HPB and Her Letters--The Formative Period

Originally printed in the May - June 2004 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Algeo, John. "HPB and Her Letters--The Formative Period." Quest  92.3 (MAY-JUNE 2004):96-101

By John Algeo

Theosophical Society - John Algeo was a Professor Emeritus of English at the University of Georgia. He was a Theosophist and a Freemason He was the Vice President of the Theosophical Society Adyar.

H. P. Blavatsky was a prolific writer. In addition to her two major works, Isis Unveiled and The Secret Doctrine, of two volumes each, and her shorter books, The Key to Theosophy and The Voice of the Silence, her periodical publications and miscellaneous writings in English and French fill fourteen volumes, which do not include her Russian works, yet untranslated into English except From the Caves and Jungles of Hindostan and "The Durbar at Lahore." There are also the transcriptions of her remarks in The Transactions of the Blavatsky Lodge. The quantity of HPB's publications is phenomenal, especially considering the fact that most of them were produced during the last few years of her life, when she was chronically ill.

But in addition to her public writings, intended for publication, there is a mass of private writing—her correspondence with a great variety of people: her family in Russia, as well as friends and acquaintances in America, Europe, and India—scientists and spiritualists, journalists and generals, professors and preachers. Her correspondents included a distinguished Russian philosopher, Alexander Aksakoff; an American general, Francis Lippitt; a professor at Cornell University, Hiram Corson; a scholar of Platonism, Alexander Wilder; a British naturalist who anticipated Darwin in formulating the theory of natural selection, Alfred Wallace; and the inventor of the electric lightbulb, the phonograph, and other technologies, Thomas Edison. She wrote her letters in three languages: English, French, and Russian (and sometimes in a mixture of the three). Much of that correspondence—probably most of it—no longer exists, having been destroyed or lost. But what does remain gives a direct and intimate view into the mind and heart of the "Old Lady," as her intimates used to refer to her.

Even of the surviving correspondence, much no longer exists in autograph, that is, in its original form in her handwriting, but rather only in copies made by others or in published forms, the originals having long since disappeared. Many of the copied or published letters are clearly inaccurate, having been altered by the copyist or editor, sometimes accidentally and sometimes deliberately to make some point. The nonautograph letters are obviously of lesser authority and reliability, but when they are all that survive, one must, for lack of anything better, accept them as evidence, albeit flawed, of what HPB wrote. When there is no surviving original but several copies made at various times by different persons, those copies often differ from one another, sometimes only in minor details, but sometimes extensively in content.

A complete collection of Blavatsky's correspondence was begun by Boris de Zirkoff, her second cousin once removed, but he died before completing the collection or publishing any of it. De Zirkoff left his library, papers, and unfinished work to the Theosophical Society in America, where it is now archived. His manuscript collection of her letters comprises several large volumes. The American Society first arranged for John Cooper, an Australian interested in Theosophical history, to take on the task of completing the collection and editing of HPB's correspondence for publication by the Theosophical Publishing House, Wheaton. Cooper also planned to use an edition of the early letters for his doctoral thesis at Sydney University. However, Cooper died suddenly, with the projected first volume of the letters only in preliminary form and unedited professionally.

To complete the work, I assumed the editorship, with the assistance of my wife, Adele, and an advisory committee consisting of Daniel Caldwell, Dara Ekund, Robert Ellwood, Joy Mills, and Nicholas Weeks. We soon discovered that the texts of many of the letters were inaccurate, and we concluded that a reader would need fuller notes and explanations to understand the letters in their historical context. It became clear that more editorial apparatus was called for and that the text of every letter would have to be verified by comparing the copy we had with the original or with the best existing version. As HPB wrote to people all over the world, her letters are now deposited all over the world. Thus getting to see the prime versions, in order to ensure the accuracy of the texts to be published in The Letters of H. P. Blavatsky, entailed a pilgrimage around the globe. To give an idea of the vastness of the hunt, I will mention some of the places one must look to find the Old Lady's letters.

The Adyar Archives are the richest depository of HPB's correspondence. In addition to whatever correspondence has been there from the days of HPB's residence in Adyar, Annie Besant and others gathered as many of her letters as they could find and deposited them for safekeeping at the international headquarters of the Theosophical Society. But many of those letters are now in poor condition from the ravages of the years. Every effort is now being made to preserve them properly, but earlier damage cannot be undone.

Adele and I have spent long hours pondering the distinctive, but sometimes difficult to read, handwriting that we came to recognize as HPB's. We worked together, puzzling out whether a particular squiggle was an s or an a or just a squiggle. Deciphering HPB's script is a little like working a crossword puzzle: You go at a particular piece of it for a couple of hours, then put it aside and do something else for a while. When you return hours or days later, sometimes the mysteries solve themselves, and you immediately recognize what the message says. At other times, however, the puzzle remains a mystery, and you can only make an educated guess at the intention. But the work is fascinating, and when you finally succeed in making sense of an orthographical puzzle, you feel as though you have passed an initiation into the esoteric mysteries of HPB.

A number of other archives also contain letters or copies of letters by HPB. They include those of the Theosophical Society in America at Wheaton, Illinois; the Theosophical Society with international headquarters at Pasadena, California; the British Library; the College of Psychic Studies in London; the Thomas Edison National Historic Site in West Orange, New Jersey; the Grand Lodge of Freemasons at Freemason's Hall in London; the Historical Society of Pennsylvania; the Philosophical Research Society in Los Angeles; the Kroch Library of Cornell University in Itahaca, New York; the Society for Psychical Research in the Cambridge University Library; the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.; the India Office Library (containing correspondence of the Political and Secret Foreign Service Office) in the British Library; and the private HPB Library in Toronto.

Some of HPB's letters now survive only in published form in early magazines and newspapers. These publications, some of which still appear and some not, are diverse. They include general periodicals like the Calcutta Review, Ceylon Times, Hindu, New York Daily Graphic, New York Sun, New York World, and Times of India. Others are Theosophical journals like the Path (of London), Path (of New York), Theosophical Forum, Theosophical Nuggets, Theosophical Quarterly, Theosophic Isis, Theosophist, and Word. Others include specialized periodicals like Banner of Light, Carrier Dove, Harbinger of Light, Human Nature, Link, Madras Christian College Magazine, Medium and Daybreak, Rebus, and Spiritual Scientist.

Other letters survive only by quotation in whole or part in books. Such books include Contribution la Histoire de la Société Théosophique en France by Charles Blech, Modern World Movements by Jirah Dewey Buck, Life and Teachings of Swami Dayanand by Vishwa Prakash, Life of Dayanand Saraswati by Har Bilas Sarda, The Theosophical Society, Its Objects and Creed by Arthur Theophilius, and Madame Blavatsky by K. F. Vania.

The hunt for HPB's correspondence is a quest, and, like all quests, it is never completely finished, for there always remains the yet undiscovered letter somewhere over the horizon. As recently as 2002, a letter written by HPB in 1889 turned up in a minute book of the Bradford Lodge in England, and there are doubtless others waiting to be found elsewhere. But the collecting of her letters is not just a pastime or an antiquarian activity. HPB's personal letters are of interest for what they show about her many-faceted personality, about her inner experiences, about her ideas as they were forming, about her view of her own mission, about the way the Theosophical Society came into existence and developed over the years, and about us as readers as we respond to those letters.

The letters in volume 1 of the Collected Writings edition of H. P. Blavatsky's correspondence include all known surviving letters written before she and Colonel Olcott arrived in Bombay in 1879 to transfer the center of Theosophical activity from America to India. To get some sense of what those letters are like, I will quote from a few of them to show the range of her correspondence.

The first letter by HPB for which we have evidence is undated but was written to her relatives probably about 1863, when she was just a little over thirty years old. She had been traveling widely in Caucasian Georgia, especially in mountainous and wild country, and she apparently studied there with native magicians called kudyani, as a result of which she became known for the healing and parapsychological powers she was developing. During this time, she had a shamanic-like experience, in which she led a "double life." She was fasting, had a light fever, and would enter into a kind of meditative state, in which (as she later commented) she nevertheless "understood all, for I was never delirious." She describes the state in this letter to her relatives:

Whenever I was called by name, I opened my eyes upon hearing it and was myself, in every particular. As soon as I was left alone, I relapsed into my usual, half dreamy condition and became somebody else. . . . In cases when I was interrupted during a conversation in the latter capacity—say, at half a sentence spoken by either me or some of my visitors—invisible of course to any other, for it was I alone to whom they were realities—no sooner did I close my eyes than the sentence which had been interrupted continued from the word it had stopped at. When awake and myself I remembered well who I was in my second capacity and what I was doing. When somebody else—I had no idea of who was H. P. Blavatsky. I was in another far off country, quite another individuality, and had no connection at all with my actual life.

This experience or training seems to have lasted for several years, and during it she had only imperfect control of her own developing abilities. But it came to a head, a sort of crisis, in 1865, which was a watershed in her life. As a result of her experiences in the Caucasus during the preceding few years, her parapsychological powers, which had been active to varying degrees since her childhood, came increasingly under her conscious control, and her life took a new direction. In a later letter of March 1, 1882, to Prince Dondukov-Korsakov, HPB wrote, "Between the Blavatsky of 1845-1865 and the Blavatsky of the years 1865-1882, there is an unbridgeable gulf." When HPB finally left the Caucasus to go to Italy in 1865, she was never to return there again. She expressed her sense of freedom and release in a letter to her relatives, probably written about the time she left the Caucasus:

Now I will never be subjected any longer to external influences. The last vestige of my psycho-physiological weakness is gone to return no more. . . . I am cleansed and purified of that dreadful attraction to myself of stray spooks and ethereal affinities. I am free, free, thanks to Them whom I now bless at every hour of my life.

During the next five or so years, HPB was traveling in eastern Europe and the Near East. They are sometimes called the "veiled years" because we know so little about her whereabouts or activities then, but she seems to have contacted the Druzes and other esoteric and mystic groups in the course of her travels. By 1873 she was in Paris visiting a cousin and intending to settle down there. But unexpectedly, she received a letter from her adept teacher directing her to go to America. When her teacher spoke, HPB did not hesitate. So within two days she boarded a ship bound for New York, where she arrived on July 7, about a month before her forty-second birthday, and where it was her destiny to begin her public esoteric work.

The next five and a half years were the American period in HPB's life, and most of the letters in volume 1 of her correspondence date from that time. A year and three months after landing in New York, HPB met Henry Steel Olcott. They immediately struck up (or, it would be more accurate to say, renewed from past lives) a friendship that would last the rest of their lives in their current incarnations and that would generate the Theosophical Society.

Olcott and Blavatsky met at a Spiritualist séance, and her first published article was the result of that experience. Indeed, Spiritualism loomed large in HPB's plans, as she believed it was her calling to show two things: (1) that genuine—rather than spurious—Spiritualist phenomena showed the limitations of the materialistic science of her day and (2) that the phenomena were not what the Spiritualists thought they were. Much of HPB's early correspondence thus deals with Spiritualism—the challenge it posed for science and its misconceptions and foibles.

One of her correspondents at this time was Louisa Andrews, a Spiritualist. But their correspondence was not limited to that subject. Louisa wrote to HPB about a man who frightened her. HPB's answer was clearly intended to buck up the intimidated woman:

Fiddle dee stick! Milady—darling—I defy spirit or mortal, God or Demon to become dangerous to me. I was never controlled & never will be. I don't know a will on earth that would not break like glass in contact or conflict with mine.

Louisa Andrews's comment to a mutual friend was "What a woman she is!" And indeed what a woman she was.

HPB wrote to her sister, Vera, probably in late 1875, concerning the effect of materialism and false science on the then dominant worldview:

Humanity has lost its faith and its higher ideals; materialism and pseudo-science have slain them. The children of this age no longer have faith; they demand proof, proof founded on a scientific basis—and they shall have it. Theosophy, the source of all human religions, will give it to them.

About that same time, HPB was engaged in writing her first book, Isis Unveiled, and of that work she wrote to Vera:

Well, Vera, believe it or not, some enchantment is upon me. You can hardly imagine in what a charmed world of pictures I live! . . . I am writing Isis; not writing, rather copying out and drawing that which she personally is showing me. Really, it seems to me as if the ancient Goddess of Beauty in person leads me through all the lands of bygone centuries which I have to describe. I am sitting with my eyes open and, to all appearances, see and hear everything real and actual around me; and yet at the same time I see and hear that which I write. I feel short of breath; I am afraid to make the slightest movement, for fear the spell might be broken. . . . Slowly, century after century, image after image, float out of nowhere and pass before me as if in a magic panorama; and meanwhile I put them together in my mind, fitting in epochs and dates, and know positively there can be no mistake. . . . It stands to reason, it is not I who do it all, but my Ego, the highest principles that live in me; and even then with the help of my Guru, my teacher, who helps me in everything.

HPB's correspondence reflects the personality of those to whom she was writing as much as it does her own. One of those who was present at the initial formation of the Theosophical Society was an Englishman, Charles C. Massey, a barrister who had come to America to investigate the Spiritualist phenomena about which Colonel Olcott had published articles and a book. HPB wrote to Massey in a sophisticated, worldly, and allusive style quite different from that of much of her other writing. Here are some extracts from a letter of November 1876:

Hail Son of the West,--(End), adept of the Athenaeum, Seer of the Saville; may your shadow never diminish but dazzle the Elmo with its unfailing brightness. . . . Now that I have my infernal book off my hands, my heart yearns after the trans-Atlantic brace of Iamblicho-Apollonians, and Porphyritico-Hermetists. Are they treading with stone-proof and fire-proof sole the rugged path of truth, or wandering in the enticing fields of sense and juvenile fancy? . . .

Of all the flap-doodles, Cora Tappan's last is the greatest. Did you read her masterly dissection of the word Occultism? or her Symbolism on the mother, the letter M and the religion of the ancients? Really, the woman seems to have a Verbo-mania. She gallops furiously through the Dictionaries clutching adjectives, nouns, and verbs with both hands as she passes and crams them into her mouth. It's a perfect Niagara of Spiritual flap-doodle . . .

The cremation of the old Baron [de Palm] will take place next month if nothing prevents. He must be a pretty boy to look at now. The Newspapers begin ringing the bells already, and when the thing comes off you will see the liveliest excitement that this country has ever produced: I have a good mind to cremate myself in the sight of the public together with him (or rather what remains of him, for he has turned into a Baronial broth by this time) and then resuscitate again phoenix-like.

Isis Unveiled was published in 1877, and HPB sent a copy to her relatives, with some trepidation, for her aunt (who was only a little older than she) was a devout Russian Orthodox Christian. Several of the letters to this aunt (who was more like a sister) struggle with trying to convey to her HPB's view of religion, as in the following passage for example:

You are wrong in expressing the opinion, my friend, that I only "cast a glance" towards Christ, but in reality yearn for the Buddha. I look straight into the eyes of Christ, as well as of Gautama the Buddha. That one of them lived twenty-five centuries ago and the other nineteen does not make the slightest difference to me. I see in both of them the identical Divine Spirit. . . . Neither Christ nor Gautama the Buddha nor the Hindu Krishna have ever preached any dogmas.

As the end of this period approached, much of HPB's correspondence was with people in India, to which she was preparing to travel, and that correspondence concerns the momentous change about to occur in her life. She and Colonel Olcott sailed from New York at the end of 1878. They paused for a brief period in England, and in January 1879, shortly before boarding ship in Liverpool to make the long voyage to Bombay, HPB wrote to her sister Vera, sending some photographs taken in England. This is the last letter in volume 1 of her correspondence:

I start for India. Providence alone knows what the future has in store for us. Possibly these portraits shall be the last. Do not forget your orphan-sister, now so in the full meaning of the word.

Good-bye. We start from Liverpool on the 18th. May the invisible powers protect you all!

I shall write from Bombay if I ever reach it.

Elena

This correspondence, in its fullness, of which only a few fragments have been included here, depict a remarkable woman, who was engaged in a remarkable quest: to bring timeless Wisdom to the modern world. She was no saint, but she was dedicated to her mission. She had remarkable powers, but she claimed no special status for herself. She was, in turns, tender and witty, considerate and arch, indignant about fraud and inspirational in her call to Truth. As one of her teachers wrote of her, she was flawed and imperfect—but she was the best available. And the letters she wrote show her in all those aspects.


A Tribute to Clara Codd

Originally printed in the May - June 2004 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Kreeger, Leatrice. "A Tribute to Clara Codd." Quest  92.3 (MAY-JUNE 2004):86-87

By Leatrice Kreeger

Clara Codd was one of the great ladies of the Theosophical movement and as she lectured on a worldwide platform she seemed to embody the very soul of Theosophy. With an unassuming, gentle approach, she played an important role in the rebirth of the occult tradition. Her audience was often unsophisticated workers, miners and farmers who sensed her sincerity and ability to talk directly to the turmoil of their hearts and questions of their minds. She shared a trait common to little children and the saints: She accepted people as they are.

Lest we lose the memory of Clara Codd, we should sweep away the dust that has collected on her books and permit the modern reader to discover some of the gems that sparkle with wit and wisdom. In addition, she encouraged the aspirant to work intimately through contemplation, meditation, and comparison in order to understand the spiritual philosophies of the ages. Inspiration by this approach, known as Lectio Divina, is illumination that occurred like a beam of divine light penetrating the student's heart like light through a stained-glass window.

Clara Codd was born in North Devon, England, in 1876, eldest of ten girls. The first years of her life were spent in a lovely old home surrounded by gardens and trees and attended by servant girls and grooms. Her father was inspector of schools and her mother, half Italian, was a great beauty who saw to their musical and artistic education. Clara and her sisters never attended school nor college but had a succession of governesses who did not stay long.

Her family had no particular religious affiliation but Clara had to learn by memory long passages of Christian scripture. This resulted in a great command of the Bible that would prove useful in her later lecturing years. She read Sir Walter Scott and Thomas Carlyle in her father's library and regarded these writers as the educators of her youth. She was exposed to spiritualism as a teenager, but this did not fulfill her spiritual needs.

Once a seeress told her that she would be on a platform talking to many people accompanied by a sound that resembled the music of Wagner. She also saw her pilgrimage walking always alone.

Clara joined the TS in 1903, and was general secretary of the Australian section from 1935—36. As first national speaker for the English Section in 1906, she became an international lecturer for the rest of her life. She wrote many articles, and books by her include The Ageless Wisdom of Life; The Key to Theosophy (HPB) Simplified Ed.; The Technique of Spiritual Life; The Way of the Disciple; Meditation: It's Practice and Results;The Mystery of Life; The Creative Power; Poems; Theosophy as the Masters See It; Introduction to Patanjalis Yoga; So Rich a Life (Autobiography).

Every morning Clara would set up for study and meditation various translations of a spiritual aphorism. She would then write what she felt the author meant, and compare them with great patience until illumination would flash in. Her classes in the Sutras of Patanjali are remembered to this day as very special by those who were fortunate enough to attend.

Clara's quest was for the way to find divine realization and to add her small voice in helping the rising tide of seekers after reality. She called reality a naked fact. It is everywhere with no name, no label, no partisanship. She succeeds in elevating the traditional orthodoxy of Christ's teachings to a new level, a new light of discovery, by touching an inner, forgotten realm that was common to humanity in our ancient past. She said we needed a large lantern for a large mind, a small lantern for a small mind. In the depths of our souls we come to terms with a greater horizon, one that can embrace the universal Wisdom Tradition.

Clara was "one of those who are artists of life, who are courageous and resolute. They make life more beautiful. They elevate the atmosphere of all those they come in contact with." (Description from the Mahatma Letters—Adepts) Clara passed over in 1971, aged ninety-five, her life dedicated to selflessness and to helping humanity experience the beauty of its own power and wisdom.

We pay a tribute to Clara Codd, who loved beautiful hats and who wore many different hats during her long and inspiring career. She was a champion of the people, a Socialist who became a suffragette, a student of the Ancient Teachings who could distill the wisdom of the ages and inspire crowds of people. She was an animal lover who would weep at the funeral of a canary, a musician who could play the piano and sing to the delight of a Theosophical gathering, and a librarian who had no training except in reading books. After her father died, her mother took all the girls to live in Geneva, Switzerland. They lived in poor circumstances, with Clara teaching English and music in order to keep her sisters in school. She had a brief period of costume modeling from which she never outgrew her love for lavish hats. She earned money touring France and Switzerland singing and accompanying artists on the piano on the concert stage.

After hearing her first theosophical lecture by Colonel Olcott, she said she knew there were those who knew what life meant, where it was going, and what the goal was. She felt that she had come home at last and that one need not die in order to solve the mystery of the universe for it could be found here and now, and she exclaimed that she walked on air. She started her public career as a suffragette in England, becoming an ardent Socialist and champion of the poor and the weak. She became an activist striving to make changes in the age-old patterns of a structure that categorizes people into roles telling them what they can and cannot do. She was asked by the Women's Social and Political Union (WSPU) to demonstrate, at a political gathering honoring Lloyd George by heckling him and shouting, "What about votes for women?" After disrupting the House of Commons, she and Emmeline and Christabel Pankhurst were arrested and taken to jail. It is hard to visualize this refined, little woman confined to Holloway-Gaol, her home for a month. She was confined to a tiny cell, with a straw mattress and a Bible. Being a vegetarian, she found the food extremely limited and felt like a rat in a trap, but she managed to philosophize that prison harmed, rather than taught, the human spirit because it alleviated all responsibility to those imprisoned as well as denigrated their self-respect. She said that all human relations and ties are broken and one becomes a number, living a life calculated to destroy all initiative and hope.

Clara then decided that Theosophy held the key to her heart. After the first conscious spiritual connection, her life took on a pattern of flight that never ceased to have wings that carried her to an international audience, from book to book and from insight to wisdom, as she followed her heart. When she was first asked to speak in front of a Theosophical audience, she doubted her ability to do so, as both deep joy and fear filled her being. She was honored to work for a sacred cause. She knew she had to try. Clara acted on the principle that subsequently ruled her life, dedication to service to humanity through the Theosophical Society. Lecturing then became her life's work and gave her many precious experiences.

She said that we were on the eve of a New Age and that the Christ was a living Christ here and now. She taught that each of us is a living center of radiating light and that it is more important that our brother be happy than ourselves. The aspirant should ever be hopeful and courageous for the tremendous times to come, for it is an honor to be alive and witness the changes to come. The hours of affliction will presage the dawn of a coming age; it will be the first truly spiritually minded humanity to inhabit the Earth, and we will really be our brothers' keepers.

Love and courage were her by words. And we progress into this new millennium one could add that no lesson was learned, nor tear shed in vain, and that charity toward the past is the faith and hope of the future.


In Memory of Emily Sellon

Originally printed in the May - June 2004 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Weber, Renée. “In Memory of Emily Sellon.” Quest  92.3 (MAY-JUNE 2004):89-90

By Renée Weber

Emily Sellon’s life was shaped by love and unified in beauty. It was so remarkably fulfilled, so gifted and varied, enveloped by such abundant love, that it might have been several lives at once. Such a multilayered life was necessary to Emily, for she could settle for nothing less than an active relationship to the mystery of the vast universe. What her depth made necessary, her vitality made possible. Emily was blessed with a rare and seemingly inexhaustible energy on which she drew confidently and which remained with her to the end of her life. I believe, as she did, that it was the energy of love.

 

Her love expressed itself in action in many forms: devotion, support, friendship, dedication, companionship, altruism, selflessness, practical help; it could move from awe to wit or whimsy—whatever seemed appropriate. Emily’s love radiated to her close knit family and to the human family as a whole, to the world of plants and animals, to philosophical principles from East and West, and above all to Theosophy. It was the center of her spiritual life, its inspiration since her girlhood, when, as she put it, she fell irrevocably in love with it at her very first encounter. In its study, teaching, writing, and practical activities she found inspiration, challenge, and fulfillment; her audiences caught the enthusiasm, grateful for her erudition and her tireless dedication.

Through her Theosophical life she became associated with Fritz Kunz, a kindred spirit who inspired Emily for the decades she worked with him in various capacities on Main Currents in Modern Thought and with whom she could pursue the integration of the great theosophical principles, which they brought into the age of science, and with Greek theosophical predecessors. Emily was also close to Dora Kunz, one of her most trusted friends, and helped give birth to Dora’s books on healing and the human energy field. As president and vice president of the Theosophical Society in America, Dora and Emily initiated many novel events.

Although it was a group venture, Emily was instrumental in formulating “The Theosophical World View,” an eloquent condensation of the essence of Theosophy. To share just one phrase with you, here is her elegant credo near the end of that document: “Devotion to truth, love for all living beings, and commitment to a life of active altruism are the marks of the true Theosophist.” This credo was part of her, and by it she lived her life.

I have said that Emily’s life was shaped by love and unified in beauty, and so it was. Her search for their integration ran like a melody through her life. Before I share that perception with you, for it captured something utterly fundamental in Emily’s spirit, I want to turn from these high planes to evoke another, more personal side of my mentor and friend. For my friend she was! How blessed am I in these twenty some years of closeness with her. My delight in her being grew, and I never tired of talking with her. We would go on for hours on subjects serious and even frivolous, for her sense of humor was fantastic. Sometimes John would come in, feigning astonishment: “Are you two still at it?” he would ask, knowing full well that as far as we were concerned, we had scarcely begun a conversation that could have no real end. We talked on land, in water, in the air at 30,000 feet, and even under water, in the delight of snorkeling, which Emily taught me.

We enjoyed writing together. The same intensity, concentration, pleasure, and—yes—fun characterized our joint articles and other writings, lectures for symposia and conferences, book chapters, traveling together. Emily made everything seem special. She had the gift of investing anything she did with weight and meaning. Nothing was ever mundane to her; everything glowed and was special, luminous under her tutelage. She stamped it all with an immediacy and a contagious sense of adventure.

To many of us, she embodied the beauty and harmony, the elegance and simplicity, that she found in the great Platonic ideas. As above, so below. The hermetic dictum.The messenger became the embodiment, perfect or less than perfect: What did it matter when her irrepressible spirit lavished itself on the beauty she perceived?

Hers was a life shaped by love and unified by beauty. And so I turn to beauty, for this too contains the essence of the Emily I knew. She saw beauty as realized or as potential in all things, and where it was lacking, she created it herself, with her artistic talent and taste. But lest we misunderstand her, the beauty she sought and saw was no mere aestheticism, and her lifelong work on its behalf was no random busyness. What she shaped with love was the inner essence of beauty expressed in outer form, a beauty that existed beyond matter, time, and space. For Emily beauty evoked the other great Platonic realities, the true and the good, expressing the timeless in time.

Her window on the world was beauty. Through it she saw the spiritual source expressing itself in the material. To her, they were one. When Emily nurtured her garden, fed her birds or wild swans, and created environments of harmony, order, and peace, she was not decorating but making visible the great invisible universals that to her were reality itself. In nature, art, artifacts, ideas, and people, she saw the true and the good. For if her window was beauty, what she perceived through it she perceived with nonjudgmental eyes. Her compassionate spirit seldom forgot that it had chosen the path of love.

Emily was not sentimental. Hers was a vision akin to the pure vision of mathematicians, who see truth in the beauty of their equations. So it was with her. Beauty was but the beginning; the inner essence of it she knew best in meditation, a profound center of her life on which she chose to remain mostly silent.

The energy of Emily’s love gave one a sense of well-being. A stay with her and John was a gift: It nourished physically, intellectually, and spiritually. The sacred and the daily were interwoven, and one felt complete. “Man is a plant, whose roots are up in heaven”—Plato’s description fits Emily well. She loved the earthy flower she planted and nourished and the transcendent reality that made its existence possible.

One facet of Emily’s personality that revealed the depth of her spiritual aspirations was her diffidence. Despite the strong personality that thrust countless leadership roles on her, Emily often told me that her ardent wish in this life was to dwell in the background. A learning experience which she had set for herself, she espoused it with her whole being.

This diffidence I see as a paradox weaving through her life. It is as if she wanted to disappear into the great principles that she taught, wanted to become transparent to them, so that others would see the teachings and not her. But this was not to be. The more she tried to become transparent to the ideas, the more we saw the ideas because of Emily. Hence we perceived her in all her shimmering beauty and goodness, the one who made these wonders come alive for us. We loved her all the more because in those difficult and exalting discourses, the bridge was Emily.

Her form is gone, but she believed with all her being that the inner essence outlasts the form; that the spirit is made of stuff so powerful and subtle that nothing can destroy it; that it exists beyond time and death, transcending both in its continuing journey; and that nothing can part those who love one another, for love, she said, is the strongest force there is. And though I shall miss her painfully, I know that the timeless self of Emily is here, is now, is with us still, and continues to enrich our lives.


Sandcastles

By Betty Bland

Originally printed in the MAY-JUNE 2005 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Bland, Betty. "Sandcastles." Quest  93.3 (MAY-JUNE 2005):84-85

Theosophical Society - Betty Bland served as President of the Theosophical Society in America and made many important and lasting contributions to the growth and legacy of the TSA. THE SEASHORE IS A MEETING GROUND FOR LAND and sky, sea and sand, water and air, leisure and learning. Children and adults can while away many hours building among the lapping waves and warm sands on the shore. In the early years, a child or two might begin very awkwardly by filling up a bucket, packing the sand tightly, and then inverting it on the selected spot to create a magical flat-topped volcano. The children and the volcano both stand proudly above the surrounding sand.

As children develop over weeks, months, and years, their creations become more complex. The shape of the upturned pail spurs the imagination, and the beach becomes a building site for mountains, castles, roads, and tunnels. Sometimes, the children add interesting shells, toy cars, and actions figures to enhance a growing fortress.

The children build and build—their structures grow and grow—until a stray animal or person comes running through, knocking things helter-skelter. Or a wave of the incoming tide overreaches the water¹s former bounds and melts their masterpiece.

At first, the children are disturbed that anyone or anything might tamper with their work of art, but soon they come to terms with its impermanence. In fact, as part of the learning process, or perhaps as an expression of frustration at a fickle universe, the children might begin building fantastic creations and tear them down before the waves can get them.

The children grow through their frustration, through their creativity, and through the rebuilding process. Over time, it matters less when a wave washes the work away; the children know they can rebuild. Gradually, they become better sandcastle builders. They incorporate their growing skills until the sandcastles always exist in potential—just waiting for the right sunny day at the beach.

In our daily lives, we are constantly invited to learn new skills. As the skills develop, we create products—a painting, a paper, decorated house, a bit of software. Each product becomes a source of pride. We may begin falteringly, but after we invest a project with our time, energy, creativity, and commitment, we slip easily into feelings of ownership. We become attached to the permanency of the thing we¹ve made.

As the Buddha said, clinging to permanency in this impermanent world causes a great deal of pain. I experienced some of this kind of pain when I worked with mainframe computers as a supervising systems analyst in state government. Sometimes we would spend weeks, or even months, on a particular project and just when we felt it was coming together, the entire definition of the project would change. Funding would be diverted, politics would change, or the state would reassess its needs.

Whatever the reason for the sudden change, the fact remained that a huge wave had washed over our machinations, and we felt crushed. There were many things we could still be thankful for. We still had our paychecks, our families, our health. But at the moment, those things didn¹t count. We team members were caught up in an attachment to our investment. At times like these, it was helpful to take a step back from those attachments and look at the bigger picture. Our project was much like a sandcastle at the beach. It changed, as everything will change.

The tighter we hold on to things, the more easily they seem to crumble. And yet each time we build, we gain wisdom about the process. We gain powers of concentration and greater delivery skills. We gain inner resources and strengths. Those, we can keep. And through them, we develop the ability to build better sandcastles.

If we apply ourselves to kindness and service, they too become a part of our inner reserve. This can be what Jesus meant when he said, ". . . store up treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust will destroy nor thieves break in and steal." The great treasures we are storing are tendencies and qualities of being, built by the ordinary days of our lives, well lived.

Hindu philosophy calls these bundles of characteristics the skandas those tendencies which are carried over from lifetime to lifetime and are very much a part of the mechanism through which karmic predicaments are met. The skandas become treasures as they are gradually transformed through our efforts to live conscientiously.

The waves of time do not destroy the beauty of skill in action, single-minded commitment to the betterment of humanity, and a loving heart. These continue as lasting treasures—the sandcastles stored within our inner beings.


The Believers

By Roderick Bradford

Originally printed in the MAY-JUNE 2005 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Bradford, Roderick. "The Believers." Quest  93.3 (MAY-JUNE 2005):91-95, 105

They [Shakers] are industrious, frugal and honest people, and so far as religion is concerned they probably have an article that is as practical, as useful and as sincere as any in the world.

—D. M. Bennett

The Truth Seeker, November 18, 1882

Theosophical Society - Roderick Bradford is the author of The Truth Seeker: D.M. Bennet, The Nineteenth Century's Most Controversial Publisher and American Free-Speech Martyr, from which this article is excerpted.

"Mr. Bennett was a deeply religious man," a close friend declared at the dedication of the monument erected to honor the founder of The Truth Seeker. This sounds preposterous, considering that D. M. Bennett was nineteenth-century America's most outspoken, relentless, and notorious critic of Christianity and all organized religions. The woman went on to explain her provocative statement by quoting Thomas Paine's motto: "To do good is my religion." If that was Paine's highest work, she argued, this made it his religion. "It is in this sense that Mr. Bennett was a religious man; and if we measure his religion by the measure of his devotion to his work, he was a deeply religious man."

DeRobigne Mortimer Bennett (1818—1882) was the most revered and reviled publisher-editor of the Gilded Age. In 1873, at the beginning of the antireligion campaign in America, Bennett and his wife, Mary Wicks Bennett founded The Truth Seeker and devoted it to "Science, Morals, Free thought, and Human Happiness." The Bennetts, like many of their fellow freethinkers, were former devout Christians who retained a good deal of Christianity's moral spirit. Bennett opposed dogmatic religion and took great pride in debunking the Bible, exposing hypocritical clergymen, and reminding Americans that the government of the United States was "not in any sense founded on the Christian religion." He argued that Abraham Lincoln and many of the founding fathers were, like his hero Thomas Paine, deists or infidels, the most noteworthy of them being Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington.

The Bennetts were involved with controversial movements throughout their lives. As spiritualists and theosophists, the couple met while they were members of the United Society of Believers in Christ's Second Appearing, more commonly known as the Shakers. The Shakers were a celibate communitarian sect that originated in England as an offshoot of the Quakers. Due to the spiritualistic sect's ecstatic and often violent shaking contortions during their religious services, they were derided as Shaking Quakers. Eventually they were called Shakers, although some of the founders preferred the name Alethians, as they considered themselves "children of the truth."

The Shakers, who would become known more for their furniture craftsmanship than their religious beliefs, came to America in 1774. When Ann Lee (1736—1784), an English religious visionary, and her followers arrived from England. Although Ann Lee believed in celibacy, she had married in England at her parents' insistence and had four children; all died in infancy. Ann Lee joined the Wardleys, a group of former Quakers who encouraged their followers to attack sin and preach publicly of the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. It was subsequently believed that in Ann Lee the promise of the Second Coming was fulfilled. She became the religious sect's charismatic leader and was imprisoned for dancing, shouting, and blasphemy of the Sabbath. She reportedly "miraculously" escaped death on several occasions and claimed to be able to speak in tongues. Her followers referred to her as "Mother in spiritual things," and she called herself "Ann, the Word." In 1774 Ann Lee received a "revelation" instructing her to take a select group of Shakers to America.

The Shakers first settled in an isolated area outside of Albany, New York. Their pacifism drew scorn and persecution during the American Revolution, and Ann Lee was imprisoned for a few months in 1780. She died on September 8, 1784, but her followers continued to grow in number and Shaker communities flourished. The Shakers erected a meetinghouse for worship at New Lebanon, New York, in 1785.

When fourteen year-old, DeRobigne Bennett arrived on September 12, 1833, the Society of Believers at New Lebanon numbered nearly five hundred men, women, and children. The New Lebanon community was the largest of the sixteen villages that were located in eight states and the "Jerusalem" of Shakerism.

A few years before Bennett arrived at New Lebanon, James Fenimore Cooper visited the community and wrote that he had never seen any "villages as neat, and so perfectly beautiful, as to order and arrangement, without, however, being picturesque or ornamented, as those of the Shakers." Cooper also declared the Believers "deluded fanatics," albeit clean and orderly. Another distinguished visitor was Charles Dickens, who was critical of the manner in which the Shakers gained members: "they take proselytes persons so young that they cannot know their own minds, and cannot possess much strength of resolution in this or any other respect." The four Shaker virtues were Christian communism, virgin purity, separation from the world, and confession of sin, which one had to perform to become a member. The teenage Bennett might well have been one of the proselytes that Dickens thought too young to know his own mind. Nevertheless, considering the young man's impoverished background, it is understandable that his first impression of New Lebanon was favorable: "I was most kindly received in a family of some 75 genial kindhearted Brethren and Sisters who lived happily on the community plan with plenty around them on every side."

Since the Shakers were celibate, they depended on converts (sometimes orphans) from "the world." The Society had something to offer almost everybody, at least temporarily. Newcomers joined for different reasons and were Believers of varying degrees of commitment. Some "bread and butter" or "winter Shakers" arrived only to take advantage of the food and shelter for brief periods. Some joined only to depart soon, while others stayed longer but did not participate wholeheartedly and eventually apostatized. Others arrived with their whole families. One such family was the Wickses from Reading, New York. Mary Wicks joined the Shakers when she was five years old and became a beloved caretaker and teacher.

After a visit of ten days, Bennett, who came from a poverty-stricken home, decided to join the Shakers. He fulfilled the first requirement and confessed his sins, which he later described as "not a very black list at the time." A Shaker journal entry recorded the event: "DeRobigne Bennett opened his mind and set out with Believers." Soon after joining, he wrote to his mother and sister to invite them to join him at New Lebanon. (Mrs. Bennett's commitment to the Society was not as firm as her children's, and she would periodically leave and return.) For the next thirteen years he would be a Shaker "acknowledging the correctness of their faith and believing they were living more acceptable to God than any others of the children of men."

Relationships and intimate contact with the opposite sex were forbidden, and male and female Believers nearly always remained separated. They never shook hands or touched, and they spent their days and nights in a communal social order. Some interaction and a few wholesome persions were permitted but always limited and closely monitored. Evenings were spent at worship meetings or family meetings where elders read aloud excerpts from periodicals, books, and even newspapers. Some evenings were spent learning new hymns and singing. The busy Shaker schedule left no time for contemplation or loneliness, and church elders strongly believed that an idle mind was the devil's workshop.

At least once a week "union meetings" were held in which both male and female members were afforded the opportunity to be together, in a group and under close scrutiny. Half a dozen or more sisters would enter the brethren's quarters and sit across the room, and engaging in light conversation mostly confined to Society matters. Any instances of a "special liking" or "sparking" between individual members of the opposite sex were monitored and likely reported to an elder.

Bennett spent his first winter at New Lebanon attending school and working in the seed gardens. "He was possessed of marked individuality and more than average intellectual ability," a journal entry noted. Bennett also worked as a furniture maker and herbalist. The Shakers were the first group in America to grow herbs for the burgeoning pharmaceutical market. From spending several years in the Shaker medical environment, he grew familiar with the sciences of botany and chemistry and became the community physician. Bennett was also a ministry-appointed journalist during the most intense spiritualistic period in Shaker history, the Era of Manifestations. "I have understood from those who knew him intimately," a prominent Shaker spokeswoman wrote, "that he was thoroughly upright, of apparently strong religious convictions and sensitive to spiritual influences."

In the late 1830s a revival of spiritualistic activity occurred among the Shakers. The Shakers were spiritualists before the modern spiritualism movement began in 1848. In a sense, the Shakers were the forerunners of the spiritualism movement that became popular in America and later Europe. Ann Lee and the other founding members believed in spirits apart from the human body and that they could and did communicate with them and receive "revelations."

The Era of Manifestations, or "Mother Ann's Work," as it was known, was a period filled with messages and visions from the spirit world. The spiritualistic outburst preoccupied the Shakers for nearly a decade and both revitalized and weakened the Society. With a declining membership and a growing number of apostasies, mostly young Shakers, the Society's elders welcomed the restoration of the charismatic spirit gifts. Although numerous accounts of spiritual manifestations occurred during the 1830s, including inspired dreams, prophetic visions, and speaking in tongues, it was not until 1837 that the church elders proclaimed a new Era of Manifestations. During a worship service, a group of ten- to fourteen-year-old girls exhibited unusual trancelike behavior. Some spoke in tongues, while others saw visions and communicated with angels in heavenly places. Others, as if possessed by spirits, shook, jerked, and twirled about. Some talked to Mother Ann and other first-generation leading Shakers and were given gift songs, dances, and rituals to share with their fellow Believers. Those individual Shakers who received these gifts were called "visionists" or "instruments" and because of their unique abilities became influential and slightly controversial. In some ways Mother Ann's work helped revitalize the Society; in other ways it widened the generation gap that already existed.

Shaker instruments played an important role during the Era of Manifestations and believed themselves called and chosen. The ministry designated as "official" some instruments whom they felt were divinely inspired. Because of their sacred calling and personal sacrifices, instruments were separated from the other Believers. The instruments were thought by the Shakers to be their connection to the "celestial sphere" where inhabitants like Ann Lee and other founding members existed. During this spiritualistic period, the inspired gifts included songs, drawings, and revelations carefully recorded by journal keepers or scribes. The same meticulous attention to detail that the Shakers had paid to their family, furniture making, and business records was given to these important documents. These manuscripts were of immense importance and were believed to be divinely inspired.

The first year of the Era of Manifestations was the same year that Bennett became an official journal keeper, recording, collecting and transcribing the Society's most important communications and revelations. Bennett was mindful of the importance of his status as a journalist. In a self-effacing statement made on January 1, 1840, he promised to be "more brief" in the journal that he had been keeping for three years, which he "kept considerable of a full & minute account of the work of God & the movings of the spirit among us." But, he added, "when there is particular inspiration or revelation or anything that will be considered most worthy to be recorded, I shall endeavor to give as comprehensive a description as my feeble abilities will allow."

During the Era of Manifestations, every year seemed to present new and more mysterious developments. In 1841, Holy Mother Wisdom spoke through a chosen instrument. Bennett recorded that the feminine deity's visit lasted over a week, examining members and speaking "love and blessing." The most delightful and discernible spiritualistic gifts were the drawings and paintings rendered by Shaker artists while under the inspiration of the spirits. These inspired instruments, or "image makers," as they were known, produced unworldly religious pictures that became important to the Believers, a community that in the past forbade any type of "superfluous" pictures, portraits, images, engravings, or likeness of any kind, especially "art." One of the revered image makers was Mary Wicks. The visionary art works were presents for older members for their devoted service to the Society.

In 1842, at the height of the Era of Manifestations, the lead ministry instructed each village to prepare a sacred site for an outdoor feast and ritual activity. These sites, chosen by instruments under inspiration, were believed by Shakers to be the holiest of places on earth. The sacred feast ground at New Lebanon was at the top of a mountain, within walking distance of the community. Beginning in May 1842, this "Holy Mount" would be the site of the Society's most sacred and important celebrations. Bennett, the twenty-three-year-old community scribe, chronicled the seminal first meeting on the mount. On May 1, 1842, at 5 A.M, he wrote, the members of the Church Order gathered together "in the meeting room to receive the blessing of the Ancients [oldest Shakers] who were not going upon the Mount." The day's historical significance was expressed by one of his fellow journalists, who wrote:

This is a memorable day & long to be remembered, being a day lately in instituted by pine authority to be observed a feast or Passover, to be kept yearly, sacred to Holy & Eternal Wisdom. The Church, (Except some of the aged & those unable to go), all marched up the mountain, to the Holy consecrated ground, & assembled there to perform religious devotion.

Bennett's written account of the esoteric religious rituals that May is a fascinating document filled with descriptions of peculiar phenomena and inspirational messages. The day began with the members singing the song "Feast of Lord," followed by the Believers kneeling and being blessed by the Ancients. Most of the activity that day consisted of elaborate mime and playful worship. One of the "messages," however, revealed a subconscious discontent among some instruments and would prove to be a presage. While under inspiration John Allen came forward and stated:

Who has doubts? What doubts? saith the Prophet (Isaiah) Many answered & said they had none. Well said the Prophet I have doubts.

The Instrument was then taken under violent operations, thrown on the ground & rolled over. he was then raised up, & the P' [Prophet] said I guess I shall get rid of them now.

Due to his responsibilities as a physician and herbalist, Bennett was occasionally required to leave the New Lebanon community for business. These local day trips afforded him an opportunity to interact with fellow Shakers, some of whom decided to leave the society. Journal entries for the period show an increased number of departures and the reproachful attitude of Shaker journalists. As the apostasy rate increased, the journal entries included more pointed remarks regarding the apostates. Bennett gave a ride to two departing Shakers who, a journalist wrote, "chose rather to live among the world than with us." One entry noted that two sisters made their choice "to go away into the wide world of sin." Another Shaker, "loving his own way much better than the gospel," was determined "to have a swing in the world of pleasure & sin. . ."

In the mid-1840s, Believers began to lose interest in spiritual gifts and communications. Messages from deceased Shaker founders or leaders were replaced by "revelations" from historical figures Washington, Jefferson, and Christopher Columbus. Some instruments claimed to have received spiritual communications from American Indians. Shaker leaders were finding it increasingly difficult to determine the authenticity of spiritual "gifts" that were beginning to border on the absurd. Other messages were scolding and admonished against the ways of the flesh. A sister brazenly informed elder Frederick Evans of her revelation from Ann Lee that the Society should discontinue celibacy! An atmosphere of cynicism bordering on anarchism developed among many of the younger members and several of the important official instruments. The relations between the sexes became troublesome for the church elders. The Shakers were after all human, and occasionally a "sparking" would occur within the community. These taboo relationships might begin during a union meeting or while brethren and sisters were working in close proximity.

The New Lebanon Society began losing members, including some instruments from the Church Family—the most devout Shakers in the community. In 1846, the rate of apostasy in the Church Family was nearly 15 percent. "In the summer of 1846 a spirit of dissatisfaction and discontent overspread the minds of many of the young folks in the society," Bennett recalled, "and the faith in the Shaker religion had lessened."

On September 12, 1846—thirteen years to the day of his arrival—Bennett and three other Shakers, including his sister, eloped. It was the most shocking apostasy in the history of the Shakers. A contemporary journal entry remarks on this terrible event:

An astonishing & awful event this day occurs, by the sudden & unsuspected absconding of four our members, viz —John Allen, Derobigne M. Bennett, Mary Wicks & Letsey Ann Bennett!!!!— They had very privately concerted the plan, agree with a man at the pool to come with a carriage & take them, which he did, coming up the round by the gristmill, as far as the house below and burying ground. The 4 walked off not far distant from each other pretending to be going on some common business, no one suspected them, tho they were seen, excepting in one or two cases, when too late. They all went to the pool where some of our Deacons afterward went to settle with them--

It is unknown when DeRobigne Bennett and Mary Wicks began their relationship. Shaker leaders suspected that the apostates planned their departure during a union meeting. A church elder announced that the marriages were the first to be contracted at the New Lebanon church family, home of the most devoted Believers. One month following their apostasy, the Elder declared, "the time had come for particular union to be abolished, and a general union to be substituted in its place... it went into effect last sabbath."

The Allen-Bennett apostasy was a traumatic event that had perse and lasting effects on the participants and the remaining members of the Society. All four of them had been Shakers since childhood, and later Bennett recalled: "The parting from the home and friends of so many years was a severe trial. It seemed almost like 'pulling the heartstrings.'" In spite of this, however, the Bennetts stayed on very friendly terms with the Shakers for the rest of their lives. At the time that Bennett began publishing The Truth Seeker, free speech came under attack by Anthony Comstock, America's self-appointed arbiter of morals. Comstock was a special agent of the U.S. Post Office and secretary and chief vice hunter for the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, an organization that was part of the social purity crusade. Comstock, self described "weeder in God's garden," who bragged of driving fifteen people to suicide, waged war on "obscene" books and freethinking writers and publishers. Bennett challenged the puritanical Comstock laws and was arrested three times and convicted in 1879 for mailing Cupid's Yokes, a free-love pamphlet critical of the marriage institution and Anthony Comstock. "The charge is ostensibly 'obscenity,'" Bennett wrote. "But the real offense is that I presume to utter sentiments and opinions in opposition to the views entertained by the Christian church." The elderly editor's conviction and imprisonment became a cause célèbre for freethinkers and free speech proponents. At this time, however, the Shakers came to his defense. Shaker elders visited him in jail, defended him in print, and petitioned President Rutherford B. Hayes to pardon the "illustrious martyr, suffering from acts of the most devilish bigotry of our day." (Although Hayes pardoned Ezra Heywood, the author of Cupid's Yokes, and admitted in his diary that the pamphlet was not "obscene," he refused to pardon D. M. Bennett.)

The Shakers were known for their simplicity, humility, order, peace, and simple goodness. And while their strict rules of celibacy, strange modes of worship, and separatism eventually caused their demise, they certainly attracted men and women with integrity, personality, and virtue. In studying their lives and reading their words, it is difficult to believe that such intelligent individuals were only "deluded fanatics." During an age of seeking, a Shaker historian wrote, "Shakerism was a clear answer to the question: What shall I do to be saved? It offered a discipline and a means of service. And in the end it bore fruit of abundance . . . And as the world slowly absorbs another dissident faith, much remains to record the seeking, and in some measures the finding, of truth, and beauty, and light."


References

Andrews, Edward Deming. The People Called Shakers: A Search for the Perfect Society. New York: Dover Publications, 1963.

Bennett, DeRobigne M. The Truth Seeker, 1873-1911. Microfilm. Washington, D.C.: The Library of Congress.

———. A Statement of The First Meeting held on the Holy Mount when The Whole Church assembled there. May 1st 1842. Collected and Transcribed by Derobigne M. Bennett. Old Chatham, N.Y.: Shaker Museum and Library.

Brewer, Patricia J. Shaker Communities, Shaker Lives. Hanover, N.H.: University Press of New England, 1986.

Foster, Lawrence. Religion and Sexuality: Three American Communal Experiments of the Nineteenth Century. New York: Oxford University Press, 1981.

Morse, Flo. The Shakers and the World's People. Hanover, N.H.: University of New England Press, 1987.

Nordhoff, Charles. Communist Societies of the United States: From Personal Visit and Observations. New York: Hillary House, 1960.

Paterson, Daniel W. Gift Drawing and Gift Song: A Study of Two Forms of Shaker Inspiration. Sabbath day Lake, Maine: United Society of Shakers, 1983.

Promey, Salley M. Spiritual Spectacles: Vision and Image in Mid-Nineteenth Century Shakerism. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1993.

Stein, Stephen J.The Shaker Experience in America: A History of the United Society of Believers. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1992.


Roderick Bradford is the author of The Truth Seeker: D.M. Bennet, The Nineteenth Century's Most Controversial Publisher and American Free-Speech Martyr, from which this article is excerpted.


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