Book: Five Years Of Theosophy
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In 1469, all the vineyards and orchards perished in consequence of the
frost. In 1609, in France, Switzerland and Upper Italy, people had to
thaw their bread and provisions before they could use them. In 1639,
the Harbour of Marseilles was covered with ice to a great distance. In
1659, all the rivers in Italy were frozen. In 1699, the winter in
France and Italy proved the severest and longest of all. The prices for
articles of food were so much raised that half of the population died of
starvation. In 1709, the winter was no less terrible. The ground was
frozen in France, Italy and Switzerland to the depth of several feet;
and the sea, south as well as north, was covered with one compact and
thick crust of ice, many feet deep, and for a considerable distance in
the usually open sea. Numbers of wild beasts, driven out by the cold
from their dens in the forests, sought refuge in villages and even
cities; and the birds fell dead to the ground by hundreds. In 1729,
1749 and 1769 (cycles of twenty years' duration), all the rivers and
streams were ice-bound all over France for many weeks, and all the fruit
trees perished. In 1789, France was again visited by a very severe
winter. In Paris, the thermometer stood at nineteen degrees of frost.
But the severest of all winters proved that of 1829. For fifty-four
consecutive days all the roads in France were covered, with snow several
feet deep, and all the rivers were frozen. Famine and misery reached
their climax in the country in that year. In 1839, there was again in
France a most terrific and trying cold season. And the winter of 1879
has asserted its statistical rights, and proved true to the fatal
influence of the figure 9. The meteorologists of other countries are
invited to follow suit, and make their investigations likewise, for the
subject is certainly most fascinating as well as most instructive.
Enough has been shown, however, to prove that neither the ideas of
Pythagoras on the mysterious influence of numbers, nor the theories of
the ancient world-religions and philosophies are as shallow and
meaningless as some too forward thinkers would have had the world to
believe.
--H.P.B.
SCIENTIFIC
Odorigen and Jiva
Professor Yaeger of Stuttgart has made a very interesting study of the
sense of smell. He starts from the fact well known in medical
jurisprudence, that the blood of an animal when treated by sulphuric, or
indeed by any other decomposing acid, smells like the animal itself to
which it belongs. This holds good even after the blood has been long
dried.
Let us state before all what is to be understood by the smell of a
certain animal. There is the pure, specific smell of the animal,
inherent in its flesh, or, as we shall see hereafter, in certain
portions of its flesh. This smell is best perceived when the flesh is
gently boiling in water. The broth thereby obtained contains the
specific taste and smell of the animal--I call it specific, because
every species, nay every variety of species, has its own peculiar taste
and smell. Think of mutton broth, chicken broth, fish broth, &c. &c. I
shall call this smell, the specific scent of the animal. I need not say
that the scent of an animal is quite different from all such odours as
are generated within its organism, along with its various secretions and
excretions: bile, gastric juice, sweat, &c. These odours are again
different in the different species and varieties of animals. The
cutaneous exhalation of the goat, the sheep, the donkey, widely differ
from each other; and a similar difference prevails with regard to all
the other effluvia of these animals. In fact, as far as olfactory
experience goes, we may say that the odour of each secretion and
excretion of a certain species of animals is peculiar to itself, and
characteristically different in the similar products of another species.
By altering the food of an animal we may considerably alter all the
above-mentioned odours, scents, as well as smells; yet essentially they
will always retain their specific odoriferous type. All this is matter
of strict experience.
Strongly diffusive as all these odorous substances are, they permeate
the whole organism, and each of them contributes its share to what in
the aggregate constitutes the smell of the living animal. It is
altogether an excrementitious smell tempered by the scent of the animal.
That excrementitious smell we shall henceforth simply call the smell, in
contradistinction to the scent of the animal.
To return after this not very pleasant, but nevertheless necessary
digression, to our subject. Professor Yaeger found that blood, treated
by an acid, may emit the scent or the smell of the animal, according as
the acid is weak or strong. A strong acid, rapidly disintegrating the
blood, brings out the animal's smell; a weak acid, the animal's scent.
We see, then, that in every drop of blood of a certain species of
animal, and we may as well say, in each of its blood corpuscles, and in
the last instance, in each of its molecules, the respective animal
species is fully represented, as to its odorant speciality, under both
aspects of scent and smell.
We have, then, on the one side, the fact before us that wherever we meet
in the animal kingdom with difference of shape, form, and construction,
so different as to constitute a class, a genus, or a family of its own,
there we meet at the same time with a distinct and specific scent and
smell. On the other hand, we know that these specific odours are
invariably interblended with the very life-blood of the animal. And
lastly, we know that these specific odours cannot be accounted for by
any agents taken up in the shape of food from the outer world. We are,
then, driven to the conclusion that they are properties of the inner
animal; that they, in other words, pertain to the specific protoplasm
of the animal concerned.
And thus our conclusion attains almost certainty, when we remember that
it stands the crucial test of experiment--that we need only decompose
the blood in order to find there what we contend to be an essential
ingredient of it.
I must now say a few words in explanation of the term protoplasm.
Protoplasm is a soft, gelatinous substance, transparent and homogeneous,
easily seen in large plant-cells; it may be compared to the white of an
egg. When at rest all sorts of vibratory, quivering and trembling
movements can be observed within its mass. It forms the living material
in all vegetable and animal cells; in fact, it is that component of the
body which really does the vital work. It is the formative agent of all
living tissues. Vital activity, in the broadest sense of the term,
manifests itself in the development of the germ into the complete
organism, repeating the type of its parents, and in the subsequent
maintenance of that organism in its integrity and both these functions
are exclusively carried on by the protoplasm. Of course, there is a
good deal of chemical and mechanical work done in the organism, but
protoplasm is the formative agent of all the tissues and structures.
Of tissues and structures already formed, we may fairly say that they
have passed out of the realms of vitality, as they are destined to
gradual disintegration and decay in the course of life; it is they that
are on the way of being cast out of the organism, when they have once
run through the scale of retrograde metamorphosis; and it is they that
give rise to what we have called the smell of the animal. What lives in
them is the protoplasm.
In the shape of food the outer world supplies the organism with all the
materials necessary for the building up of the constantly wasting
organic structures; and, in the shape of heat, there comes from the
outer world that other element necessary for structural changes,
development and growth--the element of force. But the task of directing
all the outward materials to the development and maintenance of the
organism--in other words, the task of the director-general of the
organic economy falls to the protoplasm.
Now this wonderful substance, chemically and physically the same in the
highest animal and in the lowest plant, has been all along the puzzle of
the biologist. How is it that in man protoplasm works out human
structure; in fowl, fowl structure, &c. &c., while the protoplasm
itself appears to be everywhere the same? To Professor Yaeger belongs
the great merit of having shown us that the protoplasms of the various
species of plants and animals are not the same; that each of them
contains, moreover, imbedded in its molecules, odorant substances
peculiar to the one species and not to the other.
That, on the other hand, those odorous substances are by no means
inactive bodies, may be inferred from their great volatility, known as
it is in physical science that volatility is owing to a state of atomic
activity. Prevost has described two phenomena that are presented by
odorous substances. One is that, when placed on water, they begin to
move; and the other is, that a thin layer of water, extended on a
perfectly clean glass plate, retracts when such an odorous substance as
camphor is placed upon it. Monsieur Ligeois has further shown that the
particles of an odorous body, placed on water, undergo a rapid division,
and that the movements of camphor, or of benzoic acid, are inhibited, or
altogether arrested, if an odorous substance be brought into contact
with the water in which they are moving.
Seeing, then, that odorous substances, when coming in contact with
liquid bodies, assume a peculiar motion, and impart at the same time
motion to the liquid body, we may fairly conclude that the specific
formative capacity of the protoplasm is owing, not to the protoplasm
itself, since it is everywhere alike, but to the inherent, specific,
odoriferous substances.
I shall only add that Professor Yaeger's theory may be carried farther
yet. Each metal has also a certain taste and odour peculiar to itself;
in other words, they are also endowed with odoriferous substances. And
this may help us to explain the fact that each metal, when crystallizing
out of a liquid solution, invariably assumes a distinct geometrical
form, by which it may be distinguished from any other. Common salt, for
instance, invariably crystallizes in cubes, alum in octohedra, and so
on.
Professor Yaeger's theory explains further to us that other great
mystery of Nature--the transmission from parent to offspring of the
morphological speciality. This is another puzzle of the biologist.
What is there in the embryonal germ that evolves out of the materials
stored up therein a frame similar to the parents? In other words, what
is there that presides over the preservation of the species, working out
the miniature duplicate of the parents' configuration and character? It
is the protoplasm, no doubt; and the female ovum contains protoplasm in
abundance. But neither the physicist nor the chemist can detect any
difference between the primordial germ, say of the fowl, and that of a
female of the human race.
In answer to this question--a question before which science stands
perplexed--we need only remember what has been said before about the
protoplasmic scent. We have spoken before of the specific scent of the
animal as a whole. We know, however, that every organ and tissue in a
given animal has again its peculiar scent and taste. The scent and
taste of the liver, spleen, brain, &c., are quite different in the same
animal.
And if our theory is correct, then it could not be otherwise. Each of
these organs is differently constructed, and as variety of organic
structure is supposed to be dependent upon variety of scent, there must
necessarily be a specific cerebral scent, a specific splenetic scent, a
specific hepatic scent, &c. &c. What we call, then, the specific scent
of the living animal must, therefore, be considered as the aggregate of
all the different scents of its organs.
When we see that a weak solution of sulphuric acid is capable of
disengaging from the blood the scent of the animal, we shall then bear
in mind that this odorous emanation contains particles of all the scents
peculiar to each tissue and organ of the animal. When we further say
that each organ in a living animal draws by selective affinity from the
blood those materials which are necessary for its sustenance, we must
not forget that each organ draws at the same time by a similar selective
affinity the specific odorous substances requisite for its constructive
requirements.
We have now only to suppose that the embryonal germ contains, like the
blood itself, all the odorous substances pertaining to the various
tissues and organs of the parent, and we shall understand which is the
moving principle in the germ that evolves an offspring, shaped in the
image and after the likeness of the parents.
In plants it is the blossom which is entrusted with the function of
reproduction, and the odorous emanations accompanying that process are
well known. There is strong reason to believe that something similar
prevails in the case of animals, as may be seen from an examination of
what embryologists call the aura seminalis.
Let us now inquire what the effects are of odours generated in the outer
world on animals. The odorous impressions produced may be pleasant or
unpleasant, pleasant to one and unpleasant to another animal. What is
it that constitutes this sensation of pleasure or displeasure?
Professor Yaeger answers, It is harmony or disharmony which makes all
the difference. The olfactory organs of each animal are impregnated by
its own specific scent. Whenever the odorous waves of a substance
harmonize in their vibration with the odorous waves emanating from the
animal; in other words, whenever they fall in and agree with each
other, an agreeable sensation is produced; whenever the reverse takes
places, the sensation is disagreeable. In this way it is that the odour
regulates the choice of the food on the part of the animal. In a
similar way the sympathies and antipathies between the various animals
are regulated. For every individual has not only its specific but also
its individual scent. The selection between the sexes, or what, in the
case of the human race, is called love, has its mainspring in the
odorous harmony subsisting in the two individuals concerned.
This individual scent--a variation of the specific odorous type--alters
(within the limits of its speciality) with age, with the particular mode
of occupation, with the sex, with certain physiological conditions and
functions during life, with the state of health, and last, but not
least, with the state of our mind.
It is to be remembered that every time protoplasm undergoes
disintegration, specific odours are set free. We have seen how
sulphuric acid, or heat, when boiling or roasting meat, brings out the
specific animal odour. But it is an established fact in science, that
every physical or mental operation is accompanied by disintegration of
tissue; consequently we are entitled to say that with every emotion
odours are being disengaged. It can be shown that the quality of those
odours differ with the nature of the emotion. The prescribed limits
prevent further pursuit of the subject; I shall, therefore, content
myself by drawing some conclusions from Professor Yaeger's theory in the
light of the Esoteric Doctrine.
The phenomena of mesmeric cures find their full explanation in the
theory just enunciated. For since the construction and preservation of
the organism, and of every organ in particular, is owing to specific
scents, we may fairly look upon disease in general as a disturbance of
the specific scent of the organism, and upon disease of a particular
organ of the body, as a disturbance of the specific scent pertaining to
that particular organ. We have been hitherto in the habit of holding
the protoplasm responsible for all phenomena of disease. We have now
come to learn that what acts in the protoplasm are the scents; we shall,
therefore, have to look to them as the ultimate cause of morbid
phenomena. I have mentioned before the experiment of Mons. Ligeois,
showing that odoriferous substances, when brought in contact with water,
move; and that the motion of one odoriferous substance may be
inhibited, or arrested altogether, by the presence of another
odoriferous substance. Epidemic diseases, and the zymotic diseases in
particular, have, then, most likely their origin in some local odours
which inhibit the action of our specific organic odours. In the case of
hereditary diseases, it is most likely the transmission of morbid
specific odours from parent to offspring that is the cause of the evil,
knowing, as we do, that in disease the natural specific odour is
altered, and must, therefore, have been altered in the diseased parent.
Now comes the mesmeriser. He approaches the sick with the strong
determination to cure him. This determination, or effort of the will,
is absolutely necessary, according to the agreement of all mesmerisers,
for his curative success. Now an effort of the will is a mental
operation, and is, therefore, accompanied by tissue disintegration. The
effort being purely mental, we may say it is accompanied by
disintegration of cerebral and nervous tissue. But disintegration of
organic tissue means, as we have seen before, disengagement of specific
scents; the mesmeriser emits, then, during his operation, scents from
his own body. And as the patient's sufferings are supposed to originate
from a deficiency or alteration of his own specific scent, we can well
see how the mesmeriser, by his mesmeric or odoriferous emanations, may
effect a cure. He may supply the want of certain odoriferous substances
in the patient, or he may correct others by his own emanations, knowing,
as we do, from the experiment of Mons. Ligeois, that odorant matter does
act on odorant matter.
One remark more and I have done. By the Esoteric Doctrine we are told
that the living body is divided into two parts:
1. The physical body, composed wholly of matter in its grossest and most
tangible form.
2. The vital principle (or Jiva), a form of force indestructible, and,
when disconnected with one set of atoms, becoming attracted immediately
by others.
Now this division, generally speaking, fully agrees with the teachings
of science. I need only remind you of what I have said before with
regard to the formed tissues and structures of the body and its
formative agent the protoplasm. Formed structure is considered as
material which has already passed out of the realms of life; what lives
in it is the protoplasm. So far the esoteric conception fully agrees
with the result of the latest investigations of modern science.
But when we are told by the Esoteric Doctrine that the vital principle
is indestructible, we feel we move on occult, incomprehensible ground,
for we know that protoplasm is, after all, as destructible as the body
itself. It lives as long as life lasts, and, it may be said, it is the
only material in the body that does live as long as life lasts. But it
dies with the cessation of life. It is true it is capable of a sort of
resuscitation. For that very dead protoplasm, be it animal or
vegetable, serves again as our food, and as the food of all the animal
world, and thus helps to repair our constantly wasting economy. But for
all that it could hardly be said to be indestructible; it is
assimilable--that is to say, capable of re-entering the domain of life,
through its being taken up by a living body. But such an eventual
chance does by no means confer upon it the attribute of
indestructibility; for we need only leave the dead animal or plant
containing the protoplasm alone, and it will rot and decay--organs,
tissues, and protoplasm altogether.
To our further perplexity the Esoteric Doctrine tells us that the vital
principle is not only indestructible, but it is a form of force, which,
when disconnected with one set of atoms, becomes attracted immediately
by others. The vital principle to the Esoteric Doctrine would then
appear to be a sort of abstract force, not a force inherent in the
living protoplasm--this is the scientific conception--but a force per
se, independent altogether of the material with which it is connected.
Now I must confess this is a doctrine which puzzles one greatly,
although one may have no difficulty in accepting the spirit of man as an
entity, for the phenomena of ratiocination are altogether so widely
different from all physical phenomena that they can hardly be explained
by any of the physical forces known to us. The materialist, who tells
us that consciousness, sensation, thought, and the spontaneous power of
the will, so peculiar to man and to the higher animals, are altogether
so many outcomes of certain conditions of matter and nothing else, makes
at best merely a subjective statement. He cannot help acknowledging
that spontaneity is not a quality of matter. He is then driven to the
contention that what we believe to be spontaneous in us, is, after all,
an unconscious result of external impulses only. His contention rests
then on the basis of his own inner experience, or what he believes to be
such. This contention of his is, however, disputed by many, who no less
appeal to their own inner experience, or what they believe to be their
experience. It is then a question of inner experience of the one party
versus inner experience of the other. And such being the case, the
scientific materialist is driven to admit that his theory, however
correct it may be, rests, after all, on subjective experience, and can,
as such, not claim the rank of positive knowledge. There is then no
difficulty in accepting the entity of the spirit in man, the
materialistic assertion to the contrary notwithstanding. But the vital
force is exclusively concerned with the construction of matter. Here we
have a right to expect that physical and chemical forces should hold the
whole ground of an explanation, if an explanation is possible at all.
Now, physical and chemical forces are no entities; they are invariably
connected with matter. In fact, they are so intimately connected with
matter that they can never be dissevered from it altogether. The energy
of matter may be latent or patent, and, when patent, it may manifest
itself in one form or the other, according to the condition of its
surroundings; it may manifest itself in the shape of light, heat,
electricity, magnetism, or vitality; but in one form or the other
energy constantly inheres in matter. The correlation of forces is now a
well-established, scientific fact, and it is more than plausible that
what is called the vital principle, or the vital force, forms a link in
the chain of the other known physical forces, and is, therefore,
transmutable into any of them; granted even that there is such a thing
as a distinct vital force. The tendency of modern Biology is then to
discard the notion of a vital entity altogether. If vital force is to
be indestructible, then so are also indestructible heat, light,
electricity, &c.; they are indestructible in this sense, that whenever
their respective manifestation is suspended or arrested, they make their
appearance in some other form of force; and in this very same sense
vital force may be looked upon as indestructible: whenever vital
manifestation is arrested, what had been acting as vital force is
transformed into chemical, electrical forces, &c., taking its place.
But the Esoteric Doctrine appears to teach something quite different
from what I have just explained, and what is, as far as I understand, a
fair representation of the scientific conception of the subject. The
Esoteric Doctrine tells us that the vital principle is indestructible,
and, when disconnected with one set of atoms, becomes attracted by
others. He then evidently holds that, what constitutes the vital
principle is a principle or form of force per se, a form of force which
can leave one set of atoms and go over as such to another set, without
leaving any substitute force behind. This, it must be said, is simply
irreconcileable with the scientific view on the subject as hitherto
understood.
By the and of Professor Yaeger's theory this difficulty can be
explained, I am happy to say, in a most satisfactory way.
The seat of the vital principle, according to Professor Yaeger's theory,
is not the protoplasm, but the odorant matter imbedded in it. And such
being the case, the vital principle, as far as it can be reached by the
breaking up of its animated protoplasm, is really indestructible. You
destroy the protoplasm by burning it, by treating it with sulphuric
acid, or any other decomposing agent--the odoriferous substances, far
from being destroyed, become only so much the more manifest; they
escape the moment protoplasmic destruction or decomposition begins,
carrying along with them the vital principle, or what has been acting as
such in the protoplasm. And as they are volatile, they must soon meet
with other protoplasms congenial to their nature, and set up there the
same kind of vital activity as they have done in their former habitat.
They are, as the Esoteric Doctrine rightly teaches, indestructible, and
when disconnected with one set of atoms, they immediately become
attracted by others.
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