. Wishing to secure these, he proposed following up his quarry, but could not induce his Burghers to go deeper and further into the forests; they feared to meet the "Mula Curumbers" who lived thereabouts. For long he argued in vain, at last by dint of threats and promises he induced them to proceed, and as they met no one, their fears were allayed and they grew bolder, when suddenly coming on the elephant lying dead (oh, horror to them!), the beast was surrounded by a party of Mulu Curumbers busily engaged in cutting out the tusks, one of which they had already disengaged! The affrighted Burghers fell back, and nothing Mr. K—- could do or say would induce them to approach the elephant, which the Curumbers stoutly declared was theirs. They had killed him they said. They had very likely met him staggering under his wound and had finished him off. Mr. K—-was not likely to give up his game in this fashion. So walking threateningly to the Curumbers he compelled them to retire, and called to his Burghers at the same time. The Curumbers only said, "Just you DARE to touch that elephant," and retired. Mr. K—-thereupon cut out the remaining tusk himself, and slinging both on a pole with no little trouble, made his men carry them. He took all the blame on himself, showed them that they did not touch them, and finally declared he would stay there all night rather than lose the tusks. The idea of a night near the Mulu Curumbers was too much for the fears of the Burghers, and they finally took up the pole and tusks and walked home. From that day those men, all but one who probably carried the gun, sickened, walked about like spectres, doomed, pale and ghastly, and before the month was out all were dead men, with the one exception!

A few months ago, at the village of Ebanaud, a few miles from this, a fearful tragedy was enacted. The Moneghar or headman's child was sick unto death. This, following on several recent deaths, was attributed to the evil influences of a village of Curumbers hard by. The Burghers determined on the destruction of every soul of them. They procured the assistance of a Toda, as they invariably do on such occasions, as without one the Curumbers are supposed to be invulnerable. They proceeded to the Curumber village at night and set their huts on fire, and as the miserable inmates attempted to escape, flung them back into the flames or knocked them down with clubs. In the confusion one old woman escaped unobserved into the adjacent bushes. Next morning she gave notice to the authorities, and identified seven Burghers, among whom was the Moneghar or headman, and one Toda. As the murderers of her people they were all brought to trial in the Courts here,—except the headman, who died before he could be brought in—and were all sentenced and duly executed, that is, three Burghers and the Toda, who were proved principals in the murders.

Two years ago an almost identical occurrence took place at Kotaghery, with exactly similar results, but without the punishment entailed having any deterrent effect. They pleaded "justification," as witchcraft had been practiced on them. But our Government ignores all occult dealings and will not believe in the dread power in the land. They deal very differently with these matters in Russia, where, in a recent trial of a similar nature, the witchcraft was admitted as an extenuating circumstance and the culprits who had burnt a witch were all acquitted. All natives of whatever caste are well aware of these terrible powers and too often do they avail themselves of them—much oftener than any one has an idea of. One day as I was riding along I came upon a strange and ghastly object—a basket containing the bloody head of a black sheep, a cocoanut, 10 rupees in money, some rice and flowers. These smaller items I did not see, not caring to examine any closer; but I was told by some natives that those articles were to be found in the basket. The basket was placed at the apex of a triangle formed by three fine threads tied to three small sticks, so placed that any one approaching from the roads on either side had to stumble over the threads and receive the full effects of the deadly "Soonium" as the natives call it. On inquiry I learnt that it was usual to prepare such a "Soonium" when one lay sick unto death; as throwing it on another was the only means of rescuing the sick one, and woe to the unfortunate who broke a thread by stumbling over it!

—E.H. Morgan



Shamanism and Witchcraft Amongst the Kolarian Tribes

Having resided for some years amongst the Mimdas and Hos of Singbhoom, and Chutia Nagpur, my attention was drawn at times to customs differing a good deal in some ways, but having an evident affinity to those related of the Nilghiri "Curumbers" in Mrs. Morgan's article. I do not mean to say that the practices I am about to mention are confined simply to the Kolarian tribes, as I am aware both Oraons (a Dravidian tribe), and the different Hindu castes living side by side with the Kols, count many noted wizards among their number; but what little I have come to know of these curious customs, I have learnt among the Mimdas and Hos, some of the most celebrated practitioners among them being Christian converts. The people themselves say, that these practices are peculiar to their race, and not learnt from the Hindu invaders of their plateau; but I am inclined to think that some, at least, of the operations have a strong savour of the Tantric black magic about them, though practiced by people who are often entirely ignorant of any Hindu language.

These remarks must he supplemented by a short sketch of Kol ideas of worship. They have nothing that I have either seen or heard of in the shape of an image, but their periodical offerings are made to a number of elemental spirits, and they assign a genie to every rock or tree in the country, whom they do not consider altogether malignant, but who, if not duly "fed" or propitiated, may become so.

The Singbonga (lit., sun or light spirit) is the chief; Buru Bonga (spirit of the hills), and the Ikhir Bonga (spirit of the deep), come next. After these come the Darha, of which each family has its own, and they may be considered in the same light as Lares and Penates. But every threshing, flour and oil mill, has its spirit, who must be duly fed, else evil result may be expected. Their great festival (the Karam) is in honour of Singbonga and his assistants; the opening words of the priests' speech on that occasion, sufficiently indicate that they consider Singbonga, the creator of men and things. Munure Singbonga manokoa luekidkoa (In the beginning Singbonga made men).

Each village has its Sarna or sacred grove, where the hereditary priest from time to time performs sacrifices, to keep things prosperous; but this only relates to spirits actually connected with the village, the three greater spirits mentioned, being considered general, are only fed at intervals of three or more years, and always on a public road or other public place, and once every ten years a human being was (and as some will tell you is sacrificed to keep the whole community of spirits in good train.) The Pahans, or village priests, are regular servants of the spirits, and the najo, deona and bhagats are people who in some way are supposed to obtain an influence or command over them. The first and lowest grade of these adepts, called najos (which may be translated as practitioners of witchcraft pure and simple), are frequently women. They are accused, like the "Mula Curumbers," of demanding quantities of grain or loans of money, &c., from people, and when these demands are refused, they go away with a remark to the effect, "that you have lots of cattle and grain just now, but we'll see what they are like after a month or two." Then probably the cattle of the bewitched person will get some disease, and several of them die, or some person of his family will become ill or get hurt in some unaccountable way. Till at last, thoroughly frightened, the afflicted person takes a little uncooked rice and goes to a deona or mati (as he is called in the different vernaculars of the province)—the grade immediately above najo in knowledge—and promising him a reward if he will assist him, requests his aid; if the deona accedes to the request, the proceedings are as follows. The deona taking the oil brought, lights a small lamp and seats himself beside it with the rice in a surpa (winnower) in his hands. After looking intently at the lamp flame for a few minutes, he begins to sing a sort of chant of invocation in which all the spirits are named, and at the name of each spirit a few grains of rice are thrown into the lamp. When the flame at any particular name gives a jump and flares up high, the spirit concerned in the mischief is indicated. Then the deona takes a small portion of the rice wrapped up in a sal (Shorea robusta) leaf and proceeds to the nearest new white-ant nest from which he cuts the top off and lays the little bundle, half in and half out of the cavity. Having retired, he returns in about an hour to see if the rice is consumed, and according to the rapidity with which it is eaten he predicts the sacrifice which will appease the spirit. This ranges from a fowl to a buffalo, but whatever it may include, the pouring out of blood is an essential. It must be noted, however, that the mati never tells who the najo is who has excited the malignity of the spirit.

But the most important and lucrative part of a deona's business is the casting out of evil spirits, which operation is known variously as ashab and langhan. The sign of obsession is generally some mental alienation accompanied (in bad cases) by a combined trembling and restlessness of limbs, or an unaccountable swelling up of the body. Whatever the symptoms may be the mode of cure appears to be much the same. On such symptoms declaring themselves, the deona is brought to the house and is in the presence of the sick man and his friends provided with some rice in a surpa, some oil, a little vermilion, and the deona produces from his own person a little powdered sulphur and an iron tube about four inches long and two tikli.* Before the proceedings begin all the things mentioned are touched with vermilion, a small quantity of which is also mixed with the rice. Three or four grains of rice and one of the tikli being put into the tube, a lamp is then lighted beside the sick man and the deona begins his chant, throwing grains of rice at each name, and when the flame flares up, a little of the powdered sulphur is thrown into the lamp and a little on the sick man, who thereupon becomes convulsed, is shaken all over and talks deliriously, the deona's chant growing louder all the while. Suddenly the convulsions and the chant cease, and the deona carefully takes up a little of the sulphur off the man's body and puts into the tube, which he then seals with the second tikli. The deona and one of the man's friends then leave the hut, taking the iron tube and rice with them, the spirit being now supposed out of the man and bottled up in the iron tube. They hurry across country until they leave the hut some miles behind. Then they go to the edge of some tank or river, to some place they know to be frequented by people for the purposes of bathing, &c., where, after some further ceremony, the iron is stuck into the ground and left there. This is done with the benevolent intention that the spirit may transfer its attentions to the unfortunate person who may happen to touch it while bathing. I am told the spirit in this case usually chooses a young and healthy person. Should the deona think the spirit has not been able to suit itself with a new receptacle, he repairs to where a bazaar is taking place and there (after some ceremony) he mixes with the crowd, and taking a grain of the reddened rice jerks it with his forefinger and thumb in such a way that without attracting attention it falls on the person or clothes of some. This is done several times to make certain. Then the deona declares he has done his work, and is usually treated to the best dinner the sick man's friends can afford. It is said that the person to whom the spirit by either of these methods is transferred may not be affected for weeks or even months. But some fine day while he is at his work, he will suddenly stop, wheel round two or three times on his heels and fall down more or less convulsed, from that time forward he will begin to be troubled in the same way as his dis-obsessed predecessor was.

———— * Tikli is a circular piece of gilt paper which is stuck on between the eyebrows of the women of the Province as ornament. ————

Having thus given some account of the deona, we now come to the bhagat, called by the Hindus sokha and sivnath. This is the highest grade of all, and, as I ought to have mentioned before, the 'ilm (knowledge) of both the deona and bhagat grades is only to be learned by becoming a regular chela of a practitioner; but I am given to understand that the final initiation is much hastened by a seasonable liberality on the part of the chela. During the initiation of the sokha certain ceremonies are performed at night by aid of a human corpse, this is one of the things which has led me to think that this part at least of these practices is connected with Tantric black magic.

The bhagat performs two distinct functions: (1st), a kind of divination called bhao (the same in Hindi), and (2nd), a kind of Shamanism called darasta in Hindi, and bharotan in Horokaji, which, however, is resorted to only on very grave occasions—as, for instance, when several families think they are bewitched at one time and by the same najo.

The bhao is performed as follows:—The person having some query to propound, makes a small dish out of a sal leaf and puts in it a little uncooked rice and a few pice; he then proceeds to the bhagat and lays before him the leaf and its contents, propounding at the same time his query. The bhagat then directs him to go out and gather two golaichi (varieties of Posinia) flowers (such practitioners usually having a golaichi tree close to their abodes); after the flowers are brought the bhagat seats himself with the rice close to the inquirer, and after some consideration selects one of the flowers, and holding it by the stalk at about a foot from his eyes in his left hand twirls it between his thumb and fingers, occasionally with his right hand dropping on it a grain or two of rice.* In a few minutes his eyes close and he begins to talk— usually about things having nothing to do with the question in hand, but after a few minutes of this, he suddenly yells out an answer to the question, and without another word retires. The inquirer takes his meaning as he can from the answer, which, I believe, is always ambiguous.

————- * This is the process by which the bhagat mesmerizes himself. ————-

The bharotan as I have above remarked is only resorted to when a matter of grave import has to be inquired about; the bhagat makes a high charge for a seance of this description. We will fancy that three or four families in a village consider themselves bewitched by a najo, and they resolve to have recourse to a bhagat to find out who the witch is; with this view a day is fixed on, and two delegates are procured from each of five neighbouring villages, who accompany the afflicted people to the house of the bhagat, taking with them a dali or offering, consisting of vegetables, which on arrival is formally presented to him. Two delegates are posted at each of the four points of the compass, and the other two sent themselves with the afflicted parties to the right of the bhagat, who occupies the centre of the apartment with four or five chelas, a clear space being reserved on the left. One chela then brings a small earthenware-pot full of lighted charcoal, which is set before the bhagat with a pile of mango wood chips and a ball composed of dhunia (resin of Shorea robusta), gur (treacle), and ghee (clarified butter), and possibly other ingredients. The bhagat's sole attire consists of a scanty lenguti (waist-cloth), a necklace of the large wooden beads such as are usually worn by fakeers, and several garlands of golaichi flowers round his neck, his hair being unusually long and matted. Beside him stuck in the ground is his staff. One chela stands over the firepot with a bamboo-mat fan in his hand, another takes charge of the pile of chips, and a third of the ball of composition, and one or two others seat themselves behind the bhagat, with drums and other musical instruments in their hands. All being in readiness, the afflicted ones are requested to state their grievance. This they do, and pray the bhagat to call before him the najo, who has stirred up the spirits to afflict them, in order that he may be punished. The bhagat then gives a sign to his chelas, those behind him raise a furious din with their instruments, the fire is fed with chips, and a bit of the composition is put on it from time to time, producing a volume of thick greyish-blue smoke; this is carefully fanned over, and towards the bhagat, who, when well wrapped in smoke, closes his eyes and quietly swaying his body begins a low chant. The chant gradually becomes louder and the sway of his body more pronounced, until he works himself into a state of complete frenzy. Then with his body actually quivering, and his head rapidly working about from side to side, he sings in a loud voice how a certain najo (whom he names) had asked money of those people and was refused, and how he stirred up certain spirits (whom he also names) to hurt them, how they killed so and so's bullocks, some one else's sheep, and caused another's child to fall ill. Then he begins to call on the najo to come and answer for his doings, and in doing so rises to his feet—still commanding the najo to appear; meanwhile he reels about; then falls on the ground and is quite still except for an occasional whine, and a muttered, "I see him!" "He is coming!" This state may last for an hour or more till at last the bhagat sits up and announces the najo has come; as he says so, a man, apparently mad with drink, rushes in and falls with his head towards the bhagat moaning and making a sort of snorting as if half stifled. In this person the bewitched parties often recognize a neighbour and sometimes even a relation, but whoever he may be they have bound themselves to punish him. The bhagat then speaks to him and tells him to confess, at the same time threatening him, in case of refusal, with his staff. He then confesses in a half-stupefied manner, and his confession tallies with what the bhagat has told in his frenzy. The najo is then dismissed and runs out of the house in the same hurry as he came in. The delegates then hold a council at which the najo usually is sentenced to a fine—often heavy enough to ruin him—and expelled from his village. Before the British rule the convicted najo seldom escaped with his life, and during the mutiny time, when no Englishmen were about, the Singbhoom Hos paid off a large number of old scores of this sort. For record of which, see "Statistical Account of Bengal," vol. xvii. p. 52.

In conclusion I have merely to add that I have derived this information from people who have been actually concerned in these occurrences, and among others a man belonging to a village of my own, who was convicted and expelled from the village with the loss of all his movable property, and one of his victims, a relation of his, sat by me when the above was being written.

—E.D. Ewen



Mahatmas and Chelas

A Mahatma is an individual who, by special training and education, has evolved those higher faculties, and has attained that spiritual knowledge, which ordinary humanity will acquire after passing through numberless series of re-incarnations during the process of cosmic evolution, provided, of course, that they do not go, in the meanwhile, against the purposes of Nature and thus bring on their own annihilation. This process of the self-evolution of the MAHATMA extends over a number of "incarnations," although, comparatively speaking, they are very few. Now, what is it that incarnates? The occult doctrine, so far as it is given out, shows that the first three principles die more or less with what is called the physical death. The fourth principle, together with the lower portions of the fifth, in which reside the animal propensities, has Kama Loka for its abode, where it suffers the throes of disintegration in proportion to the intensity of those lower desires; while it is the higher Manas, the pure man, which is associated with the sixth and seventh principles, that goes into Devachan to enjoy there the effects of its good Karma, and then to be reincarnated as a higher personality. Now an entity that is passing through the occult training in its successive births, gradually has less and less (in each incarnation) of that lower Manas until there arrives a time when its whole Manas, being of an entirely elevated character, is centred in the individuality, when such a person may be said to have become a MAHATMA. At the time of his physical death, all the lower four principles perish without any suffering, for these are, in fact, to him like a piece of wearing apparel which he puts on and off at will. The real MAHATMA is then not his physical body but that higher Manas which is inseparably linked to the Atma and its vehicle (the sixth principle)—a union effected by him in a comparatively very short period by passing through the process of self-evolution laid down by Occult Philosophy. When therefore, people express a desire to "see a MAHATMA," they really do not seem to understand what it is they ask for. How can they, with their physical eyes, hope to see that which transcends that sight? Is it the body—a mere shell or mask—they crave or hunt after? And supposing they see the body of a MAHATMA, how can they know that behind that mask is concealed an exalted entity? By what standard are they to judge whether the Maya before them reflects the image of a true MAHATMA or not? And who will say that the physical is not a Maya? Higher things can be perceived only by a sense pertaining to those higher things; whoever therefore wants to see the real MAHATMA, must use his intellectual sight. He must so elevate his Manas that its perception will be clear and all mists created by Maya be dispelled. His vision will then be bright and he will see the MAHATMA wherever he may be, for, being merged into the sixth and the seventh principles, which know no distance, the MAHATMA may be said to be everywhere. But, at the same time, just as we may be standing on a mountain top and have within our sight the whole plain, and yet not be cognizant of any particular tree or spot, because from that elevated position all below is nearly identical, and as our attention may be drawn to something which may be dissimilar to its surroundings—in the same manner, although the whole of humanity is within the mental vision of the MAHATMA, he cannot be expected to take special note of every human being, unless that being by his special acts draws particular attention to himself. The highest interest of humanity, as a whole, is the MAHATMA's special concern, for he has identified himself with that Universal Soul which runs through Humanity; and to draw his attention one must do so through that Soul. This perception of the Manas may be called "faith" which should not be confounded with blind belief. "Blind faith" is an expression sometimes used to indicate belief without perception or understanding; while the true perception of the Manas is that enlightened belief which is the real meaning of the word "faith." This belief should at the same time be accompanied by knowledge, i.e., experience, for "true knowledge brings with it faith." Faith is the perception of the Manas (the fifth principle), while knowledge, in the true sense of the term, is the capacity of the Intellect, i.e., it is spiritual perception. In short, the individuality of man, composed of his higher Manas, the sixth and the seventh principle, should work as a unity, and then only can it obtain "divine wisdom," for divine things can be sensed only by divine faculties. Thus a chela should be actuated solely by a desire to understand the operations of the Law of Cosmic Evolution, so as to be able to work in conscious and harmonious accord with Nature.

—Anon.



The Brahmanical Thread

I. The general term for the investiture of this thread is Upanayana; and the invested is called Upanita, which signifies brought or drawn near (to one's Guru), i.e., the thread is the symbol of the wearer's condition.

II. One of the names of this thread is Yajna-Sutra. Yajna means Brahma, or the Supreme Spirit, and Sutra the thread, or tie. Collectively, the compound word signifies that which ties a man to his spirit or god. It consists of three yarns twisted into one thread, and three of such threads formed and knotted into a circle. Every Theosophist knows what a circle signifies and it need not be repeated here. He will easily understand the rest and the relation they have to mystic initiation. The yarns signify the great principle of "three in one, and one in three," thus:—The first trinity consists of Atma which comprises the three attributes of Manas, Buddhi, and Ahankara (the mind, the intelligence, and the egotism). The Manas again, has the three qualities of Satva, Raja, and Tama (goodness, foulness, and darkness). Buddhi has the three attributes of Pratyaksha, Upamiti and Anumiti (perception, analogy, and inference). Ahankara also has three attributes, viz., Jnata, Jneya, and Jnan (the knower, the known, and the knowledge).

III. Another name of the sacred thread is Tri-dandi. Tri means three, and Danda, chastisement, correction, or conquest. This reminds the holder of the three great "corrections" or conquests he has to accomplish. These are:—(1) the Vakya Sanyama;* (2) the Manas Sanyama; and (3) the Indriya (or Deha) Sanyama. Vakya is speech, Manas, mind, and Deha (literally, body) or Indriya, is the senses. The three conquests therefore mean the control over one's speech, thought, and action.

———— * Danda and Sanyama are synonymous terms.—A.S. ————-

This thread is also the reminder to the man of his secular duties, and its material varies, in consequence, according to the occupation of the wearer. Thus, while the thread of the Brahmans is made of pure cotton, that of the Kshatriyas (the warriors) is composed of flax—the bow-string material; and that of Vaishyas (the traders and cattle-breeders), of wool. From this it is not to be inferred that caste was originally meant to be hereditary. In the ancient times, it depended on the qualities of the man. Irrespective of the caste of his parents, a man could, according to his merit or otherwise, raise or lower himself from one caste to another; and instances are not wanting in which a man has elevated himself to the position of the highest Brahman (such as Vishvamitra Rishi, Parasara, Vyasa, Satyakam, and others) from the very lowest of the four castes. The sayings of Yudhishthira on this subject, in reply to the questions of the great serpent, in the Arannya Parva of the Maha-Bharata, and of Manu, on the same point, are well known and need nothing more than bare reference. Both Manu and Maha-Bharata—the fulcrums of Hinduism—distinctly affirm that a man can translate himself from one caste to another by his merit, irrespective of his parentage.

The day is fast approaching when the so-called Brahmans will have to show cause, before the tribunal of the Aryan Rishis, why they should not be divested of the thread which they do not at all deserve, but are degrading by misuse. Then alone will the people appreciate the privilege of wearing it.

There are many examples of the highest distinctive insignia being worn by the unworthy. The aristocracies of Europe and Asia teem with such.

—A. Sarman



Reading in a Sealed Envelope

Some years ago, a Brahman astrologer named Vencata Narasimla Josi, a native of the village of Periasamudram in the Mysore Provinces, came to the little town in the Bellary District where I was then employed. He was a good Sanskrit, Telugu and Canarese poet, and an excellent master of Vedic rituals; knew the Hindu system of astronomy, and professed to be an astrologer. Besides all this, he possessed the power of reading what was contained in any sealed envelope. The process adopted for this purpose was simply this:—We wrote whatever we chose on a piece of paper; enclosed it in one, two or three envelopes, each properly gummed and sealed, and handed the cover to the astrologer. He asked us to name a figure between 1 and 9, and on its being named, he retired with the envelope to some secluded place for some time; and then he returned with a paper full of figures, and another paper containing a copy of what was on the sealed paper—exactly, letter for letter and word for word. I tried him often and many others did the same; and we were all satisfied that he was invariably accurate, and that there was no deception whatsoever in the matter.

About this time, one Mr. Theyagaraja Mudalyar, a supervisor in the Public Works Department, an English scholar and a good Sanskrit and Telugu poet, arrived at our place on his periodical tour of inspection. Having heard about the aforesaid astrologer, he wanted to test him in a manner, most satisfactory to himself. One morning handing to the astrologer a very indifferently gummed envelope, he said, "Here, Sir, take this letter home with you and come back to me with your copy in the afternoon." This loose way of closing the envelope, and the permission given to the astrologer to take it home for several hours, surprised the Brahman, who said, "I don't want to go home. Seal the cover better, and give me the use of some room here. I shall be ready with my copy very soon." "No," said the Mudalyar, "take it as it is, and come back whenever you like. I have the means of finding out the deception, if any be practiced."

So then the astrologer went with the envelope; and returned to the Mudalyar's place in the afternoon. Myself and about twenty others were present there by appointment. The astrologer then carefully handed the cover to the Mudalyar, desiring him to see if it was all right. "Don't mind that," the Mudalyar answered; "I can find out the trick, if there be any. Produce your copy." The astrologer thereupon presented to the Mudalyar a paper on which four lines were written and stated that this was a copy of the paper enclosed in the Mudalyar's envelope. Those four lines formed a portion of an antiquated poem.

The Mudalyar read the paper once, then read it over again. Extreme satisfaction beamed over his countenance, and he sat mute for some seconds seemingly in utter astonishment. But soon after, the expression of his face changing, he opened the envelope and threw the enclosure down, jocularly saying to the astrologer, "Here, Sir, is the original of which you have produced the copy."

The paper lay upon the carpet, and was quite blank! not a word, nor a letter on its clean surface.

This was a sad disappointment to all his admirers; but to the astrologer himself, it was a real thunderbolt. He picked up the paper pensively, examined it on both sides, then dashed it on the ground in a fury; and suddenly arising, exclaimed, "My Vidya* is a delusion, and I am a liar!"

————- * Secret knowledge, magic. ————-

The subsequent behaviour of the poor man made us fear lest this great disappointment should drive him to commit some desperate act. In fact he seemed determined to drown himself in the well, saying that he was dishonoured. While we were trying to console him, the Mudalyar came forward, caught hold of his hands, and besought him to sit down and calmly listen to his explanation, assuring him that he was not a liar, and that his copy was perfectly accurate. But the astrologer would not be satisfied; he supposed that all this was said simply to console him; and cursed himself and his fate most horribly. However, in a few minutes he became calmer and listened to the Mudalyar's explanation, which was in substance as follows The only way for the sceptic to account for this phenomenon, is to suppose that the astrologer opened the covers dexterously and read their contents. "So," he said, "I wrote four lines of old poetry on the paper with nitrate of silver, which would be invisible until exposed to the light; and this would have disclosed the astrologer's fraud, if he had tried to find out the contents of the enclosed paper, by opening the cover, however ingeniously. For, if he opened it and looked at the paper, he would have seen that it was blank, resealed the cover, and declared that the paper enveloped therein bore no writing whatever; or if he had, by design or accident, exposed the paper to light, the writing would have become black; and he would have produced a copy of it as if it were the result of his own Vidya; but in either case and the writing remaining, his deception would have been clear, and it would have been patent to all that he did open the envelope. But in the present case, the result proved conclusively that the cover was not opened at all."

—P. Sreeneevas Row



The Twelve Signs of the Zodiac

The division of the Zodiac into different signs dates from immemorial antiquity. It has acquired a world-wide celebrity and is to be found in the astrological systems of several nations. The invention of the Zodiac and its signs has been assigned to different nations by different antiquarians. It is stated by some that, at first, there were only ten signs, that one of these signs was subsequently split up into two separate signs, and that a new sign was added to the number to render the esoteric significance of the division more profound, and at the same time to conceal it more perfectly from the uninitiated public. It is very probable that the real philosophical conception of the division owes its origin to some particular nation, and the names given to the various signs might have been translated into the languages of other nations. The principal object of this article, however, is not to decide which nation had the honour of inventing the signs in question, but to indicate to some extent the real philosophical meaning involved therein, and the way to discover the rest of the meaning which yet remains undisclosed. But from what is herein stated, an inference may fairly be drawn that, like so many other philosophical myths and allegories, the invention of the Zodiac and its signs owes its origin to ancient India.

What then is its real origin, what is the philosophical conception which the Zodiac and its signs are intended to represent? Do the various signs merely indicate the shape or configuration of the different constellations included in the divisions, or, are they simply masks designed to veil some hidden meaning? The former supposition is altogether untenable for two reasons, viz.:—

I. The Hindus were acquainted with the precession of the equinoxes, as may he easily seen from their work on Astronomy, and from the almanacs published by Hindu astronomers. Consequently they were fully aware of the fact that the constellations in the various Zodiacal divisions were not fixed. They could not, therefore, have assigned particular shapes to these shifting groups of fixed stars with reference to the divisions of the Zodiac. But the names indicating the Zodiacal signs have all along remained unaltered. It is to be inferred, therefore, that the names given to the various signs have no connection whatever with the configurations of the constellations included in them.

II. The names assigned to these signs by the ancient Sanskrit writers and their exoteric or literal meanings are as follows:—

The Names of the Signs ....... Their Exoteric or Literal Meanings

1. Mesha ........................... Ram, or Aries. 2. Rishabha .......................Bull, or Taurus. 3. Mithunam ................... Twins, or Gemini (male and female). 4. Karkataka ...................... Crab, or Cancer. 5. Simha .............................. Lion, or Leo. 6. Kanya ............................. Virgin or Virgo.* 7. Tula .......................... Balance, or Libra. 8. Vrischika ..................... Scorpion, or Scorpio. 9. Dhanus ....................... Archer, or Sagittarius. 10. Makara ........... The Goat, or Capricornus (Crocodile, in Sanskrit). 11. Kumbha .................. Water-bearer, or Aquarius. 12. Meenam ................. Fishes, or Pisces.

The figures of the constellations included in the signs at the time the division was first made do not at all resemble the shapes of the animals, reptiles and other objects denoted by the names given them. The truth of this assertion can be ascertained by examining the configurations of the various constellations. Unless the shape of the crocodile** or the crab is called up by the observer's imagination, there is very little chance of the stars themselves suggesting to his idea that figure, upon the blue canopy of the starry firmament.

———— * Virgo-Scorpio, when none but the initiates knew there were twelve signs. Virgo-Scorpio was then followed for the profane by Sagittarius. At the middle or junction-point where now stands Libra and at the sign now called Virgo, two mystical signs were inserted which remained unintelligible to the profane.—Ed. Theos.

** This constellation was never called Crocodile by the ancient Western astronomers, who described it as a horned goat and called it so— Capricornus.—Ed. Theos. ————

If, then, the constellations have nothing to do with the origin of the names by which the Zodiacal divisions are indicated, we have to seek for some other source which might have given rise to these appellations. It becomes my object to unravel a portion of the mystery connected with these Zodiacal signs, as also to disclose a portion of the sublime conception of the ancient Hindu philosophy which gave rise to them. The signs of the Zodiac have more than one meaning. From one point of view they represent the different stages of evolution up to the time the present material universe with the five elements came into phenomenal existence. As the author of "Isis Unveiled" has stated in the second volume of her admirable work, "The key should be turned seven times" to understand the whole philosophy underlying these signs. But I shall wind it only once and give the contents of the first chapter of the History of Evolution. It is very fortunate that the Sanskrit names assigned to the various divisions by Aryan philosophers contain within themselves the key to the solution of the problem. Those of my readers who have studied to some extent the ancient "Mantra" and the "Tantra Sastras" * of India, would have seen that very often Sanskrit words are made to convey a certain hidden meaning by means of well-known pre-arranged methods and a tacit convention, while their literal significance is something quite different from the implied meaning.

————- * Works on Incantation and Magic. ————-

The following are some of the rules which may help an inquirer in ferreting out the deep significance of ancient Sanskrit nomenclature to be found in the old Aryan myths and allegories:

1. Find out the synonyms of the word used which have other meanings.

2. Find out the numerical value of the letters composing the word according to the methods given in ancient Tantrika works.

3. Examine the ancient myths or allegories, if there are any, which have any special connection with the word in question.

4. Permute the different syllables composing the word and examine the new combinations that will thus be formed and their meanings, &c. &c.

I shall now apply some of the above given rules to the names of the twelve signs of the Zodiac.

I. Mesha.—One of the synonyms of this word is Aja. Now, Aja literally means that which has no birth, and is applied to the Eternal Brahma in certain portions of the Upanishads. So, the first sign is intended to represent Parabrahma, the self-existent, eternal, self-sufficient cause of all.

II. Rishabham.—This word is used in several places in the Upanishads and the Veda to mean Pranava (Aum). Sankaracharya has so interpreted it in several portions of his commentary.*

———— * Example, "Rishabhasya—Chandasam Rishabhasya Pradhanasya Pranavasya." ————

III. Mithuna.—As the word plainly indicates, this sign is intended to represent the first androgyne, the Ardhanareeswara, the bisexual Sephira—Adam Kadmon.

IV. Karkataka.—When the syllables are converted into the corresponding numbers, according to the general mode of transmutation so often alluded to in Mantra Shastra, the word in question will be represented by ////. This sign then is evidently intended to represent the sacred Tetragram; the Parabrahmadharaka; the Pranava resolved into four separate entities corresponding to its four Matras; the four Avasthas indicated by Jagrata (waking) Avastha, Swapna (dreaming) Avastha, Sushupti (deep sleep) Avastha, and Turiya (the last stage, i.e., Nirvana) Avastha (as yet in potentiality); the four states of Brahma called Vaiswanara, Taijasa (or Hiranyagarbha), Pragna, and Iswara, and represented by Brahma, Vishna, Maheswara, and Sadasiva; the four aspects of Parabrahma, as Sthula (gross), Sukshma (subtle), Vija (seed), and Sakshi (witness); the four stages or conditions of the Sacred Word, named Para, Pasyanti, Madhyama and Vaikhari; Nadam, Bindu, Sakti and Kala. This sign completes the first quaternary.

V. Simha.—This word contains a world of occult meaning within itself; and it may not be prudent on my part to disclose the whole of its meaning now. It will be sufficient for the present purpose to give a general indication of its significance.

Two of its synonymous terms are Panchasyam and Hari, and its number in the order of the Zodiacal divisions (being the fifth sign) points clearly to the former synonym. This synonym—Panchasyam—shows that the sign is intended to represent the five Brahmas—viz., Isanam, Aghoram, Tatpurusham, Vamadevam, and Sadyojatam:—the five Buddhas. The second synonym shows it to be Narayana, the Jivatma or Pratyagatma. The Sukarahasy Upanishad will show that the ancient Aryan philosophers looked upon Narayana as the Jivatma.* The Vaishnavites may not admit it. But as an Advaiti, I look upon Jivatma as identical with Paramatma in its real essence when stripped of its illusory attributes created by Agnanam or Avidya—ignorance.

————- * In its lowest or most material state, as the life-principle which animates the material bodies of the animal and vegetable worlds, &c. —Ed. Theos. ————-

The Jivatma is correctly placed in the fifth sign counting from Mesham, as the fifth sign is the putrasthanam or the son's house according to the rules of Hindu Astrology. The sign in question represents Jivatma— the son of Paramatma as it were. (I may also add that it represents the real Christ, the anointed pure spirit, though many Christians may frown at this interpretation.)* I will only add here that unless the nature of this sign is fully comprehended it will be impossible to understand the real order of the next three signs and their full significance. The elements or entities that have merely a potential existence in this sign become distinct separate entities in the next three signs. Their union into a single entity leads to the destruction of the phenomenal universe, and the recognition of the pure Spirit and their separation has the contrary effect. It leads to material earth-bound existence and brings into view the picture gallery of Avidya (Ignorance) or Maya (Illusion). If the real orthography of the name by which the sign in question is indicated is properly understood, it will readily be seen that the next three signs are not what they ought to be.

———— * Nevertheless it is a true one. The Jiv-atma in the Microcosm (man) is the same spiritual essence which animates the Macrocosm (universe), the differentiation, or specific difference between the two Jivatmas presenting itself but in the two states or conditions of the same and one Force. Hence, "this son of Paramatma" is an eternal correlation of the Father-Cause. Purusha manifesting himself as Brahma of the "golden egg" and becoming Viradja—the universe. We are "all born of Aditi from the water" (Hymns of the Maruts, X. 63, 2), and "Being was born from not-being" (Rig-Veda, Mandala I, Sukta 166).—Ed. Theos. —————-

Kanya or Virgo and Vrischika or Scorpio should form one single sign, and Thula must follow the said sign if it is at all necessary to have a separate sign of that name. But a separation between Kanya and Vrischika was effected by interposing the sign Tula between the two. The object of this separation will be understood on examining the meaning of the three signs.

VI. Kanya.—Means a virgin and represents Sakti or Mahamaya. The sign in question is the sixth Rasi or division, and indicates that there are six primary forces in Nature. These forces have different sets of names in Sanskrit philosophy. According to one system of nomenclature, they are called by the following names*:—(1) Parasakty; (2) Gnanasakti; (3) Itchasakti (will-power); (4) Kriytisakti; (5) Kundalinisakti; and (6) Matrikasakti. The six forces are in their unity represented by the Astral Light.**

————- * Parasakti:—Literally the great or supreme force or power. It means and includes the powers of light and heat.

Gnanasakti:—Literally the power of intellect or the power of real wisdom or knowledge. It has two aspects.

I. The following are some of its manifestations when placed under the influence or control of material conditions.

(a) The power of the mind in interpreting our sensations; (b) Its power in recalling past ideas (memory) and raising future expectation; (c) Its power as exhibited in what are called by modern psychologists "the laws of association," which enables it to form persisting connections between various groups of sensations and possibilities of sensations, and thus generate the notion or idea of an external object; (d) Its power in connecting our ideas together by the mysterious link of memory, and thus generating the notion of self or individuality.

II. The following are some of its manifestations when liberated from the bonds of matter:—

(a) Clairvoyance. (b) Pyschometry.

Itchasakti:—Literally the power of the will. Its most ordinary manifestation is the generation of certain nerve currents which set in motion such muscles as are required for the accomplishment of the desired object.

Kriyasakti:—The mysterious power of thought which enables it to produce external, perceptible, phenomenal results by its own inherent energy. The ancients held that any idea will manifest itself externally if one's attention is deeply concentrated upon it. Similarly an intense volition will be followed by the desired result.

A Yogi generally performs his wonders by means of Itchasakti and Kriyasakti.

Kundalinisakti:—Literally the power or force which moves in a serpentine or curved path. It is the universal life-principle which everywhere manifests itself in Nature. This force includes in itself the two great forces of attraction and repulsion. Electricity and magnetism are but manifestations of it. This is the power or force which brings about that "continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations" which is the essence of life according to Herbert Spencer, and that "continuous adjustment of external relations to internal relations" which is the basis of transmigration of souls or punarjanmam (re-birth) according to the doctrines of the ancient Hindu philosophers.

A Yogi must thoroughly subjugate this power or force before he can attain moksham. This force is, in fact, the great serpent of the Bible.

Matrikasakti:—Literally the force or power of letters or speech or music. The whole of the ancient Mantra Shastra has this force or power in all its manifestations for its subject-matter. The power of The Word which Jesus Christ speaks of is a manifestation of this Sakti. The influence of its music is one of its ordinary manifestations. The power of the mirific ineffable name is the crown of this Sakti.

Modern science has but partly investigated the first, second and fifth of the forces or powers above named, but it is altogether in the dark as regards the remaining powers.

** Even the very name of Kanya (Virgin) shows how all the ancient esoteric systems agreed in all their fundamental doctrines. The Kabalists and the Hermetic philosophers call the Astral Light the "heavenly or celestial Virgin." The Astral Light in its unity is the 7th. Hence the seven principles diffused in every unity or the 6 and one—two triangles and a crown.—Ed. Theos. —————-

VII. Tula.—When represented by numbers according to the method above alluded to, this word will be converted into 36. This sign, therefore, is evidently intended to represent the 36 Tatwams. (The number of Tatwams is different according to the views of different philosophers but by Sakteyas generally and by several of the ancient Rishis, such as Agastya, Dvrasa and Parasurama, &c., the number of Tatwams has been stated to be 36). Jivatma differs from Paramatma, or to state the same thing in other words, "Baddha" differs from "Mukta" * in being encased as it were within these 36 Tatwams, while the other is free. This sign prepares the way to earthly Adam to Nara. As the emblem of Nara it is properly placed as the seventh sign.

————- * As the Infinite differs from the Finite and the Unconditioned from the Conditioned.—Ed. Theos. ————-

VIII. Vrischika.—It is stated by ancient philosophers that the sun when located in this Rasi or sign is called by the name of Vishnu (see the 12th Skandha of Bhagavata). This sign is intended to represent Vishnu. Vishnu literally means that which is expanded—expanded as Viswam or Universe. Properly speaking, Viswam itself is Vishnu (see Sankaracharya's commentary on Vishnusahasranamam). I have already intimated that Vishnu represents the Swapnavastha or the Dreaming State. The sign in question properly signifies the universe in thought or the universe in the divine conception.

It is properly placed as the sign opposite to Rishabham or Pranava. Analysis from Pranava downwards leads to the Universe of Thought, and synthesis from the latter upwards leads to Pranava (Aum). We have now arrived at the ideal state of the universe previous to its coming into material existence. The expansion of the Vija or primitive germ into the universe is only possible when the 36 "Tatwams" * are interposed between the Maya and Jivatma. The dreaming state is induced through the instrumentality of these "Tatwams." It is the existence of these Tatwams that brings Hamsa into existence. The elimination of these Tatwams marks the beginning of the synthesis towards Pranava and Brahmam and converts Hamsa into Soham. As it is intended to represent the different stages of evolution from Brahmam downwards to the material universe, the three signs Kanya, Tula, and Vrischika are placed in the order in which they now stand as three separate signs.

IX. Dhanus (Sagittarius).—When represented in numbers the name is equivalent to 9, and the division in question is the 9th division counting from Mesha. The sign, therefore, clearly indicates the 9 Brahmas—the 9 Parajapatis who assisted the Demiurgus in constructing the material universe.

X. Makara.—There is some difficulty in interpreting this word; nevertheless it contains within itself the clue to its correct interpretation. The letter Ma is equivalent to number 5, and Kara means hand. Now in Sanskrit Thribhujam means a triangle, bhujam or karam (both are synonymous) being understood to mean a side. So, Makaram or Panchakaram means a Pentagon.**

————— * 36 is three times 12, or 9 Tetraktis, or 12 Triads, the most sacred number in the Kabalistic and Pythagorean numerals.—Ed. Theos.

** The five-pointed star or pentagram represented the five limbs of man.—Ed. Theos. —————

Now, Makaram is the tenth sign, and the term "Dasadisa" is generally used by Sanskrit writers to denote the faces or sides of the universe. The sign in question is intended to represent the faces of the universe, and indicates that the figure of the universe is bounded by Pentagons. If we take the pentagons as regular pentagons (on the presumption or supposition that the universe is symmetrically constructed) the figure of the material universe will, of course, be a Dodecahedron, the geometrical model imitated by the Demiurgus in constructing the material universe. If Tula was subsequently invented, and if instead of the three signs "Kanya," "Tula," and "Vrischikam," there had existed formerly only one sign combining in itself Kanya and Vrischika, the sign now under consideration was the eighth sign under the old system, and it is a significant fact that Sanskrit writers generally speak also of "Ashtadisa" or eight faces bounding space. It is quite possible that the number of disa might have been altered from 8 to 10 when the formerly existing Virgo-Scorpio was split up into three separate signs.

Again, Kara may be taken to represent the projecting triangles of the five-pointed star. This figure may also be called a kind of regular pentagon (see Todhunter's "Spherical Trigonometry," p. 143). If this interpretation is accepted, the Rasi or sign in question represents the "microcosm." But the "microcosm" or the world of thought is really represented by Vrischika. From an objective point of view the "microcosm" is represented by the human body. Makaram may be taken to represent simultaneously both the microcosm and the macrocosm, as external objects of perception.

In connection with this sign I shall state a few important facts which I beg to submit for the consideration of those who are interested in examining the ancient occult sciences of India. It is generally held by the ancient philosophers that the macrocosm is similar to the microcosm in having a Sthula Sariram and a Suksma Sariram. The visible universe is the Sthula Sariram of Viswam; the ancient philosophers held that as a substratum for this visible universe, there is another universe— perhaps we may call it the universe of Astral Light—the real universe of Noumena, the soul as it were of this visible universe. It is darkly hinted in certain passages of the Veda and the Upanishads that this hidden universe of Astral Light is to be represented by an Icosahedron. The connection between an Icosahedron and a Dodecahedron is something very peculiar and interesting, though the figures seem to be so very dissimilar to each other. The connection may be understood by the under-mentioned geometrical construction. Describe a Sphere about an Icosahedron; let perpendiculars be drawn from the centre of the Sphere on its faces and produced to meet the surface of the Sphere. Now, if the points of intersection be joined, a Dodecahedron is formed within the Sphere. By a similar process an Icosahedron may be constructed from a Dodecahedron. (See Todhunter's "Spherical Trigonometry," p. 141, art. 193). The figure constructed as above described will represent the universe of matter and the universe of Astral Light as they actually exist. I shall not now, however, proceed to show how the universe of Astral Light may be considered under the symbol of an Icosahedron. I shall only state that this conception of the Aryan philosophers is not to be looked upon as mere "theological twaddle" or as the outcome of wild fancy. The real significance of the conception in question can, I believe, be explained by reference to the psychology and the physical science of the ancients. But I must stop here and proceed to consider the meaning of the remaining two signs.

XI. Kumbha (or Aquarius).—When represented by numbers, the word is equivalent to 14. It can be easily perceived then that the division in question is intended to represent the "Chaturdasa Bhuvanam," or the 14 lokas spoken of in Sanskrit writings.

XII. Mina (or Pisces).—This word again is represented by 5 when written in numbers, and is evidently intended to convey the idea of Panchamahabhutams or the 5 elements. The sign also suggests that water (not the ordinary water, but the universal solvent of the ancient alchemists) is the most important amongst the said elements.

I have now finished the task which I have set to myself in this article. My purpose is not to explain the ancient theory of evolution itself, but to show the connection between that theory and the Zodiacal divisions. I have herein brought to light but a very small portion of the philosophy imbedded in these signs. The veil that was dexterously thrown over certain portions of the mystery connected with these signs by the ancient philosophers will never be lifted up for the amusement or edification of the uninitiated public.

Now to summarize the facts stated in this article, the contents of the first chapter of the history of this universe are as follows:

1. The self-existent, eternal Brahmam.

2. Pranava (Aum).

3. The androgyne Brahma, or the bisexual Sephira-Adam Kadmon.

4. The Sacred Tetragram—the four matras of Pranava—the four avasthas—the four states of Brahma—the Sacred Dharaka.

5. The five Brahmas—the five Buddhas representing in their totality the Jivatma.

6. The Astral Light—the holy Virgin—the six forces in Nature.

7. The thirty-six Tatwams born of Avidya.

8. The universe in thought—the Swapna Avastha—the microcosm looked at from a subjective point of view.

9. The nine Prajapatis—the assistants of the Demiurgus.*

10. The shape of the material universe in the mind of the Demiurgus— the DODECAHEDRON.

11. The fourteen lokas.

12. The five elements.

———— * The nine Kabalistic Sephiroths emanated from Sephira the 10th and the head Sephiroth are identical. Three trinities or triads with their emanative principle form the Pythagorean mystic Decad, the sum of all which represents the whole Kosmos.—Ed. Theos. ————

The history of creation and of this world from its beginning up to the present time is composed of seven chapters. The seventh chapter is not yet completed.

—T. Subba Row Triplicane, Madras, September 14, 1881



The Sishal and Bhukailas Yogis

We are indebted to the kindness of the learned President of the Adi Brahmo Samaji for the following accounts of two Yogis, of whom one performed the extraordinary feats of raising his body by will power, and keeping it suspended in the air without visible support. The Yoga posture for meditation or concentration of the mind upon spiritual things is called Asana. There are various of these modes of sitting, such as Padmasan, &c. &c. Babu Rajnarain Bose translated this narrative from a very old number of the Tatwabodhini Patrika, the Calcutta organ of the Brahmo Samaj. The writer was Babu Akkhaya Kumar Dalta, then editor of the Patrika, of whom Babu Rajnarain speaks in the following high terms—"A very truth-loving and painstaking man; very fond of observing strict accuracy in the details of a description."

Sishal Yogi

A few years ago, a Deccan Yogi, named Sishal, was seen at Madras, by many Hindus and Englishmen, to raise his Asana, or seat, up into the air. The picture of the Yogi, showing his mode of seating, and other particulars connected with him, may be found in the Saturday Magazine on page 28.

His whole body seated in air, only his right hand lightly touched a deer skin, rolled up in the form of a tube, and attached to a brazen rod which was firmly stuck into a wooden board resting on four legs. In this position the Yogi used to perform his japa (mystical meditation), with his eyes half shut. At the time of his ascending to his aerial seat, and also when he descended from it, his disciples used to cover him with a blanket. The Tatwabodhini Patrika, Chaitra, 1768 Sakabda, corresponding to March 1847.

The Bhukailas Yogi

The extraordinary character of the holy man who was brought to Bhukailas, in Kidderpore, about 14 years ago, may still be remembered by many. In the month of Asar, 1754 Sakabda (1834 A.C.), he was brought to Bhukailas from Shirpur, where he was under the charge of Hari Singh, the durwan (porter) of Mr. Jones. He kept his eyes closed, and went without food and drink, for three consecutive days, after which a small quantity of milk was forcibly poured down his throat. He never took any food that was not forced upon him. He seemed always without external consciousness. To remove this condition Dr. Graham applied ammonia to his nostrils; but it only produced tremblings in the body, and did not break his Yoga state. Three days passed before he could be made to speak. He said that his name was Dulla Nabab, and when annoyed, he uttered a single word, from which it was inferred that he was a Punjabi. When he was laid up with gout Dr. Graham attended him, but he refused to take medicine, either in the form of powder or mixture. He was cured of the disease only by the application of ointments and liniments prescribed by the doctor. He died in the month of Chaitra 1755 Sakabda, of a choleric affection.*—The Tatwabodhini Patrika, Chaitra, 1768 Sakabda, corresponding to March, 1847 A.C.