Theosophical Society,

H
P Blavatsky
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A journal
interested like the Theosophist in the explorations of archćology and archaic
religions, as well as the study of the occult in nature, has to be doubly
prudent and discreet. To bring the two conflicting elements – exact science
and metaphysics – into direct contact, might create as great a disturbance as
to throw a piece of potassium into a basin of water. The very fact that we
are predestined and pledged to prove that some of the wisest of Western
scholars have been misled by the dead letter of appearances and that they are
unable to discover the hidden spirit in the relics of old, places us under
the ban from the start. With those sciolists who are neither broad enough,
nor sufficiently modest to allow their decisions to be reviewed, we are
necessarily in antagonism. Therefore, it is essential that our position in
relation to certain scientific hypotheses, perhaps tentative and only
sanctioned for want of better ones – should be clearly defined at the outset. An infinitude of
study has been bestowed by the archaeologists and the orientalists upon the
question of chronology – especially in regard to Comparative Theology. So
far, their affirmations as to the relative antiquity of the great religions
of the pre-Christian era are little more than plausible hypotheses. How far
back the national and religious Vedic period, so called, extends – "it
is impossible to tell," confesses Prof. Max Müller; nevertheless, he
traces it "to a period anterior to 1,000 B.C.," and brings us
"to 1,100 or 1,200 B.C., as the earliest time when we may suppose the
collection of the Vedic hymns to have been finished." Nor do any other
of our leading scholars claim to have finally settled the vexed question,
especially delicate as it is in its bearing upon the chronology of the book
of Genesis. Christianity, the direct outflow of Judaism and in most cases the
State religion of their respective countries, has unfortunately stood in
their way. Hence, scarcely two scholars agree; and each assigns a different
date to the Vedas and the Mosaic books, taking care in every case to give the
latter the benefit of the doubt. Even that leader of the leaders in
philological and chronological questions – Professor Müller, hardly twenty
years ago, allowed himself a prudent margin by stating that it will be
difficult to settle "whether the Veda is 'the oldest of books,' and
whether some of the portions of the Old Testament may not be traced back to
the same or even an earlier date than the oldest hymns of the Veda." The
Theosophist is, therefore, quite warranted in either adopting or
rejecting as it pleases the so-called authoritative chronology of science. Do
we err then, in confessing that we rather incline to accept the chronology of
that renowned Vedic scholar, Swami Dayánund Saraswati, who unquestionably
knows what he is talking about, has the four Vedas by heart, is perfectly
familiar with all Sanskrit literature, has no such scruples as the Western
Orientalists in regard to public feelings, nor desire to humour the
superstitious notions of the majority, nor has any object to gain in
suppressing facts? We are only too conscious of the risk in withholding our
adulation from scientific authorities. Yet, with the common temerity of the
heterodox we must take our course, even though, like the Tarpeďa of old, we
be smothered under a heap of shields – a shower of learned quotations from
these "authorities." We are far from feeling ready to adopt the absurd chronology of a Berosus or even Syncellus – though in truth they appear "absurd" only in the light of our preconceptions. But, between the extreme claims of the Brahmins and the ridiculously short periods conceded by our Orientalists for the development and full growth of that gigantic literature of the ante-Mahábháratan period, there ought to be a just mean. While Swami Dayánund Saraswati asserts that "The Vedas have now ceased to be objects of study for nearly 5,000 years," and places the first appearance of the four Vedas at an immense antiquity; Professor Müller, assigning for the composition of even the earliest among the Brâhmanas, the years from about 1,000 to 800 B.C., hardly dares, as we have seen, to place the collection and the original composition of the Sanhitâ, of Rig-Vedic hymns, earlier than 1,200 to 1,500 before our era!l Whom ought we to believe; and which of the
two is the better informed? Cannot this gap of several thousand years be
closed, or would it be equally difficult for either of the two cited
authorities to give data which would be regarded by science as thoroughly
convincing? It is as easy to reach a false conclusion by the modern inductive
method as to assume false premises from which to make deductions. Doubtless
Professor Max Müller has good reasons for arriving at his chronological
conclusions. But so has Dayánund Saraswati Pandit. The gradual modifications,
development and growth of the Sanskrit language are sure guides enough for an
expert philologist. But, that there is a possibility of his having been led
into error would seem to suggest itself upon considering a certain argument
brought forward by Swami Dayánund. Our respected friend and teacher maintains
that both Professor Müller and Dr. Wilson have been solely guided in their
researches and conclusion by the inaccurate and untrustworthy commentaries of
Sayana, Mahidar, and Uvata, commentaries which differ diametrically from
those of a far earlier period as used by himself in connection with his great
work the Veda Bhashya. A cry was raised at the outset of this publication
that Swami's commentary is calculated to refute Sayana and the English interpreters. "For this," very justly
remarks Pandit Dayánund, "I cannot be blamed; if Sayana has erred, and
English interpreters have chosen to take him for their guide, the delusion
cannot be long maintained. Truth alone can stand, and Falsehood before
growing civilization must fall."2 And if, as he claims, his Veda
Bhashya is entirely founded on the old commentaries of the ante-Mahábháratan
period to which the Western scholars have had no access, then, since his were
the surest guides of the two classes, we cannot hesitate to follow him,
rather than the best of our European Orientalists. But, apart from
such primâ facie evidence, we would respectfully request Professor Max
Müller to solve us a riddle. Propounded by himself, it has puzzled us for
over twenty years, and pertains as much to simple logic as to the chronology
in question. Clear and undeviating, like the Rhône through the Geneva lake,
the idea runs through the course of his lectures, from the first volume of
"Chips" down to his last discourse. We will try to explain. All who have
followed his lectures as attentively as ourselves will remember that
Professor Max Müller attributes the wealth of myths, symbols, and religious
allegories in the Vedic hymns, as in Grecian mythology, to the early worship
of nature by man. "In the hymns of the Vedas," to quote his words,
"we see man left to himself to solve the riddle of this world. He is
awakened from darkness and slumber by the light of the
sun" . . . and he calls it – "his life, his truth, his brilliant
Lord and Protector." He gives names to all the powers of nature, and
after he has called the fire "Agni," the sun-light
"Indra," the storms "Maruts," and the dawn
"Usha," they all seem to grow naturally into beings like himself,
nay greater than himself. 3 This definition of the mental state of primitive
man, in the days of the very infancy of humanity, and when hardly out of its
cradle – is perfect. The period to which he attributes these effusions of an
infantile mind, is the Vedic period, and the time which separates us from it
is, as claimed above, 3,000 years. So much impressed seems the great
philologist with this idea of the mental feebleness of mankind at the time
when these hymns were composed by the four venerable Rishis, that in his
introduction to the Science of Religion (p. 78) we find the Professor saying:
"Do you still wonder at polytheism or at mythology? Why, they are
inevitable. They are, if you like, a parler enfantin of religion. But
the world has its childhood, and when it was a child it spake as a child, (nota
bene, 3,000 years ago), it understood as a child, it thought as a child .
. . The fault rests with us if we insist on taking the language of
children for the language of men. . . . The language of antiquity is the
language of childhood . . . the parler enfantin in religion is not
extinct . . . as, for instance, the religion of Having read thus
far, we pause and think. At the very close of this able explanation, we meet
with a tremendous difficulty, the idea of which must have never occurred to
the able advocate of the ancient faiths. To one familiar with the writings
and ideas of this Oriental scholar, it would seem the height of absurdity to
suspect him of accepting the Biblical chronology of 6,000 years since the
appearance of the first man upon earth as the basis of his calculations. And
yet the recognition of such chronology is inevitable if we have to accept
Professor Müller's reasons at all; for here we run against a purely
arithmetical and mathematical obstacle, a gigantic miscalculation of
proportion . . . No one can deny
that the growth and development of mankind – mental as well as physical –
must be analogically measured by the growth and development of man. An
anthropologist, if he cares to go beyond the simple consideration of the
relations of man to other members of the animal kingdom, has to be in a
certain way a physiologist as well as an anatomist; for, as much as ethnology
it is a progressive science which can be well treated but by those who are
able to follow up retrospectively the regular unfolding of human faculties
and powers, assigning to each a certain period of life. Thus, no one would
regard a skull in which the wisdom-tooth, so called, would be apparent, the
skull of an infant. Now, according to geology, recent researches "give
good reasons to believe that under low and base grades the existence of man
can be traced back into the tertiary times." In the old glacial drift of
It really seems the
duty of the eminent Sanskritist and Lecturer on Comparative Theology to get
out of this dilemma. Either the Rig-Veda hymns were composed but 3,000 years
ago, and, therefore, cannot be expressed in the "language of
childhood" – man having lived in the glacial period – but the generation
which composed them must have been composed of adults, presumably as
philosophical and scientific in the knowledge of their day, as we are in our
own; or, we have to ascribe to them an immense antiquity in order to carry
them back to the days of human mental infancy. And, in this latter case,
Professor Max Müller will have to withdraw a previous remark, expressing the
doubt "whether some of the portions of the Old Testament may not be
traced back to the same or even an earlier date than the oldest hymns of the
Vedas."
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Cardiff Blavatsky Archive
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