| 
   
  
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANCIENT GREECE 
THE SCHOOL OF PYTHAGORAS -
    THE DELPHI MYSTERIES 
    
    We have all heard the famous inscription on the Temple of Delphi,
    "Know thyself and thou wilt know the universe and the gods." On the basis of
    this maxim the entire theosophical system of the ancient Greeks was based. The three
    leading propositions of all the Esoteric Schools are summed up in the sentence frequently
    quoted as the gist of the teaching of Pythagoras: "Evolution is the law of life;
    number is the law of the universe; unity is the law of God." 
     
    The wonderful character known as Orpheus is no mythical personage, but a
    genuine adept of antiquity around whose wonderful career, as in all similar cases,
    multitudes of fairy tales have gathered. The work of Orpheus, like that of all other great
    spiritual teachers, did not consist in establishing a sect or party, but in disseminating
    truths of universal import which gradually percolated through many existing systems,
    constituting an inner body of doctrine of which simply literalists were always ignorant.
    Pythagoras, the Sage of Samos, though his period was not earlier than 600 B.C., is
    regarded as quite a legendary character by many who have not deeply studied the history of
    that epoch, and as in the case of so many other great leaders who worked from a spiritual
    standpoint, fierce persecution assailed this renowned Initiate and all who had the
    hardihood to publicly espouse his doctrines and remain faithful to his cause. The more we
    study history, the more convinced must we become that the persecuting spirit, which has
    relentlessly attacked all the world's great reformers, is excited not by religious
    conviction in any case originally, but by scheming demagogues, whose tyrannical authority,
    whether in Church or State, is always threatened by the spread of knowledge, and
    particularly by a real understanding of the Mysteries. In the case of Pythagoras and his
    followers, this persecution took place in Sicily, from which island many of the instructed
    fled to Greece, which furnished them a safe asylum. It is to Plato that we owe almost all
    our information concerning Pythagoras and his teachings; for, like other great spiritual
    enlighteners, this noble master gave instruction orally and never transferred his esoteric
    teachings to writing except under cover of symbolical signs, which only his disciples were
    able to interpret. 
    It appears that all masters have adopted the
    two-fold method of giving moral instruction freely to multitudes, but confiding the deeper
    meaning of their teaching exclusively to those disciples who had prepared themselves to
    profit by more interior instruction. No sensible or thoughtful person can fail to see the
    wisdom and complete justice of this course, for no one was excluded from the deeper
    teaching who was prepared to receive it, and preparation consisted in thoroughly digesting
    and practically applying the general teaching given openly to the multitudes. All sorts of
    curious names have been given to this inner teaching by those who referred to it
    metaphorically. In India the curious title of "Boar's flesh" has been sometimes
    applied to an inner philosophy which was concealed from the masses, a similitude which has
    led to the ludicrous mistake entertained by some shallow critics that one of the Buddhas
    died from gourmandizing on flesh, when it is well known in the East that those who occupy
    high spiritual stations are always vegetarians. In the School of Pythagoras, great stress
    was laid on simple diet, as one means for purifying the body of a candidate seeking
    admission into the inner circle of disciples, for if was stoutly contended that no one
    could become thoroughly clairvoyant, in the higher acceptance of the term, who partook of
    animal food, or who used any stimulants or narcotics. 
    The Sage of Samos was not an ordinary theurgist
    or worker of miracles, serving merely to create transitory sensational interest, his
    avowed mission being to assist humanity in the work of such complete regeneration that
    strife should cease upon the earth, both in the inward lives of his disciples and in the
    outer world also, so far as their influence extended. The essence of the Pythagorean
    Doctrine has come down to us in the Golden Verses of Lysis, in the commentary of
    Hierocles, and especially in the Timaeus of Plato, which contains a perfect system of
    cosmogony. All the great writers of ancient Greece radiate the spirit of Pythagoras, whom
    they admired so greatly that they never tire of relating anecdotes depicting the wisdom
    and beauty of his teaching and his marvelous power over all with whom he came in contact.
    He is quoted as an authority by the Gnostics of the early Christian Church as well as by
    the Neoplatonists of Alexandria. 
     
    This teaching constitutes a magnificent whole, and serves greatly to simplify the
    mysterious symbolism of India and Egypt, which often requires a clear Hellenic mind to
    portray it in intelligible language consistently with rational and ennobling ideas of
    human liberty. That wonderful period which witnessed the life and work of Pythagoras was
    also the age of Lao-Tse in China, and of Buddha Sakya-Muni in India. Pythagoras was a
    great traveler; he is said to have crossed the whole of the ancient world before
    delivering his message in Greece, to which country he brought the ripe fruits of a
    thoroughly matured philosophy. A fascinating account of this wonderful teacher is given by
    the gifted French author, Edouard Schure, who enters with much picturesque detail into an
    account of the early years and extended travels of this brilliant yet calm philosopher,
    who was the son of noble-minded parents. His father was a wealthy jeweler of Samos; his
    mother a woman of much refinement. 
    It is said that the Pythoness of Delphi, when
    consulted by these good people shortly after their marriage, promised them a son who would
    be useful to all men throughout all times. The oracle directed them to Sidon in Phoenicia,
    where the child could be born far from the disturbing influences which then ruled in their
    native land. Before his birth Pythagoras was fervently consecrated to Apollo, the God of
    Light. When the child was only a year old, acting on advice received from a priest of
    Delphi, his mother took him to an Israelitish temple in a valley of Lebanon where the high
    priest gave the infant a special blessing. 
    Parthenis, the mother of this wondrous babe, is
    reported to have been a singularly beautiful and gentle woman, highly intellectual and of
    a very gracious temper. As the boy grew toward manhood, his parents encouraged him in that
    pursuit of wisdom in which he took a most keen delight, and so earnest a student was he
    that when only eighteen years of age he had studied in classes composed almost exclusively
    of thoroughly mature and particularly able men. But though, when at the age of twenty
    three, he had enjoyed conference with Thales and Anazimander at Miletus, and others of the
    greatest among philosophers, none of these distinguished teachers had satisfied his
    yearning for the knowledge of perfect truth. 
     
    Their teachings seemed to him contradictory, and
    he was ever searching for a grand synthesis. We translate freely the following paragraphs
    from the French of Edouard Schure describing the hour when this marvelous genius seemed to
    attain his first complete glimpse of the great mission which lay before him: "Through
    the length of a glorious night Pythagoras directed his gaze now to the earth, now to the
    temple, and now to the starlit skies. Demeter, the Earth-Mother, that Nature whose secrets
    he sought to penetrate, was there outspread beneath him and around. 
    He imbibed her potent exhalations and felt the
    invincible attraction uniting him, a thinking atom, to her bosom, an inseparable portion
    of herself. The Sages whom he had consulted had told him that it was from her that all
    things spring. From nothing comes nothing. The soul proceeds from water and from fire, but
    this subtle emanation of the primal element issues from them only to revert. Nature, said
    they, is sightless and inflexible; resign thyself to her unchanging laws. 
     
    The sole merit thou canst have consists in this, that thou knowest them and art resigned
    to them. Then he gazed upon the firmament and sought to decipher the letters of flame
    formed by the Constellations in the fathomless depths of space. These signs, said he, must
    have a meaning, for if the infinitesimal, the motion of atoms, has its reason for
    existence, surely then also the immeasurably great, the wide-extended stars whose
    constellations represent a body of the universe! Verily each of these worlds must have its
    law, for all move unitedly according to number and in perfect harmony. 
    But who will decipher this starry alphabet? The
    priests of Juno had told him this universe is the abode of the gods which existed before
    the earth. 'Thy soul cometh' (said they) 'from thence. Pray to the gods that it may
    remount to heaven.' Then we are told that his meditations were interrupted, first by the
    chants of the Lesbian women and the Bacchic airs chanted by the youths, but these
    melodious sounds were soon interrupted by piercing mournful cries issuing from men who
    were to be sold as slaves and were being cruelly struck by those who were compelling them
    to embark for Asia. 
    Then it was that a painful thrill ran through
    his frame, for a mighty problem presented itself before him, as he contrasted vividly the
    different estates of the various classes of human beings who were thus brought before his
    notice. Whatever others might say and whatever appearances might indicate, the young
    Pythagoras cried out for liberty, liberty from all the pain, slavery and madness so
    abundantly spread around him. Who were right ? he asked. The Sages who taught a doctrine
    of blind fatality, the priests who attributed everything to Divine
    Providence, or the great
    mass of humanity who stood between the two with no well defined philosophy? All voices, he
    decided, declared some aspect of truth, but none gave to him the true solution of the
    problem. The three worlds, elaborately described in ancient cosmology, undoubtedly
    existed, and it was in the law of their equilibrium that the secret of the Kosmos lay.
    Having given utterance to this discovery, he rose to his feet, his glance fixed on the
    majestic temple which seemed transfigured in the moonbeams. In that magnificent temple he
    believed he saw an ideal image of the universe. The Cosmos guided and penetrated by God
    formed the sacred Quaternion, which is the source of Nature whose cause is eternal.
    Concealed in the geometrical lines of the Delphic Temple, he thought he found the key of
    the universe. The base, columns, architrave and triangular pediment represented to his
    view the three-fold nature of humanity and the universe: of the Microcosm and the
    Macrocosm crowned by divine unity, itself a trinity. The three worlds natural, human and
    divine, sustaining one another anal performing a universal drama in an ascending and
    descending movement signified to him the balance of earth and heaven, of which human
    liberty holds control. It was then that he conceived of human purification and liberation
    by triple initiation. 
    But he must prove by reason what his simple
    intelligence had received from the Absolute. This needs a human life; this is the task of
    Hercules. But where could he find the necessary knowledge to conduct this mighty labor?
    Nowhere but in his own soul. It was then that he forsook all allegiance to existing
    schools, and began the great task of working out for himself that wonderfully complete and
    simple, though seemingly intricate system, which we have learned to venerate as
    Pythagorean philosophy. " 
     
    Modern natural philosophy has always been compelled to acknowledge an imponderable
    universal agent, and has, therefore, sometimes quite unconsciously, fallen largely into
    line with the ideas of both ancient and modern Theosophists. 
     
    In the ancient Greek thought, Cybele-Maia reigns everywhere; for this is the name given to
    the soul of the world, that plastic, vibrating substance through which creative spirit
    acts. Oceans of ether unite all worlds, and this mysterious element is galled the great
    mediator between invisible and visible, between spirit and matter, between the interior
    and exterior of the universe. The modern Theosophical doctrine of the "astral
    light" is practically identical with the doctrine of the Logos and its many
    manifestations, as held in ancient Greece as well as all over the Orient. With these
    ancient concepts the philosophy of Pythagoras is very largely in accord; but when he
    visited the temple of Delphi and infused new life into the doctrines taught there, he gave
    to his disciples a very much loftier idea of the universe and of humanity than was then
    popularly known among the frequenters of that world-famous shrine. Pythagoras visited
    Delphi after visiting all the other Grecian temples, and at a time when its art of
    divination had somewhat deteriorated. 
    His mission everywhere was both to restore and
    to infuse new light. In that wonderful temple he found Theoclea, a priestess of Apollo, who
    belonged to one of the leading hereditary priestly families. This remarkable girl
    positively disliked most things which attracted others, and she was of so deeply spiritual
    a nature that she seemed to require none of those accessories to devotion, or aids to
    mystic development, which seem usually necessary. She is reported to have heard spiritual
    voices in open daylight, and on exposing herself to the rays of the rising sun, their
    mystical vibration developed in her a true ecstasy, during which she listened to the
    singing of choirs celestial. Feeling herself attracted to some higher world than earth, to
    which she had not yet found the key, she was at once attracted by that much deeper
    teaching, and by the far nobler influence exerted by Pythagoras than she was able to
    obtain from the priests of the Delphic temple, whose instructions and ceremonies by no
    means satisfied her inmost spirit. It is said that he and she recognized each other
    immediately as kindred souls, who must work together for the elevation of humanity.
       Pythagoras at that time was in his prime; his eloquence was amazing, and his
    presence so enchanting that the very atmosphere became lighter, and the intelligence of
    those around him awakened to an extent far beyond the usual. From this time on the work of
    this mighty Sage made an impression in Greece far greater than that of any other teacher,
    and his school was at once renowned for the extreme purity of its philosophy and its
    astounding depth of insight into the profoundest mysteries of the universe. Pythagoras and
    Theoclea worked together for a full year at Delphi in complete spiritual concert, and
    before he took his departure he had fully prepared her to carry on a ministry virtually
    identical with his own; thus did he demonstrate the underlying principle of ancient
    Co-Masonry which always assigns to woman an equal place with man in the celebration of all
    mysteries, wisely drawing a horizontal line between classes of individuals solely on
    account of qualification, never an absurd perpendicular line based on sex differentiation. 
     
    After leaving Delphi, Pythagoras worked in Croton, where the famous Pythagorean Institute
    arose, which was a college and a model city under the direction of this great Initiate.
    Through a wise combination of art and science, that magical harmony of soul and intellect
    which Pythagoreans regarded as the arcanum of philosophy was established. Science and
    religion were entirely at one, and it would be well indeed for many in this modern world,
    who are vainly endeavoring to reconcile false notions of religion with partly comprehended
    facts of science, to quaff a deep draft of inspiration from the Pythagorean synthesis. 
     
    Edouard Schure gives us a fascinating narrative descriptive of the white dwelling of the
    Pythagorean Initiates situated on a hill encircled by olive and cypress trees. The
    following is a free translation from the exquisite French of this delightful author:
    "On ascending the hill, the porticos, gardens and gymnasium were distinctly seen. The
    Temple of the Muses, with its circular colonnade, light and elegant, towered above the two
    wings of the building. The terrace of the surrounding gardens overlooked the town and its
    harbor. In the far distance stretched the gulf, between sharp, rugged portions of the
    coast, as though in a frame of agate, while the Ionian Sea enclosed the horizon with a
    line of azure. One might often see women dressed in many-colored costumes making their way
    on the left side of the hill down to the sea through an alley of cypresses. These were on
    their way to worship in the temple of Ceres. On the right side men were often seen
    mounting in white robes to the temple of Apollo. It was a great attraction to the keen
    imagination of youth to realize that the school of Initiates was under the protection of
    these divinities, one of whom (Ceres) held the profound mysteries of Woman and of Earth,
    while the other (Apollo) revealed those of Man and of Heaven." 
     
    Pythagoras soon sustained a reputation for sternness in discipline by refusing to admit
    unworthy novices, for he said that "not every kind of wood was suitable for the
    making of a Mercury." Young men who desired to enter the association must undergo
    severe tests. When Introduced by their parents or one of the masters, they were first
    allowed to enter the gymnasium in which the youths played games appropriate to their age;
    but every newcomer noticed at once that this was a gymnasium of a very peculiar sort,
    quite unlike those of the Grecian towns in which were heard the violent cries of clamorous
    groups boasting of their strength, challenging each other and proudly exhibiting their
    muscles. Here were only groups of well-behaved and singularly fine looking young men
    walking in couples beneath the porticos or playing rationally in the arena. They always
    invited a stranger to join them with kind simplicity, making him feel at once at home
    among them and never subjecting him to any annoyance or humiliation, a lesson which modern
    colleges in Europe and America need to mark, learn and inwardly digest until the
    disgraceful practice of hazing and similar abominations are once for all eliminated root
    and branch from all educational institutions claiming respectability and seeking the
    patronage of an enlightened public. 
     
    Before we can reasonably hope to make any real progress in spiritual 
    or ethical directions we must lay a firm foundation in physical and 
    mental culture. The gymnasium, according to Pythagorean philosophy, is a valuable vestibule to the inner temple in which profound
    instruction is given pertaining to mind and spirit; but as during a soul's terrestrial embodiment it needs to operate through a physical instrument, the part of
    reason is to provide as perfect an instrument as possible, and keep that vehicle in
    excellent working order. In the system of Pythagoras there is consistently maintained,
    from first to last, the idea of perfect equilibrium. Here is to be found neither
    voluptuous indulgence nor harsh asceticism. The body is not treated as though it were the
    foe of the spirit, but it is never allowed to usurp any throne of mastery. 
     
    In this matchless school of ancient Greece every principle of virtue 
    and nobility was inculcated and exemplified which the foremost educators of to-day are
    endeavoring to impress upon the gradually awakening consciousness of colleges and
    churches, and it must prove somewhat humiliating to the haughty heads of Christian seats
    of learning to find that a "Pagan" philosopher, several centuries before the
    Christian era, had carried out successfully a scheme of discipline which excluded all
    objectionable features, such as stupid, and often brutal, wrestling while it afforded
    vigorous young athletes ample opportunity and encouragement to cultivate their muscles to
    the utmost within the reasonable bounds of healthy exercise and good
    behavior. On the
    question of friendly feelings between fellow students, Pythagoras took
    uncomprimising
    ground. True friendship can never exist in company with brutality, nor can real courage be
    developed by cultivating envy or catering to unrighteous pride. Hatred makes us inferior
    to those we hate, precisely as terror puts us in the power of what we dread. Heroes are
    developed in schools where honest mutual esteem is cultivated to the utmost, and should it
    ever be necessary for a hero to fight he could do so with great courage and ability, but
    without a shade of fury. The Pythagorean method was both simple and conclusive. Fresh
    arrivals at the college were encouraged to express their own views freely among their new
    acquaintances, and as no restriction was placed upon the expression of their sentiments,
    they soon registered themselves as suitable or unsuitable for admission into the classes. 
     
    If any new applicant proved himself intelligently appreciative of the high standard in
    vogue among the Initiates, he was cordially welcomed; but if he evinced a preference for
    the cruder standard of the popular gymnasia of the towns, he properly drifted thither.
    While a new candidate was expressing his sentiments without restraint, the teachers were
    taking note of all he said, and it never took them long to ascertain whether he showed
    fitness for admission or otherwise. Pythagoras himself would often appear unexpectedly in
    the presence of the stranger, and study his words and gestures, in estimating which he was
    never at fault; he paid particular attention to gait and laughter, which are always
    faithful indexes of character; he had also made so profound a study of the human face that
    he read dispositions at a glance. Pythagoras introduced some of the Egyptian tests into
    his system, but the severer among these he wisely modified. After a few months of
    preliminary training, the candidate was submitted to an ordeal intended to test his
    bravery and prove his spirit. 
     
    One of these tests consisted in spending a night in a cave which had the reputation of
    being haunted with mysterious elementals who appeared to the aspirant in gruesome shapes.
    If his courage withstood this ordeal, he was accounted worthy to pass on to higher
    initiations, but if he shrank in terror from this external test he was considered too
    irresolute to be eligible for advancement. Being accepted for the preliminary degree, it
    was usually not long before the candidate was put through moral trials accompanied by
    severe tests of intellectual character.  Among these the ready solution of intricate
    mathematical problems held prominent place. For example, a teacher would call upon a
    student without warning to explain the meaning of a triangle within a circle, or to answer
    such a question as, Why is the dodecahedron, contained within a sphere, the symbol of the
    universe? When passing these tests, the student was required to spend twelve consecutive
    hours in his cell, during which time he might partake of bread and water, but no other
    food was allowed him. To young men of sybaritic temperament, such discipline might seem
    excessively severe, but to those of frugal tastes and sincerely bent on study, this was
    only healthy mental exercise. Lichen these twelve hours were ended the youth was taken
    into a company of assembled novices, who were allowed to ridicule him to test his metal;
    if he withstood all jibes and sneers complacently, he was regarded by the teachers as
    truly an embryonic philosopher, but if he became angry and resentful, Pythagoras would
    inform him that such lack of self-control demonstrated ineligibility for advancement. 
    It was only in extreme cases of misconduct, how
    ever, that this thoroughly equitable master expelled students from his school, and when he
    did so he always addressed them calmly and graciously, explaining to them that it could be
    of no use to them to attempt to continue their studies when they were quite out of harmony
    with the requirements and discipline of the college. These tests of temper proved
    conclusively the degree of self-control already attained by the young men who wished to
    become renowned in future as philosophers. Rejected candidates would sometimes inveigh
    bitterly against the college and its head; among these was the fanatical Cylon, who never
    forgave the college for his dismissal, and finally excited the populace to bring about its
    downfall. Those who bore everything with firmness were welcomed into the novitiate and
    received enthusiastic congratulations from their new companions. 
     
    The First Degree was called Preparation. This lasted from two to five years. Novices were
    called Listeners; during lessons they were subject to the rule of complete silence. They
    were not permitted to offer objections or to enter into discussions, for they must absorb
    the teaching before they could be prepared to discuss it intelligently. The Second Degree
    was called Purification. During this process of study the novice was welcomed into the
    house of Pythagoras and numbered among his disciples; real initiation now began. A
    rational exposition of occult doctrine was now given, which consisted especially in a
    study of the Science of Numbers, the esoteric meaning of which was concealed from the
    people at large, and only communicated to students who had proven their worth. A great
    distinction was made between sacred and secular mathematics; the latter alone are known to
    European savants, but the knowledge of the former has always been carefully preserved in
    the East. 
     
    The number One necessarily is all-including, as perfect white contains all colors; but as
    we cannot conceive of the Absolute Unmanifest with our finite intellects, all expressions
    of Divinity must be dual, consequently the Dyad reveals the Monad. Here we find another
    link between the Pythagorean and the Jewish conception of Divinity, as set forth in the
    opening chapters of the Pentateuch. Man and Woman hold equal rank in all ancient
    philosophies, but the feminine is always regarded as interior, while the masculine is
    external; therefore it often happens that short-sighted or unreflecting students imagine
    that the masculine is more sacred than the feminine, according to the teaching of ancient
    and Oriental philosophies. During the traiping of the Initiate in the Second Degree, the
    student was instructed in a doctrine very similar to much of the teaching with which we
    are familiar through the epistles of S. Paul, who was undoubtedly familiar with Greek
    philosophy as well as with Hebrew and Roman law. In the scheme of Pythagoras the number 7
    (compoundof square and triangle) signifies the union of Man and Divinity. It is the figure
    of all great Initiates, who understand that there are 7 degrees in involution and
    evolution. The number 10 represented completeness; it is called the perfect number in the
    highest sense, for it represents all principles of divinity evolved and reunited in a new
    unity.  
    We have all heard of the 9 Muses personifying
    the sciences, grouped 3 by 3, presiding over the triple ternary evolved in 9 worlds, which
    together with Hestia, Guardian of the Primordial Fire, constitute the sacred Decad. 
     
    The Third Degree was called Perfection, as among the Essenes. In this degree psychology
    and cosmogony were the leading studies. While the lessons in the earlier degrees were
    given in daylight, often in the full blaze of the outdoor sun, these deeper teachings were
    usually given during the night season in the open air by the seaside, or sometimes in the
    crypts of the temple which were gently illuminated by lamps of naphtha. It was at these
    times that clairvoyance asserted itself, and the inner faculties of the students began to
    enable them to personally verify by their own experience that which the teachers taught.
    It cannot be doubted by any who have studied deeply the records of ancient esoteric
    teaching that the old astronomical glyph, which everywhere presents itself, was chiefly a
    veil thrown over the secret teaching, which related far more to the evolution of the human
    soul than to the movements of the literal planets. Ancient astrology was something very
    different from the misguided substitute with which in these days we are often made
    disagreeably familiar. In sacred astrology there are no "malific" planets or
    "evil" aspects, though it is very clearly taught that one star does indeed
    differ greatly from another; but as members of one family may be persons of widely
    different temperament, occupation and appearance, and yet all be good and useful, so in a
    family of worlds like our solar system the different planets may be spoken of as brothers
    and sisters, the sun being the parent of them all. We can only understand the famous
    saying quoted by present-day astrologers of the better type, "The wise man rules his
    stars, the fool obeys them," when we contemplate the significance of the personal
    pronoun in the sentence, for no man, however wise, can regulate the motions of the stars,
    but we can learn to regulate their correspondences within his own nature. Pythagorean
    astrology is founded upon the acknowledgment of universally diffused intelligence, which
    is now coming to be largely recognized by Western as well as Eastern philosophers, and
    indeed the whole scientific world of to-day is coming very near to an acceptance of that
    ancient esoteric teaching which alone accounts intelligently for the
    behavior of all 
    forms of existence observable under the microscope. The celestial history of Psyche formed
    the climax of the instruction given by Pythagoras to his disciples. What is the human soul
    ? he asked. "A portion of the mighty soul of the world, a spark of Divine Spirit, an
    immortal Monad. Still, through its possible future opens out into the   
    unfathomable splendors of Divine consciousness, its mysterious dawn dates back to the
    origin of organized matter. To become what it is in present-day humanity, it must have
    passed through all the reigns of nature, the whole scale of beings gradually developing
    through a series of innumerable existences. The spirit which fashions the worlds and
    condenses cosmic matter into enormous masses manifests itself with varying intensity and
    an ever greater concentration in the successive reigns of nature. 
    A blind and confused force in the mineral,
    individualized in the plant, polarized in the sensation-and instincts of animals, it
    stretches towards the conscious monad in this slow elaboration; and the elementary monad
    is visible in the most inferior of animals. 
    The animal and spiritual element accordingly
    exists in every kingdom, though only in infinitesimal quantities in the lower kingdoms.
    The souls which exist in the state of germs in the lower kingdoms stay there without
    moving away for immense periods of time, and it is only after great cosmic revolutions
    that, in changing planets, they pass to a higher reign. All they can do during a planet's
    period of life is to mount a few degrees. Where does the Monad begin? As well ask at what
    hour a nebula was formed or a sun shone for the first time. 
    Anyhow, what constitutes the essence of any man
    must have evolved for millions of years through a chain of lower planets and kingdoms,
    keeping through all these existences an individual principle which follows it everywhere.
    This obscure but indestructible individuality constitutes the Divine seal of the Monad in
    which God wills to manifest Himself through consciousness. 
     
    The higher one ascends in the series of organisms, the more the Monad develops the
    principles latent in it. Polarized force becomes capable of sensation capacity of
    sensation becomes instinct, and instinct becomes intelligence. In proportion as the
    flickering flame of consciousness is lit, this soul becomes more independent of the body,
    more capable of existing freely. The fluid, non-polarized soul of minerals and vegetables
    is bound to the elements of earth. That of animals, strongly attracted by terrestrial
    fire, stays there for some time after living in the body, and then returns to the surface
    of the globe to reincarnate in its species without ever having the possibility of leaving
    the lower layers of the air. These are peopled with elementals or animal souls which play
    their part in atmospheric life and have a great occult influence over man. The human soul
    alone comes from the sky and returns there after death. At what period of its long cosmic
    existence has the elementary become the human soul ? Through what incandescent crucible,
    what ethereal flame has it passed? The transformation has been possible in an
    interplanetary period only by the meeting of human souls already fully formed which have
    developed in the elementary soul, its spiritual principle, and have impressed their Divine
    prototype like a seal of fire in its plastic 
    substance." (Quoted from J. Rothwell's Translation.) According to the 
    esoteric traditions of India and Egypt, we began our human existence on other planets
    where matter is far less dense than here. Human bodies were then almost vaporous, and it
    was quite easy for the soul to accomplish incarnation. Here we note a close resemblance
    between the teaching of Pythagoras and that profound Oriental doctrine which we have
    summarized in the section of this volume dealing especially with Hindu doctrine and
    tradition. 
    We must refer our readers to the fine work of
    Edouard Schure, from which we have already quoted freely, for further dissertation on this
    exhaustless theme, and pass on to a mere mention of the teaching of the Fourth Degree,
    called Epiphany, meaning vision from above. The initiation of intelligence must be
    followed by that of will, the most difficult of all. The disciple must become deeply
    imbued with truth in his inmost being, and must put the high teachings into practice in
    daily life. To attain this ideal, one must unite three kinds of perfection, called
    respectively realization of truth in intellect; virtue in soul; purity in body. The astral
    body participates in all the acts of the physical; it does indeed give effect to them. A
    doctrine of regeneration, which Pythagoras expounded very clearly, teaches how a second
    nature must replace the first, and finally the intellect must reach wisdom beyond mere
    knowledge till it can distinguish good from evil in every department of existence, and
    behold a revelation of God in the smallest of creatures, as well as in universal
    immensities. 
     
    On reaching this altitude, man becomes an adept, and enters into conscious possession of
    new faculties and powers; the inner senses of the soul expand and the physical senses are
    dominated by radiant will. Bodily magnetism, penetrated by the potency of the astral soul,
    electrified by will, acquires force apparently miraculous. Among the accepted Initiates,
    many healed the sick by their simple presence, though others resorted to the laying on of
    hands. Clairvoyance, like that of Apollonius of Tyana in one age and of Swedenborg in
    another, was frequently exhibited; indeed, all the wonders recorded of saints and seers
    throughout the literature of the ages seem to have been demonstrated in the school of this
    mighty master whose name to-day is being pronounced with ever increasing reverence. The
    Christian doctrine of the Trinity, so much misunderstood, because so deeply veiled in
    mystery, was rendered far more intelligible by Pythagoras six hundred years before the
    beginning of the Christian era than by those controversial Fathers of the Church who
    rejected the Divine Feminine, and therefore made quite unintelligible the original
    doctrine of the procession of the Logos. Father, Mother and Child we can understand; but
    Father, Son and Holy Spirit is an unintelligible phrase until we know that the Holy Spirit
    originally stood for the Divine Feminine. The Pythagorean Trinity is described as Spirit,
    Soul, and Heart of the Living Universe. The life of Pythagoras was extremely beautiful,
    and in the truest sense both spiritual and natural. 
    When sixty years of age he married one of his
    pupils, a maiden of great beauty and singular intelligence. This noble woman, Theano,
    entered so thoroughly into her husband's thought and life that after he had passed from
    earth she became the centre of the Pythagorean Order. 
     
    Two sons and one daughter were the result of this union, and the whole
    family offered a high model for all other families to follow. On all political questions
    Pythagoras was as highly enlightened as in the transcendent domain of directly spiritual
    philosophy, for he was a reformer in the widest and highest acceptance of the term. The
    system of government which he advocated united the best elements of democracy and
    aristocracy, and it will be well indeed if those who are wrestling with modern legislative problems investigate more deeply the wise  
    teachings of those true Initiates of old, who, while loving the whole people devotedly,
    and desiring in every way to promote the common interest, wisely realized that only the
    most intelligent and in every way enlightened among the people were competent to represent
    the multitudes as governors or legislators. 
     
    Cylon, the inveterate persecutor of the Pythagorean school, from which he
    had been expelled, was a fair sample of the unscrupulous modern demagogue. Tradition
    asserts that one evening, when forty of the principal members of the Order had assembled,
    this outrageous man, who was then a tribune, surrounded the house with an enraged crowd
    and set fire to the buildings. Thirty-eight of the disciples, together with Pythagoras
    himself, were either burned to death or massacred by their assailants, but the Order did
    not die; it was only dispersed, and continued for two hundred and fifty years to exert a
    benign, regenerating influence wherever it was established. Many of the predictions of
    Pythagoras were literally fulfilled, and this fact in itself inclined many to investigate
    the sublime doctrines of an Order which had had for its founder a sage and seer of such
    wonderful graces and lucidity. Truly has it been said that Pythagoras was an Adept and
    Initiate of the highest type; he enjoyed a direct spiritual vision, and had found the key
    to the occult sciences and to the spiritual world. He drew supplies of  knowledge
    from the primal fount of truth, and united with a wondrous intellect a high moral nature,
    which commanded the respect and love of all capable of appreciating real nobility. The
    philosophic edifice he reared was never destroyed. Plato took from Pythagoras his entire
    system of metaphysics. The closing words of Edouard Schure's magnificent french treatise
    may be translated thus: "The school of Alexandria occupied the upper stories of the
    edifice, while modern science has possessed itself of the ground floor and strengthened
    its foundations. Many philosophical schools and mystical or religious sects have dwelt
    within its numerous chambers. No philosophy, however, has yet embraced it in its
    harmonious entirety." 
 
    |