Full text of "The Most
Holy Trinosophia - Comte De St. Germain" |
LETTRES SAINTE |
TRINOSOPHIE |
PAR
LE COMTE DE ST.-GERMAIN |
TRINOSOPHlA |
OF THE COMTE DE ST.-GERMAIN |
WITH INTRODUCTORY MATERIAL |
AND COMMENTARY BY |
MANLY HALL |
ILLUSTRATED WITH THE FIGURES |
FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT IN THE |
BIBLIOTHEQUE DE TROYES |
THE PHOENIX PRESS |
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNL4 |
A PARALLEL FRENCH AND |
ENGLISH TEXT OF |
THE MOST HOLY |
Curieux
scrutateur de la Nature entiere, |
J'ai
connu du grand tout le principe et la fin. |
J'ai
vu I'or en puissance au fond de sa riviere |
J'ai
saisi sa matiere et surpris son levain. |
J'expliquai
par quel art I'ame aux flancs d'une mere |
Fait
sa maison, I'emporte, et comment un pepin |
Mis
contre un grain de ble, sous I'humide poussiere; |
L'un
plante et I'autre cep, sont le pain et le vin. |
Rien
n'etait, Dieu voulant, rien devint quelque chose, |
J'en
doutais, je cherchai sur quoi I'univers pose. |
Rien
gardait I'equilibre et servait de soutien. |
Enfin
avec le poids de I'eloge et du blame |
Je
pesai I'etemel; il appella mon ame: |
Je
mourrai, j'adorai, je ne savais plus rien. |
Comte de St.Germain |
TABLE OF CONTENTS |
PART ONE |
THE MAN WHO DOES NOT DIE |
PART TWO |
THE RAREST OF OCCULT MANUSCRIPTS |
PART THREE |
PARALLEL FRENCH AND ENGLISH TEXT OF |
THE MOST HOLY TRINOSOPHIA |
PART FOUR |
NOTES AND COMMENTARIES |
THE MAN WHO |
DOES NOT DIE |
HE GREAT ILLUMINIST, RosiAcian and |
Freemason who termed himself the Comte de St.- |
Germain is without question the most baffling |
personality of modem history. His name was so nearly |
a synonym of mystery that the enigma of his true |
identity was as insolvable to his contemporaries as it |
has been to later investigators. No one questioned the |
Comte 's noble birth or illustrious estate. His whole |
personality bore the indelible stamp of gentle breeding. |
The grace and dignity that characterized his conduct, |
together with his perfect composure in every situation, |
attested the innate refinement and culture of one |
accustomed to high station. |
A London publication makes the following brief |
analysis of his ancestry: "Did he in his old age tell
the |
truth to his protector and enthusiastic admirer. Prince Charles of
Hesse Cassel? According to the story |
told by his last friend, he was the son of Prince Rakoczy, of
Transylvania, and his first wife, a Takely. |
He was placed, when an infant, under the protection of the last of
the Medici (Gian Gastone). When he |
grew up and heard that his two brothers, sons of the Princess
Hesse Rheinfels, of Rothenburg, had |
received the names of St. Charles and St. Elizabeth, he determined
to take the name of their holy |
brother, St. Germanus. What was the truth? One thing alone is
certain, that he was the protege of the |
last Medici." Caesare Cantu, librarian at Milan, also
substantiates the |
[paragraph continues] Ragoczy hypothesis, adding that St.-Germain
was educated in the University at Sienna. |
In her excellent monograph. The Comte de St.-Germain, the Secret
of Kings, Mrs. Cooper-Oakley lists |
the more important names under which this amazing person
masqueraded between the years 1710 and |
1822. "During this time," she writes, "we have M.
de St.-Germain as the Marquis de Montferrat, Comte |
Bellamarre or Aymar at Venice, Chevalier Schoening at Pisa,
Chevalier Weldon at Milan and Leipzig, |
Comte Soltikoff at Genoa and Leghorn, Graf Tzarogy at Schwalback
and Triesdorf, Prinz Ragoczy at |
Dresden, and Comte de St.-Germain at Paris, The Hague, London, and
St. Petersburg." To this list it |
may be added that there has been a tendency among mystical writers
to connect him with the |
mysterious Comte de Gabalais who appeared to the Abbe Villiers and
delivered several discourses on |
sub-mundane spirits. Nor is it impossible that he is the same as
the remarkable Signor Gualdi whose |
exploits Hargreave Jennings recounts in his book The Rosicrucians,
Their Rites and Mysteries. He is |
also suspected of being identical with Count Hompesch the last
Grand Master of the Knights of Malta. |
In personal appearance, the Comte de St.-Germain has been
described as of medium height, well |
proportioned in body and of regular and pleasing features. His
complexion was somewhat swarthy and |
his hair dark, though often powdered. He dressed simply,' usually
in black, but his clothes were well |
fitting and of the best quality. His eyes possessed a great
fascination and those who looked into them |
were profoundly influenced. According to Madame de Pompadour, he
claimed to possess the secret of |
eternal youth, and upon a certain occasion claimed having been
personally acquainted with Cleopatra, |
and at another time of having "chatted familiarly with the
Queen of Sheba"! Had it not been for his |
striking personality and apparently supematural powers, the Comte
would undoubtedly have been |
considered insane, but his transcending genius was so evident that
he was merely termed eccentric. |
From Souvenirs de Marie Antoinette, by Madame la Comtesse d'
Adhemar, we have an excellent |
description of the Comte, whom Frederick the Great referred to as
"the man who does not die": "It was |
in 1743 the rumour spread that a foreigner, enormously rich,
judging by the magnificence of his |
jewelry, had just arrived at Versailles. Where he came from, no
one has ever been able to find out. His |
figure was well-knit and graceful, his hands delicate, his feet
small, and the shapely legs enhanced by |
well-fitting silk stockings. His nether garments, which fitted
very closely, suggested a rare perfection of |
form. His smile showed magnificent teeth, a pretty |
dimple marked his chin, his hair was black, and his glance soft
and penetrating. And, oh, what eyes ! |
Never have I seen their like. He looked about forty or forty-five
years old. He was often to be met |
within the royal private apartments, where he had unrestricted
admission at the beginning of 1768." |
The Comte de St.-Germain was recognized as an outstanding scholar
and linguist of his day. His |
linguistic proficiency verged on the supernatural. He spoke
German, English, Italian, Portuguese, |
Spanish, French with a Piedmontese accent, Greek, Latin, Sanskrit,
Arabic and Chinese with such |
fluency that in every land in which he visited he was accepted as
a native. "Leamed," writes one |
author, "speaking every civilized language admirably, a great
musician, an excellent chemist, he played |
the part of a prodigy and played it to perfection." Even his
most relentless detractors admitted that the |
Comte was possessed of ahnost incredible attainments in every
department of learning. |
Madame de Pompadour extols the genius of St.-Germain in the
following words: "A thorough |
knowledge of all languages, ancient and modern; a prodigious
memory; erudition, of which glimpses |
could be caught between the caprices of his conversation, which
was always amusing and occasionally |
very engaging; an inexhaustible skill in varying the tone and
subjects of his converse; in being always |
fresh and in infusing the unexpected into the most ttivial
discourses made him a superb talker. |
Sometimes he recounted anecdotes of the court of the Valois or of
princes still more remote, with such |
precise accuracy in every detail as almost to create the illusion
that he had been an eyewitness to what |
he narrated. He had traveled the whole world over and the king
lent a willing ear to the narratives of his |
voyages over Asia and Africa, and to his tales about the courts of
Russia, Turkey and Austria. He |
appeared to be more imtimately acquainted with the secrets of each
court than the charge d'affaires of |
the king." |
The Comte was ambidextrous to such a degree that he could write
the same article with both hands |
simultaneously. When the two pieces of paper were afterwards
placed one upon the other with the light |
behind them the writing on one sheet exactly covered the writing
on the other. He could repeat pages of |
print after one reading. To prove that the two lobes of his brain
could work independently he wrote a |
love letter with his right hand and a set of mystical verses with
his left, both at the same time. He also |
sang beautifully. |
By something akin to telepathy this remarkable person was able to
feel when his presence was needed |
in some distant city or state |
and it has even been recorded of him that he had the disconcerting
habit of appearing in his own |
apartments and those of his friends without resorting to the
conventionality of the door. |
He was, by some curious circumstances, a patron of railroads and
steamboats. Franz Graeffer, in his |
Recollections of Vienna, recounts the following incident in the
life of the astonishing Comte: "St.- |
Germain then gradually passed into a solemn mood. For a few
seconds he became rigid as a statue; his |
eyes, which were always expressive beyond words, became dull and
colourless. Presently, however, his |
whole being became reanimated. He made a movement with his hand as
if in signal of departure, then |
said 'I am leaving (ich scheide) do not visit me. Once again will
you see me. Tomorrow night I am off; |
I am much needed in Constantinople, then in England, there to
prepare two inventions which you will |
have in the next century — trains and steamboats'." |
As an historian the Comte possessed an uncanny knowledge of every
occurrence of the preceding two |
thousand years and in his reminiscences he described in intimate
detail events of the previous centuries |
in which he had played important roles. "He spoke of scenes
at the court of Francis I as if he had seen |
them, describing exactly the appearance of the king, imitating his
voice, manner and language — |
affecting throughout the character of an eyewitness. In like style
he edified his audience with pleasant |
stories of Louis XlVth, and regaled them with vivid descriptions
of places and persons." (See All the |
Year Round). |
Most of St. -Germain's biographers have noted his peculiar habits
with regard to eating. It was diet, he |
declared, combined with his marvellous elixir, which constituted
the true secret of longevity, and |
although invited to the most sumptuous repasts he resolutely
refused to eat any food but such as had |
been specially prepared for him and according to his recipes. His
food consisted mostly of oatmeal, |
groats and the white meat of chicken. He is known on rare
occasions to have taken a little wine and he |
always took the most elaborate precautions against the possibiUty
of contracting cold. Frequently |
invited to dinner, he devoted the time during which he naturally
should have eaten to regaling the other |
guests with tales of magic and sorcery, unbelievable adventures in
remote places and intimate episodes |
from the lives of the great. |
In one of his tales concerning vampires, St. -Germain mentioned in
an offhand way that he possessed |
the wand or staff with which Moses brought water from the rock,
adding that it had been presented to |
him at Babylon during the reign of Cyrus the Great. The memoir
writers admit themselves at a loss as |
to how many of the |
[paragraph continues] Comte's statements could be believed. Common
sense, as then defined, assured them |
that most of the accounts must be fashioned out of whole cloth. On
the other hand, his information was |
of such precise nature and his learning so transcendent in every
respect that his words carried the |
weight of conviction. Once while relating an anecdote regarding
his own experiences at some remote |
time and suddenly failing to recollect clearly what he considered
a relevant detail, he turned to his valet |
and said, "Am I not mistaken, Roger?" The good man
instantly replied: "Monsieur le Comte forgets |
that I have only been with him for five hundred years. I could
not, therefore, have been present at that |
occasion. It must have been my predecessor." |
The smallest doings of so unusual a person as St. -Germain would,
of course, be meticulously noted. |
Several interesting and amusing bits of information are available
relative to the establishment which he |
maintained in Paris. He had two valets de chambre. The first,
Roger, already mentioned, and the second |
a Parisien engaged for his knowledge of the city and other useful
local information. "Besides this, his |
household consisted of four lackeys in snuff-colored livery and
gold braiding. He hired a carriage at |
five hundred francs a month. As he ofl;en changed his coats and
waistcoats, he had a rich and expensive |
collection of them but nothing approached the mangificence of his
buttons, studs, watches, rings, |
chains, diamonds, and other precious stones. Of these he possessed
a very large value and varied them |
every week." |
Meeting St.-Germain one day at dinner Baron Gleichen chanced to
focus the conversation upon Italy |
and had the good fortune to please St.-Germain, who, turning to
him remarked: "I have taken a great |
fancy to you, and will show you a dozen pictures, the like of
which you have not seen in Italy." In the |
words of Gleichen: "Actually, he almost kept his word, for
the pictures he showed me were all stamped |
either with singularity or perfection, which rendered them more
interesting than many first-class works. |
Above all was a Holy Family by Murillo, equal in beauty to that by
Rafaelle at Versailles. But he |
showed me other wonders — a large quantity of jewels and colored
diamonds of extraordinary size and |
perfection. I thought I beheld the treasures of the Wonderful
Lamp. Among other gems were an opal of |
monstrous size, and a white sapphire (?) as large as an egg,
which, by its brilliancy, dimmed all the |
stones compared with it. I flatter myself that I am a connoisseur
in gems, but I can declare that it was |
impossible to perceive any reason for doubting the genuineness of
these jewels, the more so that they |
were not mounted." |
As an art critic St. -Germain could instantly detect the most |
cleverly perpetrated forgeries. He did considerable painting
himself, achieving an incredible brilliance |
of color. He was so successful that Vanloo the French artist
begged him to divulge the secret of his |
pigments but he refused. He is accredited with having secured
astonishing results in the painting of |
jewelry by mixing powdered mother-of-pearl with his colors. What
occurred to his priceless collection |
of paintings and jewels after his death or disappearance is
unknown. It is possible that the Comte's |
chemical knowledge comprehended the manufacture of luminous paint
such as is now used on watch |
dials. His skill as a chemist was so profound that he could remove
flaws from diamonds and emeralds, |
which feat he actually performed at the request of Louis XV in
1757. Stones of comparatively little |
value were thus transformed into gems of the first water after
remaining for a short time in his |
possession. He frequently performed this last experiment, if the
statements of his friends can be relied |
upon. There is also a popular story to the effect that he placed
gems worth thousands of dollars on the |
place cards at the banquets he gave. |
It was in the court at Versailles that the Comte de St.-Germain
was brought face to face with the elderly |
Comtesse de Gergy. Upon beholding the celebrated magician, the
aged lady stepped back in |
amazement and the following well-authenticated conversation took
place between the two: |
"Fifty years ago," the Comtesse said, "I was
ambassadress at Venice and I remember seeing you there |
looking just as you do now, only somewhat riper in age perhaps,
for you have grown younger since |
then." |
Bowing low, the Comte answered with dignity: "I have always
thought myself happy in being able to |
make myself agreeable to the ladies." |
Madame de Gergy then continued: "You then called yourself the
Marquis Balletti." |
The Comte bowed again and replied: "And Comtesse Gergy's
memory is still as good as it was fifty |
years ago." |
The Comtesse smiled. "That I owe to an elixir you gave me at
our first meeting. You are really an |
extraordinary man." |
St.-Germain assumed a grave expression. "Did this Marquis
Balletti have a bad reputation?" he asked. |
"On the contrary," replied the Comtesse, "he was in
very good society." |
The Comte shrugged his shoulders expressively saying:
"Well, |
as no one complains of him, I adopt him willingly as my
grandfather." |
The Comtesse d' Adhemar was present during the entire conversation
and vouches for its accuracy in |
every detail. |
Madame du Hausset, femme de chambre to Madame de Pompadour, writes
at some length of the |
astonishing man who often called upon her mistress. She records a
conversation which took place |
between la Pompadour and St.-Germain: |
"It is true, Madame, that I knew Madame de Gergy long
ago," the Comte affirmed quietly. |
"But, according to that," replied the Marquise,
"you must now be more than a hundred years old." |
"That is not impossible," enigmatically returned the
Comte with a slight smile, "but I admit that it is |
more possible that this lady, for whom I have infinite respect,
talks nonsense." |
It was answers such as this which led Gustave Bord to write of
St.-Germain that, "he allows a certain |
mystery to hover about him, a mystery which awakens curiosity and
sympathy. Being a virtuoso in the |
art of misleading he says nothing that is untrue. * * * He has the
rare gift of remaining silent and |
profiting
by it." (See La Franc -Macennerie en France, etc.) |
But to retum to Madame du Hausset' s story. "You gave Madame
de Gergy," pressed la Pompadour, |
"an elixir surprising in its effects; she pretends that tor a
long while she appeared to be no older than |
twenty-four. Why should you not give some to the king?" |
St.-Germain allowed an expression feigning terror to spread over
his face, "Ah ! Madame, I should be |
mad indeed to take it into my head to give the king an unknown dmg
!" |
The Comte was on very friendly terms with Louis XV with whom he
had long discussions on the |
subject of precious stones, their manufacture and purification.
Louis was amused and thrilled by turns. |
Never before had so extraordinary a person trod the sacred
precincts of Versailles. The whole court was |
topsy-turvy and miracles were the order of the day. Courtiers of
depleted fortunes envisioned the |
magical multiplication of their gold and grandames of uncertain
age had dreams of youth and favor |
restored by the mystery man's fabled elixirs. It is easy to
understand how so fascinating a character |
could relieve the boredom of a king who had spent his life a
martyr to royal fashions and was deprived |
by his position of the pleasure of honest work. Then, again,
rulers become victims to the fads of the |
moment and Louis himself was |
dabbling in alchemy and other occult arts. True, the king was only
a dilletante whose will was not |
strong enough to bind him to any lasting purpose, but St. -Germain
appealed to several qualities in the |
royal nature. The Comte's fund of knowledge, the skill with, which
he assembled his facts to the |
amusement and edification of his audiences, the mystery which
surrounded his appearances and |
disappearances, his consummate skill both as a critic and
technician in the arts and sciences, to say |
nothing of his jewels and wealth, endeared him to the king. Had
Louis but profited by the wisdom and |
prophetic wamings of the mysterious Comte, the Reign of Terror
might have been averted. St.-Germain |
was ever the patron, never the patronized. Louis had found the
diplomat in whom there was no guile. |
De Pompadour writes, "He enriched the cabinet of the king by
his pictures by Valasquez and Murillo, |
and he presented to the Marquise the most precious and priceless
gems. For this singular man passed |
for being fabulously rich and he distributed diamonds and jewels
with astonishing UberaUty." |
Not the least admirable evidence of the Comte's genius was his
penetrating grasp of the political |
situation of Europe and the consummate skill with which he parried
the thrusts of his diplomatic |
adversaries. At all times he bore credentials which gave him entry
to the most exclusive circles of |
European nobility. During the reign of Peter the Great M. de
St.-Germain was in Russia, and between |
the years 1737 and 1742 in the court of the Shah of Persia as an
honored guest. On the subject of his |
wanderings, Una Birch writes: 'The travels of the Comte de
Saint-Germain covered a long period of |
years and a great range of countries. From Persia to France and
fi-om Calcutta to Rome he was known |
and respected. Horace Walpole spoke with him in London in 1745;
Clive knew him in India in 1756; |
Madame d'Adhemar alleges that she met him in Paris in 1789, five
years after his supposed death; |
while other persons pretend to have held conversations with him in
the early nineteenth century. He |
was on familiar and intimate terms with the crowned heads of
Europe and the honoured friend of many |
distinguished persons of all nationalities. He is even mentioned
in the memoirs and letters of the day, |
and always as a man of mystery. Frederick the Great, Voltaire,
Madame de Pompadour, Rousseau, |
Chatham, and Walpole, all of whom knew him personally, rivalled
each other in curiosity as to his |
origin. During the many decades in which he was before the world,
however, no one succeeded in |
discovering why he appeared as a Jacobite agent in London, as a
conspirator in Petersburg, as an |
alchemist and connoisseur of pictures in Paris, or as a Russian
general at Naples. * * * Now and again |
the curtain |
which shrouds his actions is drawn aside, and we are permitted to
see him fiddling in the music room at |
Versailles, gossiping with Horace Walpole in London, sitting in
Frederick the Great's library at Berhn, |
or conducting illuminist meetings in caverns by the Rhine."
(See The Nineteenth Century, January, |
1908.) |
In the realm of music St.-Germain was equally a master. While at
Versailles he gave concerts on the |
violin and on at least one occasion during an eventfiil life he
conducted a symphony orchestra without a |
score. In Paris St.-Germain was the diplomat and the alchemist, in
London he was the musician. "He |
left a musical record behind him to remind English people of his
sojoum in this country. Many of his |
compositions were published by Walsh, in Catherine Street, Strand,
and his earliest English song. Oh, |
wouldst thou, know what sacred charms, came out while he was still
on his first visit to London; but on |
quitting this city he entrusted certain other settings of words to
Walsh, such as Jove, when he saw, and |
the arias out of his little optra L'Inconstanm Delusa, both of
which compositions were published |
during his absence from England. When he returned, in 1760, he
gave the world a great many new |
songs, followed in 1780 by a set of solos for the violin. He was
an industrious and capable artist, and |
attracted a great deal of fashionable attention to himself both as
composer and executant. " |
An old Enghsh newspaper. The London Chronicle, for June, 1760,
contains the following anecdote: |
"With regard to music, he not only played but composed; and
both in high taste. Nay, his very ideas |
were accommodated to the art; and in those occurrences which had
no relation to music he found |
means to express himself in figurative terms deduced from this
science. There could not be a more |
artful way of showing his attention to the subject. I remember an
incident which impressed it strongly |
upon my memory. I had the honour to be at an assembly of Lady ,
who to many other good and great |
accomplishments added a taste for music so delicate that she was
made a judge in the dispute of |
masters. This stranger was to be of the party; and towards evening
he came in his usual free and polite |
manner, but with more hurry than was customary, and with his
fingers stopped in his ears. I can |
conceive easily that in most men this would have been a very
ungraceful attitude, and I am afraid it |
would have been constmed into an ungenteel entrance; but he had a
manner that made everything |
agreeable. They had been emptying a cartload of stones just at the
door, to mend the pavement; he |
threw himself into a chair and, when the lady asked what was the
matter, he pointed to the place and |
said, 'I am stunned with a whole cart-load of
discords'." |
In his memoirs the Italian adventurer Jacques de Casanova de
Seingalt makes numerous references to |
his acquaintance with St.-Germain. Casanova grudgingly admits that
the Comte was an adept at |
magical arts, a skilled Unguist, musician and chemist who won the
favor of the ladies of the French |
court not only by the general air of mystery surrounding him but
by his surpassing skill in preparing |
pigments and cosmetics by which he preserved for them at least a
shadow of swift departing youth. |
Casanova describes a meeting with St.-Germain which occurred
"in Belgium under most unusual |
circumstances. Having arrived at Toumay, Casanova was surprised to
see some grooms walking |
spirited horses up and down. He asked to whom the fine animals
belonged and was told: "To the Comte |
de St.-Germain, the adept, who has been here a month and never
goes out. Everybody who passes |
through the place wants to see him, but he makes himself visible
to no one." This was sufficient to |
excite the curiosity of Casanova, who wrote requesting an
appointment. He received the following |
answer: "The gravity of my occupation compels me to exclude
everyone, but in your case I will make |
an exception. Come whenever you like and you will be shown in. You
need not mention my name nor |
your own. I do not ask you to share my repast, for my food is not
suitable to others, to you least of all, |
if your appetite is what it used to be." At nine o'clock
Casanova called and found that the Comte had |
grown a beard two inches long. In discussion with Casanova, the
Comte explained his presence in |
Belgium by stating that Count Cobenzl, the Austrian ambassador at
Brussels, desired to establish a hat |
factory and that he was taking care of the details. Upon his
telling St. -Germain that he was suffering |
from an acute disease, the Comte invited Casanova to remain for
treatment, saying that he would |
prepare fifteen pills which in three days would restore the
Italian to perfect health. |
Casanova writes: "Then he showed me his magistmm, which he
called athoeter. It was a white hquid |
contained in a well stopped phial. He told me that this liquid was
the universal spirit of Nature and that |
if the wax of the stopper was pricked even so sUghtly, the whole
of the contents would disappear. I |
begged him to make the experiment. He thereupon gave me the phial
and the pin and I myself pricked |
the wax, when, lo, the phial was empty." Casanova, being
somewhat of a rogue himself, doubted all |
other men. Therefore, he refused to permit St.-Germain to treat
his malady. He could not deny, |
however, that St.-Germain was a chemist of extraordinary skill,
whose accomplishments were |
astonishing if not practical. The adept refused to disclose the
purpose for which these chemical |
experiments |
were intended, maintaining that such information could not be
communicated. |
Casanova further records an incident in which St.-Germain changed
a twelve-sols piece into a pure |
gold coin. Being a doubting Thomas, Casanova declared that he felt
sure that St.-Germain had |
substituted one coin for another. He intimated so to the Comte who
replied: "Those who are capable of |
entertaining doubts of my work are not worthy to speak to
me," and bowed the Italian out. This was the |
last time Casanova ever saw St.-Germain. |
There is other evidence that the celebrated Comte possessed the
alchemical powder by which it is |
possible to transmute base metals into gold. He actually performed
this feat on at least two occasions, |
as attested by the writings of contemporaries. The Marquis de
Valbelle, visiting St.-Germain in his |
laboratory, found the alchemist busy with his furnaces. He asked
the Marquis for a silver six-franc |
piece and, covering it with a black substance, exposed it to the
heat of a small flame or furnace. M. de |
Valbelle saw the coin change color until it turned a bright red.
Some minutes after, when it had cooled |
a little, the adept took it out of the cooling vessel and returned
it to the Marquis. The piece was no |
longer of silver but of the purest gold. Transmutation had been
complete. The Comtesse d'Adhemar |
had possession of this coin until 1786 when it was stolen from her
secretary. |
One author tells us that, "Saint-Germain always attributed
his knowledge of occult chemistry to his |
sojoum in Asia. In 1755 he went to the East again for the second
time, and writing to Count von |
Lamberg he said, 'I am indebted for my knowledge of melting jewels
to my second journey to India'." |
There are too many authentic cases of metallic transmutations to
condemn St.-Germain as a charlatan |
for such a feat. The Leopold-Hoffman medal, still in the
possession of that family, is the most |
outstanding example of the transmutation of metals ever recorded.
Two-thirds of this medal was |
transformed into gold by the monk Wenzel Seller, leaving the
balance silver which was its original |
state. In this case fraud was impossible as there was but one copy
of the medal extant. The ease with |
which we condemn as fraudulent and unreal anything which
transcends our understanding has brought |
unjustified calumny upon the names and memories of many
illustrious persons. |
The popular belief that Comte de St.-Germain was merely an
adventurer is not supported by even a |
shred of evidence. He was never detected in any subterfuge nor did
he betray, even to the |
slightest degree, the confidence entrusted to him. His great
wealth — for he was always amply supplied |
with this world's goods — was not extracted from those with whom
he came in contact. Every effort to |
determine the source and size of his fortune was fruitless. He
made use of neither bank nor banker yet |
moved in a sphere of unlimited credit, which was neither
questioned by others nor abused by himself. |
Referring to the attacks upon his character, H. P. Blavatsky wrote
in The Theosophist of March, 1 88 1: |
"Do charlatans enjoy the confidence and admiration of the
cleverest statesmen and nobles of Europe, |
for long years, and not even at their deaths show in one thing
that they were undeserving? Some |
encyclopaedists (see New American Cyclopedia, xiv. 266) say: 'He
is supposed to have been employed |
during the greater part of his life as a spy at the courts at
which he resided.' But upon what evidence is |
this supposition based? Has anyone found it in any of the state
papers in the secret archives of either of |
those courts? Not one word, not one shred of fact to build this
base calumny upon, has ever been found. |
It is simply a maUcious lie. The treatment this great man, this
pupil of Indian and Egyptian hierophants, |
this proficient in the secret wisdom of the East, has had irom
Westem writers, is a stigma upon human |
nature." |
Nothing is known concerning the source of the Comte de
St.Germain's occult knowledge. Most |
certainly he not only intimated his possession of a vast amount of
wisdom but he also gave many |
examples in support of his claims. When asked once about himself,
he replied that his father was the |
Secret Doctrine and his mother the Mysteries. St.-Germain was
thoroughly conversant with the |
principles of Oriental esotericism. He practiced the Eastern
system of meditation and concentration, |
upon several occasions having been seen seated with his feet
crossed and hands folded in the posture of |
a Hindu Buddha. He had a retreat in the heart of the Himalayas to
which he retired periodically from |
the world. On one occasion he declared that he would remain in
India for eighty-five years and then |
return to the scene of his European labors. At various times he
admitted that he was obeying the orders |
of a power higher and greater than himself What he did not say was
that this superior power was the |
Mystery School which had sent him into the world to accomplish a
definite mission. The Comte de St- |
Germain and Sir Francis Bacon are the two greatest emissaries sent
into the world by the Secret |
Brotherhood in the last thousand years. |
The principles disseminated by the Comte de St. -Germain were
undoubtedly Rosicrucian in origin and |
permeated with the doctrines |
of the Gnostics. The Comte was the moving spirit of Rosicrucianism
during the eighteenth century — |
possibly the actual head of that order — and is suspected of being
the great power behind the French |
Revolution. There is also reason to believe that Lord
Bulwer-Lytton's famous novel, Zanoni, is actually |
concerned with the life and activities of St. -Germain. He is
generally regarded as an important figure in |
the early activities of the Freemasons. Repeated efforts, however,
probably with an ulterior motive, |
have been made to discredit his Masonic affiliations. Maags of
London are offering for sale a Masonic |
minute book in which the signatures of both Comte de St. -Germain
and the Marquis de Lafayette |
appear. It will yet be estabUshed beyond all doubt that the Comte
was both a Mason and a Templar; in |
fact, the memoirs of Caghostro contain a direct statement of his
own initiation into the order of the |
Knights Templars at the hands of St.-Germain. Many of the
illustrious personages with whom the |
Comte associated were high Masons, and sufficient memoranda have
been preserved concerning the |
discussions which they held to prove that he was a Chaster of
Freemasonic lore. |
Madame d'Adhemar, who has preserved so many anecdotes of the life
of the "wonder man", copied |
from one of St.-Germain's letters the following prophetic verses
pertaining to the downfall of the |
French Empire: |
"The time is fast approaching when imprudent France, |
Surrounded by misfortune she might have spared herself. |
Will call to mind such hell as Dante painted. |
Falling shall we see sceptre, censer, scales. |
Towers and escutcheons, even the white flag. |
Great streams of blood are flowing in each town; |
Sobs only do I hear, and exiles see. |
On all sides civil discord loudly roars |
And uttering cries, on all sides virtue flees |
As from the Assembly votes of death arise. |
Great God, who can reply to murderous judges? |
And on what brows august I see the swords descend! |
Marie Antoinette was much disturbed by the direM nature of the
prophecies and questioned Madame |
d' Adhemar as to her opinion of their significance. Madame
replied, "They are dismaying but certainly |
they cannot affect Your Majesty." |
Madame d' Adhemar also recounts a dramatic incident. St.-Germain
offered to meet the good lady at |
the Church of the RecoUets about the hour of the eight o'clock
mass. Madame went to the |
appointed place in her sedan chair and recorded the following
conversation between herself and the |
mysterious adept: |
St.-Germain: I am Cassandra, prophet of evil . . . Madame, he who
sows the wind reaps the |
whirlwind ... I can do nothing; my hands are tied by a stronger
than myself. |
Madame: Will you see the Queen? |
St.-Germain: No; she is doomed. |
Madame: Doomed to what? |
St.-Germain: Death. |
Madame: And you — ^you too? |
St.-Germain: Yes — like Cazotte — ^Retum to the Palace; tell the
Queen to take heed of herself, |
that this day will be fatal to her . . . |
Madame:
But M. de Lafayette . . . |
St.-Germain: A balloon inflated with wind. Even now, they are
settling what to do with him, |
whether he shall be instrument or victim; by noon all will be
decided . . . The hour of repose is |
past, and the decrees of Providence must be fulfilled. |
Madame: What do they want? |
St.-Germain: The complete ruin of the Bourbons. They will expel
them from all the thrones |
they occupy and in less than a century they will retum in all
their different branches to the rank |
of simple private individuals. France as Kingdom, Republic,
Empire, and mixed Govemment |
will be tormented, agitated, tom. From the hands of class tyrants
she will pass to those who are |
ambitious and without merit. |
Comte de St. -Germain disappeared from the stage of French
mysticism as suddenly and inexphcably as |
he had appeared. Nothing is known with positive certainty after
that disappearance. It is claimed by |
transcendentalists that he retired into the secret order which had
sent him into the world for a particular |
and peculiar purpose. Having accomplished this mission, he
vanished. From the Memoirs de Mon |
Temps of Charles, Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, we gain several
particulars conceming the last years |
before the death or disappearance of the Hungarian adept. Charles
was deeply interested in occult and |
Masonic mysteries, and a secret society, of which he was the
moving spirit, held occasional meetings |
upon his estate. The purposes of this organization were similar
to, if not identical with, Cagliostro's |
Egyptian Rite. In fact, after studying the fragments left by the
Landgrave, Cagliostro's contention that |
he was initiated into Egyptian Masonry by St. -Germain is proved
beyond |
a reasonable doubt. The "Wonder Man" attended at least
some of these secret meetings and of all |
whom he met and knew during life, he confided more in Prince
Charles than in any other man. The last |
years of St. -Germain's known life were therefore divided between
his experimental research work in |
alchemy with Charles of Hesse and the Mystery School at
Louisenlund, in Schleswig, where |
philosophic and political problems were under discussion. |
According to popular tradition, it was on the estate of Prince
Charles that St.-Germain finally died at a |
date given out as 1784. The strange circumstances connected with
his passing lead us to suspect that is |
was a mock funeral similar to that given the English adept. Lord
Bacon. It has been noted that, "Great |
uncertainty and vagueness surround his latter days, for no
confidence can be reposed in the |
announcement of the death of one illuminate by another, for, as is
well known, all means to secure the |
end were in their code justifiable, and it may have been to the
interest of the society that St. -Germain |
should have been thought dead. " |
H. P. Blavatsky remarks: "Is it not absurd to suppose that if
he really died at the time and place |
mentioned, he would have been laid in the ground without the pomp
and ceremony, the official |
supervision, the poUce registration which attend the fiinerals of
men of his rank and notoriety? Where |
are these data? He passed out of public sight more than a century
ago, yet no memoirs contain them. A |
man who so lived in the full blaze of publicity could not have
vanished, if he really died then and there, |
and left no trace behind. Moreover, to this negative we have the
alleged positive proof that he was |
living several years after 1784. He is said to have had a most
important private conference with the |
Empress of Russia in 1785 or 1786 and to have appeared to the
Princess de Lambelle when she stood |
before the tribunal, a few minutes before she was struck down with
a billet, and a butcher-boy cut off |
her head; and to Jeanne Dubarry, the mistress of Louis XV as she
waited on her scaffold at Paris the |
stroke of the guillotine in the Days of Terror of 1793." |
It should be added that the Comte de Chalons, on his return from
an embassy to Venice in 1788, said |
that he had conversed with the Comte de St.-Germain in the square
at St. Mark's the evening before his |
departure. The Comtesse d' Adhemar also saw and talked with him
after his presumed decease, and the |
Encyclopedia Britannica notes that he is said to have attended a
Masonic conference several years after |
his death had been reported. In concluding an article on the
identity of the inscrutable Comte, Andrew |
Lang writes: "Did Saint-Germain really die in the palace of
Prince Charles of Hesse about 1780-85? |
Did he, on the other hand, escape from the French |
prison where Grosley thought he saw him, during the Revolution?
Was he known to Lord Lytton about |
1860? * * * Is he the mysterious Muscovite adviser of the Dalai
Lama? Who knows? He is a will-o'- |
the-wisp of the memoir-writers of the eighteenth century."
(See Historical Mysteries.) |
The true purpose for which St. -Germain labored must remain
obscure until the dawn of a new era. |
Homer refers to the Golden Chain by which the gods conspired to
bind the earth to the pinnacle of |
Olympus. In each age there appears some few persons whose words
and actions demonstrate clearly |
that they are of an order different from the rest of society.
Humanity is guided over critical periods in |
the development of civilization by mysterious forces such as were
personified in the eccentric Comte |
de St. -Germain. Until we recognize the reality of the occult
forces at work in every-day life, we cannot |
grasp the significance of either the man or his work. To the wise,
St.-Germain is no wonder — to those |
who are limited by belief in the inevitability of the commonplace,
he is indeed a magician, defying the |
laws of nature and violating the smugness of the
pseudo-leamed. |
THE RAREST OF |
OCCULT |
MANUSCRIPTS |
F THE UTMOST SIGNIficance to aU students of |
Freemasonry and the occult sciences is this unique |
manuscript
La Tres Sainte Trinosophie. Not only is it |
the only known mystical writing of the Comte de St.- |
Germain, but it is one of the most extraordinary |
documents relating to the Hermetic sciences ever |
compiled. Though the libraries of European |
Rosicrucians and Cabbalists contain many rare |
treasures of ancient philosophical lore, it is extremely |
doubtful if any of them include a treatise of greater |
value or significance. There is a persistent rumor that |
St. -Germain possessed a magnificent library, and that |
he prepared a number of manuscripts on the secret |
sciences for the use of his disciples. At the time of his |
death ... or disappearance . . . these books and papers |
vanished, probably into the archives of his society, and |
no trustworthy information is now available as to their |
The mysterious Comte is known to have possessed at one time a copy
of the Vatican manuscript of the |
Cabbala, a work of extraordinary profundity setting forth the
doctrines of the Luciferians, Lucianiasts |
and the Gnostics. The second volume of The Secret Doctrine by H.
P. Blavatsky (pp. 582-83 of the |
original edition) contains two quotations fi^om a manuscript
"supposed to be by the Comte St.- |
Germain". The parts of the paragraphs attributed to the
Hungarian adept are not clearly indicated, but |
as the entire text deals with the significance of numbers, it is
reasonable to infer that |
his commentaries are mystical interpretations of the numerals 4
and 5 . Both paragraphs are in substance |
similar to the Puissance des nombres d'apres Pythagore by Jean
Marie Ragon. The Mahatma Koot |
Hoomi mentions a "ciphered MS." by St. -Germain which
remained with his staunch friend and patron |
the benevolent Prince Charles of Hesse-Cassel (See Mahatma Letters
to A. P. Sinnett). Comparatively |
unimportant references to St. -Germain, and wild speculations
concerning his origin and the purpose of |
his European activities, are available in abundance, but the most
exhaustive search of the work of |
eighteenth century memoir writers for information regarding the
Masonic and metaphysical doctrines |
which he promulgated has proved fixiitless. So far as it has been
possible to ascertain, the present |
translation and publication of La Tres Sainte Trinosophie affords
the first opportunity to possess a work |
setting forth ... in the usual veiled and symbolic manner . . .
the esoteric doctrines of St.-Germain, and |
his associates. |
La Tres Sainte Trinosophie is MS. No. 2400 in the French Library
at Troyes. The work is of no great |
length, consisting of ninety-six leaves written upon one side
only. The calligraphy is excellent. |
Although somewhat irregular in spelling and accenting, the French
is scholarly and dramatic, and the |
text is embellished with numerous figures, well drawn and
brilliantly colored. In addition to the full- |
page drawings there are small symbols at the beginning and end of
each of the sections. Throughout the |
French text there are scattered letters, words, and phrases in
several ancient languages . . There are also |
magical symbols, figures resembling Egyptian hieroglyphics, and a
few words in characters resembling |
cuneiform. At the end of the manuscript are a number of leaves
written in arbitrary ciphers, possibly |
the code used by St. -Germain's secret society. The work was
probably executed in the latter part of the |
eighteenth century, though most of the material belongs to a
considerably earher period. |
As to the history of this remarkable manuscript, too Uttle,
unfortunately, is known. The illustrious |
Freemasonic martyr, the Comte Allesandro Cagliostro, carried this
book amongst others with him on |
his ill-fated journey to Rome. After Cagliostro's incarceration in
the Castle San Leo, all trace of the |
manuscript was temporarily lost. Eventually Cagliostro's literary
effects came into the possession of a |
general in Napoleon's army, and upon this officer's death La Tres
Sainte Trinosophie was bought at a |
nominal price by the Bibliotheque de Troyes. In his Musee des
Sorciers, Grillot de Givry adds |
somewhat to the meager notes concerning the manuscript. He states
that the volume was bought at the |
sale of Messena's effects; that in the front of the book is a note
by a philosopher who signs himself |
[paragraph continues] "LB.C. Philotaume" who states that
the manuscript belonged to him and is the sole |
existing copy of the famous Trinosophie of the Comte de St.
-Germain, the original of which the Comte |
himself destroyed on one of his joumeys.The note then adds that
Cagliostro had owned the volume, but |
that the Inquisition had seized it in Rome when he was arrested at
the end of 1789. (It should be |
remembered that Cagliostro and his wife had visited St.-Germain at
a castle in Holstein.) De Givry |
sums up the contents of La Tres Sainte Trinosophie as
"Cabbalized alchemy" and describes St.- |
Germain as "one of the enigmatic personages of the eighteenth
century ... an alchemist and man of the |
world who passed through the drawing rooms of all Europe and ended
by falUng into the dungeons of |
the Inquisition at Rome, if the manuscript is to be
beheved". |
The title of the manuscript. La Tres Sainte Trinosophie,
translated into English means "The Most Holy |
Trinisophia" or "The Most Holy Three-fold Wisdom".
The title itself opens a considerable field of |
speculation. Is there any connection between La Tres Sainte
Trinosophie and the Masonic brotherhood |
of Les Trinosophists which was founded in 1805 by the
distinguished Belgian Freemason and mystic |
Jean Marie Ragon, already referred to? The knowledge of occultism
possessed by Ragon is mentioned |
in terms of the highest respect by H. P. Blavatsky who says of him
that "for fifty years he studied the |
ancient mysteries wherever he could find accounts of them".
Is it not possible that Ragon as a young |
man either knew St.-Germain or contacted his secret society? Ragon
was termed by his contemporaries |
"the most leamed Mason of the nineteenth century". In
1818, before the Lodge of Les Trinosophists, he |
delivered a course of lectures on ancient and modem initiation
which he repeated at the request of that |
lodge in 1841. These lectures were published under the title Cours
Philosophique et Interpretatifdes |
Initiations Anciennes et Modemes. In 1853 Ragon published his most
important work Orthodoxie |
Magonnique. Ragon died in Paris about 1866 and two years later his
unfinished manuscripts were |
purchased from his heirs by the Grand Orient of France for one
thousand francs. A high Mason told |
Madam Blavatsky that Ragon had corresponded for years with two
OrientaUsts in Syria and Egypt, one |
of whom was a Copt gentleman. |
Ragon defined the Lodge of the Trinosophists as "those who
study three sciences". Madame Blavatsky |
writes: "It is on the occult properties of the three equal
lines or sides of the Triangle that Ragon based |
his studies and founded the famous Masonic Society of the
Trinosophists". Ragon describes the |
symbolism of the triangle in substance as follows: The first side
or Une represents the |
mineral kingdom which is the proper study for Apprentices; the
second line represents the vegetable |
kingdom which the Companions should leam to understand because in
this kingdom generation of |
bodies begins; the third line represents the animal kingdom from
the exploration of which the Master |
Mason must complete his education. It has been said of the Lodge
of the Trinosophists that "it was at |
one time the most intelligent society of Freemasons ever known. It
adhered to the ancient Landmarks |
but gave clearer and more satisfactory interpretations to the
symbols of Freemasonry than are afforded |
in the symbolical Lodges". It practiced five degrees. In the
Third, candidates for initiation received a |
philosophic and astronomic explanation of the Hiramic Legend. |
The Egyptianized interpretation of Freemasonic symbolism which is
so evident in the writings of |
Ragon and other French Masonic scholars of the same period (such
as Court de Gabelin and Alexandre |
Lenoir) is also present in the figures and text of the St.-Germain
manuscript. In his comments on the |
Rite of Misraim, called the Egyptian Rite, Ragon distinguishes 90
degrees of Masonic Mysteries. The |
1st to 33rd degrees he terms symbolic; the 34th to 66th degrees,
philosophic; the 67th to 77th, mystic; |
and the 78th to 90th, Cabbalistic. The Egyptian Freemasonry of
Cagliostro may also have been derived |
fi'om St.-Germain or fi-om some common body of lUuminists of whom
St.-Germain was the moving |
spirit. Cagliostro 's memoirs contain a direct statement of his
initiation into the Order of Knights |
Templars at the hands of St.-Germain. De Luchet gives what a
modern writer on Cagliostro calls a |
fantastic account of the visit paid by Allesandro and his wife the
Comtesse Felicitas to St. -Germain in |
Germany, and their subsequent initiation by him into the sect of
the Rosicrucians — of which he was the |
Grand Master or chief. There is nothing improbable in the
assumption that Cagliostro secured La Tres |
Sainte Trinosophie from St. -Germain and that the manuscript is in
every respect an authentic ritual of |
this society. |
The word Trinosophie quite properly infers a triple meaning to the
contents of the book, in other words |
that its meaning should be interpreted with the aid of three keys.
From the symbolism it seems that one |
of these keys is alchemy, or soul-chemistry; another Essenian
Cabbalism; and the third Alexandrian |
Hermetism, the mysticism of the later Egyptians. From such
fragments of the Rosicrucian lore as now |
exists, it is evident that the Brethren of the Rose Cross were
especially addicted to these three forms of |
the ancient wisdom, and chose the symbols of these schools as the
vehicles of their ideas. |
The technical task of decoding the hieroglyphics occurring |
throughout La Tres Sainte Trinosophie was assigned to Dr. Edward
C. Getsinger, an eminent authority |
on ancient alphabets and languages, who is now engaged in the
decoding of the primitive ciphers in the |
Book of Genesis. A few words from his notes will give an idea of
the difficulties involved in decoding: |
"Archaic writings are usually in one system of letters or
characters, but those among the ancients who |
were in possession of the sacred mysteries of life and certain
secret astronomical cycles never trusted |
this knowledge to ordinary writing, but devised secret codes by
which they concealed their wisdom |
from the unworthy. Each of these communities or brotherhoods of
the enhghtened devised its own |
code. About 3000 B. C. only the Initiates and their scribes could
read and write. At that period the |
simpler methods of concealment were in vogue, one of which was to
drop certain letters from words in |
such a manner that the remaining letters still formed a word
which, however, conveyed an entirely |
different sense. As ages progressed other systems were invented,
until human ingenuity was taxed to |
the utmost in an endeavor to conceal and yet perpetuate sacred
knowledge. |
"In
order to decipher ancient writings of a religious or phiUsophic nature, it is
first necessary to |
discover
the code or method of concealment used by the scribe. In all my twenty years
of experience as |
a
reader of archaic writings I have never encountered such ingenious codes and
methods of |
concealment
as are found in this manuscript. In only a few instances are complete phrases
written in the |
same
alphabet; usually two or three forms of writing are employed, with letters
written upside down, |
reversed,
or with the text written backwards. Vowels are often omitted, and at times
several letters are |
missing
with merely dots to indicate their number. Every combination of hieroglyphics
seemed |
hopeless
at the beginning, yet, after hours of alphabetic dissection, one familiar
word would appear. |
This
gave a clue as to the language used, and established a place where word
combination might begin, |
and
then a sentence would gra dually unfold. |
"The
various texts are written in Chaldean Hebrew, Ionic Greek, Arabic, Syriac,
cuneiform, Greek |
hieroglyphics,
and ideographs. The keynote throughout this material is that of the approach
of the age |
when
the Leg of the Grand Man and the Waterman of the Zodiac shall meet in
conjunction at the |
equinox
and end a grand 400,000-year cycle. This points to a culmination of eons, as
mentioned in the |
Apocalypse:
"Behold! I make a new heaven and a new earth," meaning a series of
new cycles and a |
new
humanity. |
"The
personage who gathered the material in this manuscript was |
indeed
one whose spiritual understanding might be envied. He found these various
texts in different |
parts
of Europe, no doubt, and that he had a true knowledge of their import is
proved by the fact that he |
attempted
to conceal some forty fragmentary ancient texts by scattering them within the
lines of his |
own
writing. Yet his own text does not appear to have any connection with these
ancient writings. If a |
decipherer
were to be guided by what this eminent scholar wrote he would never decipher
the mystery |
concealed
within the cryptic words. There is a marvelous spiritual story written by
this savant, and a |
more
wonderful one he interwove within the pattem of his own narrative. The result
is a story within a |
story.
" |
In the
reprinting of the Freneh text of the Trinosophia, the spelling and
punctuation is according to the |
original.
It has been impossible, however, to reproduce certain peculiarities of the
calligraphy. In some |
cases
the punctuation is obscure, accents are omitted, and dashes of varying
lengths are inserted to fill |
out
lines. The present manuscript is undoubtedly a copy, as Thilotaume"
stated. The archaic characters |
and
the hieroglyphics reveal minor imperfections of formation due to the copyist
being unfamiliar with |
the
alphabets employed. |
The
considerable extent of the notes and commentaries has made it advisable to
place them together at |
the
end of the work rather than break up the continuity of the text by
over-frequent interpolations. |
La
Tres Sainte Trinosophie is not a manuscript for the tyro. Only deep study and
consideration will |
unravel
the complicated skein of its symbolismAlthough the text matter is treated
with the utmost |
simplicity,
every line is a profound enigma. Careful pemsal of the book, and meditation
upon its |
contents,
will convince the scholar that it has been well designated "the most
precious known |
manuscript
of occultism." |
PARALLEL
FRENCH AND |
ENGLISH
TEXT OF THE MOST |
HOLY
TRINOSOPHIA |
THE
MOST HOLY |
TRINOSOPHIA |
SECTION
ONE |
C'EST
dans I'azile des criminels dans les cachots IT is in the retreat of criminals
in the dungeons of |
de
rinquisition, que votre ami trace ces lignes qui |
doivent
servir a votre instruction. En songeant aux |
avantages
inapreciables que doit vous procurer cet |
ecrit
de I'amitie, je sens s'adoucir les horreurs |
d'une
c^tivite aussi longue que peu meritee . . . |
j'ai
du plaisir a penser qu'environne de gardes, |
charge
de fers, un esclave peut encore elever son |
ami
au dessus des puissants, des monarques qui |
gouvement
ce lieu d'exil. |
Vous
allez penetrer mon ctier Ptiiloctiate dans le |
sanctuaire
des sciences sublimes, ma main va lever |
pour
vous le voile impenetrable qui derobe aux |
yeux
du vulguaire, le tabemacle, le sanctuaire ou |
I'etemel
deposa les secrets de la nature, secrets |
qu'il
reserve pour quelques etres privilegies, pour |
les
Elus que sa toute puissance creat pour VOIR |
pour
planer a sa suite dans I'immensite de sa |
Gloire,
et detoumer sur I'espece humaine un des |
Rayons
qui brillent au tour de son Throne d'or. |
the
Inquisition that your Mend writes these lines |
which
are to serve for your instmction. At the |
thought
of the inestimable advantages which this |
document
of friendship will procure for you, the |
horrors
of a long and little deserved captivity seem |
to be
mitigated ... It gives me pleasure to think |
that
while surrounded by guards and encumbered |
by
chains, a slave may still be able to raise his |
friend
above the mighty, the monarch s who rule |
this
place of exile. |
My
dear PhUochatus, you are about to penetrate |
into
the sanctuary of the sublime sciences; my |
hand
is about to raise for you the impenetrable veil |
which
hides from the eyes of common men the |
tabemacle,
the sanctuary wherein the Etemal has |
lodged
the secrets of nature, kept for a few that are |
privileged,
the few Elect whom His omnipotence |
created
that they may SEE, and seeing, may soar |
after
Him in the vast expanse of His Glory and |
deflect
upon mankind one of the Rays that shine |
round
about His golden Throne. |
Puisse
I'exemple de votre ami etre pour vous une |
le9on
salutaire et je benirai les longues annees |
d'epreuves
que les mechans m'ont fait subir. |
Deux
ecueuils egalement dangereux se |
presenteront
sans cesse sur vos pas I'un outrageroit |
les
droits sacres de chaque individu c'est I'Abus du |
pouvoir
que DIEU vous auroit confie, I'autre |
causeroit
votre perte c'est L'Indiscretion . . . tous |
deux
sont nes d'une meme mere, tous deux doivent |
I'existence
a I'Orgueil, la foiblesse humaine les |
allaita,
ils sont aveugles, leur mere les conduit, par |
son
secours ces deux Monstres, vont porter leur |
soufle
impur jusque dans les coeurs des ELUS du |
tres
haut malheur a celui qui abuser-oit des dons du |
ciel
pour servir ses passions la main toute puissante |
qui
lui soumit les Elemens, le briseroit comme un |
foible
Roseau une etemite de tour-mens pourrait . . |
. a
peine expier son crime les Esprits Infemaux |
souriroient
avec dedain aux pleurs de I'etre dont la |
voix
mena9ante les fit si souvent trembler au sein |
If
your fiiend's example proves a salutary lesson |
for
you, I shall bless the long years of tribulation |
which
the wicked have made me suffer. |
Two
stumbhng blocks equally dangerous will |
constantly
present themselves to you. One of them |
would
outrage the sacred rights of every |
individual.
It is Misuse of the power which God |
will
have entrusted to you; the other, which would |
bring
min upon you, is Indiscretion. . . Both are |
bom
of the same mother, both owe their existence |
to
pride. Human frailty nourishes them; they are |
blind;
their mother leads them. With her aid these |
two
Monsters carry their foul breath even into the |
hearts
of the Lord's Elect. Woe unto him who |
misuses
the gifts of heaven in order to serve his |
passions.
The Almighty Hand that made the |
elements
subject to him, would break him like a |
fragile
reed. An eternity of torments could hardly |
expiate
his crime. The Infemal Spirits would smile |
with
contempt at the tears of the one whose |
de
leurs abimes de feu. |
Ce
n'est pas pour vous . . . Philochate que |
j'esquisse
ce tableau Effrayant, rami de rhumanite |
ne
deviendra jamais son persecuteur . . . mais |
r
Indiscretion mon fils ce besoin imperieux |
d'inspirer
I'etonnement, 1' admiration, voila le |
precipice
que je redoute pour vous, DIEU laisse |
aux
hommes le soin de punir le ministre imprudent |
qui
permet a I'oeuil du Prophane de penetrer dans |
le
sanctuaire mysterieux; O Philochate que mes |
malheurs
soient sans cesse presens a votre esprit, & |
moi
aussi j'ai connu le bonheur, comble des |
bienfaits |
du
ciel . . . entoure d'une puissance telle que |
I'entendement
humain ne peut la concevoir . . . |
commandant
aux genies qui dirigent le monde, |
heureux
du bonheur que je faisais naitre, je goutais |
au
sein d'une famille adoree la felicite que |
I'Etemel
accorde a ses enfans cheris . . . un instant |
a
tout detmit, j'ai parle et tout s'est evanoui |
comme
un nuage, 6 mon fils ne suivez pas mes |
traces.
. .qu'un vain desir de briller aux yeux du |
monde
ne cause pas aussi votre perte . . . pensez a |
moi .
. . c'est dans un cachot, le corps brise par les |
tortures
que votre ami vous ecrit; Philocate |
reflechissez
que la main qui trace ces caracteres |
porte
I'empreinte des fers qui I'accablent . . . Dieu |
m'a
puni, mais quai-je fait aux hommes cruels qui |
me
persecutent? Quel droit ont ils pour interroger |
le
ministre de I'Etemel? ils me demandent quelles |
sont
les preuves de ma 'mission, mes temoins sont |
des
prodiges, mes deffensseurs mes vertus, une vie |
intacte,
un coeur pur, que dis-je ai-je encore le |
droit
de me plaindre, j'ai parle le tres haut ma livre |
sans
force et sans puissance aux fureurs de lavare |
fanatisme,
le bras qui jadis pouvoit renverser une |
armee,
peut a peine aujourd'hui soulever les |
chaines
qui I'appesantisent. |
Je
megare je dois rendre grace a I'etemelle Justice . |
. .
le dieu vengeur a pardonne a son enfant |
repentant
un esprit Aerien a franchit les murs qui |
menacing
voice had so often made them tremble in |
the
bosom of their fiery depths. |
It is
not for you, Philochatus, that I sketch this |
dreadful
picture. The fiiend of humanity will never |
become
its persecutor . . . The precipice, my son, |
which
I fear for you, is Indiscretion, the imperious |
craving
to inspire astonishment and admiration. |
God
leaves to men the task of punishing the |
impmdent
minister who permits the eye of the |
profane
to look into the mysterious sanctuary. Oh |
Philochatus,
may my sorrows be ever present in |
your
mind. I, too, have known happiness, was |
showered
with the blessings of heaven |
and
surrounded by power such as the human mind |
cannot
conceive. Commanding the genii that guide |
the
world, happy in the happiness that I created, I |
enjoyed
within the bosom of an adored family the |
fehcity
which the Eternal accords to His beloved |
children.
One moment destroyed everything. I |
spoke,
and it all vanished like a cloud. O my son, |
follow
not in my steps . . . Let no vain desire to |
shine
before men bring you, too, to disaster . . . |
Think
of me, your friend, writing to you from this |
dungeon,
my body broken by torture! Remember, |
Philochatus,
that the hand which traces these |
characters
bears the marks of the chains which |
weigh
it down. God has punished me, but what |
have
I done to the cruel men that persecute me? |
What
right have they to interrogate the minister of |
the
Eternal? They ask me what are the proofs of |
my
mission. My witnesses are prodigies, and my |
virtues
are my defenders — a clean life, a pure |
heart.
But what am I saying! Have I still the right |
to
complain? I spoke, and the Lord dehvered me, |
deprived
of strength and power, to the furies of |
greedy
fanaticism. The arm which once could |
overthrow
an army can today hardly lift the chains |
that
weigh it down. |
I
wander. I should give thanks to eternal Justice . . . |
The
avenging God has pardoned His repentant |
child.
An aerial spirit has entered through the walls |
me
separent du monde; resplendissant de lumiere, |
il
s'estpresente devant moi il a fixe le terme de ma |
captivite
. . . dans deux ans mes malheurs finiront |
mes
bourreaux en entrant dans mon cachot le |
trouveront
desert et bientot purifie par les 4 |
elemens
. . . pur comme le |
genie
du feu je reprendrai le rang glorieux ou la |
bonte
Divine ma eleve mais combien ce terme est |
encore
eloigne combien deux annees parois-sent |
longues
a celui qui les passe dans les souffrances, |
dans
les humiliations, non contens de me faire |
souffrir
les supplices les plus horribles mes |
persecuteurs
ont employe pour me tourmenter des |
moyens
plus surs plus odieux encore, ils ont |
appelle
I'infamie sur ma tete, ils ont fait de mon |
nom
un objet d'opprobre, les enfants des hommes |
reculent
avec effroi quand le hazard les a fait |
approcher
des murs de ma prison, ils craignent |
qu'une
vapeur mortelle ne s'ech^pe par |
louverture
etroite qui laisse passer comme a regret |
un
rayon de lumiere dans mon cachot. 6 Philocate |
. . .
c'est la le coup le plus cruel dont ils pouvoient |
m'accabler
. . . |
J'ignore
encore si je pourrai vous faire parvenir cet |
ouvrage
. . . Je juge des difficultes que j'eprouverai |
pour
le faire sortir de ce heu de tourmens, par |
celles
qu'il a fallu vaincre pour le terminer, prive |
de
tout secours jai moi meme compose les agens |
qui
metaient necessaires. Le feu de ma lampe |
quelques
pieces de moimaies et peu de |
subsubstances
chimiques echappees aux regards |
scmtateurs
de mes bourreaux ont produit les |
couleurs
qui ornent ce fruit des loisirs d'un |
prisonnier. |
Profitez
des instructions de votre malheureux ami. |
elles
sont tellement claires qu'il seroit a craindre |
que
cet ecrit tombat en dautres mains que les votres |
. . .
souvenez vous seulement que tout doit vous |
servir
. . . une ligne mal expliquee un caractere |
oublie,
vous empecheroient de lever le voile que la |
which
separate me from the world; he has shown |
himself
to me resplendent with light and has |
determined
the duration of my captivity. Within |
two
years my sufferings will end. My torturers |
upon
entering my cell will find it empty and, soon |
purified |
by
the four elements, pure as the genius of fire, I |
shall
resume the glorious station to which Divine |
goodness
has raised me. But how distant as yet is |
this
time! How long two years seem to one who |
spends
them in suffering and humiliation. Not |
content
with making me undergo the most horrible |
agony,
my oppressors, to torture me further have |
devised
still surer, still more revolting means. They |
have
brought infamy on my head, have made my |
name
a thing of disgrace. The children of men |
recoil
in terror when by chance they approach the |
walls
of my prison; they fear lest some deadly |
vapour
escape through the narrow slit that |
reluctantly
admits a ray of light to my cell. That, O |
Philochatus,
is the crudest of all blows that they |
could
bear down upon me. |
I
know not whether I shall be able to get this |
document
into your hands . . . I judge the difficulty |
I
shall have in contriving for it a way out of this |
place
of torture by those I have had in order to |
write
it. Deprived of all help, I myself have |
composed
the agents I needed. The flame of my |
lamp,
some coins, and a few chemical substances |
overlooked
by the scrutinizing eyes of my |
tormentors
have yielded the colours which adorn |
this
Suit of a prisoner's leisure. |
Profit
by the instmctions of your unhappy fiiend! |
They
are so clear that danger exists for them to fall |
into
hands other than yours . . . Remember only |
that
all of it is to serve you ... an obscure line, an |
omitted
character would prevent your lifting the |
veil
which the hand of the Creator has placed over |
the
Sphinx. |
main
du createur a pose Sur le Sphinx. |
Adieu
Philocate ne me plaignez pas la clemence de Adieu, Philochatus ! Do not mourn
me. Ttie |
I'Etemel
egale sa justice, ala premiere assemblee clemency of the Eternal equals His
justice. At the |
mysterieuse
vous reverez votre ami. Je vous salue first mysterious assembly you will see
your friend |
en
Dieu, bientot je donnerai le baiser de paix a mon again. I salute you in the
name of God. Soon I shall |
fi'ere.
give the kiss of peace to my brother. |
SECTION
TWO |
etoit
nuit la lune cachee par des nuages sombres |
ne
jettoit qu'une lueur incertaine sur les blocs de |
lave
qui environnent la Solfatara, la tete couverte |
du
voile de Lin, tenant dans mes mains le rameau |
d'or
je m'avangais sans crainte vers le lieu ou |
javois
re§u I'ordre de passer la nuit. Errant sur un |
sable
brulant je le sentois a chaque instant |
s'affaisser
sous mes pas les nuages |
s'ammoncelaient
. . . sur ma tete, I'eclair sillonnait |
la
nue, et donnait une teinte sanglante aux flammes |
it
WAS night. The moon, veiled by dark clouds, |
cast
but an uncertain light on the crags of lava that |
hemmed
in the Solfatara. My head covered with |
the
Unen veU, holding in my hands the golden |
bough,
I advanced without fear toward the spot |
where
I had been ordered to pass the night. I was |
groping
over hot sand which I felt give way under |
my
every step. The clouds gathered overhead. |
Lightning
flashed through the night and gave to the |
flames
of the volcano a bloodlike appearance. At |
|
|
|
du
volcan . . . Enfin j' arrive, je trouve un autel de |
fer
j'y place le rameau mysterieux . . . Je prononce |
les
mots redoutables ... a I'instant la terre tremble |
sous
mes pieds le tonnerre eclate ... les |
mugissements
du Vesuve |
|
•
repondent a ces coups redoubles ses feux se |
joignent
aux feux de la foudre ... les coeurs des |
Genie
s s'elevent dans les airs et font repeter aux |
echos
les louanges du createur ... la branche |
consacree
que j'avais place sur I'autel triangulaire |
s'enflame
tout a coup une epaisse fiimee |
m'environne,
je cesse de voir, plonge dans les |
tenebres
je cms descendre dans un abime, Jignore |
combien
de temps je restai dans cette |
|
|
|
p.
42 |
|
situation
mais en ouvrant les yeux, je cherchai |
vainement
les objets qui m'entouraient |
quelquetems
auparavant; I'autel le Vesuve la |
campagne
de Naples avoient fiii loin de mes yeux |
j'etois
dans un vaste souterrain, seul, eloigne du |
monde
entier . . . pres de moi etait une robe longue, |
blanche,
son tissu delie me sembla compose de fil |
de
lin, sur une masse de granit etait posee une |
lampe
de cuivre au dessus une table noire chargee |
de
caracteres grecs m'indiquaient la route que je |
devois
suivre je pris la lampe et apres avoir revetu |
la
robe je m'engageai dans un chemin etroit dont |
les
parois etaient revetus de marbre noir ... II avait |
trois
mille de longueur, mes pas retentissaient |
d'une
maniere effrayante sous ces voutes |
silencieuses
enfin je trouvai une porte elle |
conduisait
a des degres, je les descendis . . . apres |
avoir
marche longtems je crus appercevoir une |
lueur
errante devant moi je cachai ma lampe je |
fixai
mes yeux sur I'objet que j'entre, voyais il se |
dissipa
s'evanouit comme une ombre. |
|
Sans
reproches sur le passe sans crainte sur |
I'avenir
je continual ma route elle devenait de plus |
en
plus penible . . . toujours engage dans des |
galeries
composees de quartiers de pierres noires . . |
. je
n'osais fixer le terme de mon voyage souterrain |
enfin
apres une marche immense, jarrivai a une |
|
|
|
last
I arrived and found an iron altar where I placed |
the
mysterious bough ... I pronounce the |
formidable
words . . . instantly the earth trembles |
under
my feet, thunder peals . . . Vesuvius roars in |
answer
to the repeated strokes; its fires join the |
fires
of lightning . . . The choirs of the genii rise |
into
the air and make the echoes repeat the praises |
of
the Creator . . . The hallowed bough which I had |
placed
on the triangular altar suddenly is ablaze. A |
thick
smoke envelops me. I cease to see. Wrapped |
in
darkness, I seemed to descend into an abyss. I |
know
not how long I remained in that situation. |
When
I opened my eyes, I |
|
|
|
vainly
looked for the objects which had surrounded |
me a
little time ago. The altar, Vesuvius, the |
country
round Naples had vanished far from my |
sight.
I was in a vast cavern, alone, far away from |
the
whole world . . . Near by me lay a long, white |
robe;
its loosely woven tissue seemed to me to be |
of
linen. On a granite boulder stood a copper lamp |
upon
a black table covered with Greek words |
indicating
the way I was to follow. I took the lamp, |
and
after having put on the robe I entered a narrow |
passage
the walls of which were covered with |
black
marble ... It was three miles long and my |
steps
resounded fearfully under its silent vault. At |
last
I found a door that opened on a flight of steps |
which
I descended. After having walked a long |
time
I seemed to see a wandering light before me. I |
hid
my lamp and fixed my eyes on the object |
which
I beheld. It dissipated, vanishing hke a |
shadow. |
|
Without
reproach of the past, without fear of the |
ftiture,
I went on. The way became increasingly |
difficult
. . . always confined within galleries |
composed
of black stone blocks ... I did not dare |
to
guess at the length of my underground travel. At |
last,
after a long, long march I came to a square |
chamber.
A door in the middle of each of its four |
sides
opened; they were of different colours, and |
|
|
|
place
quarree: une porte souvrait au milieu de each door was placed at one of the
four cardinal |
chacune
de ses quatre faces elles etaient de couleur points. I entered through the
north door which was |
differente
et placee chacune a I'un des quatre black; the opposite one was red; the door
to the |
points
cardinaux, j'entrai par celle du septentrion east was blue and the one facing
it was of dazzling |
elle
etoit noire, celle qui me faisoit face etoit rouge, white ... In the middle
of this chamber |
la
porte de I'orient etoit bleue, celle qui lui etait |
opposee
etait d'une blancheur eclatante |
|
|
|
p.
43 |
|
. .
au centre de cette salle etait une masse quarree, |
une
etoile de cristal brillait sur son milieu. On |
voyait
une peinture sur la face septentrionale elle |
representait
une femme nue jusqu'a la ceinture, |
une
draperie noire lui tomboit sur les genoux deux |
bandes
d'argent ornaient son vetement, dans sa |
main
etait une baguette, elle laposoit sur le front |
d'un
homme place vis-a-vis d'eUe. une table |
terminee
par un seul pied etait entre eux deux sur |
la
table etait une coupe et un fer de lance, Une |
flame
soudaine s'elevait de terre. et sembloit se |
dinger
vers Thomme une inscription expUquait le |
sujet
de cette peinture. Une autre m'indiquait les |
moyens
que je devois employer pour sortir de cette |
saUe. |
|
Je
voulus me retirer apres avoir considere le |
tableau
et I'etoile, jallais entrer dans la porte rouge |
quand
toumant sur ses gonds avec un bmit |
epouvantable
elle se referma devant moi, je voulois |
tenter
la meme epreuve sur celle que decoroit la |
couleur
de ciel, elle ne se ferma point mais un bruit |
soudain
me fit detoumer la tete, je vis I'etoUe |
sagiter,
elle se detache, roule et se plonge |
rapidement
dans I'ouverture de la porte blanche, je |
la
suivis aussitot. |
|
|
|
was a
square mass; on its center shone a crystal |
star.
On the north side was a painting representing |
a
woman naked to the waist; a black drapery fell |
over
her knees and two silver bands adorned her |
garment.
In her hand was a rod which she placed |
against
the forehead of a man facing her across a |
table
which stood on a single support and bore a |
cup
and a lance-head. A sudden flame rose from |
the
ground and seemed to turn toward the man. An |
inscription
explained this picture; another indicated |
the
means I was to employ in order to leave this |
chamber. |
|
After
having contemplated the picture and the star |
I was
about to pass through the red door when, |
tuming
on its hinges with terrific noise, it closed |
before
me. I made the same attempt with the door |
of
sky-blue colour; it did not close but a sudden |
noise
induced me to turn my head. I saw the star |
flicker,
rise from its place, revolve, then dart |
rapidly
through the opening of the white door. I |
followed
it at once. |
|
|
|
p.
44 |
|
|
|
|
p.
45 |
|
|
|
SECTION
THREE |
|
|
|
UN
vent impetueux s'eleva jeus peine a conserver |
ma
lampe allumee enfin un perron de marbre blanc |
s'offrit
a ma vue j'y montai par neuf marches |
arrive
a la demiere j'apper9us une immense |
etendue
d'eau; des torrens impetueux se faisaient |
entendre
a ma droite, a gauche une pluie froide |
mellee
de masses de grele tombait pres de moi je |
considerais
cette sgene majestueuse quand I'etoile |
qui
m'avait guide sur le perron et qui se balan§ait |
lentement
sur ma tete se plongea dans le gouffre je |
crus
lire les ordres du tres haut je me precipitai au |
milieu
des vagues une main invisible saisit ma |
|
|
|
A
STRONG wind arose and I had difficulty in |
keeping
my lamp alight. At last I saw a white |
marble
platform to which I mounted by nine steps. |
Arrived
at the last one I beheld a vast expanse of |
water.
To my right I heard the impetuous tumbling |
of
torrents; to my left a cold rain mixed with |
masses
of hail fell near me. I was contemplating |
this
majestic scene when the star which had guided |
me to
the platform and which was slowly swinging |
overhead,
plunged into the gulf Believing that I |
was
reading the commands of the Most High, I |
threw
myself into the midst of the waves. An |
|
|
|
lampe
et la posa sur le sommet de ma tete. Je |
|
fendis
I'onde ecumeuse et m'efforgai de gagner le |
point
oppose a celui dont j'etois parti, enfin je vis a |
rhoiison
une foible clarte, je me hatai, jetois au |
milieu
des eaux et la sueur couvroit mon visage, je |
mepuisais
en vains efforts la rive que je pouvois a |
peine
appercevoir sembloit fuir devant moi a |
mesure
que j'avan9ais, mes forces |
m'abandonnaient,
je ne craignois pas de mourir, |
mais
de mourir sans etre illumine . . . je perdis |
courage
et levant vers la voute mes yeux baignes |
de
pleurs. Je m'ecriai "Judica judicium |
|
|
|
invisible
hand seized my lamp and placed it on the |
crown
of my head. I breasted the foamy wave and |
struggled
to reach the side opposite the one which I |
had
left. At last I saw on the horizon a feeble |
gleam
and hastened forward. Perspiration streamed |
down
my face and I exhausted myself in vain |
efforts.
The shore which I could scarcely discem |
seemed
to recede to the degree 1 advanced. My |
strength
was ebbing. I feared not to die, but to die |
without
illumination ... I lost courage, and lifting |
to
the vault my tear-streaming eyes |
|
|
|
p.
46 |
|
|
|
meum
et redime me, propter eloquium tuum |
vivifica
me," a peine pouvois-je agiter mes |
membres
fatigues j'enfongais de plus en plus |
quand
j'appei^us pres de moi une barque, un |
homme
couvert de riches habits, la conduisoit, je |
remarquai
que la proue etoit toumee vers la rive |
que
j'avois quitte, il s'appnocha, une courorme d'or |
brillait
sur son front vade me cum me dit-il, mecum |
principium
in terris, instruam te in via hac qua |
gradueras.
Je lui repondis a I'instant bonum est |
sperare
in Domino quam considere in principibus . |
. . a
I'instant la barque et le monarque s'abimerent |
dans
le fleuve une force nouvelle sembla couler |
dans
mes veines je parvins a gagner le but de mes |
fatigues,
je me trouvai sur un rivage seme de sable |
vert.
Un mur d'argent etoit devant moi deux lames |
de
marbre rouge etaient incrustees dans son |
epaisseur,
j'approchai I'une etait charge de |
caracteres
s acres sur 1' autre etoit gravee une hgne |
de
lettres grecques entre les deux lames etait un |
cercle
de fer deux lions, I'un rouge et I'autre noir, |
reposaient
sur des nuages et semblaient garder une |
couronne
d'or placee au dessus deux, on voyoit |
encore
pres du cercle un arc et deux fleches je lus |
quelques
caracteres ecrits sur les flancs d'un des |
Hons,
a peine avais-je observe ces differens |
emblemes,
qu'ils disparurent avec la muraille qui |
les
contenait. |
|
|
|
I
cried out: "Judica judicium meum et redime me, |
propter
eloquium tuum vivifica me." (Judge thou |
my
judgment and redeem me, by thy eloquence |
make
me live.) I could hardly move my tired Umbs |
and
was sinking more and more when near me I |
saw a
boat. A richly dressed man guided it. I |
noticed
that the prow was tumed toward the shore |
which
I had left. He drew near. A golden crown |
shone
on his forehead. "Vade me cum," said he, |
"mecum
principium in terris, instruam to in via hac |
qua
gradueris." (Come with me, with me, the |
foremost
in the world; I will show thee the way |
thou
must follow.) 1 instantly answered him: |
"Bonum
est sperare in Domino quam considere in |
principibus.
"(li is better to trust in the Lord than to |
sit
among the mighty.) Whereupon the boat sank |
and
the monarch with it. Fresh energy seemed to |
course
through my veins and I gained the goal of |
my
efforts. I found myself on a shore covered with |
green
sand. A silver wall was before me inlaid with |
two
panels of red marble. Approaching I noticed |
on
one of them sacred script, the other being |
engraved
with a line of Greek letters; between the |
two
plates was an iron circle. Two lions, one red |
and
the other black, rested on clouds and appeared |
to
guard a golden crown above them. Also near the |
circle
were to be seen a bow and two arrows. I read |
several
characters written on the flanks of one of |
the
lions. 1 had barely observed these different |
emblems
when they vanished together with the |
|
|
|
wall
which contained them. |
|
|
|
p.
47 |
|
SECTION
FOUR |
|
|
|
A sa
place un lac de feu se presenta devant moi, le |
soufre
et le bitume roulaient leurs flots enflaimnes |
je
fremis, una voix eclatante m'ordonna de |
traverser
ces flammes, j'obeis et les flammes |
semblerent
avoir perdu leur activite longtems je |
marchai
au milieu de I'incendie, arrive dans un |
espace
circulaire, je contemplai le pompeux |
spectacle
dont la bonte du ciel daignait me faire |
jouir. |
|
Quarante
colonnes de feu decoraient la salle dans |
laqu'elle
je me trouvois un cote des colonnes |
brilloit
d'un feu blanc et vif, I'autre sembloit dans |
r
ombre une flamme noiratre le couvrait; au centre |
de ce
lieu s'elevait un autel en forme de serpent, un |
or
verd embel, lissoit son ecaille diapree sur la |
qu'elle
se reflettaient les flammes qui 1' environ, |
naient,
ses yeux semblaient des rubis, une |
inscription
argentee etait posee pres de lui. Une |
riche
epee etait plantee en terre pres du serpent, |
une
coupe reposoit sur sa tete . . . J'entendis le |
coeur
des esprits celestes, une voix me dit le terme |
be
tes travaux approche, prends le glaive, frappe le |
serpent. |
|
|
|
IN
its place a lake of fire presented itself to my |
sight.
Sulphur and bitumen rolled in flaming |
waves.
I trembled. A loud voice commanded me to |
pass
through the flames. I obeyed, and the flames |
seemed
tb have lost their power. For a long time I |
walked
within the conflagration. Arrived at a |
circular
space I contemplated the gorgeous |
spectacle
which by the grace of heaven it was |
given
me to enjoy. |
|
Forty
columns of fire ornamented the hall in which |
I
found myself. One side of the columns shone |
with
a white and vivid fire, the other side seemed |
to be
in shadow; a blackish flame covered it. In the |
center
of this place stood an altar in the form of a |
serpent.
A greenish gold embellished its diapered |
scales
in which the surrounding flames were |
reflected.
Its eyes looked like rubies. A silvery |
inscription
was placed near it and a rich sword had |
been
driven into the ground near the serpent, on |
whose
head rested a cup ... I heard the choir of the |
celestial
spirits and a voice said to me: "The end of |
thy
labours draws near. Take the sword and smite |
the
serpent." |
|
|
|
p.
48 |
|
|
|
|
p.
49 |
|
|
|
Je
tirai I'epee de son fourreau et m'approchant de |
I'autel
je pris la coupe d'une main et de I'autre je |
portai
un coup terrible sur le col du serpent, I'epee |
rebondit,
le coup raisonna comme si javois frappe |
une
cloche d'airain, a peine avois-je obei a la voix |
que
I'autel disparut les colonnes se perdirent dans |
I'immensite,
le son que j'avois entendu en frappant |
I'autel
se repeta comme si mille coups etaient |
frappes
en meme temps, une main me saisit par les |
cheveux
et m'eleva vers la voute, elle souvrit pour |
me
Uvrer passage, des vains fantomes se |
presenterent
devant moi, des Hydres, des Lamies |
m'entourerent
de serpens, la vue de I'epee que je |
tenois
a la main ecarta cette foule immonde comme |
les
premiers rayons du jour dissipent les songes |
|
|
|
I
drew the sword from its sheath and approaching |
the
altar I took the cup with one hand and with the |
other
I struck a terrific blow upon the neck of the |
serpent.
The sword rebounded and the blow re- |
echoed
as if I had struck on a brass beU. No sooner |
had I
obeyed the voice than the altar disappeared |
and
the columns vanished in boundless space. The |
sound
which I had heard when striking the altar |
repeated
itself as if a thousand blows had been |
struck
at the same time. A hand seized me by the |
hair
and lifted me toward the vault which opened |
to
let me through. Shadowy phantoms appeared |
before
me — Hydras, Lamias and serpents |
surrounded
me. The sight of the sword in my hand |
scattered
the foul throng even as the first rays of |
|
|
|
freles
enfans de la nuit. Apr^s etre monte par une |
|
ligne
perpendiculaire a travers les couches qui |
composent
les parrois du globe. Je revis la lumiere |
du
Jour. |
|
|
|
light
dissipate the frail dream-chUdren of the night. |
|
After
mounting straight upward through the layers |
that
composed the walls of the globe, I saw again |
the
light of day. |
|
|
|
p.
50 |
|
|
|
|
p.
51 |
|
|
|
SECTION
FIVE |
|
|
|
A
PEINE etais-je parvenu a la surface de la terre, SCARCELY had I risen to the
surface of the earth, |
que
mon conducteur invisible m'entraina plus when my unseen guide led me still
more swiftly, |
rapidement
encore, la velocite avec laqu', elle nous The velocity with which we sped
through space |
parcourions
les espaces aeriens ne peut etre can be compared with naught but itself In
an |
|
comparee
a rien qu'a elle meme; en un instant j'eus instant I had lost sight of the
plains below. I |
perdu
de vue les plaines sur les qu'elles je noticed with astonishment that I had
emerged from |
|
dominais
. . . j' avals observe avec etonnement, que the bowels of the earth far from
the country about |
j'etais
sorti du sein de la terre loin des campagnes Naples. A desert and some
triangular masses were |
de
Naples une plaine deserte quelques masses the only objects I could see. Soon,
in spite of the |
triangulaires
etaient les seuls objets que j 'eusse trials which I had undergone, a new
terror assailed |
appergu.
Bientot malgre les epreuves que j'avois me. The earth seemed to me only a
vague cloud. I |
subies,
une nouvelle terreur vint m'assailUr, la terre had been lifted to a
tremendous height. My |
|
|
|
ne me
semblaitplus qu'un nuage confus, j'etois |
eleve
a une hauteur immense mon guide invisible |
m'abandonna
je redescendis pendant un assez long |
tems
je roulai dans I'espace; deja la terre se |
deployait
a mes regards troubles . . . je pouvois |
calculer
combien de minutes se passeraient avant |
que
j'aille me briser contre un rocher. Bientot |
prompt
comme la pensee mon conducteur se |
precipe
apres moi il me reprend m'enleve encore |
une
fois, il me laisse retomber, enfin il m'eleve |
avec
lui a une distance incommensurable, je voyois |
des
globes rouler autour de moi, des terres |
|
|
|
p.
52 |
|
graviter
a mes peids tout a coup le genie qui me |
portois
me touche les yeux, je perdis le sentiment. |
J'ignore
combien de temps je passai en cet etat, a |
mon
reveil je me trouvai couche sur un riche |
coussin,
des fleurs des aromates, embaumaient I'air |
que
je respirais . . . Une robe bleu semee d'etoiles |
d'or
avoit remplace le vetement de lin. vis-a-vis de |
moi
etait un autel Jaune. un feu pur s'en exallait |
sans
qu'aucune autre substance que I'autel meme |
I'alimentat.
Des caracteres noirs etaient graves sur |
sa
baze. Aupres etoit un flambeau allume qui |
brilloit
comme le soleil, au dessus etoit un oiseau |
dont
les pieds etaient noirs, le corps d 'argent; la |
tete
rouge les ailes noires et Le Col d'or. II s'agitait |
sans
cesse mais sans faire usage de ses ailes. H ne |
pouvoit
voler que lorsqu'il se trouvoit au milieu |
des
flammes. dans son bee etoit une branche verte |
son
nom est |
|
|
|
|
celui
de I'autel est |
|
|
|
|
I'autel,
I'oiseau et le flambeau sont le simbole de |
tout,
rien ne peut etre fait sans eux, eux meme sont |
tout
ce qui est bon et grand, le flambeau se nomme |
|
|
|
invisible
guide left me and I descended again. For |
quite
a long time I rolled through space; already |
the
earth spread out before my confused vision . . . |
I
could estimate how many minutes would pass |
until
I would be crushed on the rocks. But quick as |
thought
my guide darts down beside me, takes hold |
of
me, lifts me up again, and again lets me fall. |
Finally
he raises me with him to an immeasurable |
distance.
I saw globes revolve around me and |
earths
gravitate at my feet. Suddenly the genius |
who
bore me touched my eyes and I swooned. I |
know
not |
|
|
|
how
long I remained in this condition . When I |
awoke
I was lying on a luxurious cushion; the air I |
breathed
was saturated with the fragrance of |
flowers
... A blue robe spangled with golden stars |
had
replaced my linen garment. A yellow altar |
stood
opposite me from which a pure flame |
ascended
having no other substance for its |
alimentation
than the altar itself Letters in black |
were
engraved at the base of the altar. A lighted |
torch
stood beside it, shining like the sun; hovering |
above
it was a bird with black feet, silvery body, a |
red
head, black wings and a golden neck. It was in |
constant
motion without however using its wings. |
It
could only fly when in the midst of the flames. |
In
its beak was a green branch; its name is |
|
|
|
|
the
name of the altar is |
|
|
|
|
Altar,
bird and torch are the symbol of all things. |
Nothing
can be done without them. They |
themselves
are all that is good and great. The name |
of
the torch is |
|
|
|
|
Quatre
inscriptions entouraient ces differents Four inscriptions surrounded these
different |
|
emblemes.
emblems. |
|
|
|
p.
53 |
|
SECTION
SIX |
|
|
|
JE me
detoumai et j'appergus un palais immense, |
sa
baze reposoit sur des nuages, des marbres |
composaient
sa masse; sa forme etoit triangulaire |
quatre
etages de colonnes s'elevaient les uns sur |
les
autres. Une boule doree terminoit cet edifice le |
premier
rang de colonne etoit blanc, le second noir, |
le
troisieme verd le demier etoit d'un rouge |
brUlant,
je voulus apres avoir admire cet ouvrage |
des
artistes etemels retoumer au lieu ovi etoient |
I'autel,
rOiseau et le flambeau, je voulois encore |
les
observer ils etoient dispams, je les cherchois |
des
yeux quand les portes du palais s'ouvrirent, un |
vieillard
venerable en sortit, sa robe etoit |
semblable
a la mienne excepte qu'un soleil dore |
brilloit
sur sa poitrine sa main droite tenoit une |
branche
verte, 1' autre soutenoit un encensoir, une |
chaine
de bois etoit attachee a son col une thiare |
pointue
comme celle de Zoroastre couvroit sa tete |
blanchie
il s'approcha de moi; le sourire de la |
bienveiUance
erroit sur ses levres. Adore Dieu me |
dit-U
en langue Persane, c'est lui qui ta soutenu |
dans
les epreuves son esprit |
|
|
|
I
TURNED aside and noticed an immense palace |
the
base of which rested on clouds. Its mass was |
composed
of marble and its form was triangular. |
Four
tiers of columns were raised one above the |
other.
A golden ball topped the edifice. The first |
tier
of columns was white, the second black, the |
third
green and the last one a brilliant red. I |
intended,
after having admired this work of |
immortal
artists, to return to the place of the altar, |
the
bird and the torch; I desired to study them |
further.
They had disappeared and with my eyes I |
was
searching for them when the doors of the |
palace
opened. A venerable old man came forth |
clad
in a robe like mine, except that a golden sun |
shone
on his breast. His right hand held a green |
branch,
the other upheld a censer. A wooden chain |
was
about his neck and a pointed tiara like that of |
Zoroaster
covered his white head. He came toward |
me, a
benevolent smile on his lips. "Adore God" |
said
he to me in Persian. "It is He who sustained |
thee
in thy trials; His spirit was with thee. My son, |
thou
hast let |
|
|
|
p.
54 |
|
|
|
et
I'autel and the altar |
|
|
|
tu
serois serois devenu a la fois Autel, Oiseau et |
Flambeau.
H faut a present pour parvenir au lieu le |
plus
secret du Palais des sciences sublimes que tu |
en
parcours tous les detours, viens . . . Je dois avant |
tout
te presenter a mes freres. n me prit la main et |
m'introduisit
dans une vaste salle. |
|
Des
yeux vulgaires ne peuvent concevoir la forme |
et la
richesse des ome-mens qui I'embellissoient |
trois
cent soixante colonnes I'entouraient de toutes |
parts,
au plafond etoit une croix rouge, blanche, |
bleue
et noire, un anneau d'or la soutenoit. Au |
centre
de la salle etoit un autel triangulaire |
compose
des quatre elemens sur ses trois points |
etaient
poses I'oiseau, I'autel et le flambeau. lis ont |
change
de nom me dit mon guide, ici on nomme |
I'oiseau |
|
|
|
Thou
wouldst have become altar, bird and torch at |
one
and the same time. Now, in order to arrive at |
the
most secret place of the Palace of sublime |
sciences,
it will be necessary for thee to pass |
through
all by-ways. Come ... I must first of all |
present
thee to my brothers." He took me by the |
hand
and led me into a vast haU. |
|
The
eyes of the vulgar cannot conceive the form |
and
richness of the omaments which embellished |
it.
Three hundred and sixty columns enclosed it on |
all
sides. Suspended from a golden ring in the |
ceiling
was a cross of red, white, blue and black. In |
the
center of the hall was a triangular altar |
composed
of the four elements; on its three points |
were
placed the bird, the altar and the torch. "Their |
names
are now changed," said my guide. Here the |
bird
is called |
|
|
|
|
|
I'autel |
|
|
|
et le
flambeau |
|
|
|
the
altar |
|
|
|
and
the torch |
|
|
|
la
salle est appellee |
|
|
|
The
hall is called |
|
|
|
\3Cis |
|
|
|
I'autel
triangulaire |
|
|
|
and
the triangular altar |
|
|
|
p.
56 |
|
|
|
Autour
de I'autel etaient places quatre-vingt-un |
Thrones;
on montait a chacun par neuf marches de |
hauteur
inegale; des housses rouges les couvraient. |
|
Pendant
que j'examinois les thrones, le son d'une |
trompette
se fit entendre: a ce bruit les portes de la |
salle |
|
|
|
Around
the altar were placed eighty-one thrones, to |
each
of which one mounted by nine steps of |
unequal
height, the treads being covered with red |
carpets. |
|
While
I was examining the thrones, a trumpet |
sounded
whereupon the doors of the hall |
|
|
|
toumerent
sur leurs gonds pour laisser passer soix |
antedixneuf
personnes, toutes vetues comme |
mon
conducteur. EUes s'approcherentlentementet |
s'assirent
sur les thrones, mon guide se tint de bout |
aupres
de moi. Un viellard distingue de ses freres |
par
un manteau de pourpre dont les bords etaient |
chargee
de caracteres en broderies, se leva et mon |
guide
prenant la parole en langue sacree Voila dit- |
il un
de nos enfans que Dieu veut rendre aussi |
grand
que ses peres. Que la volante du seigneur |
s'accomplisse
repondit le vieillard. Mon fils |
ajoutatil
en s'adressant a moi votre temps |
d'epreuves
physiques est accompli ... II vous reste |
a
faire de grands voyage, desormais vous vous |
appellerez |
|
avant
de parcourir cet edifice, huit de mes ireres et |
moi
allons vous faire chacun un present il vint a |
moi
et me donna avec le baiser de paix. un cubed e |
terre
grise on le nomme |
|
|
|
swung
on theirhinges to let pass seventy-nine |
persons,
all attired Uke my guide. Slowly they |
came
near and seated themselves on the thrones |
while
my guide stood beside me. An old man, |
distinguished
from his brothers by a purple mantle |
the
hem of which was covered with embroidered |
characters,
arose, and my guide, addressing them |
in
the sacred tongue, said: "Behold one of our |
children
whom it is the will of God to make as |
great
as his fathers." "May the will of the Lord be |
done,"
responded the old man, and tuming to me |
he
added: "My son, the time of thy physical trials |
is
now ended . . . There remain long journeys for |
thee
to undertake. Henceforth thy name shall be |
|
Before
thou visit this edifice, each of my eight |
brothers
and myself will present thee with a gift." |
He
walked up to me and with the kiss of peace |
gave
me a cube of grey earth called |
|
the
second gave me three cyhnders of black stone |
|
|
|
le
second trois cylindres de pierre noire appelee |
|
|
|
p.
57 |
|
le
troisieme un mor9eau de cristal airondi, on |
I'appelle |
|
|
|
|
le
quatrieme une aigrette de plumes bleues |
nommee |
|
le
cinquieme y joignit un vase d 'argent, qui porte |
le
nom de |
|
|
|
|
le
sixieme une grappe de raisin connue parmi les |
sages
sous le nom de |
|
le
septieme me presenta une figure d'oiseau |
semblable
pour la forme a |
|
mais
il n'avoit pas ses brillantes couleurs, il etoit |
d'argent,
U porte le meme nom me dit-il, c'est a toi |
a lui
donner les memes vertus. le huitieme me |
donna
un petit autel ressemblant aussi a I'autel |
|
|
|
called |
|
|
|
the
third a small piece of rounded crystal called |
|
|
|
|
the
fourth a crest of blue plumes named |
|
the
fifth added a silver vase which carries the name |
of |
|
|
|
|
^3 |
|
|
|
the
sixth gave me a cluster of grapes known by the |
sages
under the name of |
|
the
seventh presented me with the figure of a bird |
similar
in its form to |
|
but
it had not its brilliant hues; it was of silver. "It |
has
the same name," he said to me; "it is for thee to |
give
it the same virtues." The eighth gave me a |
small
altar, resembling the altar |
|
|
|
enfin
mon conducteur me mit dans main un |
flambeau
compose comme |
|
|
|
|
de
particules briUantes mais il etoit eteint. c'est a |
toi
ajoutatil comme ceux qui I'avoient precede a lui |
donner
les memes vertus, reflechis sur ces dons, |
me
dit ensuite le chef des sages tous tendent |
egalement
a la perfection, mais nul n'est parfait par |
lui
meme, c'est de leur melange que doit sortir |
I'ouvrage
divin. Sache encore que tous sont nuls si |
tu ne
les emploie suivant I'ordre dans le qu'el ils |
font |
|
|
|
Finally
my guide placed in my hand a torch |
composed,
like |
|
|
|
|
of
brilliant particles; however, it was not lighted. |
"It
is for thee," he added, "like those that have |
preceded
it to give it the same virtues." "Reflect on |
these
gifts" then said the chief sage. "They all lead |
equally
to perfection, but none of them is perfect in |
itself
It is from their admixture that the divine |
product
must come. Know also that all of them are |
null
if thou employ them not in the order in which |
thou
hast received them. The second, which serves |
for
the use of the first, remains merely |
|
|
|
p.
58 |
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|
ete
donne le second qui sert a employer le premier |
ne
seroit qu'une matiere brute sans chaleur, sans |
utilite
sans le secours de celui qui vient apres lui, |
garde
soigneusement les presens que tu as re9u et |
commence
les voyages apres avoir bu dans la |
coupe
de vie. II me presenta dans une coupe de |
cristal
une liqueur brillante et safranee son gout |
etoit
delicieux un parfum exquis s'en exalloit. Je |
voulus
rendre la coupe apres avoir trempe mes |
levres
dans la liqueur . . . acheve me dit le vieillard, |
ce
breuvage sera la seule nouriture que tu prendras |
pendant
le temps de tes voyages. J'obeis et je |
sentis
un feu divin parcourir tous les fibres de mon |
corps,
j'etois plus fort, plus courageux, mes |
facultes
meme intellectuelles, semblaient etre |
doublees. |
|
Je me
hatai de donner le salut des sages a I'auguste |
assemblee
que j'allais quitter, et par les ordres de |
mon
conducteur, je m'enfongai dans une longue |
galerie
qui se trouvoit a ma droite. |
|
|
|
crude
matter without warmth and without |
usefiibiess
unless in its turn it is aided by that |
which
comes after it. Guard carefully the gifts thou |
hast
received and set out upon thy journeys after |
thou
hast drunk from the cup of hfe. " Hereupon he |
handed
me in a crystal cup a shining liquor of |
saffron
hue; its taste was delicious and it emitted |
an
exquisite aroma. I was about to hand the cup |
back
to him after moistening my lips in the liquor, |
when
the old man said: "Drink it all; it will be thy |
only
nourishment during thy joumeys." I obeyed |
and
felt a divine fire course through all the fibers |
of my
body. I was stronger, braver; even my |
intellectual
powers seemed doubled. |
|
I
hastened to give the greeting of the wise men to |
the
august assembly I was about to leave, and at |
my
guide's command I entered a long gallery on |
my
right hand. |
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|
p.
59 |
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|
SECTION
SEVEN |
|
|
|
A
L'entree de la galerie dans la qu'elle je me |
trouvois
etoit posee une cuve d'acier, a mon |
approche
elle se remplit d'une eau pure comme le |
cristal,
qui vint s'epurer sur un sable blanc et fin. la |
cuve
etoit ovale; Elle etoit soutenue sur trois pieds |
d'airain.
une lame noire incrustee sur le cote qui |
regardoit
la porte renfermoit quelques caracteres. |
pres
de la cuve etoit un voile de lin. au dessus |
d'elle
deux colonnes de marbre vert supportoit une |
plaque
de marbre arrondie. On y voyoit entouree |
de
deux inscriptions la figure du cachet sacre. . . |
formee
d'une croix de quatre coleurs, attachee a |
une
traverse d'or qui soutient i deux autres cercles |
concentriques
le plus grand, noir. 1' autre rouge, a |
I'une
des colonnes etoit attachee une hache |
d'argent
dont la hampe etoit bleue elle s'appelle |
|
|
|
apres
avoir lu les inscriptions, je m'approchai de la |
cuve
et je my lavai, en commengant par les mains, |
je
finis par m'y plonger, tout en tier. J'y restai trois |
jours,
en sortant de I'eau je m'appergus qu'elle |
avoit |
|
|
|
AT
the entrance of this gallery stood an oval steel |
vessel
which upon my approach filled with crystal- |
clear
water, purified by fine white sand. The vessel |
rested
on three brass feet. A black panel had |
engraved
on it several characters on the side facing |
the
door. Near the vessel was a linen veil and |
above
the vessel two green marble columns |
supported
a round marble placque. One saw there, |
surrounded
by two inscriptions, the figure of the |
sacred
seal formed of a cross in four colours, |
attached
to a golden crosspiece which upheld 2 two |
other
concentric circles, the larger one being black, |
the
other red. To one of the columns was attached a |
silver
ax with a blue handle; it is called |
|
|
|
After
reading the inscriptions I went up to the |
vessel
and washed, first my hands, but finished by |
plunging
in bodily. I stayed there three days, and |
on
coming out of the water I saw that it had lost its |
transparency.
Its sand had become grayish and |
mst-coloured
particles stirred in |
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p.
60 |
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|
p.
61 |
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|
|
perdu
sa transparence, son sable etoit devenu |
grisatre,
des particules couleur de rouille |
s'agittaient
dans le fluide. Je voulus me secher |
avec
le secours du voile de lin, mais de nouvelles |
gouttes
d'eau rempla9aient sans cesse celles dont le |
Unge
s'imbibait je renon9ai a me secher avec le |
voile
et me tenant a I'ombre j 'y restai immobile |
pendant
six jours entiers; au bout de ce temps la |
source
de ces eaux fut tarie je me trouvai sec et |
plus
leger quoique mes forces me pamssent |
augmentees.
apres m'etre promene quelque temps |
je
retoumai a la Cuve, I'eau quelle contenoit etoit |
|
|
|
the
fluid. I tried to dry myself with the linen veil |
but
fresh drops of water kept taking the place of |
those
the linen absorbed. I gave up trying to dry |
myself
with the veil and, keeping in the shade, I |
remained
there motionless for six whole days. At |
the
end of this time the source of these waters was |
exhausted.
I found that I was dry and lighter |
though
my strength seemed to be increased. After |
walking
about for a little while I returned to the |
vessel.
The water which had been in it was gone. |
In
its place was a reddish liquid; the sand was gray |
and
metallic. I again bathed in it, being careful |
|
|
|
epuisee,
a sa place etoit une liqueur rougeatre, le |
sable
etoit gris et metaUique. Je m'y baignai de |
nouveau,
en observant cependant de n'y rester que |
quelques
instans, en me retirant je vis que j'avois |
absorbe
une partie du liquide. cette fois je ne tentai |
pas
de tarir avec le linge, la liqueur dont j'etois |
impregne,
elle I'auroit detmit a I'instant; tant eUe |
etoit
forte et cor, rosive. Je fut a 1' autre bout de la |
gallerie
m'etendre sur un lit de sable chaud, j'y |
passai
sept jours au bout de ce temps je revins a la |
cuve
I'eau etoit semblable ala premiere, je m'y |
replongeai
et en ressortis apres m'etre lave avec |
soin.
cette fois je parvins sans peine a m'essuyer, |
enfin
apres m'etre purifie selon les instmctions que |
j'avois
re9u, je me disposal a sortir de cette galerie |
apres
y etre reste seize jours. |
|
|
|
however
to remain there only a few moments. |
When
stepping out of it I noticed that I had |
absorbed
part of the liquid. This time I did not try |
to
dry myself with the cloth, for the liquor with |
which
I was saturated was so strong and corrosive |
that
it would have instantly destroyed the fabric. I |
found
myself at the other end of the gallery |
stretched
out on a bed of warm sand where I spent |
seven
days. After this time I returned to the vessel. |
The
water was as it had first appeared. Once more I |
plunged
into it and after having washed myself |
careftilly,
came out. This time I had no difficulty in |
drying
myself. Finally, after having purified myself |
according
to the mstmctions I had received, I |
prepared
to leave this gallery in which I had spent |
sixteen
days. |
|
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|
Footnotes |
|
|
|
59:1
deux cercles qu 'entourent. |
59:2
two circles which surround |
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|
p.
62 |
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|
p.
63 |
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|
|
SECTION
EIGHT |
|
|
|
JE
quittai la galerie par une porte basse et etroite et |
j'entrai
dans un appartement circulaire . . . ses |
lambris
etoient de bois de frene et de sandal, au |
fond
de I'appartement sur un socle compose de |
seps
de vigne reposait une masse de sel blanc et |
brillant,
au dessus etoit un tableau il representor un |
Hon
blanc couronne. et une grappe de raisin, ils |
etoient
poses sur un meme plateau, que la fumee |
d'un
brasier allume elevoit dans les airs. A ma |
droite
et a ma gauche souvraient deux portes I'une |
|
|
|
I
LEFT the gallery by a low and narrow door and |
entered
a circular apartment the panelling of which |
was
made of ash and sandal wood. At the further |
end
of the apartment on a pedestal composed of the |
trunk
of a vine lay a mass of white and shining salt. |
Above
was a picture showing a crowned white Hon |
and a
cluster of grapes; both rested on a salver |
sustained
in the air by the smoke of a lighted |
brazier.
To my right and left two doors opened, one |
giving
unto an arid plain. A dry and scorching |
|
|
|
donnoit
sur une plaine aride. Un vent sec et brulant |
y
regnoit en tout temps. I'autre porte souvroit sur |
un
lac a I'extremite du quel on appercevoit une |
fa9ade
de marbre noir. |
|
Je
m'approchai pres de I'autel etpris dans mes |
mains
du sel blanc et brillant. que les sages |
appellent |
|
Je
m'en frottai tout le corps. Je m'en penetrai et |
apres
avoir lu les hierogliphes qui accompagnoient |
le
tableau je m'appretai a quitter cette salle. mon |
premier
dessein etoit de sortir Dar la porte aui |
donnoit |
|
|
|
wind
blew over it continually. The other door |
|
opened
on a lake at the extreme end of which a |
black
marble fa9ade could be seen. |
|
I
approached the altar and took into my hands |
some
of the white and shining salt which the sages |
call |
|
and
mbbed my entire body with it. I impregnated |
myself
with it, and after having read the |
hieroglyphics
accompanying the picture I prepared |
to
leave this hall. My first intention was to leave |
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|
p.
64 |
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|
sur
la plaine, mais une vapeur brulante s'en |
exalloit,
je preferai le chemin oppose, j'avois la |
Uberte
de choisir, avec la condition cependant de |
ne
pas quitter celui que j'aurois pris . . . Je me |
decidai
a passer le lac, ses eaux etoient sombres et |
dormantes,
j'appercevois bien a une certaine |
distance
un pont nomme |
|
mais
je preferai traverser le lac a la longue route |
que
j'aurois ete oblige de faire pour atteindre le |
pont,
en suivant les sinuosites d'un rivage seme de |
rochers.
j'entrai dans I'eau, elle etoit epaisse |
comme
du ciment, je m'apper^us qu'il m'etoit |
inutile
de nager, par tout mes pieds rencontrerent le |
sol.
Je marchai dans le lac pendant treize jours. |
Eniin
je parvins a I'autre bord. |
|
|
|
by
the door opening upon the plain, but there |
issued
therefrom a hot vapor and I preferred the |
opposite
path. I had the freedom of choice with the |
condition,
however, not to leave the one once |
chosen.
. . I decided to cross the lake; its waters |
were
sombre and sleeping. At a certain distance I |
clearly
noticed a bridge called |
|
To
reach it I would have been obliged to follow the |
windings
of a shore covered with rocks, and I |
preferred
to cross the lake. I entered the water |
which
was as thick as cement. I noticed that it was |
useless
for me to swim since my feet touched |
bottom
everywhere. I walked in the lake for |
thirteen
days. At last I came to the other shore. |
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|
p.
65 |
|
SECTION
NINE |
|
|
|
LA
terre etoit d'une couleur foncee comme I'eau |
dans
la qu'elle j'avois voyage, une pente insensible |
me
conduisit au pied de I'edifice que j'avois |
apper9u
de loin, sa forme etoit un quarre long, sur |
le
fronton etoient graves quelques caracteres, |
semblables
a ceux qu'employaient les Pretres des |
anciens
Persans. I'edifice entier etoit batide Basalte |
noir
depoU: les portes etoient de bois de cipres; |
EUes
s'ouvrirent pour me laisser passer; un vent |
chaud
et humide s'elevant tout a coup me poussa |
rapidement
jusqu'au milieu de la salle et en meme |
temps
referma les portes sur moi . . . Je me trouvai |
dans
I'obscurite, peu a peu mes yeux |
s'accoutumerent
au peu de lumiere qui regnoit |
dans
cette enceinte, et je pus distinguer les objets |
qui
m'entouraient. la voute, les parois, le plancher |
de la
salle etoient noirs comme I'ebene, deux |
tableaux
peints sur la muraille fixerent mon |
attention
I'un representoit un cheval tel que les |
poetes
nous peignent celui qui causa la mine de |
Troie.
De ses flancs entreuverts sortoit un cadavre |
humain.
L'autre peinture offroit I'image d'un |
homme
mort depuis longtems, les vils insectes |
enfans
de la putrefaction. |
|
|
|
THE
earth was as dark as the water through which |
I had
come. A hardly perceptible slope led me to |
the
base of the building which I had seen from afar. |
On
its long square front several characters were |
engraved
like those used by the priests of ancient |
Persia.
The entire building was made of rough |
black
basalt; the doors, of cypress wood, opened to |
let
me pass. A warm, moist wind arose suddenly |
and
pushed me rapidly to the middle of the |
chamber
at the same time closing the doors upon |
me
... I was in darkness, but gradually my eyes |
grew
accustomed to the meager Ught which |
reigned
in this enclosure and I was able to discern |
the
surrounding objects. The vaulting, the walls |
and
the floor of the chamber were as black as |
ebony.
Two mural paintings arrested my attention; |
one
represented a horse such as our poets describe |
as
having caused the downfall of Troy. From its |
gaping
flanks a human corpse protruded. The other |
image
showed a man long dead. Vile insects bred |
by
putrefaction swarmed over his face and |
devoured
the substance which had given them |
birth.
One of the arms of the dead man, stripped of |
its
flesh, already showed |
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|
p.
66 |
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|
|
p.
67 |
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|
|
s'agittaient
sur son visage et devoraient la |
substance
qui les avoit fait naitre, un des bras |
dechames
de la figure morte, loissoit deja |
aper§evoir
les os; place pres du cadavre, un homme |
vetu
de rouge s'effer§oit de le relever, une etoille |
brUloit
. . . sur son front, des brodequins noirs |
couvroient
ses jambes, trois lames noires chargees |
de
caracteres d'argent etoient posees au dessus, |
entre
et au dessous des tableaux. Je les lus, et |
m'occupai
a parcourir la salle oil je devois passer |
neuf
jours. |
|
|
|
the
bones. A man, dressed in red, standing by the |
corpse,
endeavoured to lift it. A star shone on his |
forehead;
his legs were enclosed in black buskins. |
Above,
between and below the picture were three |
black
panels bearing silver characters. I read them |
and
then occupied the time by making the rounds |
of
the hall where I was to spend nine days. |
|
In a
dark corner I found a pile of black earth which |
was
fat and saturated with animal particles. I was |
about
to take some of it when a thundering voice, |
like
the sound of a trumpet, forbade me to do so. |
|
|
|
Dans
un coin plus obscur se trouvoit un mon9eau |
de
terre noire, grasse et saturee de particules |
animales,
je voulus en prendre, une voix eclatante |
comme
le son d'une trompette me le defendit, il |
n'ya
que quatre vingt sept ans que cette terre est |
posee
dans cette salle me dit-elle . . . quand treize |
autres
annees seront ecoulees, toi et les autres |
enfans
de Dieu pourront en user. La voix se tut |
mais
les demiers sons vibrerent long temps dans ce |
temple
du silence et de la mort. Apres y etre reste |
le
temps prescrit je sortis par la porte opposee a |
celle
par la qu'elle j'etois entre. Je revis la lumiere, |
mais
elle n'etoit pas assez vive autour de la salle |
noire,
pour fatiguer mes yeux habitues a |
I'obscurite. |
|
Je
vis avec etonnement qu'il me falboit pour |
joindre
les autres edifices traverser un lac plus |
large
que le premier, je marchai dans I'eau pendant |
dix
huit jours. Je me souvins que dans la premiere |
traversee
les eaux du lac devenoient plus noires et |
plus
epaisses a mesure que j avangois, au contraire |
dans
celle ici plus j'approchais de la rive, et plus |
les
eaux s'eclaircissoient. Ma robe qui dans le |
palais
etoit devenue |
|
|
|
saying:
"This earth has lain in this hall only eighty- |
seven
years; when thirteen more years have |
elapsed,
thou and the other children of God may |
use
it." The voice fell silent, but its last ringing |
sounds
continued to vibrate a long time in that |
temple
of silence and death. After remaining in it |
the
time prescribed, I departed by the door opposite |
to
the one through which I had entered. I again saw |
the
Ught, but it was not so strong around the black |
hall
as to tire my eyes habituated to darkness. |
|
I saw
with surprise that in order to reach the other |
buildings
I should have to cross a wider lake than |
the
first one. For eighteen days I walked in the |
water.
I recalled that when crossing the first lake |
its
waters became darker and thicker as I advanced. |
The
waters of this lake, on the contrary, became |
ever
clearer the closer I approached the shore. My |
robe,
which had in the palace become as black as |
the
walls, seemed |
|
|
|
p.
68 |
|
|
|
noire
comme les murailles me parut alors d'une |
teinte
grisatre, elle reprit peu a peu ses couleurs, |
cependant
elle n'etoit pas entierement bleue, mais |
approchant
d'un beau verd. |
|
Apres
dix huit jours je montai sur le rivage par un |
perron
de marbre blanc; la salle est nommee |
|
|
|
le
premier lac |
|
|
|
to me
to be of a grayish hue; gradually it resumed |
its
colours; however, it did not become entirely |
blue
but was nearer to a beautifiil green. |
|
After
eighteen days I ascended the embankment by |
means
of a white marble platform. The name of the |
hall
is |
|
|
|
the
first lake |
|
|
|
le
second the second |
|
nnnM
ins nnn^ |
|
|
|
p.
69 |
|
SECTION
TEN |
|
|
|
AQUEL
que distance du rivage un palais |
somptueux
elevoit dans les airs ses colonnes |
d'albatre,
ses differentes parties etoient jointes par |
des
portiques couleur de feu, tous I'edifice etoit |
d'une
architecture legere et aerienne. Je |
m'approchai
des portes, sur le fronton etait |
represente
un papillon. Les portes etoient ouvertes. |
J'entrai,
le palais entier ne formait qu'une seule |
saUe
. . . trois rangs de colonnes I'entouraient, |
chaque
rang etait compose de vingt sept colonnes |
d'albatre.
Au centre de I'edifice etait une figure |
d'homme,
elle sortait d'un tombeau sa main |
appuyee
sur une lance frappait le pierre qui la |
renfermait
autrefois, une draperie verte, ceignit ses |
reins
I'or brillait au bas de son vetement sur sa |
poitrine
etait une table quarree, sur laquelle je |
distinguai
quelques lettres. Au dessus de la figure |
etait
suspendue une couronne d'or, elle semblait |
s'elever
dans les airs pour la saisir. Au dessus de la |
couronne
etoit une table de pierre jaune, sur la |
qu'elle
etoient graves quelques emblemes, je les |
expUquai
par le secours de I'inscription que |
j'appergus
sur le tombeau, et par ceUe que j'avais |
vue
sur la poitrine de I'homme. |
|
|
|
AT
some distance from the shore a sumptuous |
palace
raised aloft its alabaster columns; its |
different
parts were joined by porticos of flame |
colour.
The entire edifice was of light and airy |
architecture.
As I approached the portals, I saw that |
the
front was decorated with the figure of a |
butterfly.
The doors stood open ... I entered. The |
entire
palace consisted of a single hall . . . |
surrounded
by a triple colonnade, each rank |
composed
of twenty-seven alabaster columns. In |
the
middle of the building stood the figure of a |
man
issuing from a tomb; his hand, holding up a |
lance,
struck the stone which previously confined |
him.
His loins were girt about with a green |
garment;
gold gleamed from its hem. On his breast |
was a
square tablet bearing several letters. Above |
this
figure hung a golden crown and the figure |
seemed
to lift itself into the air in order to seize the |
crown.
Above it was a yellow stone tablet bearing |
several
emblems which I explained by means of |
the
inscription I saw on the tomb and by the one I |
had
seen on the breast of the man. |
|
|
|
p.
70 |
|
|
|
p.
71 |
|
Je
restai dans cette salle appellee |
|
le
temps necessaire pour en contempler tous les |
detours
et j'en sortis bientot dans I'intention de me |
rendre
a travers une vaste plaine a une tour que j |
apper9us
a une assez grande distance. |
|
|
|
I
stayed in that hall which is called |
|
the
time need&l for contemplating all its aisles, |
and
soon I left it with the intention of crossing a |
vast
plain in order to reach a tower that I had |
perceived
at quite some distance. |
|
|
|
|
p.
73 |
|
|
|
SECTION
ELEVEN |
|
|
|
APEINE
j ' avois quitte les marches du palais, que NO sooner had I quitted the steps
of the palace |
j'apper9us
voltiger devant moi un oiseau semblable when I saw fluttering in front of me
a bird similar |
a
to |
|
|
|
mais
celui ci avoit deux ailes de papillon outre les this one, however, having two
wings like a |
siennes,
une voix sortant d'un nuage m'ordonna de butterfly's besides its own. A voice
issuing from a |
le
saisir et de I'attacher. Je m'elangai apres lui, il cloud commanded me to
seize and to affix it and I |
|
|
|
ne
voloit pas mais il se servoit de ses ailes pour |
courir
avec la plus grande rapidite, je le poursuivis, |
il
fiiyoit devant moi et me fit plusieurs fois |
parcouiir
la plaine dans toute son etendue, Je le |
suivis
sans m'arreter, enfin apres neuf jours de |
course
je le contraignis d'entrer dans la tour que |
j'avois
vu de loin en sortant de |
|
|
|
darted
forth after it. It did not fly but used its wings |
in
order to run with the greatest rapidity. I pursued |
it;
it fled before me and made me cover the entire |
plain
several times. I followed it without pause. |
Finally,
after pursuing it for nine days, I forced it |
to
enter the tower which I had seen in the distance |
as I
was leaving |
|
|
|
|
|
les
murailles de cet edifice etoit de fer . . . trente |
six
pilUers de meme metal les soutenoit I'interieur |
etoit
de meme matiere, incruste d'acier brillant. |
Les
fondemens de la tour etoient construits de telle |
maniere
que sa hauteur etoit doublee sous terre. a |
peine
I'oiseau fut il entre dans cette enceinte qu'un |
fi-oid
glacial sembla s'emparer de lui il fit de vains |
efforts
pour mouvoir ses ailes |
|
|
|
The
walls of this edifice were of iron. Thirty-six |
columns
of the same metal supported it. The |
interior
was of the same material, incmsted with |
shining
steel. The foundations of the tower were so |
constructed
as to be twice as deep in the earth as |
they
were high above ground. The bird had barely |
entered
this enclosure when an icy cold seemed to |
overcome
it. In vain it |
|
|
|
p.
74 |
|
|
|
engourdies.
II s'agittoit encore, essayait de fiiir, |
mais
si foiblement que je I'atteignis avec la plus |
grande
facihte. |
|
|
|
tried
to move its numbed wings. It still fiuttered, |
trying
to flee, but so feebly that I reached it with |
the
greatest ease. |
|
|
|
Je le
saisis, et lui passant un clou d'acier |
|
|
|
I
seized the bird, and driving a steel nail |
|
|
|
|
a
travers les ailes je I'attachai sur le plancher de la through its wings, I
affixed it to the floor of the |
tour,
a I'aide d'un marteau appelle tower with the aid of a hammer called |
|
|
|
I |
|
|
|
a
peine avois-je fini que I'oiseau reprit de |
nouvelles
forces, il ne s'agitta plus, mais ses yeux |
devinrent
brillants comme des topazes j 'etois |
occupe
a I'examiner quand un grouppe place au |
centre
de la salle attira mon attention, il |
representoit
un bel homme dans la fleur de rage il |
tenoit
a la main une verge qu'entouraient deux |
serpens
entrelaces, et s'efforgait de s'ech^per des |
|
|
|
Hardly
had I finished when the bird acquired new |
strength.
It did not move, however, but its eyes |
began
to shine hke topaz. I was gazing at it when |
my
attention was attracted by a group in the center |
of
the hall. It showed a handsome man in the prime |
of
life. In his hand he held a staff about which two |
serpents
weie interlaced. The young man was |
striving
to escape a larger and moie powerful man |
|
|
|
mains
d'un autre homme grand et vigoureux, arme |
d'une
ceinture et d'un casque de fer sur le qu'el |
flottoit
une aigrette rouge; une epee etoit pres de |
lui
elle etoit appuyee sur un bouclier charge |
d'hieroglyphes;
I'homme arme tenoit dans ses |
mains
une forte chaine il en lioit les pieds et le |
corps
de I'adolescent qui cherchoit vainement a |
fair
son terrible adversaire; deux tables rouges |
renfermaient
des caracteres. |
|
Je
quittai, la tour et ouvrant une porte qui se |
trouvoit
entre deux pillers je me trouvai dans une |
vaste
salle. |
|
|
|
who
wore a girdle and a helmet of iron surmounted |
by
waving red plumes. Near him a sword lay on a |
buckler
covered with hieroglyphs. The armed man |
held
in his hand a heavy chain with which he |
shackled
the feet and body of the youth who tried |
in
vain to flee from his terrible adversary. Two red |
tablets
bore certain characters. |
|
I
departed from the tower, and opening a door |
between
two pillars I found myself in a vast hall. |
|
|
|
p.
75 |
|
SECTION
TWELVE |
|
|
|
LA
SALLE dans la qu'elle je venois d'entrer etoit |
exactement
ronde, elle ressembloit a I'interieur |
d'une
boule, composee d'une matiere dure et |
diaphane
comme le cristal — elle re9evoit du jour |
par
toutes ses parties. La partie inferieure etoit |
posee
sur un vaste bassin rempli de sable rouge, |
une
chaleur douce et egale regnoit dans cette |
enceinte
circulaire. Les sages nomment cette salle |
|
le
bassin de sable qui la soutient porte le nom de |
|
je
considerois avec etonnement ce globe de cristal |
quand
un phenomene nouveau exita mon |
admiration:
du plancher de la salle s'eleva une |
vapeur
douce, moite et safranee elle m'environna, |
me
souleva doucement et dans I'espace de trente |
six
jours me porta jusqu'a la partie superieure du |
globe,
apres ce temps la vapeur s'affaiblit je |
descendis
peu a peu enfin je me retrouvai sur le |
plancher.
ma robe changea de couleur, elle etoit |
verte
lorsque j'entrai dans la salle, elle devint alors |
d'une
couleur rouge eclatante. Par un effet |
contraire
le sable sur lequel |
|
|
|
THE
hall into which I had just entered was |
perfectly
round; it resembled the interior of a globe |
composed
of hard and transparent matter, as |
crystal,
so that the light entered from all sides. Its |
lower
part rested upon a vast basin filled with red |
sand.
A gentle and equable warmth reigned in this |
circular
enclosure. The sages call this hall |
|
The
basin of sand sustaining it is called |
|
With
astonishment I gazed around this crystal |
globe
when a new phenomenon excited my |
admiration.
From the floor of the hall ascended a |
gentle
vapor, moist and saffron yellow. It |
enveloped
me, raised me gently and within thirty- |
six
days bore me up to the upper part of the globe. |
Thereafter
the vapor thinned; little by little I |
descended
and finally found myself again on the |
floor.
My robe had changed its colour. It had been |
green
when I entered the hall, but now changed to |
a
brilliant red. A contrary effect had taken place in |
the
sand on which the globe rested. Gradually |
|
|
|
p.
76 |
|
|
|
|
p.
77 |
|
|
|
reposait
le globe, quitta sa couleur rouge et devint |
noir
par degres je demeurai encore trois jours dans |
la
salle apres la fin de mon ascension. |
|
Apres
ce temps j 'en sortis pour entrer dans une |
vaste
place environnee de colonnades et de |
portiques
dores au milieu de la place etoit un pied |
d'estal
de bronze, il supportoit un grouppe qui |
presentoit
I'image d'un homme grand et fort, sa |
tete
majestueuse etoit couverte d'un casque |
couronne;
a travers les mailles de son armure d'or, |
sortoit
un vetement bleu; il tenoit d'une main un |
baton
blanc, charge de caracteres, et tendoit I'autre |
|
|
|
its
red colour had been transformed into black. |
After
finishing my ascent I remained three more |
days
in that hall. |
|
After
that time I left it in order to enter a large |
place
surrounded by colonades and guilded |
porticos
. In the center of the place stood a bronze |
pedestal
supporting a group representing a large |
strong
man whose majestic head was covered with |
a
crowned helmet. A blue garment protruded |
through
the meshes of his golden armour. In one |
hand
he held a white staff bearing certain |
characters,
the other hand he extended toward a |
|
|
|
a une
belle femme; aucun vetement ne couvroit sa |
compagne,
un soleil brilloit sur son sein, sa main |
droite
supportoit trois globes joints par des |
anneaux
d'or; une couronne de fleurs rouges |
ceignoit
ses beaux cheveux, elle s'elan9oit dans les |
airs
et sembloit y elever avec elle le guerrier qui |
I'accompagnoit;
tous les deux etoientportes sur |
des
nuages autourde groupe, sur les chapiteaux de |
quatre
colonnes de marbre blanc, etoient posees |
quatre
statues de bronze; elles avoient des ailes et |
paroissaient
sonner de la trompette. |
|
Je
traversal la place, et montant un perron de |
marbre
qui se trouvoit devant moi, je vis avec |
etonnement
que je rentrois dans la salle des |
thrones,
(la premiere ovi je m'etois trouve en |
arrivant
au palais de la sagesse) I'autel triangulaire |
etoit
toujours au centre de cette salle mais I'oiseau, |
I'autel
et le flambeau etoient reunis et ne formoient |
plus
qu'un corps. Pres deux etoit pose un soleil |
d'or,
lepee que j'avois apporte de la salle de feu, |
reposoit
a quel que pas de la sur le coussin d'un |
des
thrones; |
|
|
|
p.
78 |
|
je
prie I'epee et frappant le soleil je le reduisis en |
poussiere,
je le touchai ensuite et chaque molecule |
devint
un soleil d'or semblable a celui que j'avois |
brise.
I'oeuvre est parfait s'ecria a I'instant une |
voix
forte et melodieuse, a ce cri les enfans de la |
lumiere
s 'empresserent de venir me joindre, les |
portes
de I'immortalite me furent ouvertes, le |
nuage
qui couvre les yeux des mortels, se dissipa, |
JE
VIS et les esprits qui president aux elemens, me |
reconnurent
pour leur maitre. |
|
FIN |
|
|
|
beautifiil
woman. His companion wore no |
garment,but
a sun radiated from her breast. Her |
right
hand held three globes joined by golden |
rings;
a coronet of red flowers confined her |
beautifiil
hair. She sprang into the air and seemed |
to
lift with her the warrior who accompanied her; |
both
were home up by the clouds about the group. |
On
the capitals of four white marble columns were |
set
four bronze statues; they had wings and |
appeared
to sound trumpets. |
|
I
crossed the place, and mounting on a marble |
platform
which was before me, I noticed with |
astonishment
that I had re-entered the hall of |
Thrones
(the first in which I had found myself |
when
entering the Palace of Wisdom). The |
triangular
altar was still in the center of this hall |
but
the bird, the altar and the torch were joined and |
formed
a single body. Near them was a golden sun. |
The
sword which I had brought fi-om the hall of |
fire
lay a few paces distant on the cushion of one of |
the |
|
|
|
thrones;
I took up the sword and struck the sun, |
reducing
it to dust. I then touched it and each |
molecule
became a golden sun like the one I had |
broken.
At that instant a loud and melodious voice |
exclaimed,
"The work is perfect!" Hearing this, the |
children
of light hastened to join me, the doors of |
immortality
were opened to me, and the cloud |
which
covers the eyes of mortals, was dissipated. I |
SAW
and the spirits which preside over the |
elements
knew me for their master. |
|
FINIS |
|
|
|
p.
79 |
|
|
|
|
i. |
|
• «
4 |
|
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|
Click
to enlarge |
|
|
|
|
p.
85 |
|
p.
84 |
|
|
|
p. 86
p. 87 |
|
|
|
NOTES
AND COMMENTARIES |
|
NrriATION
into the Mysteries was defined by the |
ancient
philosophers as fife's supreme adventure and as |
the
greatest good that can be conferred upon the human |
soul
during its terrestrial sojourn. Plato, in the |
Phaedms,
writes thus of the supreme importance of |
acceptance
into the sacred Rites: "Likewise, in |
consequence
of this divine initiation, we become |
spectators
of entire, simple, immovable and blessed |
visions
in a pure light; and were, ourselves, pure and |
immaculate
and liberated from this surrounding |
vestment
which we denominated body, and to which we |
are
now bound as an oyster to its shell.' |
|
St.
Paul also refers to the "inner experience " by which |
we
come to KNOW. He says, "We speak of wisdom |
among
the perfect, not the wisdom of this world, nor of |
the
Archons (Rulers) of this world, but divine wisdom |
in a
mystery, secret, which none of the Archons of this |
world
know." An initiation is an extension of consciousness toward an
appreciation of universal |
realities.
The mystical ceremonials of the pagans and early Christians were but the
outward symbols of |
inward
processes. By obscure rites and pageantries the precious arcana of perfection
was transmitted |
Irom
age to age. The profane were satisfied by the solemnity of the outward forms
and rituals, but the |
Adepts,
those who had received the keys, applied the wisdom which was locked within
the allegories to |
perfecting
their internal spiritual faculties. Origen, the most mystical of the |
|
p.
88 |
|
anti-Nicean
fathers, in his preface to St. John, admits the twofold nature of all
theological revelations: |
"To
the literal minded [or exoterici] we teach the Gospel in the historic way,
preaching Jesus Christ and |
Him
crucified; but to the proficient, fired with the love of Divine Wisdom [the
esoterici] we impart the |
Logos
[the Word]. |
|
Perfection
is not bestowed: it is achieved. Men do not become wise merely through the
witnessing of |
sacred
dramas . . . rather, by the understanding of them. Symbolism is the language
of divine truths, a |
writing
by means of which may be intimated things which it is unlawful to actually
reveal. "For the |
mystic
symbols are well known to us who belong to the Brotherhood." (Plutarch).
By initiation the mle |
of
works is established. The divine man and the divine in man are brought to
completeness by works |
alone.
The adepts of the old schools were "wise Master Builders" with
vision to see, with courage to |
do,
and wisdom to remain silent. "There is a secrecy and silence observed in
all Mysteries," wrote |
TertuUian,
the creator of ecclesiastic Latinity. |
|
During
the ceremonials of initiation the neophyte was given the LAW. The great
verities by which the |
universe
moves towards its inevitable identity with God were revealed. It remained for
the Initiate to |
apply
this Law and through this application to achieve conscious immortality. There
is a forking of the |
ways
of knowledge at which practice diverges from theory. A man may either
ftilfill the Law and thus |
|
|
|
|
by
enlightened action come finally to perfection, or he may accept the word of
the Law and, ignoring |
the
spirit of it, remain as he is . . . imperfect and unenlightened. He who
receives the LOGOS and |
abides
in the spirit thereof gradually increases in wisdom. The Nazarean theurgists
said of such a one |
that
"he had an oath." He was dedicated to the release of his inner part
from the domination of his outer |
senses
and appetites. Says Aretaeus, "Until the soul is set free it works
within the body and is obscured |
by
vapors and clay." By vapors is arcanely signified the appetites and
excesses of the emotions which |
are
as substanceless as a mist, and by the clay is meant the unresponsiveness of
the corporeal form. |
|
To
increase in wisdom is to increase in enlightenment, for by enlightenment is
inferred the illumining |
of the
inner recesses of the reason by the light of the Logos — the spiritual sun.
This development of the |
ability
to know by philosophic discipline is accompanied by extensions of realization
and appreciation. |
These
extensions are the true growth of the soul which increases towards
inclusiveness. Hence, in the |
sacred
writings, this expansion of the soul's sphere of action is called initiation.
By initiation the |
indwelling
divinity verges towards its own cause, the eternal Good. The chambers of |
|
p.
89 |
|
initiation
are the "many mansions" through which the indwelling divinity must
pass as through the |
tortuous
windings of the Cretan labyrinth. Along its course are many doors, through
each of which it is |
ushered
into a larger and more luminous area of function and action. With each
increase of our ability |
to
appreciate the magnitudes of the divine plan, we are said to be reborn.
Rebirth is the passing out |
fi'om
an old condition into a new state, from an old limitation to a new extension.
As we grow in |
knowledge,
our universe seems to enlarge with us, taking on the measure of our new
constitution. |
Wisdom
releases. |
|
The
academies of the old Mysteries invited the wisest and best of humanity to
depart from the mortal |
shadow
of worldhness and devote itself to those labors which are truly eternal. The
perfection of Self is |
the
Great Work, the beginning and end of wisdom: the perfected Self is the
perfect offering and the |
consummation
of the Great Work. He who is perfect is of the greatest use to others, the
greatest good to |
himself
and the most acceptable offering to the Most High. |
|
With
the collapse of the old pagan world and the corruption of the early Christian
Church, the |
Mysteries
ceased as great institutions. Their doctrines were lost, their priestcrafts
were scattered, and |
their
temples fell to ruin. New theories, for the most part superficial and
insufficient, took the place of |
the
earlier wisdom; and education, divorced from its spiritual part, laid the
foundation for our present |
chaos.
But the wise remained true to the ancient Rites. Those who had received the
arcana could not, |
did
not, forget. They gathered in secret, taught in secret and worshipped in
secret. The temple fire |
burned
in the hearts of its initiates. The outer forms crumbled away; but the inner
spirit, strengthened |
by
its participation in an everlasting truth, was immortal. Out of the darkness
of a degenerate |
civilization,
across the desert of sterile centuries, and finally through the Red Sea of
the Inquisition the |
Mystics
of the ancient wisdom carried triumphantly the Ark of their covenant. |
|
The
so-called Middle Ages were an era of fantastic symbofism. The Hermetists
devised composite |
monsters
borrowed from the gods of Egypt; the Cabbalists illuminated vellum with
curious figures, |
seals,
pentacles, and grotesque signatures of demons; the alchemists filled huge
volumes with weird |
formulas
telling of the mystic properties of toads and dragon's blood. In the dark
field of medieval |
superstition
there also grew and blossomed the Mystic Rose, to be finally choked out by
the weeds of |
bigotry.
These were strange centuries when false faith had put wisdom to hazard. Yet
who dares to |
deny
that the mystical traditions endured, and, clothed |
|
|
|
p.
90 |
|
in the
terms of Egyptian myths and chemistry, were still available to such as had
eyes to perceive the |
tortured
truth? |
|
Against
the background of dogmatic ignorance and purposeless pedantry stands out
sharply and clearly |
the
luminous personality of the Comte de St. -Germain. Master of the old wisdom,
wise in forgotten |
truths,
proficient in all the curious arts of antiquity, leamed beyond any other man
of the modem world, |
the
mysterious Comte personified in his own incredible achievements the
metaphysical traditions of |
fifty
centuries. A thousand times the questions have been asked: where did
St.-Germain secure his |
astonishing
knowledge of natural law? How did he perpetuate himself from century to
century, defying |
the
natural corruption which brings prince, priest, and pauper alike to a common
end? St.-Germain was |
the
mouthpiece and representative of the brotherhood of philosophers which had
descended in an |
unbroken
line from the hierophants of Greece and Egypt. He had received the Logos. By
his wisdom he |
confounded
the elders. The Ufe of this one man puts to naught the scholastic smugness of
two thousand |
years. |
|
La
Tres Sainte Trinosophie is supremely significant in that it sets forth the
spiritual processes which |
finally
result in adeptship. It is the diary of the soul's coming of age. It may well
be the actual record of |
St.-Germain
's own acceptance into the mystical brotherhood of which he finally became
the Grand |
Master.
As the purpose of the manuscript was the instruction of disciples already
familiar with the |
secret
terminology, the whole account is set forth symbolically in fragments of
ritual and allegory |
derived
from the ceremonials of the classical era. Though the first reading may serve
only to perplex, a |
deep
and careful analysis of the text will gradually enlighten. Each will discover
in the writing that |
which
he himself knows, he will interpret it according to that which he himself is,
and he will apply it |
according
to that which he himself desires. Symbols are all things to all men, yet
beneath the wide |
diversity
of interpretations of which they are susceptible is a wisdom simple and
inevitable which can |
be
comprehended only by the truly wise. Opinions, theories, and beliefs fall
away; at the root of every |
emblem
is a fact. Our manuscript is rich in these veiled facts and we are reminded
by the author that no |
part
of it is without hidden significance. |
|
La
Tres Sainte Trinosophie is divided into twelve sections. Each is illuminated
by an appropriate |
design.
The early sections seem to derive their inspiration from the neo-Egyptian
ritual called the Rite |
of
Memphis, and the trials of the candidate are concerned directly with the four
elements — earth, water, |
fire,
and air. The grand |
|
p.
91 |
|
pattern
for the whole document is the Zodiac, to the signs of which the twelve
sections of the writing |
are
related. The Zodiac is the great soul cycle and the sun's passage through the
zodiacal symbols is the |
original
from which the ancient priestcrafts derived the authority for their sacred
circumambulations. |
The
ancients accepted the first sign of the zodiac as the beginning and the last
sign as the end of all |
mundane
activity. Similarly, Aries typified the beginning of regeneration or the
entrance of the soul |
into
light at the vemal equinox of the philosophic cycle, while Pisces signified
the completion of the |
sacred
pilgrimage and the accomplishment of the Magnum Opus. |
|
St.-Germain
chiefly employs alchemical symbols in this book of The Threefold Wisdom. This
in no |
way
infers that he is actually writing of chemical processes, for, as most of the
great alchemists have |
agreed,
the manufacturing of material gold is the least part of their science. That
St.-Germain' s |
|
|
|
meaning
may be clear and the correlations between the zodiacal signs and the
alchemical processes |
become
evident, the following table will prove usefiil: |
|
|
|
Aries |
|
|
|
Calcination |
|
|
|
Taums
Congelation |
|
Gemini
Fixation |
|
Cancer
Dissolution |
|
Leo
Digestion |
|
Virgo
Distillation |
|
Libra
Sublimation |
|
p.
92 |
|
Scorpio
Separation or |
Putrefaction |
|
Sagittarius
Incineration |
|
Capricorn
Fermentation |
|
Aquarius
Multiplication |
|
Pisces
Projection |
|
|
|
Expulsion
of the animal soul through heat. (Purification by the fire of |
aspiration.) |
|
The
union of parts; the achievement of one-pointedness or purpose. |
|
The
condition of becoming firm, the fixing of the will. |
|
To
dissolve or to suspend in a fluid state; the universalizing of the |
personality. |
|
To
soften by heat and moisture; to perfect the mind in wisdom (heat) |
and
imagination (humidity). |
|
The
separation of the volatile principle from substance; the release of |
the
soul from its involvement in bodily limitation. |
|
The
refining of elemental bodies; the increasing of the vibratory |
harmonies
of the body. |
|
The
philosophic death; an artificial decay by which the spiritual and |
material
elements are separated from each other. |
|
The
buming away of dross; the soul fire comsumes the external body. |
|
The
conversion of organic susbtance into new compounds by a |
ferment;
the building of the Golden Man. |
|
The
process of increasing; adeptship. |
|
The
process of transmuting base substance into Gold; the perfection of |
the
Work; immortality; in the eastern tradition, Buddhahood. |
|
|
|
The
arrangement of these symbols and processes differs in minor degree among the
various writers, but |
the
principle is always the same — the tran mutation of the not-Self into the
Self; the tincturing of the |
outer
Ufe with the inner grace; the projection of soul upon its physical
environment; the sublimation of |
evil
into good; the multiplication of beauty, love, and truth until finally the
powder of projection |
(wisdom)
shall tincture the whole world. The alchemists tell us that a minute particle
of the "Red Lion" |
can
transmute into the purest gold a hundred thousand times its own weight.
Wisdom — and wisdom |
alone
— can accomplish this, for one wise man can perfect the ages, and a little
truth will in time so |
greatly
increase that the universe may not contain it. |
|
A
ritual not dissimilar to that contained in the present writing is set forth
in the Popul Vuh, the sacred |
book
of the Quichi Indians of Cential America. The neophyte, in his quest for
wisdom, passes in |
succession
through twelve tests: He crosses a river of blood (Aries) then a river of mud
(Taurus), he |
detects
a subterfuge (Gemini), he enters the house of darkness (Cancer), then the
house of spears (Leo), |
the
house of cold (Virgo), the house of tigers (Libra), the house of fire
(Scorpio), and the house of bats |
(Sagittarius)
where he dies (incineration). The picture at the head of the ninth section of
St.Germain's |
book
depicts death. The body of the Indian neophyte is bumed on a scaffold
(Capricorn), the ashes |
scattered
on the river (Aquarius), the ashes turn into a man-fish (Pisces), in which
form the initiate, |
who
has completed the cycle, destroys the evil genius who was his adversary
through the initiatory |
ritual.
The twelve |
|
|
|
p.
93 |
|
|
|
[paragraph
continues] Princes of Xibalba who are the Keepers of the Mysteries are of
course the zodiacal gods. |
|
As we
follow St.-Germain into the lava beds of Vesuvius we indeed "tread upon
the threshold of |
Persephone."
We follow him in his soul quest for truth. Now we read only the symbols and
we |
understand
only in part, but ultimately we must achieve as he achieved and face the
universal course |
with
the same high courage that pressed him on to mastership. His symbols are from
the Book of Life, |
and
although we do not see in daily incident and happening the tests of which he
writes, still each in his |
own
sphere of experience faces the same hazards herein defined. We wander in the
caverns of |
uncertainty;
the ghostly forms of doubt harass us; fear steals away our strength,
selfishness our vision, |
and
ignorance our courage. But we are all alchemists in the laboratory of life:
each is distilling the |
elixir
of experience. In due time each shall have accomplished the perfection of
this mysterious |
alchemical
fluid, and with it shall tincture his world and himself. Upon the base metals
of this present |
age he
shall sprinkle the magical powder which his soul has discovered; the ages of
Iron, of Silver, of |
Copper,
and of Lead shall vanish away, and the Golden Age of the philosophers shall
shine forth. |
|
INTERPRETATION
OF FIGURES AND TEXT |
|
SECTION
I. |
|
{Figure
I, page 34) The highly decorated title page of the manuscript is a valuable
key to the |
interpretation
of the entire work. De Givry describes the emblems thus: "This author's
symbohsm is |
Egyptianized
in the fashion of the day. On the title page of the work * * * we find * * *
the bird of |
Hermes,
a tree with golden fruit, and a vase in which the work is achieved, the
primitive material under |
the
form of a ball embraced by two wings, and a luminous triangle containing the
Divine Name." In |
another
place he adds: "The Hebrew name El is on the right with another divine
name lower down |
written
in Arabic; the letters AB near the latter are indicative of the alphabet and
represent the Word — |
The
Divine Word. On the left is a Hebrew inscription taken from the first verses
of the Book of |
Genesis:
'And the earth was without form, and void (HOhu-va-Bohu); and darkness was
upon the face |
of
the deep. And the Spirit of God (Ruach Elohim) moved upon the face of the
waters'." |
|
The
letters in the golden triangle do not form the sacred name Jehovah but, when
decoded, yield the |
cryptic
words: "Breathe after this One." That the "soul breath"
of the Cabbalists is to be inferred is |
evident
from the wings behind the hawk of Ra in the upper left comer. The second
square from the top |
at
the right is of especial Freemasonic interest. A candidate for initiation
into the Mysteries |
|
p.
94 |
|
Stands
in symbolic posture before an altar — with "one shoe off and one shoe
on." The Hebrew letters |
AL
{EL) in the small circle are one of the ten Cabbalistic names of God
signifying "God, the Creator," |
and
is associated with the Sephira Chesed or mercy. The letters AB are the
mystical signature of the |
writer
who was a "father" (abba) or master of the secret wisdom. The
letters are also an abbreviation for |
an
alchemical process. The Arabic "divine name" really consists of
Hebrew words written in Arabic |
characters
which read: "The Lord, the Most High, purifies." The Hebrew
inscription in the lower left |
comer,
while unquestionably the second verse of the first chapter of Genesis, does
not read as in the |
Authorized
Version. Characters have been changed and the sense altered to read in
substance: "And the |
earth
shall be a desolate waste. There shall be lamenting, and hate and
constemation shall be upon the |
Face.
And the Breath of El-him, because of the presence of the spirit, shall
destroy those that have |
departed
from God." |
|
|
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
|
|
In the
opening chapter of his manuscript, St. -Germain ingeniously depicts the
"relapsed" state of the |
human
soul. The dungeon of the Inquisition is the sphere of man's animal
consciousness. The physical |
world,
dominated by inquisitional impulses, constitutes the soul's torture chamber
and house of testing. |
To
the sage the material universe is the antechamber where gather those who are
awaiting acceptance |
into
the sacred rites. When the Comte speaks of "this place of exile"
and the "monarchs who rule" over |
it, he
refers to the illusionary universe and "the princes of this world."
Here is the Prometheus myth, the |
Titan
bound to Caucasus for indiscretion, and Lucifer chained in the bottomless pit
for pride. |
|
Throughout
the early pages is traceable the allegory of the Prodigal Son. First is
depicted humanity's |
heroic
state during the Golden Age before sin and death came into the world. St.
-Germain describes |
himself
as "showered with the blessings of heaven and surrounded by power such
as the human mind |
cannot
conceive." The Comte then writes that "one moment destroyed
everything." The mystery of the |
Fall
of Man has never been revealed to the profane. The great cyclic law which
swept the hosts of fiery |
Sparks
into the abyss is known only to the elect. In the darkness of chaos the rebel
spirits established |
their
world. They built the cosmos and were locked within each of the material
elements which they |
had
willed into being. When the lower earth had been completed, the great Father
desired to draw back |
into
Himself His prodigal creation. To accomplish this He caused to issue from His
own being His |
WORD
— the Sotar or Messiah. Descending from the Abode of Light this heavenly
Archon diminished |
its
splendor, and investing its glory in the dark robes of earth, took upon
Itself the cross of the cycles. |
|
To
the Gnostics, the physical universe was compounded of the dregs of spirit. It
was the abortion of |
space.
Material existence was nature's punishment for the rebellion of the angels.
This was clearly set |
forth
in the initiatory rituals which taught that men were reborn in earthly bodies
as punishment for sin. |
Those
who perfected themselves were bom no more, but, like Buddha at the Great
Release, passed on |
to
the Nirvana of the wise — a birthless, deathless state. From the dun, |
|
p.
95 |
|
geons
of materiahty the sages released themselves through the practice of their
esoteric rites. Perfected |
in
wisdom, these Initiates broke through the adamantine wall of the mortal
sphere and emerged into the |
UghtofGod. |
|
The
alchemical interpretation relates to the elementary spirits locked within the
physical forms of the |
elements.
It should be noted that in his procedure through the initiatory trials, St.
-Germain identifies |
himself
with the substance from which the Philosopher's Stone is to be formed. He is
the alchemical |
matter
itself passing through twelve cycles of refinement. It thus becomes evident
that the alchemists |
recognized
that their Great Work consisted of the transmutation of themselves. The earth
(the dungeon) |
is
filled with the seed souls of precious metals; here they are locked awaiting
Art and Wisdom. As gold |
exists
within every grain of sand but is incapable of manifesting itself unless
stimulated by alchemical |
processes,
so the seeds of truth, beauty, and knowledge exist within the dark earth of
man's animal |
organism.
The growth and perfection of these precious virtues is stimulated by
discipline and in the |
fiiUness
of time all base impulses and purposes are transmuted into the gold of soul
power. |
|
SECTION
II. |
|
(Figure
II, page 40) In his notes on the Trinosophia, de Givry concerns himself
solely with the |
alchemical
import of the symbohsm of this figure. He says of the second plate that it
"represents a man |
|
|
|
gazing
into a prophetic cup foming a magic mirror. The conjoined signs of the Sun
and the Moon are |
seen
against the pedestal of the table; at the top of the figure a super-position
of differently colored |
rectangles
indicates the phases of the Work; and the double sign of the lingam in a
circle |
emblematically
recalls the Hermetic male and female. An inscription in Greek letters and
made-up |
characters
gives a formula for the composition of Gold, or the Sun-King, by means of a
mixture of gold |
and
silver regenerated by vital mercury; linked to the blue rectangle giving this
formula is a lower red |
rectangle
inscribed with the rule for the furnace fire in Hebrew characters." |
|
A
careful analysis inclines us to suspect a more profound significance. The
circle at the upper right, |
though
possibly phallic in its superficial sense, is actually an occult monogram or
seal containing two |
Greek
letters. Translated these signify "the Light of God" or "the
Light of Revelation." The rectangles |
at
the upper left are the elements. The arrangement is Oriental. The lower four
are crowned by the |
fifth
— the quintessence, the mysterious ^Ether of the sages. The inscription in
the upper panel describes |
the
quickening of the soul seed by the warmth of the eastern quarter. (Aries.)
There is also reference to |
the
Breath which moves in the vessel, or upon the waters. The number 62 appears,
accompanied by the |
admonition
to open the heavenly gate (clairvoyance) with the aid of the vessel or cup.
Does the cup |
(ark)
contain the Water of Lethe, by partaking of which souls descending into
generation lose all |
memory
of their heavenly origin? Or does it contain the Water of Mnemosyne which
flows at the |
gateway
of wisdom and of which |
|
p.
96 |
|
the
adepts drink, the water of remembrance by which the soul remembers its own
substance and origin? |
|
The
female figure is Isis in her role of Initiatrix. She is Nature, and her black
skirt is the corporeal |
world
by which part of her body is concealed. The naked man is the neophyte.
Unclothed he came into |
the
world and unclothed he must be bom again. Bereft of all adornment, stripped
of all insignia of rank |
and
power, he may bring to the temple nothing that he has — only that which he
is. |
|
The
table upheld by the Sun and Moon and at the base of which burns the
everlasting fire, is the world. |
The
objects lying upon it, or held by Isis, are three of the suit symbols which
appear upon Tarot cards. |
The
whole design, in fact, is not dissimilar to that major Tarot trump which is
called Le Bateleur, the |
Juggler.
The cup is the symbol of water, the spearhead of fire and the wand of air.
Fire, air, and water |
are
the symbols of the great Magical Agent. Their names in Hebrew are Chamah,
Ruach, and Majim, |
and by
the Cabbala the first letter of each of these words — Ch, R, and M —
constitute Chiram, known to |
Freemasons
as Hiram. This is the invisible essence which is the father of the four
elements, and |
designates
itself Chiram Telat Mechasot — Chiram the Universal Agent, one in essence,
three in aspect, |
in
which is hidden the wisdom of the whole world. |
|
The
Hebrew characters in the panel above the head of Isis are translated:
"On account of distress they |
shall
cling to the Bestower," which means that those (the wise) who have
become wearied with |
worldliness
shall tum to wisdom, the bestower of all good things. |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
The
account of the initiatory ritual now begins. The disciple has waited the
appointed time in the dark |
material
universe which is the womb of the Mysteries. The process of philosophical
birth proceeds |
according
to the ancient and immutable law. The neophyte, veiled and bearing the Golden
Bough (the |
mistletoe),
advances toward the iron altar. |
|
|
|
The
choice of Vesuvius as the scene for the initiation is exceedingly
appropriate. The vent of the |
volcano
leads downward into the subterranean strata of the earth where dwell the
subterranean deities |
who
must be first propitiated. The volcano is also the symbol of the alchemical
furnace. The veil |
signifies
that the neophyte has reached the state of the mystae — one who perceives
through a veil, or, in |
the
Christian Mysteries, "as through a glass darkly." Pliny refers to
the mistletoe as the "all-healer." It |
was
presumably the Golden Bough given to ^neas as a passport to the infernal
regions. Sir James |
Frazer
thus comments upon the initiatory ceremony as set forth by Virgil: |
|
"If
the mistletoe, as a yellow withered bough in the sad autumn woods, was
conceived to contain the |
seed
of fire, what better companion could a forlorn wanderer in the nether shades
take with him than a |
bough
that would be a lamp to his feet as well as a rod and stalf to his hands?
Armed with it he might |
boldly
confront |
|
p.
97 |
|
the
dreadfial spectres that would cross his path on his adventurous joumey. Hence
when ^neas, |
emerging
from the forest, comes to the banks of Styx, winding slow with sluggish
stream through the |
infemal
marsh, and the surly ferryman refuses him passage in his boat, he has but to
draw the Golden |
Bough
fi-om his bosom and hold it up, and straightway the blusterer quails at the
sight and meekly |
receives
the hero into his crazy bark, which sinks deep in the water under the unusual
weight of the |
living
man. " |
|
Mistletoe
is a parasite, and as such symbolizes the heavenly man within the mortal
body. The soul |
grows
from the body and in it, but is not of it, for as the tree takes its
nourishment from the earth even |
so the
body receives its sustenance from material sources; but the mistletoe derives
its vitality not from |
the
dark loam but from the tree and the air. The mistletoe is said to be luminous
in the darkness, and |
has
been called the wise man's torch. Its luminosity is the light of the internal
organs — the aura of the |
brain.
He who bears the branch announces his fitness to receive the initiation. |
|
The
neophyte lays the branch upon the iron altar; he gives himself to the law,
assuming the |
responsibilities
of spiritual progress. The sacred Word is spoken. The hallowed Bough bursts
into |
flame:
the sacrifice is accepted. The earth opens. Down through the Royal Arches as
into a great abyss |
passes
the candidate. The mists clear, revealing a vast cavem — the dark mother from
which all things |
must
come — similar in significance to Porphyry's cave of the nymphs. The long
white robe is the |
seamless
garment of the Nazarene woven fi-om the endless thread of experience. The
copper lamp is |
enlightened
love, without which no man may follow the narrow path of wisdom. Robed in
purity, |
illumined
with compassion and understanding, the neophyte follows the black vaulted
passage which |
leads
to immortafity. |
|
After
a great distance the passage ends in a square room from which lead four
doors. This is the Hall of |
Choosing.
The doors signify the courses which the soul can pursue. The black door is
the path of |
asceticism
and labor; the red door is that of faith; the blue door is that of
purification, and the white |
door
is that of adept-ship and of the highest Mysteries. In the Bhagavad-Gita,
Krishna describes these |
paths
and those who follow them, and reveals that the last is the highest and the
most perfect. |
|
The
neophyte enters through the black door of asceticism and labor and is about
to pass through the red |
door
of enlightened love when it closes upon him. He then turns to the door of
purification and |
sacrifice
but this will not receive him. Then the star, the symbol of his essential
dsemon or genius, darts |
through
the white door. Fate has decreed adeptship. The neophyte follows his
star. |
|
|
|
The
alchemical significance of the account reveals that at the beginning of the
Great Work the power of |
choice
is given to the operator, that he may decide the end to which his labor shall
be directed. The |
black
door represents the making of material gold; the red door the Universal
Medicine for the healing |
of
the nations; |
|
p.
98 |
|
the
blue door the EUxir of Life, and the white door the Philosopher's Stone. From
the door which is |
chosen
we discover that aspect of the Great Work which our author contemplates. |
|
SECTION
in. |
|
{Figure
III, page 44) Two lions, one red and the other black, guard the Crown. The
Crown is Kether, |
the
fountain of wisdom. The king of beasts symbolizes nobility and rulership. hi
ancient times, figures |
of
lions adorned the thrones of princes. These animals were also guardians of
gates, and in Egypt the |
Sphinx,
the man-headed lioness guarded the entrance to the House of the
Mysteries. |
|
The
inscription upon the flank of the lion is inverted. An inverted symbol
signifies a perverted power: |
thus,
nobility becomes tyranny and greatness leads to despotism. In the
introduction to his writing, St.- |
Germain
warns his disciples of two adversaries which the neophyte must overcome. One
he terms the |
misuse
of power and the other indiscretion. The black lion represents tyranny and
the red lion, lust. |
Those
who would accomplish wisdom must overcome these animals if they would reach
the Crown |
which
lies beyond. The black lion is the temptation of power — the impulse to build
temporal empire in |
a
spiritual universe. The red lion is the temptation to possess. Its ministers
in the human body are the |
sense
perceptions which would deflect the aspiring candidate from his holy course
and lead him into |
the
fantastic sphere of appetite and desire. There can be no compromise with
these monsters of |
perversion. |
|
With
the vision there appears suspended the strung bow of the will and two lance
-pointed arrows. |
Quickly
must the bow be drawn and to the heart of each beast a shaft be driven.
"Kill out desire," |
decrees
the eastem master. "Slay ambition," wrote the western sage. The
clouds upon which the lions |
stand
signify the unsubstantiality of the world's pomp and circumstance, while in
the clear sky above, |
the
golden Crown floats unsupported. Wisdom is a sufficient foundation for
itself, but all other bodies |
and
conditions depend for their support upon the frail stuff "that dreams
are made on." |
|
The
panel above the lions commands that man should bend the knee and worship the
all-powerful God |
who
sends forth His love in winged splendor from the first angle of the world.
(Aries.) It also informs |
that
the sixth sign, which is mighty and powerful, is the ending and completion of
the ages. Virgo, the |
sixth
sign of the zodiac, is the symbol of service and renunciation by which the
lions may be overcome. |
He
who gives up life for wisdom shall receive a fuller Ufe. |
|
Beneath
the lions is a panel containing Greek characters which mean: "Each must
sprinkle himself with |
his
own wine from the mountain of Chios. He must drink to God before the wood. He
must give |
himself
in exchange for that for which he yearns." These words are from an old
ritual. Wood was the |
symbol
of Dionysius and it was in honor of this god of the wood and of the vine that
the ritual of the |
Communion
was first established. To drink of one's own blood or to sprinkle oneself
with his own |
wine
is to be immersed in or tinctured by the inner soul power. |
|
p.
99 |
|
|
|
[paragraph
continues] Fementation was the presence of Bacchus or the Ufe in the juice of
the grape, and the |
Greeks
used the symbol of intoxication, as do the Sufis of Islam, to represent
ecstacy. A man in an |
ecstatic
state was described by them as being one "intoxicated with
God." |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
The
first initiation is that of earth, represented by the black marble passage,
ways in the subterranean |
regions
of the volcano. To pass this test the body must be subdued in all its parts
and become a perfect |
instrument
of the enlightened will. The bodily atoms and molecules must be vibrated anew
until there |
is no
part of the physical fabric which does not pulsate with spiritually directed
energy. |
|
The
second mystery in the order of the Memphis Rite is that of water, and at the
beginning of this |
section
the candidate finds himself standing on the shore of a vast underground lake.
This is the sea of |
ether
which separates the two worlds. It is the humidic body of the earth, the
sphere of generation. He |
who
would reach the invisible world must cross this sea, that is, become master
of the generative |
powers
of nature. Led by the blazing star, the candidate throws himself into the
midst of the waves. |
With
his lamp upon the crown of his head (the spirit fire lifted into the pineal
gland) he struggles for |
mastery
over the currents of the etheric world. His strength fails, and he cries out
to the Universal |
Cause
for help. A boat appears, in it seated the king of the earth with a golden
crown upon his |
forehead.
But the boat is pointed back toward the shore fi-om which the neophyte has
come. The |
crowned
man offers the kingdoms of the earth but the disciple of wisdom who has risen
above these |
things
cannot be thus easily tempted. Strengthened by the courage of righteous
decision and aided by |
the
invisible genii, the candidate fights his way to the distant shore. Before
him rises the silvery wall of |
the
moon, the lady of the sea, whose dominion he has passed. |
|
The
fire initiation awaits him. Having mastered the vital principle of nature by
which growth and |
propagation
are controlled, the candidate next faces ambition, the fire of pride and the
flaming tyranny |
of
emotional excess. He beholds the lions, the fire symbols. The key to the
course of action is revealed |
by
the hieroglyphics. The Uons, the writing and the wall dissolve. The path
stretches out through the |
sphere
of etemal flame. |
|
The
alchemical aspect of the symbolism is one of purification or the passing of
the elements of the |
Stone
through a bath. In this process of purification they pass from an earthy
state through a vaporous |
or
watery condition, to a fiery or gaseous quality. The lunar humidity present
in all bodies must be |
dried
out, which led the Greek philosophers to declare that "a dry soul is a
wise one." The Platonists |
interpreted
this to mean that the mastery of the lunar principle brought to an end the
reign of corruption |
by
which all bodies are finally dissolved. The moon rules physical generation or
the perpetuation of |
corruptible
forms, but the sun has dominion over spiritual generation, the creation of
incorraptible |
bodies.
Man is the progeny of fire (the sun), water (the moon), and air (the bird of
Thoth). The |
|
p.
100 |
|
temptation
by the king with the golden crown suggests one of the most common
difficulties of the |
alchemical
tradition. Those who attempted the art in most cases failed in their quest
for wisdom |
because
they became fascinated with dreams of wealth. Material gold tempts the
alchemist away from |
his
spiritual quest for enUghtenment and immortality. |
|
|
|
SECTION
IV. |
|
|
|
(Figure
TV, page 48) Upon an altar formed of the twelve whorls of a winged serpent
twisted about a |
spear
rests the cup of Everlastingness. The device is derived from the cyclic
serpent so often used in the |
Rites
of Serapis. The twelve coils of the snake are emblematic of the philosophic
year and the spiral |
course
of the Ain through the zodiacal constellations. In the preparation of the
Wise Man's Stone the |
elements
pass through twelve stages of augmentation. In each of these cycles the power
of the matter is |
intensified,
a fact which is suggested by the increasing size of the serpent's spirals.
The figure is also |
reminiscent
of what the sages termed the philosophic vortex — the natural form of the
soul power in the |
human
body. |
|
In
Isis Unveiled, H. P. Blavatsky writes: "Before our globe had become
egg-shaped or round it was a |
long
trail of cosmic dust or fire-mist, moving and writhing like a serpent. This,
say the explanations, |
was
the Spirit of God moving on the Chaos until its breath had incubated cosmic
matter and made it |
assume
the annular shape * * *". In the Chaldean Oracles the Universal Fire is
described as moving |
with
a serpentine motion. The present symbol is the Universal Wisdom moving as a
winged serpent |
upon
the surface of the primitive chaos — that is, the unregenerated body of the
neophyte. The ritual of |
the
Sabazian Mysteries included the drawing of a live snake across the breast of
the candidate. In the |
drawing,
the serpent is twisted around the backbone — the spear — and forms an
appropriate support for |
the
cup of immortahty. |
|
Beside
this strange altar stands the jewelled sword. Faintly traceable upon its
sheath are the ancient |
|
symbols
of the eye, the heart, and the mouth, symbolic of the three persons of the
Creative Triad — life |
in the
heart, light in the eye, breath in the mouth. The life, the light, and the
breath are the sources of all |
things
and from their union in the cruciform symbol the candidate must fashion the
weapon for his |
protection
against the elemental darkness. The cycle symbol must be overcome by wisdom.
This is "the |
sword
of quick decision" with which the Oriental neophyte must cut low the
snaky branches of the |
world
banyan tree, the emblem of the self-replenishing cycles and the law of
rebirth. The serpent is the |
spiral
of evolution; the cup contains the shining Nirvanic sea into which the soul
is finally merged; the |
sword
is the illumined will — ^the same sword which solves the enigma of Ufe's
Gordian Knot by cutting |
it
with a single stroke. |
|
The
cryptic words on the upper panel carry out this thought. Translated, they
are: "Reverence this |
vessel
(the ark or cup) of Everlastingness; offer freely of yourself a portion unto
M (Mi or Jah, |
Jehovah)
and to the comer (or angle) in |
|
p.
101 |
|
atonement."
This is derived from the symbolism of the Chaldeans, who regarded the
Universal Cause |
as
the Lord of the Angles. |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
The
candidate enters upon the place of fire. A great sea of flames (the astral
world) stretches out in |
every
direction, bubbling and seething with an infemal fiiry. The daemon orders the
candidate to |
advance.
With his mind fixed upon Reality, the disciple obeys, only to discover that
the fire has lost its |
heat,
and he walks unharmed into the midst of the conflagration. He finds himself
in the Temple of |
Sidereal
Fire, in the midst of which is the greenish-gold form of a serpent with ruby
eyes and di^ered |
scales.
The nature of the fire is clearly revealed, for we are told that one-half of
it bums with a vivid |
light,
while the other half is shadowed and blackish. Here is the serpent of the
astral light, which, |
according
to Eliphas Levi, is twined around every flower that grows in the garden of
Kama, or desire. |
|
|
|
The
yogi in his meditation knows well the meaning of the House of Fire and the
serpent which guards |
it.
Here the candidate discovers the significance of the Universal Fire-Spirit
which, turned downward, |
is
the root of all evil, but if it be lifted up, draws all men to wisdom. The
serpent-fire must be |
overcome.
The sword is at hand, and with it the candidate strikes at the brazen coils.
Brass is the |
composite
metal symbolic of the body of man, before it is reduced by philosophy to its
simple |
elements. |
|
The
Lord of the Fire World is vanquished. The senses are controlled; the
appetites are under the iron |
dominion
of the will. Anger, hate, and pride have been exiled from the soul. The three
fires of illusion |
have
died out. The whole mirage of the astral light fades amidst a terrifying
outburst of sound and |
color.
The candidate is lifted through the Arches of the underworld. He passes
quickly through the |
monsters
that dwell on the boundaries of excess. The cmciform sword scatters the foul
throng of |
darkness.
Upward and upward, through the numerous layers of the globe (the orbits of
the interior |
stars)
the neophyte rises, after his three days (degrees) in the darkness of Hades.
The stone is rolled |
away,
and at last, with a burst of glory, he rises into the Ught of day — the air
sphere where dwells the |
mind
which must be conquered next. |
|
The
alchemical philosophy is evident. The circular space is a distilling vessel
which stands in the midst |
of the
furnace flame. The serpent represents elements within the retort, and the
candidate portrays other |
elements
which have the power to dissolve and corrode the serpent. The rising of the
candidate upward |
through
the walls of the globe here signifies the vapors which, ascending through the
long neck of the |
distilling
vessel, escape from the heated inferno below. |
|
SECTION
V. |
|
{Figure
V, page 50) The strange bird hovering above the altar fire is the sacred
Ibis, symbol of Thoth, |
the
Egyptian god of wisdom and letters, and the patron of alchemy. It is the
volatile philosophical |
Mercury
which can remain in a suspended state only "when in the midst of the
flames." By the |
philosophical
Mercury we |
|
p.
102 |
|
must
understand the regenerated principle of intellect — mind rendered truly
luminous by the flame of |
inspiration.
In its beak the bird carries a green branch, the acacia of Freemasonry — ^the
symbol of |
rebirth
and immortality through spiritual enUghtermient. The black feet and wings
signify the earth |
principle,
the silvery body the wa^er principle, the red head the fire principle, and
the golden neck the |
airy
principle. The spiritual bodies of the elements are thus united in a
philosophical creature, the bird |
of
the wise men — the phcenix. |
|
Beside
the bird and the altar is an elaborate candlestick, its base formed of
twisted serpents. (Ida and |
Pingala?)
The upper end of the candlestick terminates in a lotus blossom from which
rises a lighted |
taper.This
is the soul light, the inner radiance which reveals the secret of the bird.
As man's extemal |
existence
is lighted by an extemal sun, by which he perceives all temporal concerns, so
his intemal |
existence
is illuminated by the light of the soul, the radiance of which renders
visible the workings of |
the
divine mind within. |
|
The
inscription beneath reads: "To the strong is given the burden."
This refers to the qualifications for |
|
adeptship.
The great truths of life can be conferred only upon those who have been
tested in the |
essentials
of character and understanding. In the panel above, the reader is instructed
to "Kindle a fire |
|
|
|
upon
the high place, that the sacrifice may be borne upward to the Desired
One." The symbolism is |
borrowed
fi^om the ceremonials of the old Jews. Upon the altar of burnt incense a fire
was continually |
buming.
This is the fire of holy aspiration which consumes the base elements of the
body and |
transmutes
them into soul qualities, symbolized by the incense fiimes, and these ascend
as evidence of |
the
spiritual convenant between aspiring humanity and its Creator. |
|
The
panel to the right describes the ceremony which accompanies the building of
the sacred fire. The |
one on
the left is part of a ritual, in substance as follows: "When the years
of this existence are done, |
and
the soul, outbreathing at death, approaches the gate of immortality, may the
bird bear it swiftly |
away
to the abode of the wise." In the Egyptian rites, the soul of the
Initiate departed in the form of a |
bird
which is shown hovering over the couch on which the mummy lies. The soul-bird
with the green |
branch
refers to the Messianic Mystery as set forth in the Book of the Dead. Wisdom
confers |
immortality
upon the soul. Without wisdom, the soul must perish with the body. This is
the secret of |
the
ritual of the Coming Forth by Day or the Breathing Out of the Ka. |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
The
candidate next experienced the mystery of the airy or intellectual principle.
He is raised out of the |
subterranean
depths by his guardian spirit and lifted into the higher atmosphere. Below
him is the |
desert.
Special attention is called to triangular masses — the pyramids. An early
manuscript in our |
collection
affirms that the Egyptians were able to manufacture the Philosopher's Stone
without |
artificial
heat by burying the retort in the desert sand, which furnished the exact
temperature for |
alchemical
experiments. The desert is here a symbol for the aridity |
|
p.
103 |
|
and
unproductivity of the unawakened consciousness. In the physical universe
spiritual values languish, |
yet
in the midst of this mortal sphere stand the pyramids, supreme symbols of
spiritual alchemy — |
temples
of initiation in the desert of waiting. It is significant that the atmosphere
of Egypt is peculiarly |
conducive
to the perpetuation of ancient monuments of learning which, when moved from
their old |
footings,
rapidly crumble away. Thus material Ufe, the desert, is a natural laboratory
in which the |
supreme
chemistry is accomplished through suffering and aspiration. |
|
The
account of the rising and falling of the candidate through space relates to
the alternations of the |
substances
in the retort by which they pass through a cycle of attenuation and
precipitation, to be |
finally
drawn off through the neck of the vessel. Hermes uses this figure to set
forth the mystery of |
rebirth,
the periodic altemation of the soul from a temporal to a sidereal condition,
and its final |
liberation
through initiation. Reaching the upper extremity of the intellectual sphere,
the candidate is |
incapable
of further function, and swoons. |
|
Upon
regaining consciousness he discovers himself to be invested with a starry
garment, the same |
spoken
of by Apuleius in his Metamorphosis, and also that wom by the adepts of the
Mithraic Rite. By |
the
starry garment is represented not only the auric body but the new universal
aspect of being — the |
sidereal
consciousness bestowed by the experience of initiation. The candidate may
return to the |
narrowness
of his physical environment, but he can never again reduce his consciousness
to the |
limitations
of the material state. The starry body is his regenerated and illumined
intellect. |
|
The
strange characters signifying the name of the bird with the green branch are
decoded to mean "To |
be
given the Ufe" — that is, immortaUty. The name of the altar reads:
"The Crown, Kether"and is |
|
|
|
decoded,
'When shall be the gate of entrance." Together, the two phrases mean:
"Immortality shall be |
conferred
at the gate of the House of Wisdom." The name of the torch is Light; but
translated, the |
characters
read: "The dernier shall be hidden away and forgotten." This coin
of the prophet should be |
understood
in the sense of the suit of Coins in the Tarot deck, for this suit represents
the material body |
over
which the symbol has rulership. The statement may then read: "The body
of the wise man shall be |
concealed."
This thought was faithfully followed by the old adepts. The tombs of the
Initiates have |
never
been discovered; and in the famous Rosicrucian cemetery the resting places of
the Brothers are |
marked
only by the Rose. During the initiation ceremonies, which took place in the
invisible worlds, |
the
physical body of the neophyte was hidden in a secret place where no
disturbing forces could reach |
it
while the soul was exploring the mysteries of Amenti. Body here also
represents personality and the |
whole
personal sphere of life which must be cast aside and forgotten; also the
personal ego which must |
die
or be buried that the Universal Self may be bom from its seed. |
|
SECTION
VI. |
|
(Figure
VI, page 54) The altar which our author describes as being composed of |
|
p.
104 |
|
the
four elements is triangular in shape. From this circumstance two sacred
numbers are produced: the |
square
(4) plus the triangle (3) equals 7; and the four elements of the altar
multiplied by the triangle |
equals
12. From this the composition of the world is made apparent. Nature is a
triangular arrangement |
of
four elements; and the divine world, of which the zodiac is a proper symbol,
consists of these |
elements
multiplied three times, or in their three primary states. The altar is the
human body; its |
material
parts — the square — are arranged in the spiritual order — a triangle. Upon
the altar are the three |
symbols
from the previous diagram. They are so placed as to form a triangle, and we
must understand |
them
as salt, sulphur and Mercury — ^body, spirit, and soul. |
|
In
the air above the altar is the cmx ansata, the symbol of generation and
fecundity. This may be |
considered
as copper — the metal of Venus, and a symbol of the reproductive energy of
the soul. Venus |
is the
Lucifer of the ancients, the Ught bearer, the star of self-knowledge. This
symbol must remind the |
sage
that the power to multiply is common to both the intemal and extemal man. As
bodies generate |
bodies,
so the inner body, the soul, generates the archetypes of personaUties. By
alchemy, wisdom |
perpetuates
itself by applying to its own peculiar purposes the same laws by which forms
are |
perpetuated
in the corporeal sphere. |
|
The
whole figure is a symbol of spiritual generation, the mystery of Melchisedek,
who is his own father |
and
his own mother and is above the law. It sets forth perpetual reenergization
by the use of the Stone. |
It
tells of the very power, which St. -Germain himself possessed, of continuing
from century to century |
by
means of the subtle Elixir, the secret of which was known only to himself and
his Masters. First, the |
three
parts of the composite man spirit, soul, and body — ^must be brought into
equilibrium, and from |
this
equilibrium is bom the HomuncuH or Crystal Man. This Man is an immortally
generating ego |
capable
of precipitating personaUties at will, yet itself unchanged by these
personaUties and unlimited |
by
them. Instead of the soul living in the body and prisoned by its limitations,
a new condition is |
established:
the body lives in the soul. To the adept, the physical form is but an
instmment for the |
expression
of consciousness, intelUgence, and action — ^represented by the candle, the
bird, and the |
buming
altar. |
|
|
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
|
|
This
part contains some of the most beautifiil symbohsm in the entire manuscript.
The candidate, |
having
transcended the four elements, now continues into the sphere of higher
causations, where he is |
instmcted
in the great Cabbalistic principles by which the universal integrity is
preserved. The palace is |
the
archetypal sphere — Plato's world of Ideas. The simple geometric arrangement
reveals the divine |
harmony. |
|
The
doors of the archetypal world swing open and the Hierophant of the Order
comes forth. It is He |
who
was called the Master of the Hidden House, the Initiator, the Keeper of the
Keys of Thoth. |
Alchemy
is a religion of fire, as is also Zarathustrism. The Magus therefore wears
the insignias of |
Zoroaster
and speaks in the |
|
p.
105 |
|
language
of the Fire Prophet. The names which the Hierophant gives to the bird, the
torch and the altar |
are
the same as those given in the preceding section. |
|
In
company with the Initiator the candidate enters the immense temple, whose 360
columns leave no |
doubt
as to its identity with the universe. The altar already described, being the
threefold cause of the |
material
sphere, is placed in the center of the great hall. The Hierophant next
informs the disciple as to |
the
new names which have been bestowed upon the sacred objects. The bird is
called Ampheercha, |
which
is interpreted to mean that a mother shall bear the likeness, or double. This
is a reference to the |
Immaculate
Conception and to the Secret Doctrine as the mother of the adepts. The name
for the altar |
appears
to be the word for priest but refers to the Initiator as the one through whom
the disciple is bom |
in the
second or philosophic birth, a mystery more fully explained in the name of
the torch. The hall is |
called
Sky (the firmament) but involves in the formation of its characters the
Cabbalistic admonition: |
"Worship
the glory which is to come." The triangular altar is Athanor, a self-
feeding digesting furnace |
used
by the alchemists, but the word may be divided into two. The first part then
means immortality |
and
the second, the four quarters of the heavens. |
|
The
eighty-one Thrones placed within the palace of the Sky, each at the top of
nine steps, are of great |
significance.
The Rosicrucian Mysteries consisted of nine lesser and three greater rites or
degrees — a |
system
which may be traced directly to the Cabbala. Out of Kether, the universal
Crown, issue the nine |
Sephiroth
and from each of these in turn issue nine others. Nine is the sacred number
of Man, and in |
the
old Cabbala, Adam (ADM) is the numerical equivalent of r, 4, and 40 —
^numbers whose sum is 9. |
The
symbohsm of the nine is continued throughout mystical literature. The
Eleusinian Mysteries were |
given
in nine noctumal ceremonials to represent the months of the prenatal epoch.
By Cabbalistic |
addition,
eighty-one equals nine, and the Thrones signify the eighty -one branches
growing upon the |
great
World Tree. The schools of the Lesser Mysteries are patterned from the
universal harmony and |
here
we see set forth the arrangement of the secret Brotherhood. |
|
The
name for the great hall is repeated in the text at the point where the
venerable members of the |
school
enter and take their seats. The disciple receives his philosophical name. He
is called the Wise |
Man
and the words mean: "To be the Face or Manifestor of the Most
High." The nine masters of the |
lodge
then bestow their gifts. The first gives a cube of gray earth representing
the element of earth; the |
second,
three cylinders of black stone — the three phases of the Moon; the third, a
rounded crystal — |
Mercury;
the fourth a crest of blue plumes — Venus; the fifth, a silver vase — the
Sun; the sixth, a cluster |
of
grapes — ^Mars; the seventh, a bird — ^Jupiter; the eighth, a small altar —
Saturn; and the ninth, a |
torch
— the fixed stars. For the understanding of the significance of these gifts,
consider the following |
fragments
from the Pyamander of Hermes relative to the ascension of the soul through
the nine spheres |
|
|
|
and
its return to the Lords of each of these spheres the gifts or limitations
which are imposed by the |
laws
of generation: |
|
p.
106 |
|
"After
the lower nature has retumed to the brutishness (the elements) the higher
struggles again to |
regain
its spiritual estate. It ascends the seven Rings upon which sit the Seven
Governors and returns to |
each
their lower powers in this manner: Upon the first ring sits the Moon, and to
it is retumed the |
ability
to increase and diminish. Upon the second ring sits Mercury, and to it are
retumed |
machinations,
deceit, and craftiness. Upon the third ring sits Venus, and to it are retumed
the lusts and |
passions.
Upon the fourth ring sits the Sun, and to this Lord are retumed ambitions.
Upon the fifth ring |
sits
Mars, and to it are returned rashness and profane boldness. Upon the sixth
ring sits Jupiter, and to it |
are
retumed the sense of accumulation and riches. And upon the seventh ring sits
Saturn, at the Gate of |
Chaos,
and to it are retumed falsehood and evil plotting. |
|
"Then,
being naked of all the accumulations of the seven Rings, the soul comes to
the Eighth Sphere, |
namely,
the ring of the fixed stars. Here, freed of all illusion, it dwells in the
Light and sings praises to |
the
Father in a voice which only the pure of spirit may understand." |
|
The
name for the cube of gray earth relates to the mystery of the spiritual
birth; that of the three black |
cylinders
is selflessness; that of the rounded crystal signifies the end of the ages or
the cycles; that of |
the
blue plumes is Aquarius or the Leg of the Great Man; that of the silver vase
is the birth of the spirit; |
that
of the grapes is regeneration; that of the bird, they who live in the light
or truth; that of the altar, |
the
fruitage of virtue, or ultimate good; and that of the torch "the
springing forth," the Egyptian Coming |
Forth
by Day — the completion, the ninth mystery. That the torch is really a symbol
of the sphere of the |
fixed
stars and of the corresponding strata of the human soul is fiirther proved by
the fact that the |
manuscript
tells us that it is composed of brilhant particles. |
|
The
mastery of the nine parts of the soul constitutes the completion of the
Lesser Mysteries and the full |
control
of all bodily faculties, functions, and powers. The three Greater Mysteries
lie beyond and are |
still
symbolized by the bird, the torch, and the light. The Lesser Mysteries are
rituals of self control and |
purification;
the Greater Mysteries are rituals of creation. In nine processes man purifies
himself, but |
only
to the few are given the keys of the threefold creative Mystery: the creation
of form, the creation |
of
thought, and the creation of consciousness. Before leaving the chamber of
initiation, the candidate |
drinks
of the Water of Life, the nectar of the gods, which is explained by the
philosophers as |
representing
the blood of the Logos or the Sun — the divine energy which sustains the
elect, and which |
is
constantly flowing in the Grail of the Mysteries. According to the Greeks,
the gods partake of no |
mortal
food, but are nourished from the fountains of Eternal Good which spring up in
the midst of the |
worlds.
Having given the secret sign to the adepts, the new Initiate departs from the
chamber by the |
right-hand
path. |
|
SECTION
VII. |
|
(Figure
Vn, page 60) The key to the seventh plate is equilibrium, this being the |
|
p.
107 |
|
virtue
bestowed by the seventh sign of the zodiac. Libra, the Balance. Our author
tells us that the |
central
motif, two small circles and a pendant cross, is a sacred seal. This may be
interpreted as the |
|
|
|
celestial
sulphur and salt — the Sun and Moon. The suspended cross is the Lapis
Philosophorum, |
composed
of the regenerated elements — salt (earth), sulphur (fire), Mercury (air),
and Azoth the aether |
(water
of the sages). The Sun and Moon are the father and mother of the
Philosopher's Stone. They |
represent
heaven and earth, fi-om which is generated the cross — man, the progeny of
the two immortal |
agents,
spirit and matter. The cross also signifies the equilibrium of man suspended
between his origin |
and
destiny. The arrangement of the figures indicates the adept in whom the union
of all opposites has |
been
effected. The Initiate is the rational androgyne. |
|
Surrounding
the central part of the symbol are two circles of figures. The inner circle
is composed of |
cuneiform
characters; the outer, of hieroglyphics derived from several ancient
languages, arranged in a |
manner
entirely arbitrary, and undecipherable without the original key. The circle
of cuneiform |
characters
must be interpreted by discovering the Hebrew equivalents of the
arrow-pointed letters. The |
text
is apparently prophetic, and at first reading may seem to refer to the cosmic
change which arises |
Irom
the tipping of the celestial Balance. In reality, however, the material deals
strictly with changes |
which
are to take place in the soul of the Initiate. The cuneiformed-Hebrew reads
as follows, probably |
continuing
fi-om the outer circle of hieroglyphic text: |
|
"And
is the outbreathing of Everlastingness. Know that place (sign or symbol,
probably a zodiacal |
constellation)
to be the end (of the ages). The Leg (Aquarius, probably referring to the
Aquarian Age or |
cycle)
is the beginning of the destmction." In the zodiacal cycle of adeptship,
Aquarius is the symbol of |
the
final disintegration of the personality, for beyond it lies only Pisces, the
Nirvana. |
|
St.-Germain's
manuscript also describes an axe, not shown in the illustration. This is the
instrument of |
separation,
and would agree exactly with the interpretation of the figure. This whole
device is |
suspended
between two pillars of green marble. These may well be the Jachin and Boaz
of |
Freemasonry.
Students of the Cabbala will remember the third column which united these
two, and |
which,
like the great seal in this figure, represented the adept whose perfected
constitution united |
wisdom
and generation — the law and the prophets. |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
The
Initiate again assumes the attributes of the alchemical substance from which
the Universal Stone is |
to be
prepared. The entire section is devoted to processes of purification,
consisting of three baths. As |
the
result of the first bath, the water in the steel vessel becomes discolored
with the impurities given off |
by
the philosophical matter. In the second bath the elements of the Stone are
impregnated with a |
mysterious
reddish liquid of an extremely corrosive quality. In the third bath the
corrosive principle is |
washed
away. These three processes, which require |
|
p.
108 |
|
sixteen
days, completely purify the matter, which then passes on to its next
augmentation. |
|
From a
mystical viewpoint, the vessel filled with crystal-clear water is the laver
of purification placed |
in
the courtyard of the Tabemacle of the ancient Jews. The high priests who
served the Lord must |
cleanse
themselves with the water from the laver before they could perform the sacred
duties of their |
office.
The ceremony of baptism is but the outer symbol of the irmer truth. The
Absolute Cause of all |
things
in its impersonal and utterly diffused condition was regarded as a vast ocean
filling all space. |
The
Schamayim, which is the divine fiery water — the out-fiowing of the Word of
God — descends from |
the
divine Presence. Dividing in the middle distance between spirit and matter,
it becomes solar fire |
|
|
|
and
lunar water. This Schamayim was known to the alchemists as the Universal
Mercury, and is called |
Azoth,
the measureless Spirit of Life. This spiritual, fiery, original water passes
through Eden (which in |
Hebrew
means "vapor") and pours itself into four main rivers — the
elements which are the conditions |
of the
Universal Mercury. This is the tincturing water by which the righteous are
baptised. It is this |
water,
the Universal Mercury, the solvent of the sages, by which the spiritual
b^tism is given. He who |
is
immersed in this water, or who receives the heavenly Schamayim into himself,
becomes cleansed |
and
purified. This Schamayim contains within itself the twofold baptism. Its
lunar power baptises with |
water
— ^the baptism given by John the Baptist; but its solar principle baptises
with fire — the Messianic |
b^tism. |
|
The
Initiates of the ancient Mysteries being lifted up into an apotheistic
condition, received the divine |
b^tism.
They were immersed in God, and by this immersion they were washed clean of
the black spot |
of
original sin, which, according to Mohammed, is in the heart of every mortal.
The Schamayim of the |
alchemists
is the Shining Sea of the Buddhists, the boundless Nirvanic ocean, the water
of space |
constantly
alight with God. |
|
The
silver axe with blue handle, attached to the column, is called the destroyer;
but the translation is: |
"Lift
the voice to its fullness in chant. (Or song.)" The axe is the ancient
symbol of the Initiated |
Builders,
the "hewers of wood." It is also the emblem of separation or
division, and is an appropriate |
figure
to represent separation through purification. |
|
The
sign of Libra, which rules the seventh operation of the philosophical
mystery, divides the lower |
from
the upper hemisphere of the zodiac. It is also the ancient sign of the
Passover, a feast which |
signified
the passing over of life from a material to an immaterial condition by the
alchemical b^tism. |
The
gross particles of the soul are washed away and Ufe is prepared for a
supersubstantial existence. |
|
SECTION
VIII. |
|
(Figure
VIII, page 62) In the sky blazes the philosophical sun, within it the face of
the Logos. Its rays |
are
concealed by the same clouds which must ever hide the Divine Light Irom the
eyes of the profane. |
The
Lion is now crowned, its coronet |
|
p.
109 |
|
having
seven rays, symbolic of the seven energies of the will. This is no longer the
despotic Uon of the |
earlier
illustration. Ambition has been transmuted into aspiration; and that impulse
which, |
unregenerated,
lures men on to temporal destruction, is now the force which bestows courage
upon |
spiritual
enterprise. |
|
The
bunch of grapes symbolizes illumination. A curious work on alchemy states
that the grape has a |
special
affinity for gold, and that when vineyards are planted in areas where gold is
abundant, the roots |
of the
vine absorb the minute particles of this precious metal and distribute them
throughout its stalk, |
leaves,
and fruit. In alchemy, gold is the symbol of the Supreme Principle. The
Nazarene likened His |
disciples
and Himself to a vine with its fruits. The grape cluster is an appropriate
symbol for the school |
of the
adepts, for the Initiates grow together upon a single branch. Here also is a
subtle allusion to the |
blood,
which carries within it the golden particles of the sun. The Uon and the
grapes restate the old |
formula
wisdom and generation. |
|
|
|
The
panels of characters on either side of the brazier contain fragments from old
rituals and mystery |
texts.
The one upon the right reads: "Kindle a light at the appointed time —
the seventh hour of the |
dawning.
" This is followed by an obscure reference to the coming forth of five
at the full sun (noon) |
and
the panel concludes with the admonition: "Dance in a circle and
prophecy.- |
|
The
panel at the left is also descriptive of a ceremony: "Honor is paid to
the Giver of life.- The Initiate |
is
admonished to sacrifice his Ka or soul. The number q appears, and the symbol
of the ark or coffin in |
which
candidates are buried in the mystery. Then the full face of the sun appears,
to represent |
resurrection.
There is an allusion to the gate in the heavens and the ascension of the Ka.
With the aid of |
Egyptian
met^hysics, it is not difficult to decipher these symbols. The number |
|
refers
to the nine Lesser Mysteries associated with the box or coffm — ^the body.
The sun-face is the |
resurrection,
and the whole panel describes the passage of the soul (Ka) through the
invisible worlds as |
set
forth in the symbolism of the Pyramid Rites. This is appropriately placed in
the eighth division of |
the
manuscript, inasmuch as the eighth sign of the zodiac is Scorpio and it was
in a certain degree of |
this
sign that the high priest released the Ka of his disciple into the
Amenti. |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
The
eighth section of the manuscript is devoted largely to an understanding of
the mystery of the |
alchemical
salt. Of this mystery of alchemy Eliphas Levi writes: "To separate the
subtile from the gross |
* * *
is to liberate the soul from the prejudices and (from) all vice, which is
accomplished by the use of |
Philosophical
Salt, that is to say. Wisdom; of Mercury, that is, personal skiU and
application; finally, of |
Sulphur,
representing vital energy and fire of will. By these are we enabled to change
into spiritual gold |
things
which are of all least precious, even the refuse of the earth." The Salt
of the sages is wisdom |
derived
from experience, for experience is the salt of earthiness, or the material
state, and a wise man is |
the
salt of the earth. In our manuscript the salt is called "the first among
the regenerated." When the |
|
p.
110 |
|
[paragraph
continues] Initiate impregnates himself with salt, it is equivalent to saying
that he makes wisdom |
part
of himself. Salt is a preservative of bodies, just as wisdom is a
preservative of souls. Decay cannot |
affect
that one who has discovered the wise man's salt. |
|
Leaving
the circular apartment and the mass of white and shining salt, the Initiate
approaches the edge |
of a
somber lake, and perceives at a distance a bridge called the strong to be
subdued. The term also |
signifies
a reflector or a shadow suspended over the lake, and betokens the Rainbow
Bridge, the Bifrost |
of
the Scandanavians — the bridge which leads from earth upward to Asgard, the
terrestrial paradise |
where
dwell the twelve Ases, the Hierophants of the world. |
|
The
eighth sign of the zodiac is Scorpio, well represented by the dark and somber
waters. The sign of |
Scorpio
was especially venerated by the Rosicrucians, who performed certain of their
rituals only when |
the
sun was in this constellation. With great difficulty the Initiate forces his
way through the morass of |
Scorpio
to reach the great temple of Sagittarius which looms in front and above. |
|
SECTION
IX. |
|
{Figure
IX, p. 66 ) As this section signifies Sagittarius it is most appropriate that
the figure of a horse |
should
appear in the symbolism. The Trojan Horse, concealing within its body the
army of conquering |
|
|
|
Greeks,
represents the occult force of this constellation by which the Trojans (the
material world) |
fighting
to defend Helen (the lunar principle) were finally overcome. In astrology the
ninth house, |
which
corresponds to Sagittarius, is the house of the sacerdotal class, the
priesthood, or the Mysteries. |
The
hollow horse with the men inside is, therefore, the temple and its
adepts. |
|
In
our figure, an unusual application is made of this symbolism. A corpse is
falling from the horse. |
Beyond
the ninth degree the physical body cannot go, therefore it must here be cast
off. Form can go |
no
further — the corpse is cast out of the temple. |
|
The
Arabic text at the top of the plate reads: 'That which is hidden shall be
brought to view" or "the |
hidden
things (sins) are to be stripped off." The cuneiform consists of the
following legend: "The gate |
of
the end (completion or conclusion) when the Leg or the Waterman tums in the
circle (the equinox in |
Aquarius)."
In the boxlike frame is the following: "The select few — how many are
there? Forty who in |
brotherly
love assemble together to the four quarters and the Bird. Here below (in the
mortal sphere) to |
be
held (gathering or assembly) until in its place is the coming in the fourth
quarter (Aquarius)." The |
large
characters MB refer to the alchemical process whereby the mortification and
destruction of the |
body
is accomplished. The floriate letters are words to be completed by the
addition of other letters. |
When
this has been done, the sentence reads: "Seek after the all-powerful
Lord who is the guardian of |
the
Tree of Life." In the lower half of the figure a red -robed man is
attempting to restore life to the |
corpse.
This is fire (or iron) striving to revivify the ashes, an alchemical
emblem. |
|
p.
Ill |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
In the
ninth step of the ritual, the Initiate comes face to face with the last great
enemy — death, which |
must
be experienced, understood, and overcome. In the gloom of the great chamber
with its ebon walls |
he
perceives the strange Horse of Troy. Here is putrefaction, the end of all
ignorance and the gate of |
life.
The Initiate spends nine days in the contemplation of this mystery, and is
about to take up some of |
the
foul and disintegrating substance lying piled in a corner, when he is warned
by an invisible voice |
that
the time has not yet come. |
|
In
Sagittarius, the ninth sign of the zodiac, the theory of philosophy is
perfected, for the world was |
created
in six days but Art is perfected in nine. Hermes writes thus: "But this
multiplication (the |
augmentation
of the Philosopher's Stone) cannot be carried on ad infinitum, but it attains
completeness |
in the
ninth rotation; for when this tincture has been rotated nine times it cannot
be exalted any fiirther, |
because
it will not permit any further separation." After theory comes practice,
after operation follows |
use.
The adept, realizing that he already possesses the power to tincture matter,
would experiment with |
the
black decaying earth in the ninth chamber, but is prevented from so doing. He
must yet receive the |
three
Greater Keys, for the power to accomplish transmutation is imperfect until
spiritual vision reveals |
the
proper ends which the adept must accomplish. |
|
After
leaving the house of putrefaction the Initiate observes that his rohe changes
color, becoming at |
last a
beautiful green. This is a direct allusion to the alchemical formula. We are
told that during the |
processes
of digestion the alchemical substance changes color, which has given rise to
its being called |
the
peacock because of its iridescence during one of the periods of its
digestion. The various colored |
garments
worn by the several degrees of the ancient priestcrafts represented stages of
spiritual |
unfoldment.
According to the same rule, in the preparation of the Wise Man's Stone the
base substance |
|
|
|
passes
through a philosophical spectrum, turning from one color to another according
to the end which |
the
operator desires to achieve. |
|
The
three cryptic words with which the section is concluded cause the last
sentence to read: 'The name |
of the
hall is corruption. The name of the first lake is the beginning of
corruption, and the name of the |
second
lake the end of corruption." The three cypher words, when connected,
give the meaning: |
"Corruption
is the beginning of decay and corruption is followed by death." In the
perfecting of the |
Stone
of the Wise Man it was discovered that it is impossible to unite the various
elements into new |
fundamental
pattems until each has been reduced to its most simple and original
condition. This |
reduction,
or the destroying of the personality of the elements, is the philosophical
corruption which, |
brought
about by Art, destroys all the apparent differences in the alchemical
materials, and renders |
possible
a perfect mingling of their principles to eventuate in the formation of the
divine Stone. |
Mystically,
the philosophic death is the destruction of the numerous aspects of the
personality, so that |
from
the soul and its extensions (the divine elements) may be formed the Diamond
Soul of the Rose |
Cross. |
|
p.
112 |
|
SECTION
X. |
|
{Figure
X, p. 70 ) A man robed in a green garment edged with gold, and bearing a
lance, is arising |
amidst
vaporous clouds from an open sarcophogus. Above the human figure is suspended
a golden |
crown
of hght. The whole symbolizes the annual rebirth of the sun in the tenth
zodiacal sign — ^the |
winter
solstice in Capricorn. As the tenth month of the philosophic year, this
hieroglyph sets forth the |
first
of the three Greater Mysteries which are presided over by the constellations
of Capricorn, |
Aquarius,
and Pisces. |
|
The
drawing depicts the final victory of the spiritualized soul over the
limitations of the bodily tomb. |
The
green garment reveals the adept to be clothed in his illumined soul, which is
under the rulership of |
Venus.
The breastplate bears upon it cryptic letters which mean LIFE. The Initiate
has achieved |
immortality.
For him the tomb will be forever empty. He has become one of that small band
of the |
enlightened
"whom death has forgotten." |
|
The
Arabic characters on the lid of the coffin admonish the Elect that they
should seize upon a certain |
undesignated
mystery "when the sixth sign or age is to be the breath." These
words evidently refer to |
the
parts of a ritual. That which is to be seized upon is the "master secret
of alchemy." The tomb is also |
the
burial place of the master of magic whose demier (or body) was hidden,
according to an earher |
figure.
In one of the early Rosicmcian books is described a curious practice of the
Brethren. They are |
said
to have periodically retired into their glass eggs, where they rested for a
certain number of years, |
after
which they broke through the walls and emerged again. This allegory in turn
alludes to the |
periodic
withdrawal of the Mysteries from society and their reappearance "after a
certain time has |
passed."
From the inscription we are led to infer that the periods during which the
secret Brotherhood |
comes
forth from its obscurity are regulated by the astronomical cycles of the
zodiac. We may read |
from
the symbols, "When the sixth sign is the life-giver I will come
forth." |
|
The
hieroglyphics in the panel at the top of the page are descriptive of the
philosophic resurrection. |
They
read in substance: "To be freed with a shout of joy when the downpouring
of the holy Spirit |
descends.
" There is also mention of a covenant of blood with the One at the time
of the fourth quarter, |
that
is, the Waterman with the Face. (Aquarius.) |
|
|
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
|
|
Death
is followed by resurrection. Man must die many times in order that he may
finally achieve |
immortality.
The butterfly which decorates the portals of the alabaster palace indicates
clearly that the |
mystery
of rebirth is the subject of the tenth initiation. 'The three stages through
which the butterfly |
passes
in its unfoldment correspond to the three degrees of the Mystery School,
which degrees are |
regarded
as consummating the unfoldment of man by giving him emblematic wings by which
he may |
soar
to the skies. Unregenerated man, ignorant and helpless, |
|
p.
113 |
|
is
symbolized by the stage between ovum and larva; the diciple, seeking truth
and dwelling in |
meditation,
by the second stage from larva to pupa, at which time the insect enters its
chrysalis (the |
tomb
of the Mysteries) ;the third stage from pupa to imago (wherein the perfect
butterfly comes forth) |
typifies
the unfolded and enhghtened soul of the Initiate rising from the tomb of his
baser nature." (See |
my
Encyclopedic Outline of Symbolical Philosophy.) The threefold mystery of the
butterfly is further |
suggested
by the triple colonnade separated by aisles and passageways. |
|
The
cryptic name of the hail indicates that it symbolizes the hfe cycle and also
the sphere of retribution. |
|
Translated,
it reads: "At the outpouring of the Almighty (the persecutors or the
adversaries) shall be |
shut
up and overcome." Von Welling, in his Opus, describes how the rebel
angels — the elementary |
spirits
— were locked in the dark elements of the material universe as punishment for
their rebellion. |
Alchemy,
then, is the art of purifying these malcontents and restoring them to their
original celestial |
state. |
|
SECTION
XI. |
|
(Figure
XI, page 72) As the tenth illustration represents the final liberation of the
Divine Man from his |
physical
limitations, so the eleventh depicts the attempt of the intellect to break
away from bondage to |
the
animal soul. The powerful man with his girdle and helmet of iron, and his
crest of red plumes, is the |
Demiurgus
or Regent of the physical world, the governor of the senses and appetites. He
is attempting |
to
bind the spiritualized intellect to the rock of ignorance. The handsome youth
bearing' the caduceus, |
is the
philosophized intellect. The mastery of thought, which makes the nund a
servant of the spiritual |
self,
is the eleventh step of the old rite. |
|
The
whole phenomenal Universe against which the neophyte has stmggled through his
eleven strange |
and
arduous adventures is personified in the red-plumed man. Here the world is
making its last effort to |
hold
the escaping superman. The effort is vain. No chains forged of earth can
restrain or bind the |
Philosphical
Mercury. We are told that in the alchemical processes this subtile essence
can seep |
through
an iron vessel (the warrior) — or through glass or porcelain — and vanish, in
spite of every effort |
to
capture its quintessence. |
|
The
eleventh figure contains numerous extraordinary and impressive hieroglyphics.
The characters on |
the
shield include a crossed scythe and sceptre — signifying death and
resurrection, or mortality and |
sovereignty.
There is also the axe-blade, the hieroglyph of the hewer, the builder, or the
geometrician. |
The
smaller hieroglyphics mean egg and cave, and the lunar crescent may symbolize
either a lunar |
quarter
or a gateway. These symbols unquestionably refer to steps in the initiatory
drama. |
|
|
|
The
words in the panel at the top of the figure may be translated: "To be
the sign of the Leg with |
Everlastingness,
to pour out and to be the herald of destruction." The thought is
evidently prophetic, |
referring
to the destruction of the |
|
p.
114 |
|
unrighteous
in the sign of Aquarius, the constellation which rules the eleventh section
of the work. |
|
The
writing below the figures is purely mystical: "It is given that the evil
shall be trodden out in the |
sixth
portico." The soul, in its spiritual cycle of regeneration, crosses Irom
the lower to the upper |
hemisphere
of the zodiac at the end of the sixth sign, Virgo, or the Virgin. This virgin
is the mother of |
the
Messiahs. As physical generation begins in Aries, so the generation of the
wise begins with the |
Mother
(the Mysteries) from whom they are bom into the celestial hemisphere. The old
order cannot |
proceed
beyond the sixth gate, for the seventh is that of the new man or the second
birth — a mystery |
hinted
at in our inscription. |
|
Analysis
of the Text. |
|
The Initiate, departing irom the palace of the resurrection, sees
fluttering before him the mysterious |
bird Ampheercha which now, however, has the wings of the butterfly
added to its own. The Cabbalistic |
meaning of the bird's name is: "A mother shall bear the
likeness." The intellectual energy of the |
Hermetic Ibis is now perfected by soul power, represented by the
diaphanous wings of the butterfly. |
Apuleius created the Psyche myth as a method of setting forth the
Hermetic Marriage or the union of |
the reason with the perfected soul. This is the second Greater
Mystery: the accomplishment of the |
philosophic androgyne, in which the male and female principles of
wisdom — ^represented by the Ibis |
and the butterfly — are united in one creature. |
|
The Initiate is told to seize and affix the symbolic bird. For
nine days (degrees) the adept pursues the |
bird, which he finally forces to enter the tower named corruption.
The symbolism then continues, |
clothed in alchemical terms. The tower is the vessel for further
digestion, through which the elements |
of the Stone must pass before their final perfection. The Initiate
drives a steel nail through the wings of |
the bird. The name of the nail is an admonishment to make haste
and complete the operation. The bird |
is therefore crucified to the wheel, as was the dove of Semiramis,
or Ixion. The name of the hammer |
means to come forth and be manifest, an allusion to the strength
of will with which this final operation |
must be accomplished. |
|
Alchemically, the substance represented by the bird begins to
gleam in the retort. The luminous quality |
intimates that the soul power of the Stone is beginning to shine
triumphantly and that the arduous |
operations of the alchemist are about to be rewarded. |
|
The Initiate departs. Having completed the eleventh Mystery and
fixed the power of the soul-bird so |
that it can no more depart from him, he passes out between two
great pillars, and finds himself once |
more in the Hall of Wisdom. |
|
SECTION XII. |
|
(Figure Xn, page 76) The pilgrimage of the adept is at last
completed. In the heavens |
|