REASON AND INTUITION by Franz Hartmann

(This letter was sent by Franz Hartmann from the United States to the Theosophy Society’s headquarters in Adyar, India, and was subsequently published in The Theosophist magazine.)

« Om, Amitaya! Measure not with words

The immeasurable; nor think the string of thought

Into the fathomless. Who asks doth err;

Who answers errs. Say nought. »

 (Light of Asia.)

Allow me to express my sincere gratitude for the kind answer you gave to my questions about “Devachan” in No 44 of your journal. As usual I received what I believe to be the correct answer to my question by mental impression, before I saw it in print; but the misfortune with me and with others is that in our present state of existence our intuitional powers are so little developed as to be unreliable, and the information which we receive through them has to be confirmed by reason, before it can be accepted by the mind.

To get above the plane of mere physical perceptions, without getting lost in the labyrinth of a misleading imagination, has been the main effort of my life.

How to accomplish this is the all-absorbing question, for a solution of which we must look to Theosophy, the newly arisen star of the East.

« The ways of Heaven are dark and intricate.

Puzzled with mazes and perplexed with error;

Our understanding searches them in vain. »

 (Addison.)

I had once a conversation with the renowned Jesuit, Pater Wenniger, about spiritual matters, and after proving to him that his arguments could not be accepted because they were contrary to reason, he finally said:

-      “If our reason conflicts with our faith, let us imprison our reason and stick to our faith.”

This silly answer of course ended the conversation; but it now appears to me that if we substitute the word “intuition” for “faith,” (which perhaps amounts to the same thing) his answer may have some truth in it after all and seems to agree with the above poetical quotations.

In this conflict between reason and intuition the only way out of the difficult y seems to lay down the rule that we should not follow the dictates of our reason, if they conflict with our highest intuitions, and that we should be careful before we accept as intuition that which is not confirmed by our reason, and which may be after all only a morbid imagination running wild.

The average American or European is unable to decide — when his reason and his intuition contradict each other — which is right.

He may look to physical science, her answer will be a laugh and a sneer; he may look to Theology and ask for bread, but he will receive a stone, for Theology cannot give what it does not possess.

In despair at last he will fly to the camp of the Spiritualists; but they, ostrich like, will hide their heads in the sand, fearing that the troublesome questions of the new-comer might disturb the beatitude of their fool’s paradise.

Under these trying circumstances there is nothing left for us poor mortals to do, but to look to our great Masters in the East or to you, their representative, for information and light, and although we are loath to accept the dictum of any one as infallible, still the teachings contained in the Theosophy conform not only with our reason, but they are also identical with our highest intuitions and can therefore be accepted very probably as the Truth.

The above reasons, I hope, will serve as an acceptable excuse for my trespassing upon your valuable time, and perhaps you will permit me to say in conclusion a few more words about “Devachan.”

I need not mention that my remark about the harps and palm leaves in the Christian heaven was only used as a metaphor, and that I have no more desire of meeting any long faced saints in heaven, than I have of enjoying their company on earth; but what I understood “Devachan” to be, is an entirely subjective state, a dream in which our imagination performs wonders and creates images, which the poor fool in Devachan takes for realities.*

According to this, the good Christian in Devachan would really wave imaginary palm leaves, the Turk would be surrounded by lovely but imaginary houris; while Guiteau on his arrival in Devachan would probably shake hands with his imaginary (but to him real) partner who inspired the murder, and obtain the thanks of the “Lordy” for his meritorious deed.**

After a while the sixth principle commences to act, and under its tuition the spirit rises to higher planes of thought, which of course are creating new subjective realities, until finally the process culminates in a condition of spirituality, in view of which the wings of our imagination become paralyzed and the mind of the intrepid mortal convinced of his inability to fly to such heights, in deep humility returns to earth.

I do not know, whether this view is correct or not, and I look to a continuance of the “Fragments” that are publishing in your journal for further light.

June 16th,

George Town, Colorado

FRANZ HARTMANN, M.D., F.T.S.

Notes of the editor (Blavatsky)

 * Let us hope that the three articles following some new objection to Devachan in the last number will finally settle the question at rest. We draw our esteemed Brother’s attention to it.

** It is to be feared that Guiteau will have little chance of getting acquainted with the Devachanic state. He and his “partner” will meet in Avitchi, if not in a still more disreputable place.

(The Theosophist, September 1883, vol. 4, p.327)