Vehement desires about any one thing render the soul blind with respect to other things.
The equal is beautiful in everything, but excess and defect to me do not appear to be so.
It is the property of a divine intellect to be always intently thinking about the beautiful.
Correspondence.
A LAW OF LIFE: KARMA.
[The following letter has been received by the editors, in criticism on Mr. Keightley’s article on “Karma”; and as it raises many rather important points, an attempt has been made to answer them. Mr. Beatty’s letter is somewhat difficult to deal with, for though it asks many questions, they are so inextricably mingled with its author’s thoughts that it would be unfair to disentangle them from the context. It is a pity that Mr. Beatty, in his haste to criticize, did not wait for the conclusion of the article, as he might have saved himself some trouble. If his real desire is to learn, it would be well that he should approach the endeavour in a less flippant spirit and evolve the critic out of the criticaster. In many of his arguments he has, so to say, “given himself away,” but, in the interests of space and of the readers of Lucifer, only those questions and arguments which bear directly on the points at issue have been selected for answer. The point which Mr. Beatty does “not care to discuss,” and which refers to the mystery of Godliness, has been omitted. Perhaps, if Mr. Beatty continues to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest, he may in some future incarnation solve the mystery.]
In an article in Lucifer, under the above heading, Mr. Keightley declares it to be “very difficult, if not well-nigh impossible,” to understand Karma, and I grant him that his essay is a practical demonstration of his allegation. The difficulty (1.) does not, however, hinder him from attempting to define the refractory term. “Karma,” he says, “is the working of the great law which governs reincarnation,” or “a manifestation of the One, Universal, Divine Principle in the phenomenal world,” or again, “the great law of harmony which governs the universe.” Now, waiving altogether the question of reincarnations, I shall proceed to examine whether Mr. Keightley makes good his contention that “harmony,” in his sense of the word, “governs the Universe.” He says, “the man who denies the existence of harmony in the universe has transgressed the law and is experiencing punishment. He does this unconsciously to himself, because the law of harmony forms an unconscious impulse to its readjustment when it has been broken.” Here there are several things to be considered. In the first place, it may be asked: (2.) Does a man, by merely denying the existence of a law of Nature or the universe, transgress[transgress] that law? I think not.[[107]] Secondly. Can a law of the universe be “broken”? Here again I must reply in the negative; for who is going to contend that the law of gravitation has ever been “broken,”[[108]] has ever ceased to act, has ever required “re-adjustment”? A man can break no law of Nature in the sense of bringing that law into abeyance. If then, a law of harmony governs the universe there can be no such thing as discord. (3.) Yet Mr. Keightley admits that there is discord, that the law of harmony has been “broken” and needs “readjustment” This is a surrendering of his position and a patent admission that harmony is not constant or universal. He then proceeds to draw an illustration from music. “In musical chords, the composing notes, if taken by twos and threes, will be found in discord, but, when taken together, produce a harmony.” This is a particularly unfortunate subject of illustration. For does it not show that discord is an element in the universe as well as harmony? Why are discords introduced into music? Simply to make the harmony more effective. The reason for this, however, does not lie in any so-called universal law of harmony, but rather in the constitution of animate existences. Fundamentally, sensation is the consciousness of difference. Where the difference is great the feeling is great. If we wish to have the keenest sensation of sweetness we must first taste something bitter. Thus it is that occasional discords heighten harmony. But are the discords any less real on that account? Certainly not; for there can no more be harmony without discord, than there can be an up without a down. This, moreover, is only another illustration of the fact that human knowledge is merely relative. Must we, however, admit that the universal law may be harmony while our experience tells us that there are discords without number? Unless ignorance be considered as superior to positive knowledge, I see no room for the admission. If a man’s house tumbles about his ears, does it become any less a fact by trying to persuade himself and his neighbours that it is still standing? This seems to be the method of Mr. Keightley. He has, however, yet another argument “The universe ... is essentially an evidence of harmony; otherwise it could not exist, for it would fall to pieces.” This is a palpable begging of the question, and, besides, very absurd. The universe is a harmony, because a universe must be a harmony! “Otherwise it could not exist.” Now how does our harmonist know whether it could exist or not? Of what other universe has he experience or knowledge? “It would fall to pieces.” Where, I wonder, would it fall to? Perhaps it is even now fast falling to pieces, and who can tell us differently? As far as ordinary people can judge, it seems, as regards the parts we are acquainted with, to be falling into more or less concrete masses, but not many sane people believe it can fall into nothingness. After all this vain contention for universal harmony we find Mr. Keightley settling down like ordinary mortals to the conviction that the world is far from harmonious or perfect. One unfortunate individual who cannot be persuaded that all is harmony, is told that “he is incapable of understanding it because his attention is solely devoted to that which produces discord.” How comes it that the universe does not fall to pieces as a result of this discord? Surely we are in a precarious condition, if every obstinate fool who persists in crying out when he has been hurt, endangers the stability of the universe. Did ever anyone meet with a universe where there is less evidence of harmony? One brute force ever in conflict with another. Infernal forces piling up mountain on the top of mountain; supernal forces blasting, rending, excoriating and tumbling these mountains down again into the valleys; the oak struggling against the inwarping ivy, the fawn attempting vainly to escape from the claws of the tiger, the child agonising while parasites[parasites] eat slowly and mercilessly into its lungs, liver, or brain; the strong everywhere victorious over the weak; each sect and each party exerting itself ferociously to scoop out the viscera of its rival. Such is the world, such all records declare it to have been, and such it gives ample promise of continuing. But if the world is not really so, and on the contrary is one immensity of joyous harmony, who can tell us why the evidence is so deceptive? Here again, Mr. Keightley introduces to us a most remarkable statement. “The one Divine principle is divided by man’s actions into two opposing forces of good and evil, and man’s progress depends on the exertion of his will to preserve harmony and prevent deviation to one side or the other.” Give us by all means in preference to this for common sense, for rationality and for every other quality that makes it digestible, the childish story of Eve, the apple and the fall.
Beyond doubt, Mr. Keightley has a profound faith in man as a power in the universe and an instrument for evil. By a most singular process of metaphysical alchemy man decomposes the “Divine principle” into “two opposing forces of good and evil.” It seems from this revised version of an old story that man introduced evil into the universe. Why is man so important that a universe should be polluted for his sake? Surely man did not make himself, and whatever powers were in him for evil or for good must have been potential in that from which he sprang. Man can create nothing, neither evil nor good, neither a tendency to do right nor an inclination to do wrong. “Man’s will” is always a tremendous force for good or evil in the hands of theologians and metaphysicians. Did man make his own “will?” If not, how can he be responsible for what he does? Everybody knows that man can act according to his likes or dislikes. But does anybody imagine that he can make his own likes or dislikes? (4.) He can do as he wishes, but he wishes according to his nature, and this he cannot transcend, consequently he is not responsible to the Author of his nature for what his nature inclines him to do. But what are we to understand by the rest of the sentence? Man’s will is “to preserve harmony and prevent deviation to one side or the other.” First the will brings about evil in the “Divine principle,” destroying harmony, then it is to reproduce harmony and at the same time to maintain a balance between good and evil, and “prevent deviation to the one side or the other.” This to Mahatmas and possessors of the “sixth sense” may seem plain logic, but it far surpasses my comprehension.[[109]] I am, perhaps, as averse to “the pernicious doctrine of reward and punishment after death, in heaven or in hell” as Mr. Keightley can be, but I can by no means deduce from it the results which to him appear so inevitable. “Nothing,” he says, “could have been found more calculated to circumscribe the view of life as a whole, and concentrate man’s attention on temporary matters.... He either rejected the idea of soul as altogether worthless, or else he transferred his interest to the soul’s welfare in heaven—in either case concentrating his attention on what is inevitably transient.” How the idea of never-ending existence in heaven or in hell can have the effect of circumscribing “the view of life as a whole,” and of concentrating “man’s attention on temporary matters,” is to me an insolvable puzzle. That it should have quite the opposite effect, does not seem to require proof. Why, in the name of mystery, should he “reject the idea of soul as worthless,” and how can transferring “his interest to the soul’s welfare in heaven” be called a concentrating of “his attention on what is inevitably transient?” Truly this Karma is a bewildering subject![[110]]
Do plants and animals come under the law of Karma? is the next question discussed by Mr. Keightley. An extract from the Theosophist seems to discountenance such a thing. But are its arguments really conclusive against it? I do not think so. It says, “A piece of iron is attracted to a magnet without having any desire in the matter.” Now, in the first place, this is pure assumption, and has its origin in vainglorious human egotism.[[111]] It is evident that from objective data alone we cannot decide what is the subjective state of the molecules of the attracted iron. In the second place, we are only acquainted with the iron as a cause producing changes in us. No matter how we interpret these changes, they cannot even tell us the real nature of iron, merely considered objectively. Again the extract proceeds: “An animal usually follows the instincts of its nature without any merit or demerit for so doing; a child or an idiot may smilingly kick over a lamp, which may set a whole city on fire.... A person can only be held responsible according to his ability to perceive justice, and to distinguish between good and evil.” According to this doctrine, man is not an “animal,” and does not follow his instincts. To those who are acquainted, even slightly, with the method and regularity of Nature, this contention will appear, on the face of it, untenable. For why should there be an exception in the case of man?[[112]] Has man instincts, desires, and inclinations, or has he not? If he has, why should he have them if he is not to follow them? And if in any case he does not follow them, is it not with him as with the “animals”? Is it not because he is deterred by influences from without, or hereditary influences from within? And of all these instincts, desires and influences, how is he to know which to obey, to know which is of Divine sanction? He has conscience, of course, but conscience is a very variable quantity, and indeed, it might not be too much to say that there is hardly a crime in the world that has not, at one time or another, been commended by conscience. Conscience is only one phase of the man’s mental activity, and was no more created by him than was his power of vision. We talk of “children and idiots,” and their being irresponsible, but are not untamed savages also irresponsible? And if we admit that there may be beings as much higher than we, as we are higher than children, idiots, and savages, will they not, with reason and justice, regard us as irresponsible? The truth is, there never was a greater chimera conjured up by unreasoning fancy than that one of man’s responsibility to a Supreme Power. Man is responsible only to man, and man’s conduct is without merit except from a human view-point. We are good or bad by reason of all the forces that act on and through us.
My object in writing what I have written is to show to Theosophists the dense darkness in which I wander. Will some God-illumined mind not take pity upon, and draw me up from the labyrinthian gloom, where illusions mislead me at every step? My “sixth sense” seems wholly dormant, and Nirvana, that haven of rest, seems distant, by many a weary league of rocky path and burning desert. Pity me.