The Reign of Quantity and The Signs of the Times

19 The Limits of History and Geography

It has already been indicated that, because of the qualitative differences between different periods of time, for example between the various phases of a cycle such as our own Manvantara (it being obvious that outside the limits of the duration of the present humanity conditions must be still more different), changes come about in the cosmic environment generally, and more especially in the terrestrial environment that concerns us most directly; and also that profane science, with its horizon bounded by the modern world in which alone it had its birth, can form no sort of idea of these changes. The result is that, whatever epoch science may have in view, it pictures to itself a world in which conditions are assumed to be similar to those of today. We have seen that the psychologists imagine in the same way that man has always in the past had a mentality similar to that of today; and what is true in this respect of the psychologists is no less true of the historians, who assess the actions of the men of antiquity or of the Middle Ages exactly as they would assess those of their own contemporaries, attributing to each the same motives and the same intentions. Thus, whether man or his environment be in view, it is evident that those simplified and ‘uniformizing’ conceptions that correspond so well with present-day tendencies are being brought into play: as for knowing how this ‘uniformization’ of the past can be reconciled with the ‘progressivist’ and ‘evolutionist’ theories that are simultaneously adhered to by the same individuals, that is a problem the solution of which will certainly not be attempted here; it is no doubt only one more example of the endless contradictions of the modern mentality.

In speaking of changes in the environment, the intention is not to allude only to the more or less extensive cataclysms that in one way or another mark the ‘critical points’ of the cycle; these are abrupt changes corresponding to real ruptures of equilibrium, and even in cases where for example it is only a question of the disappearance of a single continent (and such events have in fact occurred in the course of the history of our present humanity), it is easy to see that the terrestrial environment in its entirety must nevertheless be affected by the repercussions of any such event, and that the ‘face of the world’, so to speak, must thereby be markedly changed. But there are in addition continuous and imperceptible modifications which, within a period free from any cataclysm, produce bit by bit results that in the end are scarcely less impressive; these are not of course only simple ‘geological’ modifications as understood by profane science, and it is incidentally an error to consider the cataclysms from this narrow point of view alone, since it is always restricted to whatever is most exterior; what is in view here is something much more profound, bearing on the conditions of the environment themselves in such a way that, even if no account were taken of geological phenomena as being no more than details of secondary importance, beings and things would nonetheless be really changed. As for the artificial modifications produced by man’s intervention, they are after all only consequential, because, as previously explained, nothing but the special conditions of this or that period could make them possible; if man can indeed act on his surroundings in some more profound way, it is rather psychically than corporally that he can do so, as may be well enough understood from what has been said about the effects of the materialistic attitude.

The explanations given hitherto make it easy now to understand the general direction in which such changes take place: this direction has been designated as that of the ‘solidification’ of the world, conferring on all things an aspect corresponding ever more closely (though never really corresponding exactly) to the way in which things appear according to quantitative, mechanistic, or materialistic conceptions; and this is why modern science succeeds in its practical applications, as indicated above, and also why the surrounding reality does not seem to give the lie to it too strikingly. Such could not have been the case in earlier periods, when the world was not so ‘solid’ as it has become today, and when the corporeal and subtle modalities of the individual domain were not as completely separated (although, as we shall see later, certain reservations must even in the present state of affairs be made with respect to that separation). It was not only that man, whose faculties were then much less narrowly limited, did not see the world with eyes that were the same as those of today, and perceived many things which since then have escaped him entirely; but also, and correlatively, the world itself, as a cosmic entity, was indeed qualitatively different, because possibilities of another order were reflected in the corporeal domain and in a sense ‘transfigured’ it; thus, for example, when certain ‘legends’ say that there was a time when precious stones were as common as the most ordinary pebbles are now, the statement need not perhaps be taken only in a purely symbolical sense. The symbolical sense is of course always there in such a case, but this does not imply that it is the only valid sense, for everything manifested is itself necessarily a symbol in relation to some superior reality; it seems unnecessary to insist on this point, which has been adequately explained elsewhere, both in a general way, and as it concerns particular cases such as the symbolic value of the facts of history and geography.

Before going any further, an objection that may arise in connection with the qualitative changes in the ‘face of the world’ must be met. It may perhaps be argued that, if things were so, the vestiges of bygone periods which are all the time being discovered ought to provide evidence of the fact, whereas, leaving ‘geological’ epochs out of consideration and keeping to matters that affect human history, archaeologists and even ‘prehistorians’ never find anything of the kind, however far their researches may be carried into the past. The answer is really very simple: first of all, these vestiges, in the state in which they are found today and inasmuch as they are consequently part of the existing environment, have inevitably participated, like everything else, in the ‘solidification’ of the world; if they had not done so their existence would no longer be compatible with the prevailing conditions and they would have completely disappeared, and this no doubt is what has happened to many things which have not left the smallest trace. Next, the archaeologists examine these vestiges with modern eyes, which only perceive the coarsest modality of manifestation, so that even if, in spite of all, something more subtle has remained attached to the vestiges, the archaeologists are certainly quite incapable of becoming aware of it; in short, they treat these things as the mechanical physicists treat the things they have to deal with, because their mentality is the same and their faculties are equally limited. It is said that when a treasure is sought for by a person for whom, for one reason or another, it is not destined, the gold and precious stones are changed for him into coal and common pebbles; modern lovers of excavations might well turn this particular ‘legend’ to their profit!

However that may be, it is very sure that historians, simply because they undertake all their researches from a modern and profane point of view, come up against certain ‘barriers’ in time that prove more or less completely impassable; and, as was pointed out elsewhere, the first of these ‘barriers’ is met with toward the sixth century before the Christian era, at which point, according to modern conceptions, history properly so called begins; so that all things considered antiquity as understood in this history is a very relative antiquity indeed. It will no doubt be said that recent researches have made it possible to go back much further, by bringing to light the remains of a much more remote antiquity, and that is true up to a point; it is nevertheless rather remarkable that in such cases there is no longer any clearly established chronology, so much so that divergences in the estimation of the dates of objects and of events amount to centuries and sometimes even to whole millennia; and in addition, it seems impossible to arrive at even a moderately precise conception of the civilizations of these more distant periods, because terms of comparison with what exists today can no longer be found, although they can be found when it is only a question of ‘classical’ antiquity. This, however, does not imply that ‘classical’ antiquity as represented to us by modern historians is not greatly disfigured, the same being true of the Middle Ages though they are even nearer to us in time. Moreover, the truth is that the most ancient things so far made known to us by archaeological research do not belong to a period more remote than about the beginning of the Kali-Yuga, where naturally there is situated a second ‘barrier’; and if some means could be found for crossing this one, there would be yet a third, corresponding to the time of the last great terrestrial cataclysm, the cataclysm traditionally referred to as the disappearance of Atlantis; it would evidently be quite useless to try to go back further still, for before the historians had been able to reach that point the modern world would have had plenty of time to disappear in its turn!

These few indications are enough to make it clear how vain are all the discussions to which the profane (the word is used here to include all who are affected by the modern spirit) may wish to devote their time on matters connected with the earlier periods of the Manvantara, with the ‘golden age’ or the ‘primordial tradition’, or even with much less remote events such as the biblical ‘deluge’, taking this last only in its more immediately literal meaning, in which it relates to the cataclysm of Atlantis; these matters are among those that are wholly beyond their reach and will always be so. That of course is why they deny them, as they deny indifferently everything that goes beyond them in any way, for all their studies and all their researches, being undertaken from a point of view both false and restricted, can most certainly result in nothing but the denial of everything that is not comprehended in that point of view. And on top of all this, these people are so far persuaded of their own ‘superiority’ that they are unable to admit the existence or even the possibility of anything whatever that eludes their investigations; blind men would surely have equally sound reasons for denying the existence of light and then using that as a pretext for boasting of their superiority over normal men!

What has been said about the limits of history, as conceived according to the profane conception, can also be applied to the limits of geography, wherein there are also many things that have passed completely beyond the horizon of the moderns; anyone who compares the descriptions of ancient geographers with those of modern geographers must often be led to wonder whether it is really possible that both are speaking of the same countries. Nevertheless the ancient geographers are only ancient in a very relative sense, and it is not necessary to go back further than the Middle Ages in order to come across contrasts of that kind; in the interval that separates them from us there has certainly been no notable cataclysm; is it possible that the world has been able in spite of this to change its appearance to such an extent and so quickly? It is of course accepted that the moderns will say that the ancients did not see clearly, or that they did not record clearly what they saw; but any such explanation, which amounts to no more than supposing that all men before our time were troubled with sensorial and mental afflictions, really is a great deal too ‘simplistic’ and negative; and if the question is examined with true impartiality, why should it not be the moderns who do not see clearly, and who even fail to see some things at all? They triumphantly proclaim that ‘the world has now been discovered in its entirety,’ though this may perhaps not be as true as they think, and they couple this with the supposition that the greater part of the world was unknown to the ancients; in that connection it may well be wondered what particular ancients they are talking about, and whether they think that there were no men before their own time other than the Westerners of the ‘classical’ period, and that the inhabited world did not then extend beyond a small fraction of Europe and Asia Minor; and they say too that ‘this unknown, because it was unknown, could not be otherwise than mysterious’; but where have they found out that the ancients characterized any of these things as ‘mysterious’, and is it not they themselves who proclaim them to be so because they no longer understand them? Again, they say that in the beginning ‘marvels’ were met with, and that later there were only ‘singularities’ or ‘curiosities’ and that finally ‘it was seen that these singularities conformed to general laws, which men of learning sought to establish’; but is not what they here describe with very fair accuracy precisely the successive stages of the limitation of human faculties, stages of which the last corresponds to what may justly be called the mania for rational explanations, with all the gross insufficiency that is theirs? In fact, this last way of looking at things, from which proceeds modern geography, really only dates from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, that is, from the very period that saw the birth and diffusion of the specifically rationalist mentality, and this confirms the explanations given; from that time the faculties of conception and perception that allowed man to reach out to something other than the coarsest and most inferior mode of reality were totally atrophied, while the world itself was at the same time irremediably ‘solidified’.

If things are looked at in this way, the following conclusion emerges: either, on the one hand, things could formerly be seen that are no longer visible, because considerable changes have taken place in the terrestrial environment or in human faculties, or rather in both together, such changes moreover becoming more rapid as the present period is approached; or, on the other hand, what is called ‘geography’ had in the old days a significance quite other than that which it has today. Actually, the two terms of this alternative are not mutually exclusive, and each of them expresses one side of the truth, for the conception formed of a science naturally depends both on the point of view from which its object is considered and on the extent to which the realities implicit in it can be effectively grasped: in relation to both these sides of the truth, a traditional science and a profane science, even if they have identical names (and this generally indicates that the latter is as it were a ‘residue’ of the former) are so profoundly different that they are in truth separated by an abyss. Now there is really and truly a ‘sacred’ or traditional geography, as completely unknown to the moderns as is all other knowledge of the same kind; there is a geographical symbolism as well as a historical symbolism, and it is the symbolical value of things that gives them their profound significance, because through it is established their correspondence with realities of a higher order; but it is not possible for this correspondence to be effectively determined unless there is the ability to perceive, in one way or another, the reflection of the said realities in the things themselves. Thus it is that there are places particularly suited to serve as ‘support’ for the action of ‘spiritual influences’, and on this fact has always been based the establishment of certain traditional ‘centers’, whether principal or secondary, the oracles of antiquity and the places of pilgrimage furnishing the most outwardly apparent examples of such ‘centers’. There are also other places no less specially favorable to the manifestation of ‘influences’ quite opposite in character, and belonging to the lowest regions of the subtle domain; but what difference does it make to a modern Westerner whether there be for instance in one place a ‘gate of heaven’ and in another a ‘mouth of hell’, since the ‘density’ of his ‘psycho-physiological’ constitution is such that he experiences nothing in particular in either the one or the other? Such things therefore are literally non-existent for him, but this of course by no means implies that they have actually ceased to exist; it is moreover true that, communications between the corporeal and the subtle domains having been more or less reduced to a minimum, in order to become aware of such things, a greater development than in the past of certain faculties is needed, and these are just the faculties which, so far from being developed, have on the contrary for the most part become continuously weaker and have ended by disappearing from the ‘average’ human individual, so that the difficulty and the rarity of perceptions of that order have been doubly accentuated, and this is what allows the moderns to hold the accounts of the ancients in derision.

In this connection, there is one more thing to be said, concerning the descriptions of strange beings met with in such accounts: since these descriptions naturally date at the earliest from ‘classical’ antiquity, a time at which an undeniable degeneration had already taken place from a traditional point of view, it is quite possible that confusions of more than one kind may have crept in. For instance, one part of these descriptions may really be derived from ‘survivals’ of a symbolism no longer fully understood,[53] whereas another part may be related to the appearances assumed by the manifestation of certain ‘entities’ or ‘influences’ belonging to the subtle domain, and yet another, though doubtless not the most important, may really be a description of beings that had a corporeal existence in more or less remote times, but belonged to species since then extinct or having survived only in exceptional conditions and as great rarities, such as are still sometimes met with today, whatever may be the opinion of people who imagine that there is nothing left in the world that they do not know about. It can be seen that in order to discern what lies at the bottom of all this, a fairly long and difficult piece of work would have to be undertaken, all the more so because the ‘sources’ available are far from providing uncontaminated traditional data; it is obviously much simpler and more convenient to discard the whole lot en bloc as the moderns do; they would anyhow not understand the truly traditional data themselves any better than those that are contaminated and would still see in them only indecipherable enigmas, and they will naturally adhere to this negative attitude until some new changes in the ‘face of the world’ come to destroy once and for all their deceptive security.