Preface: Professor Dupuy's seminar
The Problem of Evil
in Literature, Film, and Philosophy (FRENGEN 265), Spring 2009 at Stanford University
has inspired me to type the following selections from Paul Brunton's The Hidden Teaching Beyond Yoga (1941),
The Wisdom of the Overself (1943), and Notebooks of Paul Brunton (1984-1988).
Anthony Damiani had used these texts on epistemology and metaphysics where a dozen
Cornell students and two math professors had gathered weekly in his bookshop American Brahman
in downtown Ithaca for his free seminar on the Spiritual Quest (1968-1970). In my
Notes to my poem
"What a Soap Box Taught Me
About Sage & Sin", I tell about my first meeting with PB in Switzerland. Anthony
revered PB as a sage who lives in cosmic consciousness. Such was my impression during
my 14 meetings with him (1972-1979) in Switzerland which inspired my biochemical
research and pursuing a philosophical life. Paul Brunton wrote 11 books on yoga
and meditation (1934-1952) that were translated into 17 languages. His
Notebooks
were published in 16 volumes posthumously (1984-1988). If sages have cosmic consciousness,
their views on evil should carry more weight than political, religious, and social writers
with special agendas, and hence more insightful on this interesting topic.
Paul Brunton on the topic of evil:
Do not surrender to powers that are evil
Like all true sages the Buddha recognized that there was no universal code of morality and
that there were gradations in duty, stages in ethics. Hence when General Simha came to
question him about this very point, torn by doubt whether he should give up his profession
of soldiering or continue in it, the Buddha replied: "He who deserves punishment must be
punished. Whosoever must be punished for the crimes he has committed suffers his injury not
through the ill-will of the judge but on account of his evildoing. The Buddha does not teach
that those who go to war in a righteous cause after having exhausted all means to preserve
the peace are blameworthy. He must be blamed who is the cause of the war. The Buddha teaches
a complete surrender of self but he does not teach a surrender of anything to those powers
that are evil.
These words are quoted only because they express exactly the viewpoint of the
hidden teaching upon the same question. It is not denied that the correct attitude for monk
or mystic is to take no life under any circumstances, but rather to suffer his own, martyr-like,
to be taken away instead; and to cause no hurt to any other person even inpunishment. Gandhi,
therefore, with his doctrine of non-violence, represents Indian mysticism at its best; but
it would be a gross mistake to take him as a representative of the far higher Indian philosophy.
The latter does not teach an ethic of emotional unrealism but an ethic of reasoned service.
It is stong where the other is sentimental.
The famous injunction of Jesus to resist not evil must also be interpreted in
the same light. It is to be followed literally and externally by mystics and renunciants but
intelligently and internally by the wise. For although the latter have come to know their
ultimate oneness with the crook and criminal, this need not prevent them from protecting
themselves or others against crookedness and criminality or from punishing wrongdoers for
their malpractices, provided, as Buddha further pointed out, this is done without hatred.
For then, observed the great Asiatic teacher, "the criminal should learn to consider that
this punishment is the fruit of his own act, and as soon as he can honestly arrive at such
understanding the punishment will purify his soul and he may no longer lament his fate but
actually rejoice in it".
A mysticism which makes a man into a passive spectator of aggresive injustice
or violent murder or an asceticism which makes him condone evil done in his presence on the
plea that he has renounced the world and its ways does not represent the real wisdom of India.
It is the duty of a philosopher not to refuse help when suffering victims cry out against
attack, but to bestow it, using force if necessary. A doctrine that preaches lethargic inertia
or flabby non-violence in the face of acts of flagrant violation of justice and goodwill is
completely unacceptable to philosophy. Such misunderstanding of the old sages and such weakness
of heart and mind have never helped India but merely degraded her. The mystic who is afraid of
administering punishment because he is afraid of causing suffering is guided by emotion. The
philosopher who is not afraid to do so when necessary knows that suffering is the greatest
teacher of man; for what man will not learn by reason he must learn by pain. He who will not
think must suffer. What he might learn in a few minutes through reflection will be whipped
into him during a few years through pain. Many a blow falls on the head of a man just to get
a single idea into it. He must learn by personal anguish what he has refused to learn by
personal reflection. He must understand by bitter pain what he would not understand by the
persuasions of philosophy. For the mystic wishes to be undisturbed and to disturb none,
whereas the philosopher wishes to be altruistic and to serve all.
The Hidden Teaching Beyond Yoga, Epilogue: "The Philosophic Life"
Rider & Company, London, 1941, pp. 339-340
Conceptions of what constitues evil
Not that we need war to shrive our spirits and purge our hearts; life with its changing
panorama of thought and deed, its endless personal struggles, is always assisting us
likewise. But often war is the visible climax of graded periods of the cosmic struggle
between the selfless and selfish tendencies in man's outlook, between whatever works
towards unity and whatever works towards disintegration. Meanwhile humanity will rise
to higher and higher conceptions of what constitutes evil, dropping its narrower outlooks
and ancient brutalities with deepening shame. The horrors of bloody war will disappear and
soldiers will throw aside their steel helmets when the beast in man is tamed, but the conflict
of minds will replace it. Struggle must continue while the world lasts, but it will gradually
be refined, modified, dignified and purged of its physical brutality. We must therefore
admit with Socrates: "Evil, O Glaucon, will not vanish from the earth. How should it, if
it is the name of the imperfection through whose defeat the perfect types acquire their value?"
and with Buddha: "Struggle there must be, for all life is a struggle of some kind." But Buddha
also pointed out that the conflict in life is not really between good and evil but between
knowledge and ignorance. We must remember that the sages refuse to recognize evil as a positive
independent existence but only as a limited and transient aspect of existence. Our task is to
learn wisdom from all experience, from pain as from pleasure, from cruelty as from
kindness, and to express in the arena of everyday life just what we have learnt. In this way
everything that happens gives us a better foothold for future living.
Fourth and last of the lessons we may draw is that intelligence, adequately
sharpened, courageously accepted and selflessly applied, is always the dominant factor in
the end. Those who worship force rather than brains as the highest social power should take
a lesson from the calm perspective of history. If force were the greatest thing known the
gigantic dinosaur would be king of this world, and the prehistoric monsters would have
inherited the earth long ago. Yet how many herds of these animals have gone with the years
and left no heirs? They have died out and disappeared. Why? Because there is something
greater than mere force. That something is Thought. Man puny animal that he was in
comparison with these giants conquered them all. He did it not by force, but by brains.
There is no limit to what he shall be able to do when he shall have fully harnessed this
wondrous power of thought, so little understood though it be. Science is only a stage in
this growth. There are those who have become afraid of it because they have become afraid
of what scientific war has done to man. But science is only a sword. With it you may pierce
through your problems or pierce through your throat. Whatever you do the responsibility lies
with yourself, not with the sword. Intelligence blossoms as the flower of well-reasoned
thought and it matures gradually into the fruit of spontaneous insight. That which begins
in the primitive savage as a glimmer of purely local inquisitiveness ends in the evolved
man as a passion for consummate understanding of all existence. The innumerable lives on
earth which intervene between both are but lessons in the school of intelligence. When
intelligence is only partial, immature and incomplete it teaches man cunning, selfishness
and materialism. When full, mature and perfect it teaches him wisdom, selflessness and truth.
The Hidden Teaching Beyond Yoga, Epilogue: "The Philosophic Life"
Rider & Company, London, 1941, pp. 348-349