Quest Magazine

Printed in the  Winter 2022 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Bowen, P.G., "The Ancient Wisdom in Africa" Quest 110:1, pg 34-40

By P.G. Bowen

P.G. (Patrick) Bowen (1882–1940), like his father, Robert Bowen (1815–1908), is a shadowy figure in early Theosophical history. (See "Blavatsky on How to Study Theosophy” in Quest, fall 2021.)

 As far as can be determined, Robert Bowen, described as a direct pupil of H.P. Blavatsky, took his son on a visit to Africa shortly after HPB’s death in 1891, when the boy was about ten. The journey was ostensibly in search of traditional African wisdom. The father and son met a “witch doctor,” Mankanyezi, whose teachings are recounted below.

A few years later, Patrick ran away from home in Ireland to work for a British company in Africa. He dates this to the time of the Jameson raid on the Transvaal (mentioned below), which took place in 1895–96.

P.G. Bowen, a Theosophist like his father, was a distinguished writer on linguistics and the occult. His other works include The True Occult Path and The Sayings of the Ancient One.

For more information, see “The Secret Doctrine and Its Study: Pamphlet by Robert Bowen,” by Yvonne Burgess of the London Theosophical Society; also a brief biographical note about P.G. Bowen, which appears as a foreword to The Sayings of the Ancient One, 2d. ed. (London: Theosophical Publishing House, 1985).

This article previously appeared in Studies in Comparative Religion 3, no. 2 (spring 1969), © World Wisdom, Inc. Reprinted with permission.    —Ed.

That Asia is the source from whence all philosophy sprang is a universally accepted belief; and that Europe is the custodian and preserver of the knowledge originated in the elder continent will likewise be generally maintained. Few ever consider that Africa also was once the home of a learning as profound as any Asia can show; and few, if any, will believe that such learning remains alive today among the inhabitants of the Dark Continent. Yet that such is the truth, I assert, and shall endeavor to make clear in the following pages.

Many years ago, when I, a boy of ten or twelve years of age, followed my father’s wagon through the wild bushlands of the Northern Transvaal, Portuguese East Africa, and Mashonaland, I met and gained the friendship of many natives—principally Zulus—of the class known as isanusi, a term popularly but improperly interpreted as “witch doctor.” Why those men, who with Europeans and even with their own people are always intensely reserved, should have favored me with their confidence is something I do not, even now, clearly understand, yet they certainly did so.

I recall a conversation with one of their number, by name, Mankanyezi (“the starry one”), with whom I was particularly intimate, which impressed me deeply; so much so that I have never forgotten it. My father had declared his intention of placing me in care of a missionary in order that I might receive some education and learn white men’s ways. I repeated his words to Mankanyezi, who shook his head doubtfully on hearing them and said:

Your teachers are doubtless learned men. But why do they strive to force their beliefs on us without first learning what our beliefs are? Not one of them, not even Sobantu [Bishop Colenso Sobantu, a great authority on native tongues], knows anything of our real belief. They think that we worship the spirits of our ancestors; that we believe our spirits, when we die, enter the bodies of animals. They, without proof or without enquiry, condemn us, the isanusi, as deluders of our more ignorant brethren; or else they declare us to be wicked wizards having dealings with evil spirits.

To show how ignorant they are, I shall tell you what we teach the common man (ordinary native). We teach that he has a body; that within that body is a soul; and within the soul is a spark or portion of something we call Itongo, which the common man interprets as the Universal Spirit of the tribe. We teach that after death the soul (idhlozi), after hovering for a space near the body departs to a place called Esilweni (“place of beasts”). This is a very different thing, as you can see, from entering the body of a beast.

In Esilweni, the soul assumes a shape part beast and part human. This is its true shape, for man’s nature is very like that of the beast, save for that spark of something higher, of which common man knows but little. For a period which is long or short, according to the strength of the animal nature, the soul remains in Esilweni, but at last it throws aside its beastlike shape and moves onward to a place of rest. There it sleeps till a time comes when it dreams that something to do or to learn awaits it on earth, then it awakes and returns, through the Place of Beasts, to earth and is born again as a child.

Again and again does the soul travel through the body, through the Place of Beasts, to its rest, dreams its dream, and returns to the body; till at last the man becomes true Man, and his soul when he dies goes straight to its rest, and thence, after a space, having ceased to dream of earth, moves on and becomes one with that from which it came—the Itongo.

Then does the Man know that instead of being but himself apart, he is truly all the tribe, and the tribe is he. This is what we teach, I say, for this is the utmost the common man is capable of comprehending; indeed many have only a vague comprehension even of this much. But the belief of us wiser ones is something far wider and greater, though similar. It is far too wide and great for common man’s comprehension—or for yours, at present.

But I may say this much, that we know that the Itongo is not the mere Spirit of the tribe, but is the Spirit within and above all men—even all things; and that at the end, all men being one in Spirit, all are brothers in the flesh.

Mankanyezi was a pure Zulu, of the royal blood. What his age might have been, I do not know, but certainly he was at least seventy. He was a tall, lean man, light chocolate in color, of a distinctly Jewish cast of countenance, without a trace of the Negroid, with the exception of his snow-white hair, which was frizzled. Both by the natives and by the few white hunters who knew him he was regarded as a powerful magician, but only once did I get a glimpse of this side of his character.

A year or two subsequent to the talk above quoted, in company with a famous Boer hunter named Sarel Du Pont, I met Mankanyezi near the Limpopo River. “You go on a far journey,” he said after some preliminary remarks.

“Only as far as the Zambezi,” replied my companion.

Mankanyezi shook his head. “Much farther, I think. You will, ere you again see this river, visit the Great Lake of the North (Lake Nyassa). To the eastward of that lake, you will visit the springs of another river, and there you will meet one of my elder brothers.”

“Indeed,” said Du Pont, “if it should happen that we go so far, which is not our intention, how are we to know this brother of yours? I suppose he is not your brother in reality, but merely one in the Spirit, as you say all men are?”

“He is, as you say, not my brother in the flesh. I call him my elder brother because he is an elder in the family (society) to which I belong, whose members are the guardians of the Wisdom-which-comes-from-of-old. There are many of us—one at least in every tribe and nation—throughout this great land. We are of many ranks, from the learner to the Master, and to those higher ones whose names may not be spoken, I am a common Brother; he of whom I speak is my Elder.”

“But,” I asked in some surprise, “how can you know this man, seeing you have often told me you have never traveled beyond the Zambezi?”

“I know him, because I have often seen him, though not in the flesh. Often have we spoken together. Do you think the mind of man can travel only in the flesh? Do you think thought is limited by the power of the body? See this, and try to understand.”

As he spoke he pointed to a lizard which basked in the sun nearby. Fixing his eyes upon it, he extended his hand, palm upward, towards it, and began to breathe slowly and regularly. In a few seconds, the beady eyes of the little reptile turned towards him. It took a little run forward, then stopped, its sides expanding and contracting rhythmically. After a few seconds’ further pause, it again darted forward and settled itself upon the old man’s open palm. He let it rest for a minute, then slid it gently among the leaves, where it quickly concealed itself. He looked at us and smiled gently. “That is witchcraft (ubutakati), perhaps you will say,” he said; “perhaps I sent an evil spirit to call the lizard to me. Or perhaps it is itself an evil spirit which serves me. If I tell you that my mind went out and entered its brain and our two minds became one, you will not believe. Some day, perhaps, you will understand.”

Over a year later, near the source of the Rovuma River, to the east of Lake Nyassa, we put up at a native village, and there met an old man (a Masai—not a Zulu) who greeted us as friends of his brother Mankanyezi. From careful enquiries made by my companion, it became certain that this man and Mankanyezi could never have met. The one had certainly never been south of the Zambezi, and equally certainly the other had never been north of the river. Yet there was no question of their intimate knowledge of each other, a knowledge which could not have been gained secondhand, for a thousand miles separated their dwelling places, and the tribes had no point of contact whatsoever.

About the time of Dr. Jameson’s raid on the Transvaal [1895–96], I entered the service of the B.S.A. Co. (Chartered Company), and since then, down to 1924, I was almost continually employed by one or other of the colonial administrations from the equator to the Cape, always in some capacity which brought me in intimate contact with the natives. Of the existence of the society mentioned by Mankanyezi, I received constant assurances, and once came in close touch with certain of its higher ranks.

Some years after the Boer War [1899–1902], I was engaged in work on behalf of the Natal government in a certain large native reserve, in the course of which I was astonished to find occupying a remote, inaccessible valley, a small community of people—perhaps less than a hundred of all ages and both sexes—who were certainly not Zulus, nor, in fact, of an African race I had ever seen. Had it not been for the fact that they lived the life of the natives, and identified themselves in all respects with their Bantu neighbors, I should have said that they were members of some Southern European race. In color they varied a good deal, from the brown of a high-caste Hindu to pure white. Their features were of pure European type, more uniformly classical indeed than is usual among Europeans.

The chief of this little community bore the Zulu name of Mandhlalanga (“strength of the sun”). He was a man of striking appearance, well over six feet in height, slight of figure, with wavy, snow-white hair, olive complexion, and features which, with the exception of the cheekbones, which were rather prominent, were almost pure Greek in type. Among the Zulus, he bore the reputation of being a supernatural being.

From the first, Mandhlalanga was extremely friendly towards me and showed a desire to win my confidence. He gave me invaluable aid in the work upon which I was engaged, and that eventually I completed it successfully was largely owing to him. As regards himself, he remained for a time rather reserved, however. He and his people, he gave me to understand, were Berbers, or rather Khabyles (he pronounced the name kha-beel-ya, the “kh” he pronounced as a guttural), from North Africa. But what they were doing five thousand miles from their native habitat, or why they chose to identify themselves with the Zulus, he did not explain.

Time, however, brought about a change in his attitude. One day I was speaking of the inexplicable manner in which news of distant happenings spreads among the natives, when suddenly he said:

“Thought is speedier than the electric spark and needs no wires for its conveyance. All it requires is a brain to dispatch it and another to receive it. Would you believe if I told you that I and others of the Brotherhood to which I belong can transmit our thoughts one to the other, no matter how far apart our bodies may be?”

This was a rather startling statement, but I recalled what I had learned from Mankanyezi. I replied, “Yes, I think I might believe that, but I should be more sure if you explained how it is done.”

“To attempt to explain our science to you,” he said, smiling, “would be rather like trying to explain the differential calculus to a child who is ignorant of simple addition. However, I am satisfied that you have a mind unclouded by the average European’s prejudices and preconceptions, so, if you will, I will take you as a pupil and teach you the simple addition of our lore. Whether you ever reach knowledge of the differential calculus will depend entirely on yourself. I can teach, but I cannot guarantee that you can learn.”

After some consideration I agreed to become Mandhlalanga’s pupil and for a year continued under his instruction. Then circumstances arose which led to my abandoning my studies and quitting this portion of the country. I never again encountered my teacher, nor for some considerable time afterwards did I ever receive a communication from him. With another of his fellows, however, whom I met at that period, I have several times been in contact, and have received from him communications at infrequent though regular intervals.

The sum of the information I gained from Mandhlalanga during that year, is not very large, and I am so far from clear concerning its exact significance that I shall make no attempt at explaining it. I shall content myself here with certain extracts from the copious notes I made of his discourses at the time they were delivered and allow the reader to interpret them as he sees fit.

Mandhlalanga, I may explain, is a Master, or teacher in the Brotherhood mentioned by Mankanyezi. He has traveled in Europe, Asia, and America. He speaks English and other European languages perfectly, but his talks with me were conducted in the secret Bantu tongue, which to the ordinary native has been dead for ages, and of the continued existence of which few Europeans are aware. In the following quotations, the reader must realize that many obscurities are probably due to the difficulty of rendering in English the exact shades of meaning.

Mandhlalanga deals as follows with “the Riddle of Existence”:

The Itongo (Universal Spirit) is ALL that ever was, is, or ever shall be, conceivable or inconceivable. The Itongo is ALL things, all things are of IT; but the sum of all things is not the Itongo. The Itongo is ALL the power there is, all power is of it; but all power, perceivable or conceivable, is not the Itongo. The Itongo is ALL the wisdom there is, all wisdom is of IT; but all wisdom conceivable is not the Itongo. ALL substance, ALL power, ALL wisdom is of IT, and IT is in them and manifest through them, but IT is also above them and beyond them, eternally unmanifest.

Man, who is of the Itongo, can never know the Itongo while he is man. All he can know of IT are certain manifestations which come within the range of his perceptions.

The pupil is generally taught that the manifestations are three in number, namely:

1. Universal Mind

2. Universal Force

3. Universal Substance or Matter

Really there are but two manifestations, Mind and Matter. What we call Force is not a separate manifestation; it is simply certain of the lowest, or grosser grades of Mind. Force is simply that portion of Mind which endows Matter with Form. It is that portion of Mind which transmits the idea of Form to the higher grades, where Consciousness dwells. Let the pupil think, and he must see that this is so. Color, size, shape, what are they? Simply light vibrations which, when passed on to the Consciousness, give the idea of Form. And what is vibration? It is Force. Heat, cold, hardness, softness, varieties of taste and smell are all vibrations, and therefore also Force. If you make Force a separate manifestation, then also must you make those planes of Mind which transfer the ideas of passion or emotion separate manifestations.

In the beginning of a Cosmic Cycle, the Itongo first manifested in all the many grades of Mind, downward into all the grades of Matter. But at first both Mind and Matter were unindividualized. When, how, or why, only the Itongo can know.

Individuality began in the highest planes of Mind—those planes which touch on pure Spirit. Understanding of what occurred is best gained by the following conception. Think of the Cosmos, just before Individuality began, as a vast, amorphous ocean of Mind and Matter, its surface ripples and upper reaches, those planes of Mind which touch on Spirit; growing denser and denser, downward till matter, in etheric form, is reached: downward till ether becomes gas, which may be likened to the mineral-charged lower strata of the ocean; downward till gases become liquids (muddy water); finally into solids (thick mud).

The beginning of Individuality in this Cosmic Ocean may be likened to the starting of myriads of tiny “whirlpools” among the ripples of the surface (the spiritualized Mind). These “whirlpools” under the force of a growing flood tide, extended deeper and deeper, till at last all strata were involved in the swirl.

Thus we have Individuality set up, extending from spiritual Mind to the physical plane. The “whirlpool” on the surface represents the birth of the soul. Its extension to the muddy depths represents the soul’s descent into matter. In matter the soul has reached the aphelion of its cycle, and now it begins its long, slow return journey. By the process of evolution it climbs slowly upward, from mineral to plant, from plant to animal, from animal to man; through all grades and states of human development, shaking off, slowly and painfully as it climbs, the gross accretions gathered during its descent; up through the lower mind to the higher, it climbs, till at last, its cycle complete, it merges with its source, the Itongo, and ceases to be Individual, being one with the ALL.

On man and his destiny, Mandhlalanga discoursed thus:

Man is an individual, having in him, as has everything on the physical plane, all the attributes of the Cosmic Ocean, of which he is an individualized portion. He has reached on his upward journey the stage of personal consciousness. I speak of man in general. There are undeveloped men whose personal consciousness is but rudimentary, as there are others who have transcended personality and know their real Selves—that immortal portion first individualized from the lofty planes of the spiritual Mind.

Man is on a journey, the goal of which is union with the source of his being—the Itongo. To reach that goal he must first pass through all experience the Cosmos affords, and must shake off all accretions accumulated on his descent from individualized Spiritual Mind into grossest Matter. To do this, he is born and born again, for his physical body dies, as do his lower mental principles; only his higher mental principles, which are akin with the Itongo, survive individuality bestowed upon them at its opening.

 

These are the principles of man: 1. The physical body (umzimba)
2. The etheric body (isitunzi)	This is merely the etheric counterpart of the physical body, and not really a separate principle, normally. But in certain abnormal states it is partially separable from the physical body. It is the medium through which the lower Mind (or Force) functions.
3. The etheric body (isitunzi)	That portion of the Mind which shows as life force and other forms of what we call energy.
4. The animal mind (utiwesilo)	The planes of Mind which manifest as passions, emotions, and instincts.
5. The human mind (utiwomuntu)	The planes of Mind which manifest as human consciousness, Intellect, higher emotions, etc.
6. Spiritual mind (utiwetongo)	The higher planes manifesting spiritual Consciousness.
7. Itongo	The ray or spark of Universal Spirit, which informs all lower manifestations.

We call our Brotherhood Bonaabakulu abasekhemu, using the ancient Bantu speech, which is the mother tongue of the most widespread group of languages in the continent. The name may be rendered in English as “The Brotherhood of the Higher Ones of Egypt.”

The Brotherhood was founded in Egypt in the reign of the Pharaoh Cheops, its founder being a priest of Isis. It has as its objects the spreading of the Wisdom which comes from of old among all races and tribes in Africa, and the study and practice by its members of what we call ukwazikwesithabango, which means that science which depends on the power of thought. It is the only true science there is.

These are the grades of the Brotherhood and some of the powers and functions they exercise.

1. The pupil	The pupil is one under probation, which lasts from one to three years. During this time, he is under instruction by a Master and subjects himself to certain disciplines. If found worthy, he enters the Brotherhood as a disciple at the end of his period of probation. If unworthy, he is dismissed back to the world.
2. The disciple	The disciple is an avowed member of the Brotherhood and subject to its disciplines. Under instruction he develops certain powers. That which in English is called mesmerism is usually one of the earliest to develop.
3. The brother	A full member of the order, with many developed powers, of which I may mention only power of communication by thought with those of equal or higher development, and what European occultists term astral consciousness.
4. The elder	An advanced brother.
5. The Master	The teacher of all lower grades. The Master has many developed powers (clairvoyance and clairaudience on the Etheric Plane, and control in a certain degree of Master, among many others). Mastership can be attained only by one who in a past life has reached elder Brotherhood.
6. Those who know (isangoma)	Of these it is not permitted to speak save to say they have attained consciousness on the plane of the Real Self. Only one who has reached Mastership in a previous life can gain Isangomanship.

Besides the above, we have lay disciples and lay brothers. They are men who are prevented by circumstances from becoming vowed to the Brotherhood. They are subject only to self-imposed disciplines and receive but such teaching as can be given from afar. We have many lay disciples, not merely in Africa but in Asia, Europe and America. Lay brothers, however, are but few, for without direct instruction from a Master, few can reach this grade without incurring grave dangers. We constantly warn all unavowed disciples against the danger of attempting to attain a brother's powers unaided by the direct instruction of a Master.

Let it not be thought that our isangoma, elevated though they be, represent the supreme development possible to man on the physical plane. It is not so. There are others, not of any Brotherhood save the Brotherhood of All. We call them abakulubantu (that is, supreme ones, or perfect Men). These are men for whom the necessity for rebirth has ceased. They dwell on earth in physical form by their own will, and can retain or relinquish that form as they choose. I speak of them but to assure the pupil of their existence. Few below the grade of Master have ever seen one in the flesh, though all, from disciple upward, may meet them in the spirit.

Of the occult powers wielded by Mandhlalanga and his fellow Master, I saw several examples, but of these I do not feel at liberty to speak here. The reader has already had sufficient food for thought. I shall conclude with a rather cryptic quotation from Mandhlalanga on the source of the Brothers’ power.

Of the source of the power we wield, the pupil can learn but little until he attains discipleship. But let him ponder this much. I have likened individuality to whirlpools in the Cosmic Ocean. But all that ocean has not been cast into individuality. Between the “whirlpools,” myriad though they be, stretch wide, smooth spaces, identical with them in composition. Now it can well be conceived that a “whirlpool,” by setting up minor vibrations within itself, may send out ripples through the smooth spaces which will strike upon and affect in some degree other “whirlpools.” All the “whirlpools” are constantly doing this. Now suppose a “whirlpool” to have gained power to control its internal vibrations and to send them pulsating through the Ocean towards whatever objective it desires, can you not see that it may produce upon that objective whatever effect it desires?

Now think of the “whirlpool” as being a Man. Is it not clear that by getting full control of the vibrations of his higher planes, he may dispatch through the Cosmic Ocean, of which he is a part, ripples of various kinds and intensities, which, according to their nature and strength, will produce effects on all strata, from the highest, which is of course the most sensitive, even down to the “slime” and “mud” of the depths. I give you this as food for thought, and bid you digest it well.

Captain P.G. Bowen (1882–1940) was an Irish Theosophist and a distinguished writer on linguistics and the occult. His other works include The True Occult Path and The Sayings of the Ancient One. He was the son of Robert Bowen, a pupil of H.P. Blavatsky. (See Robert Bowen’s “Blavatsky on How to Study Theosophy” in Quest, fall 2021.) This article previously appeared in Studies in Comparative Religion 3, no. 2 (spring 1969), © World Wisdom, Inc. Reprinted with permission.

Printed in the  Winter 2022 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Hoepfl-Wellenhofer , Susanne, "Franz Hartmann: A Pioneer of the Theosophical Movement" Quest 110:1, pg 24-28

By Susanne Hoepfl-Wellenhofer

When H.P. Blavatsky, Colonel Henry Steel Olcott, and William Quan Judge founded the Theosophical Society in 1875, many people were attracted by their message, and some stayed on as workers for the Theosophical cause.

One of these was the German physician Franz Hartmann. He was born on November 22, 1838, in Donauwörth, Bavaria, with a strong sense of purpose, and his sublime mission became the spread of the Theosophical message in the West. His importance for the Theosophical movement in Germany, to which he dedicated the last twenty years of his life, is particularly great.

Since his early youth, Hartmann felt torn between two poles: the irrepressible urge for knowledge and self-knowledge on the one hand and on the other hand the deep desire for silence and spending time in nature, where he would communicate with nature spirits.

In 1865 Hartmann graduated from the University of Munich with the degrees of Doctor medicinae (doctor of medicine) and Magister pharmaciae (master of pharmacy) and emigrated to the United States. He practiced medicine in St. Louis, became an American citizen in 1867, and later moved to New Orleans. Then he decided to travel to Mexico and lived in Córdova and Orizaba.             

 Longing to see the Wild West, Hartmann moved to Texas in 1873, where he got married, although his wife died seven months later. In 1879 he moved to Georgetown, Colorado, where he was exposed to spiritualism and began to understand the astral world, but soon perceived the dark side and dangers of spiritualistic experiments and phenomena.               

Because Hartmann was looking for something higher, he associated with people of various religious backgrounds during his travels. He stayed in the U.S. for eighteen years, met whites, blacks, believers, unbelievers, Shakers, and freethinkers, and had the opportunity to broaden his worldview. He became acquainted with Indian tribes, boarded for a year in the house of a Jewish rabbi, stopped in Salt Lake City to study the life of the Mormons, and became a Freemason in Colorado.               

Eventually Hartmann found the answers about the true meaning of life he had been searching for in HPB’s book Isis Unveiled. Through the journal The Theosophist, he found out about the Theosophical Society and joined it. In his autobiography, he wrote that he longed to meet the Masters and described how one day in 1883, he dreamed of seeing a letter with an unknown handwriting and unknown foreign stamps. When he went to the post office, he found a letter which contained an invitation by Colonel Olcott to come to the TS headquarters in Adyar, India. “A feeling of inner conviction, more reliable than any external motivation,” he said, told him that it was the right thing to do and that he could not “devote his future work to any better purpose.” He arrived in Adyar on December 4, 1883.

Seeing that people were sending letters to the Masters, Hartmann decided to do the same. He gave Olcott the following brief note and asked him to put it in the “Shrine” (a small wall cabinet used at the time to transmit letters to and from the Masters):

Revered Master! The undersigned offers you his services. He desires that you would kindly examine his mental capacity and if desirable give him further instructions. Respectfully yours.

Hartmann received a response the next day, December 25, 1883, the first of ten letters from the Masters. In the first one, written by Master Morya, Hartmann found out that the Master himself had put into Colonel Olcott’s head the idea of Hartmann coming to Adyar. He advised Hartmann to stay for a while in Asia, participate in the work of the Theosophical Society, let the principles of the Theosophical philosophy be known without reserve and speak louder in his heart, and help others so he could be helped to live according to the highest ideals of humanity. Hartmann was convinced that the letter was from the Master because it contained personal information not known to anyone in India.

Hartmann found the second letter, sealed, from the Master Morya in his desk on February 5, 1884, as Olcott and HPB were preparing their departure for Europe:

Friend! You seem to me the only fully rational being among the Pelengs [Europeans] now left at headquarters. Therefore, with an eye to a variety of unexpected emergencies in future which I foresee, I must ask you to show practically your devotion to the cause of truth by accepting the rudder of the theosophical course.

If I know anything, I know you to be entirely free from those prejudices and predilections that are generally in the way of a calm and dispassionate pursuit of the chief aim of the Society, full equality among men as brothers and an entire unconcern with the childish fairy tales they call their religion, whether exoteric or esoteric.

If you kindly consent to take care of theosophical interests during the absence of Henry Olcott and Upasika [Blavatsky], I will cause him to write you an official letter, investing you with more official power than any other “assistant,” so as to give you a firmer hold of the rod of authority than you would otherwise have with an informal title shared by so many others . . .

Your pucca [genuine] authority I ask you to make the best of it in the interests of Truth, Justice and Charity . . . M.

Shortly afterwards, Olcott named Hartmann to an eight-man Board of Control administering the affairs of the headquarters during the colonel’s and HPB’s absence.

It did not take long for those “unexpected emergencies” to materialize. Hartmann witnessed the defamations of HPB by a couple staying at Adyar, the housekeepers Emma and Alexis Coulomb, and was forewarned about the Coulombs’ conspiracy by another letter from Morya on April 28, 1884:

For some time, Mrs. Coulomb has opened a communication with the enemies of the cause. Hence hints as to trapdoors and tricks. Moreover, when needed trapdoors will be found, as they have been forthcoming for some time. They [the Coulombs] have full entrance to and control of the premises. Mr. Coulomb is clever and cunning at every handicraft, a good mechanic and carpenter and good at walls likewise . . . M.

Hartmann was in Adyar during the visit of William Quan Judge and found in him a valuable friend. After Judge’s departure, HPB and Olcott returned from Europe. Richard Hodgson of the British Society for Psychical Research arrived to investigate the alleged occult phenomena produced by HPB. His report, which accused HPB of being an impostor, caused a scandal. (In 1986, the Society for Psychical Research repudiated these findings.)

Hartmann addressed these events in a report about his stay in Adyar and in his autobiography. In his opinion, Blavatsky's mission would not have succeeded without occult phenomena because it is difficult to get new ideas across unless the attention is stimulated by external means. But Hartmann also points out that the Society was not founded on phenomena but on the “Universal Brotherhood of Man” and should be judged accordingly.

One day Hartmann realized that advice was not always on hand in Adyar and pondered about the fact that even the chelas (disciples) made mistakes. The next day he received a letter from Master Koot Hoomi (K.H.) addressing his thoughts:

Inadequate as our “instruments” may be, to our full purpose, they are yet the best available since they are but the evolutions of the times. It would be most desirable to have better “mediums” for us to act thro; and it rests with the well-wishers of the Theosophical Cause how far they will work unselfishly to assist in her [HPB’s] higher work.

Although many of the letters Hartmann received addressed the specific events happening in Adyar in 1884–85, others contained advice on the treatment of one’s fellow humans. This example shows the compassionate nature of K.H.:

So long as one has not developed a perfect sense of justice he should prefer to err rather on the side of mercy, than commit the slightest act of injustice. Madame Coulomb is a medium, and as such irresponsible for many things she may say or do.

Hartmann also received guidance about interactions with others. This advice can help us today with our lodges and study centers, or with any community we are trying to maintain:

In such a great work as this Movement no one should expect to find his associates all congenial, intuitive, prudent or courageous. One of the first proofs of self-mastery is when one shows that he can be kind and forbearing and genial with companions of the most dissimilar characters and temperaments. One of the strongest signs of retrogression is when one shows that he expects others to like what he likes and act as he acts . . . Be a help to us and act accordingly. You are too many here. With more or less bits of too much self-personality.

In another letter, K.H. stresses the importance of independent actions for anyone involved in disseminating Theosophical teachings:

I do not have to explain to you first . . . As you have studied the laws of Karma, although not without some help having been given to you in this. For this reason, you do not receive more often instructions from me. We are leaders but not child-nurses. The weak ones, not the strong ones, are in constant need of definite “Orders,” and at times our chelas satisfy their wishes. This is willing slavery, but not healthy growth. Step forward and try to see clearly yourself what is most needed for the Society. Seek out what your duty may be and carry it out. If you do the right thing, I will be at your side; but I will not give any advice, and will not involve myself in anything, unless it be unavoidably required, and you were in great doubt . . .

 An infinite field of activity lies before you; the whole world is open to you . . . Great obstacles are to be overcome; the greater is the power required to overcome them, the greater is the growth that comes from it. A constant restraint of passion, a sleepless watch over, and patient forbearance of, human weaknesses, will help towards victory.

Not all letters by the Masters had to do with the Theosophical Society per se: some had more personal recommendations. Master Morya explained to Hartmann that becoming a Buddhist would give him easier access to the path of knowledge, and Hartmann followed suit. Morya advised him a short time later regarding chelaship:

Let me give you an advice. Never offer yourself as a chela but wait until chelaship descends by itself upon you. Above all, try to find yourself, and the path of knowledge will open itself before you, and this so much the easier as you have made a contact with the Light-ray of the Blessed one, whose name you have now taken as your spiritual lode-star. Receive in advance my blessings and my thanks.

Hartmann left India with HPB on April 1, 1885, and returned to Europe. HPB stayed in Würzburg, Germany, and Hartmann moved to Kempten in southern Bavaria. This visit was supposed to be temporary, but he stayed because he met the leader of a small group of Rosicrucians and soon identified himself with this group. Some of what Hartmann wrote in his later books included instructions from this group. An Adventure among the Rosicrucians and The Secret Symbols of the Rosicrucians of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century are two examples.      

Although many Rosicrucians emphasize Christian brotherhood, Hartmann always stayed true to the idea of universal brotherhood. For him the unity of all cultures and religions was among the most important spiritual values. In his works he repeatedly pointed out that people all over the world live similar spiritualities. Through his comprehensive European education and his knowledge of the secret doctrine and the Eastern philosophy of religion, he was able to build a bridge between Western mysticism and Eastern wisdom and demonstrate their common basis scientifically and philosophically. He did this by comparing the writings of Western mystics with those of the Eastern adepts, for example, the German philosopher and Christian theosophist Jacob Boehme (1575–1624):

I have carefully compared the doctrines of Boehme with those of the Eastern sages, as laid down in “The Secret Doctrine” and in the religious literature of the East, and I find the most remarkable harmony between them in their esoteric meaning; in fact, the religion of Buddha, Krishna, and that of the Christ seem to me to be one and identical.

Another example are the comments in his book about Paracelsus, a Swiss physician, alchemist, lay theologian, and philosopher of the Renaissance (1493–1541):

Among those who have taught the moral aspect of the secret doctrine, there are none greater than Buddha, Plato, and Jesus of Nazareth; of those who have taught its scientific aspect, there have been none more profound than Hermes Trismegistus, Shankaracharya, Pythagoras, and Paracelsus. They obtained their knowledge not merely from following the prescribed methods of learning, or by accepting the opinions of the “recognized authorities” of their times, but they studied Nature by her own light, and becoming illuminated by the light of Divine Nature, they became lights themselves, whose rays illuminate the world of mind. What they taught has been to a certain extent verified and amplified by the teachings of Eastern Adepts, but many things about which the latter have to this day kept a well-guarded silence were revealed by Paracelsus three hundred years ago.

In his book Yoga und Christentum (“Yoga and Christianity”), Hartmann argued that the teachings of the Bhagavad Gita have been known in Christianity for 600 years, particularly in the works of the great mystic Meister Eckhart (c.1260–c.1328). In this book he explains that the path to the realization of “Christ in us” and the yoga teachings in the Bhagavad Gita are almost identical.

Hartmann’s destiny gave him opportunities to serve the cause of truth, and his search made him one of the most prolific and learned writers of occult literature in the Theosophical movement. He was able to explain difficult concepts in simple and easily understandable words in German as well as in English. Hartmann translated the Bhagavad Gita into German and was the editor of Lotusblüten (Lotus Flowers). This magazine was the focus of his literary work, which he published for thirteen years. Most of the articles, written by Hartmann himself, were later published in book form. He also answered readers’ questions about Theosophy.

In 1895, in association with Robert Froebe, Hartmann embarked on the translation into German of HPB’s The Secret Doctrine, which was published in Leipzig in 1899 under the title Die Geheimlehre. Later, Hartmann also translated The Voice of the Silence and the third volume of The Secret Doctrine.

In 1897 Hartmann founded a new, independent Theosophical organization in Germany to spread Eastern philosophy in the West, which exists to this day. He continued to work and live in different cities in Germany and Austria and lectured about Theosophy for the rest of his life. Hartmann, who regarded the universe as his home and all of humanity as his nation, passed away in Kempten on August 7, 1912.   

When I read Hartmann’s work, I am reminded to stay vigilant in everyday life, especially when active in communities, be it as a leader or as a participant. As mentioned above, based on his writings it is clear that the First Object of the Theosophical Society, universal brotherhood, irrespective of any dogma, creed, belief or opinion, was extremely important to him. As he wrote:

However opinions may differ in regard to different subjects, and however much the members may discuss these differences of opinion and try to convince each other of what each believes to be true, or to demolish erroneous theories, there ought to be amongst them that harmony of soul-union, which springs from the recognition of the one certain fact that we are all manifestations of the one great divine spirit, in whom we all dwell and live and have our being and who lives and dwells and strives for manifestation in us.

In the same article, Hartmann reminds us that we must not only preach but also practice universal brotherhood and tolerance.

There is nothing in our way to the attainment of wisdom, except the love of self, and the love of self can be conquered only through unselfish acts. Thus, the theory must lead to the practice and without the practice the theory alone is of little value. If we practice the dictates of Universal Brotherhood, we will gradually grow up to the understanding of it and we will finally see in every being not only our brother and sister, but our own real self, which is God in All, though appearing in innumerable forms of manifestation. And having once attained through the expanding power of love that greatness of soul which constitutes the real Theosophist, there will be room for the manifestation of the light of divine wisdom, and as we enter into the wisdom of the gods, the wisdom of the gods will be our own.

Sources

De Zirkoff, Boris. De Zirkoff on Franz Hartmann, June 21, 2018: http://www.philaletheians.co.uk/study-notes/theosophy-and-theosophists/de-zirkoff-on-franz-hartmann.pdf.

Eek, Sven. Damodar and the Pioneers of the Theosophical Movement. Adyar, India: Theosophical Publishing House, 1965.

“Franz Hartmann.” Theosophische Gesellschaft in Deutschland (website), accessed Sept. 28, 2021: https://theosophische-gesellschaft.org/de/franz-hartmann.htm.

“Franz Hartmann.” Theosophy World Resource Center (website), accessed Sept. 28, 2021: https://www.theosophy.world/encyclopedia/hartmann-franz.

Hartmann, Franz. Autobiografische Schriften: Denkwürdige Erinnerungen aus dem Leben des Verfassers der “Lotusblüten. [“Memorable Recollections from the Life of the Author of ‘The Lotus Flowers.’”] Gulw, Germany: Schatzkammerverlag, n.d.

———. “The Life and Doctrines of Jacob Boehme,” 1891: https://www.sacred-texts.com/eso/ldjb/index.htm.

———. The Life of Philippus Theophrastus Bombast of Hohenheim, Known by the Name of Paracelsus. 2d ed. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, 1896.

———. “The Three Objects of the Theosophical Society. I: Universal Brotherhood.” Theosophy, August 1897: https://www.theosociety.org/pasadena/theos/v12n05p213_the-three-objects-of-the-theosophical-society-in-america.htm.

———. Yoga und Christentum. Gulw, Germany: Schatzkammer Ullrich Verlag: 1992.

Hütwohl, Robert, ed. Theosophical History: Occasional Papers, Volume 8: Some Fragments of the Secret History of the Theosophical Society. Fullerton, Calif.: Theosophical History, 2000.

 “The Masters [sic] Letters Received by Franz Hartmann,” Esoteric Blogspot (website), accessed Sept. 28, 2021: https://esoteric-guide.blogspot.com/2018/09/franz-hartmann-masters-letters.html?m=0.

Wegner, Charlotte, ed. Franz Hartmann: Die Botschaft der Theosophie; Leben und Werk. Grafing, Germany: Aquarium Verlag, 2020.

Susanne Hoepfl-Wellenhofer was born in Austria and has been living and working in the U.S. since 1986. She is currently the president of the D.C. Lodge, contributes to the Theosophical Wiki and the Online School of Theosophy, and mentors prisoners.  She retired from the German department of the George Washington University in 2019.  She still translates from German to English, including texts by Franz Hartmann, and teaches yoga.

Printed in the  Winter 2022 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Chadwick , Wallace, "A Life Lived in Prison" Quest 110:1, pg 20-23

Printed in the  Winter 2022 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Krocker, Aaron, "A Discovery of Home" Quest 110:1, pg 18-19

By Aaron Krocker

The year 2012 will forever remain in my memory and be kept in my heart. While many looked for aliens, meteor showers, pole shifts, or the snake god Quetzalcoatl, I discovered my new home in the Theosophical Society.

The concept of home is an important one for me. It suggests permanence, establishes community, and fosters something to strive for within. These were all things that I had taken for granted, but for which I had little appreciation.

As a prisoner, I have felt like an outcast, unknown and uncared for by everyone except my family and friends. But I did it to myself. I allowed my life to be motivated by substances and influenced by factors outside of my true Self.

The seven years of confinement prior to discovering the Society were spent in search of meaning—for my life, for life in general, and for something greater than myself in which I could hopefully find redemption. I joined an Apostolic Bible study, but became disheartened by what I felt was a too exclusive culture. I attended a few Catholic masses and studies, only to find that Catholicism didn’t resonate with me.

In the prison library, I came across a life changing and life shaping book—very simply written, but containing numerous concepts I was new to but that immediately felt right. The book? We’re All Doing Time by Bo Lozoff. It led me to Eastern systems of thought and practice: breathing exercises, meditation, mantra repetition, and yoga, to name a few.

That same year I found out about Gurumayi Chidvilasananda and Siddha Yoga and started participating in a study course based upon Siddha teachings called “In Search of the Self.” Here I learned how to open my heart and tap into the vital energy of the Self. But it still wasn’t enough. I still recite the Siddha mantra om shivaya namah (I honor my inner Self), and continue to benefit greatly from the course, but there seemed to be much that I was missing.

It wasn’t until I transferred from a maximum security prison to a medium security prison that I stumbled upon a library book that would open the door to Theosophy: Ancient Wisdom, Modern Insight by Shirley Nicholson. I was hooked. I read more, finally excited to visit the prison’s library. Ideas were discussed over the phone with family and outside with a few other inmates. Eventually I found out about the Society’s Prison Program through a prisoner resource list and immediately sent away for more information. I was not disappointed.

The more I read and the more study lessons I completed, the more I realized that Theosophy was what I had been searching for. I had become disillusioned with religious dogma, but I didn’t get that from Theosophy, maybe because Theosophy isn’t a religion. It doesn’t confine one’s thinking, condemn nonbelievers, or claim to be the one and only true way to salvation.

Theosophy is more than a collection of philosophies and practices, of lectures and books and articles. Theosophy, or the Ageless Wisdom, is a vital and vibrant guide for living life. Many religions and systems of thought set forth prescriptions for living a wholesome life. What makes Theosophy different, at least in my own opinion, is that it doesn’t attempt to monopolize truth. Instead, it looks at the numerous sources and presents the gems found in each one.

This Ageless Wisdom has opened my eyes to many concepts that have improved my life, bettered my character, and brightened my future. Through the Theosophical Society’s prison correspondence courses, I have discovered my purpose, which, to simplify, is to live well. Easy to say, but difficult to explain, as there are so many factors involved. At some point, after much practice, it becomes easier, but life still throws its challenges. Yet these challenges strengthen character so that a sense of contentment can germinate within.

I have learned that I am an expression of the cosmos, which is a manifested aspect of the Source, the Absolute, the Divine. By right, all other “expressions” are my kin: brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, mothers and fathers. By understanding this, I have come to appreciate the differences in others more and have grown to want happiness for all. This doesn’t mean that I don’t experience frustration, anger, or sadness, but when I do, the feelings are not as intense, nor do they last as long as they used to.

I’ve learned that whatever pain, frustration, cruelty, sorrow, or anger that I have either experienced or perpetuated is only the result of ignorance, either on my part or on that of others. Whatever has happened to me, for good or for ill, is merely the balancing of the karmic wheel. The good news is that balance can be achieved, and ignorance can be dissolved through experience and the application of wisdom.

Theosophy has taught me that the human experience is about evolving spiritually, mentally, physically, and wholesomely: unfolding from within into our truest and highest potential. This process is long and drawn out, but it enables one to benefit from a full and varied experience of being human.

These concepts have led me to an increased awareness that all beings are connected to one another. I have discovered a depth of potential within myself, and am beginning to feel it in others as well. Theosophy has humbled me, brought me to realize the inner truth, and inspired me to be better at being human.

Much is left to be learned, to be experienced, to be understood; but I am no longer afraid or confused about what my path is. Gratitude to my mentors, teachers, and role models along this path.

Aaron Krocker has been a participant in the TSA’s Prison Program since 2012.