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The Key of the Mysteries
Original key entry by Bill Heidrick, GTG O.T.O.
Extracted from EQ-I-10.AS2/3 by Fr. NChSh, Uraeus-Hadit Camp, O.T.O.
Copyright © O.T.O.
O.T.O.
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(LA CLEF DES GRANDS MYSTERES)
BY
ELIPHAS LEVI
THE KEY OF THE MYSTERIES
ACCORDING TO
ENOCH, ABRAHAM, HERMES TRISMEGISTES
AND SOLOMON
BY
ELIPHAS LEVI
TRANSLATED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ALEISTER CROWLEY
"Religion says: --- 'Believe and you will understand.' Science comes to say to you: --- 'Understand you will believe.'
"At that moment the whole of science will change front; the spirit, so long dethroned and forgottwill take its ancient place; it will be demonstrated that the old traditions are all true, that tewoe of paganism is only a system of corrupted and misplaced truths, that it is sufficient to clens tem so to say, and to put them back again in their place, to see them shine with all their ray. n awor, all ideas will change, and since on all sides a multitude of the elect cry in concert,'Com, Lod, cme!' why should you blame the men who throw themselves forward into that majestic futre, ad prie theselves on having foreseen it?"
(J. De Maistre, "Soirees de St. Petersbourg.")
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE
IN the biographical and critical essay which Mr. Waite prefixes to his "Mysteries of Magic" he sa"A word must be added of the method of this digest, which claims to be something more than translto nd has been infinitely more laborious. I believe it to be in all respects faithful, and whereitha ben necessary or possible for it to be literal, there also it is invariably literal."
We agree that it is either more or less than translation, and the following examples selected at rd in the course of half-an-hour will enable the reader to judge whether Mr. Waite is acquainted ihether French or English:
"Gentilhomme" --- "Gentleman."
"The nameless vice which was reproached "against" the Templars."
"Certaines circonstances ridicules et un proces en escroquerie" --- "Certain ridiculous processes a swindling lawsuit."
"Se mele de dogmatiser" --- "Meddles with dogmatism."
"La vie pour lui suffisait a l'expiation des plus grands crimes, puis qu'elle etait la consequencun arret de mort" --- "According to him life was sufficient for the greatest crimes, since "these eethe result of a death sentence."
"Vos meilleurs amis ont du concevoir des inquietudes" --- "Your best friends have been reasonablyious." (The mistranslation here turns the speech into an insult.) {v}
"Sacro-sainte" --- "Sacred and saintly."
"Auriculaire" --- "Index."
"N'avez vous pas obtenu tout ce que vous demandiez, et plus que vous ne demandiez, car vous ne m'z pas parle d'argent?" --- "Have you not had all and more than you wanted, and there has been no usin of remuneration?" (This mistranslation makes nonsense of the whole passage.)
"Eliphas n'etait pas a la question" --- "Eliphas was not under cross- examination."
"Mauvais plaisant" --- "Vicious jester."
"Si vous n'aviez pas ... vous deviendriez" --- "If you have not ... you may become." (This mistration turns a compliment into an insult.)
"An awful and ineffaceable tableaux."
"Peripeties" --- "Circumstances."
"Il avait fait partie du clerge de Saint Germain l'Auxerrois" --- "He was of the Society of St. Gin l'Auxerrois."
"Bruit de tempete" --- "Stormy sound."
We are obliged to mention this matter, as Mr. Waite (by persistent self- assertion) has obtained reputation of being trustworthy as an editor. On the contrary, he not only mutilates and distortshsathors, but, as demonstrated above, he is totally incapable of understanding their simplest phrse ad ven their commonest words. {vi}
INTRODUCTION
THIS volume represents the high-water mark of the thought of Eliphas Levi. It may be regarded astten by him as his Thesis for the Grade of Exempt Adept, just as his "Ritual and Dogma" was his Tei or the grade of a Major Adept. He is, in fact, no longer talking of things as if their sense asfiedand universal. He is beginning to see something of the contradiction inherent in the natur ofthigs,or at any rate, he constantly illustrates the fact that the planes are to be kept separae fo pratica purposes, although in the final analysis they turn out to be one. This, and the extrordinrily ubtleand delicate irony of which Eliphas Levi is one of the greatest masters that has eer livd, hav baffld the pedantry and stupidity of such commentators as Waite. English has hardlya word o expres the mntal condition of such unfortunates. "Dummheit," in its strongest German sese, is aout the earest ting to it. It is as if a geographer should criticize "Gulliver's Travels from hisown partiular stanpoint.
When Levi says that all that he asserts as an initiate is subordinate to his humble submissivenes a Christian, and then not only remarks that the Bible and the Qur'an are different translations ftesame book, but treats the Incarnation as an allegory, it is evident that a good deal of submisio wllbe required. When he agrees with St. Augustine that a thing is not just because God wills t, ut od ills it because it is just, he sees perfectly well that he is reducing God to a poetic iage efleted rom his own moral {vii} ideal of justice, and no amount of alleged orthodoxy can weig agaist tht staement. His very defence of the Catholic Hierarchy is a masterpiece of that peculir formof concious ophistry which justifies itself by reducing its conclusion to zero. One must bgin wit "one,"and tha "one" has no particular qualities. Therefore, so long as you have an authoity proprly centalized i does not really matter what that authority is. In the Pope we have suchan authorty ready ade, and t is the gravest tactical blunder to endeavour to set up an authority pposed to im. Succes in doingso means war, and failure anarchy. This, however, did not prevent evi from ceemonially csting a papl crown to the ground and crying "Death to tyranny and superstiton!" in the osom of a cetain secret reopagus of which he was the most famous member.
When a man becomes a magician he looks about him for a magical weapon; and, being probably endoweth that human frailty called laziness, he hopes to find a weapon ready made. Thus we find the Chita Magus who imposed his power upon the world taking the existing worships and making a single sstm omining all their merits. There is no single feature in Christianity which has not been take boilyfro the worship of Isis, or of Mithras, or of Bacchus, or of Adonis, or of Osiris. In moden ties aain e find Frater Iehi Aour trying to handle Buddhism. Others again have attempted to us Freeasonr. Thre have been even exceptionally foolish magicians who have tried to use a sword log sinc ruste.
Wagner illustrates this point very clearly in "Siegfried." The Great Sword Nothung has been brokand it is the {viii} only weapon that can destroy the gods. The dwarf Mime tries uselessly to medi. When Siegfried comes he makes no such error. He melts its fragments and forges a new sword. Inspteof the intense labour which this costs, it is the best plan to adopt.
Levi completely failed to capture Catholicism; and his hope of using Imperialism, his endeavour trsuade the Emperor that he was the chosen instrument of the Almighty, a belief which would have ealdhim to play Maximus to little Napoleon's Julian, was shattered once for all at Sedan.
It is necessary for the reader to gain this clear conception of Levi's inmost mind, if he is to rcile the "contradictions" which leave Waite petulant and bewildered. It is the sad privilege of h iher order of mind to be able to see both sides of every question, and to appreciate the fact tatboh re equally tenable. Such contradictions can, of course, only be reconciled on a higher plae, nd hismethod of harmonizing contradictions is, therefore, the best key to the higher planes.
It seems unnecessary to add anything to these few remarks. This is the only difficulty in the whbook, though in one or two passages Levi's extraordinarily keen sense of humour leads him to indug na little harmless bombast. We may instance his remarks on the "Grimoire" of Honorius.
We have said that this is the masterpiece of Levi. He reaches an exaltation of both thought and uage which is equal to that of any other writer known to us. Once it is understood that it is pueyathesis for the Grade of Exempt Adept, the reader should have no further difficulty. --- A. C. ix
PREFACE
On the brink of mystery, the spirit of man is seized with giddiness. Mystery is the abyss which clessly attracts our unquiet curiosity by the terror of its depth.
The greatest mystery of the infinite is the existence of Him for whom alone all is without myster Comprehending the infinite which is essentially incomprehensible, He is Himself that infinite andenally unfathomable mystery; that is to say, that He is, in all seeming, that supreme absurdity i hchTertullian believed.
Necessarily absurd, since reason must renounce for ever the project of attaining to Him; necessarcredible, since science and reason, far from demonstrating that He does not exist, are dragged bytecariot of fatality to believe that He does exist, and to adore Him themselves with closed eyes. Wh? -- Because this Absurd is the infinite source of reason. The light springs eternally from he teral hadows. Science, that Babel Tower of the spirit, may twist and coil its spirals ever asendig asit wll; it may make the earth tremble, it will never touch the sky.
God is He whom we shall eternally learn to know better, and, consequently, He whom we shall neverw entirely.
The realm of mystery is, then, a field open to the conquests of the intelligence. March there asdly as you will, never will you diminish its extent; you will only alter {xi} its horizons. To ko l is an impossible dream; but woe unto him who dares not to learn all, and who does not know tht,inorer to know anything, one must learn eternally!
They say that in order to learn anything well, one must forget it several times. The world has fwed this method. Everything which is to-day debateable had been solved by the ancients. Before u nals began, their solutions, written in hieroglyphs, had already no longer any meaning for us. A anha rediscovered their key; he has opened the cemeteries of ancient science, and he gives to hs cntuy awhole world of forgotten theorems, of syntheses as simple and sublime as nature, radiatig alays rom nity, and multiplying themselves like numbers with proportions so exact, that the knon demnstraes an reveals the unknown. To understand this science, is to see God. The author of tis boo, as h finises his work, will think that he has demonstrated it.
Then, when you have seen God, the hierophant will say to you: --- "Turn round!" and, in the shadoich you throw in the presence of this sun of intelligences, there will appear to you the devil, ta lck phantom which you see when your gaze is not fixed upon God, and when you think that your shdo fll the sky, --- for the vapours of the earth, the higher they go, seem to magnify it more andmor.
To harmonize in the category of religion science with revelation and reason with faith, to demonse in philosophy the absolute principles which reconcile all the antinomies, and finally to revealteuiversal equilibrium of natural forces, is the triple object of this work, which will consequenlybediided into three parts. {xii}
We shall exhibit true religion with such characters, that no one, believer or unbeliever, can fai recognize it; that will be the absolute in religion. We shall establish in philosophy the immutbecaracters of that Truth, which is in science, "reality;" in judgment, "reason;" and in ethics, jutie. Finally, we shall acquaint you with the laws of Nature, whose equilibrium is stability, ad w shll how how vain are the phantasies of our imagination before the fertile realities of movemnt ad oflife We shall also invite the great poets of the future to create once more the divine cmedy,no loger acording to the dreams of man, but according to the mathematics of God.
Mysteries of other worlds, hidden forces, strange revelations, mysterious illnesses, exceptional lties, spirits, apparitions, magical paradoxes, hermetic arcana, we shall say all, and we shall epanall. Who has given us this power? We do not fear to reveal it to our readers.
There exists an occult and sacred alphabet which the Hebrews attribute to Enoch, the Egyptians toth or to Hermes Trismegistus, the Greeks to Cadmus and to Palamedes. This alphabet was known to h olowers of Pythagoras, and is composed of absolute ideas attached to signs and numbers; by its omintins, it realizes the mathematics of thought. Solomon represented this alphabet by seventy-tw naes,writen upon thirty-six talismans. Eastern initiates still call these the "little keys" or laviles f Soomon. These keys are described, and their use explained, in a book the source of whoe traitionl doga is the patriarch Abraham. This book is called the Sepher Yetzirah; with the aidof theSepherYetzirh one can penetrate the {xiii} hidden sense of the Zohar, the great dogmatic tratise o the Qaalah ofthe Hebrews. The Clavicles of Solomon, forgotten in the course of time, andsupposedlost, hae been rdiscovered by ourselves; without trouble we have opened all the doors of hose old anctuarie where abolute truth seemed to sleep, --- always young, and always beautiful, lke that prncess of te childishlegend, who, during a century of slumber, awaits the bridegroom whoe mission i is to awakn her.
After our book, there will still be mysteries, but higher and farther in the infinite depths. Thublication is a light or a folly, a mystification or a monument. Read, reflect, and judge.
{xiv}
THE KEY OF THE MYSTERIES
(LA CLEF DES GRANDS MYSTERES)
BY
ELIPHAS LEVI
{xv}
PART I
RELIGIOUS MYSTERIES
PROBLEMS FOR SOLUTION
I. --- To demonstrate in a certain and absolute manner the existence of God, and to give an idea im which will satisfy all minds.
II. --- To establish the existence of a true religion in such a way as to render it incontestable III. --- To indicate the bearing and the "raison d'etre" of all the mysteries of the one true andnvrsal religion.
IV. --- To turn the objections of philosophy into arguments favourable to true religion.
V. --- To draw the boundary between religion and superstition, and to give the reason of miracles prodigies.
PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS
WHEN Count Joseph de Maistre, that grand and passionate lover of Logic, said despairingly, "The w is without religion," he resembled those people who say rashly "There is no God."
The world, in truth, is without the religion of Count Joseph de Maistre, as it is probable that sa God as the majority of atheists conceive does not exist.
Religion is an idea based upon one constant and universal {1} fact; man is a religious animal. Tord "religion" has then a necessary and absolute sense. Nature herself sanctifies the idea whichti ord represents, and exalts it to the height of a principle.
The need of believing is closely linked with the need of loving; for that reason our souls need cnion in the same hopes and in the same love. Isolated beliefs are only doubts: it is the bond ofmta confidence which, by creating faith, composes religion.
Faith does not invent itself, does not impose itself, does not establish itself by any political ement; like life, it manifests itself with a sort of fatality. The same power which directs the hnmna of nature, extends and limits the supernatural domain of faith, despite all human foresight nedos not imagine revelations; one undergoes then, and one believes in them. In vain does the pirt potet against the obscurities of dogma; it is subjugated by the attraction of these very obsurites, nd oten the least docile of reasoners would blush to accept the title of "irreligious man"
Religion holds a greater place among the realities of life than those who do without religion ---pretend to do without it --- affect to believe. All ideas that raise man above the animal --- moa oe, devotion, honour --- are sentiments essentially religious. The cult of the fatherland and f hefaily, fidelity to an oath and to memory, are things which humanity will never abjure withoutdegadig iself utterly, and which could never exist without the belief in something greater than mrtallife wit all its vicissitudes, its ignorance and its misery.
If annihilation were the result of all our aspirations to {2} those sublime things which we feel e eternal, our only duties would be the enjoyment of the present, forgetfulness of the past, and aeesness about the future, and it would be rigorously true to say, as a celebrated sophist once sid tatthe man who thinks is a degraded animal.
Moreover, of all human passions, religious passion is the most powerful and the most lively. It rates itself, whether by affirmation or negation, with an equal fanaticism, some obstinately affimn he god that they have made in their own image, the others denying God with rashness, as if the hd ee able to understand and to lay waste by a single thought all that world of infinity which prtans o Hs great name.
Philosophers have not sufficiently considered the physiological fact of religion in humanity, fortruth religion exists apart from all dogmatic discussion. It is a faculty of the human soul justa uh as intelligence and love. While man exists, so will religion. Considered in this light, itisnohig but the need of an infinite idealism, a need which justifies every aspiration for progres, wichinsires every devotion, which alone prevents virtue and honour from being mere words, servig toexplit te vanity of the weak and the foolish to the profit of the strong and the clever.
It is to this innate need of belief that one might justly give the name of natural religion; and which tends to clip the wings of these beliefs is, on the religious plane, in opposition to natur. h essence of the object of religion is mystery, since faith begins with the unknown, abandoningth rstto the investigations of science. Doubt is, moreover, the mortal enemy of faith; faith fees tat he ntervention of {3} the divine being is necessary to fill the abyss which separates the fnitefromthe nfinite, and it affirms this intervention with all the warmth of its heart, with all he doilityof it intelligence. If separated from this act of faith, the need of religion finds nosatisfction,and tuns to scepticism and to despair. But in order that the act of faith should notbe an at of foly, reaon wishes it to be directed and ruled. By what? By science? We have seen hat sciece can d nothinghere. By the civil authority? It is absurd. Are our prayers to be supeintended y policemn?
There remains, then, moral authority, which alone is able to constitute dogma and establish the dpline of worship, in concert this time with the civil authority, but not in obedience to its ordes I is necessary, in a word, that faith should give to the religious need a real satisfaction, -- asaisaction entire, permanent and indubitable. To obtain that, it is necessary to have the absouteandinvriable affirmation of a dogma preserved by an authorized hierarchy. It is necessary to ave n eficacous cult, giving, with an absolute faith, a substantial realization of the symbols ofbelie.
Religion thus understood being the only one which can satisfy the natural need of religion, it mue the only really natural religion. We arrive, without help from others, at this double definitin ht true natural religion is revealed religion. The true revealed religion is the hierarchical ndtrdiional religion, which affirms itself absolutely, above human discussion, by communion in fath,hop, ad charity.
Representing the moral authority, and realizing it by the efficacy of its ministry, the priesthoo as holy and infallible as humanity is subject to vice and to error. The priest, {4} "qua" pries,i lways the representative of God. Of little account are the faults or even the crimes of man. Whn leander VI consecrated his bishops, it was not the poisoner who laid his hands upon them, it as he ope Pope Alexander VI never corrupted or falsified the dogmas which condemned him, or the acraentswhic in his hands saved others, and did not justify him. At all times and in all places here ave ben lirs and criminals, but in the hierarchical and divinely authorized Church there hav neverbeen, nd thee will never be, either bad popes or bad priests. "Bad" and "priest" form an oymoron. We hve mentoned Alexander VI, and we think that this name will be sufficient without other memoes as jutly execated as his being brought up against us. Great criminals have been able to dishoor themseles doublybecause of the sacred character with which they were invested, but they had no te power todishonour hat character, which remains always radiant and splendid above fallen humanty.<A dog has ix legs. Dfinition. It is no answer to this to show that all dogs have four. --- .M.>
We have said that there is no religion without mysteries; let us add that there are no mysteries out symbols. The symbol, being the formula or the expression of the mystery, only expresses its nnw depth by paradoxical images borrowed from the known. The symbolic form, having for its objec t carcterize what is above scientific reason, should necessarily find itself without that reason hece he elebrated and perfectly just remark of a Father of the Church: "I believe because it is bsur. Cedo uia absurdum."
If science were to affirm what it did not know, it would {5} destroy itself. Science will then n be able to perform the work of faith, any more than faith can decide in a matter of science. Anafration of faith with which science is rash enough to meddle can then be nothing but an absurdit fr t,just as a scientific statement, if given us as an article of faith, would be an absurdity o th reigius plane. To know and to believe are two terms which can never be confounded.
It would be equally impossible to oppose the one to the other. It is impossible, in fact, to bel the contrary of what one knows without ceasing, for that very reason, to know it; and it is equal mossible to achieve a knowledge contrary to what one believes without ceasing immediately to beiee. To deny or even to contest the decisions of faith in the name of science is to prove that one undtans neither science nor faith: in fine, the mystery of a God of three persons is not a problem o ahemaics; the incarnation of the Word is not a phenomenon in obstetrics; the scheme of redemptio sans apat from the criticism of the historian. Science is absolutely powerless to decide whethe weareright r wrong in believing or disbelieving dogma; it can only observe the results of belief andif fith eviently improves men, if, moreover, faith is in itself, considered as a physiologica fact evidntly a ncessity and a force, science will certainly be obliged to admit it, and take th wise art ofalways rekoning with it.
Let us now dare to affirm that there exists an immense fact equally appreciable both by faith andence; a fact which makes God visible (in a sense) upon earth; a fact incontestable and of universlbaing; this fact is the manifestation in the world, beginning from the epoch when the {6} Christanreeltion was made, of a spirit unknown to the ancients, of a spirit evidently divine, more posiivetha scence in its works, in its aspirations, more magnificently ideal than the highest poetry,a sprit or wich it was necessary to create a new name, a name altogether unheard<<Who, however, hd theword aid aide against the time when Paul should give it a meaning. --- O.M.>> in the sanctuaies ofantiquty. Tis name was created, and we shall demonstrate that this name, this word, is, inreligio, as muh for sience as for faith, the expression of the absolute. The word is CHARITY, an the spiit of whch we spak is the "spirit of charity."
Before charity, faith prostrates itself, and conquered science bows. There is here evidently someg greater than humanity; charity proves by its works that it is not a dream. It is stronger thanalte passions; it triumphs over suffering and over death; it makes God understood by every heart,an sem already to fill eternity by the begun realization of its legitimate hopes.
Before charity alive and in action who is the Proudhon who dares blaspheme? Who is the Voltaire dares laugh?
Pile one upon the other the sophisms of Diderot, the critical arguments of Strauss, the "Ruins" olney, so well named, for this man could make nothing but "ruins," the blasphemies of the revolutinwoe voice was extinguished once in blood, and once again in the silence of contempt; join to it lltht he future may hold for us of monstrosities and of vain dreams; then will there come the humles an th simplest of all sisters of charity, --- the world will leave there all its follies, andall ts cimes and all its dreams, to bow before this sublime reality. {7}
Charity! word divine, sole word which makes God understood, word which contains a universal reveln! "Spirit" of "charity," alliance of two words, which are a complete solution and a complete prms! To what question, in fine, do these two words not find an answer?
What is God for us, if not the spirit of charity? What is orthodoxy? Is it not the spirit of cha which refuses to discuss faith lest it should trouble the confidence of simple souls, and distur h eace of universal communion?<<Sublime houmour of sophistry! Levi asserts, "Any lie will serve povde every one acquiesces in it," and reprehends Christianity for disturbing the peace of Pagansm. "O," ndicates that Christianity is but syncretic-eclectic Paganism, and defends it on this grund.--- .M.> And the universal church, is it any other thing than a communion in the spirit of carity It s by he spirit of charity that the church is infallible. It is the spirit of charity wich isthe diine vitue of the priesthood.
Duty of man, guarantee of his rights, proof of his immortality, eternity of happiness commencing him upon the earth, glorious aim given to his existence, goal and path of all his struggles, perfcinof his individual, civil and religious morality, the spirit of charity understands all, and isabe o ope all, undertake all, and accomplish all.
It is by the spirit of charity that Jesus expiring on the cross gave a son to His mother in the pn of St. John, and, triumphing over the anguish of the most frightful torture, gave a cry of delieac and of salvation, saying, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!"
It is by charity that twelve Galilean artisans conquered the world; they loved truth more than liand they went without followers to speak it to peoples and to kings; tested by torture, {8} they eefund faithful. They showed to the multitude a living immortality in their death, and they wateedth erth with a blood whose heat could not be extinguished, because they were burning with the adous o chrity.
It is by charity that the Apostles built up their Creed. They said that to believe together was h more than to doubt separately; they constituted the hierarchy on the basis of obedience --- renee o noble and so great by the spirit of charity, that to serve in this manner is to reign; they orulte the faith of all and the hope of all, and they put this Creed in the keeping of the charit ofall We to the egoist who appropriates to himself a single word of this inheritance of the Wor; heis adeicde, who wishes to dismember the body of the Lord.
This creed is the holy ark of charity; whoso touches it is stricken by eternal death, for charityhdraws itself from him. It is the sacred inheritance of our children, it is the price of the blodo ur fathers!
It is by charity that the martyrs took consolation in the prisons of the Caesars, and won over toir belief even their warders and their executioners.
It is in the name of charity that St. Martin of Tours protested against the torture of the Priscins,<<The Priscillianist heresy was disturbing the Church, especially in Spain. The Emperor Maxims paniard, was inclined to put it down with a strong hand and confiscate the heretics' property. Te alic clergy hounded him on, and the Councils of Bordeaux and Saragossa encouraged him. Two Sanih piess, "Ithacus" and "Idacus," clamoured for the heretics' punishment by the secular arm. Bt St Marin o Tours, stalwart champion of orthodoxy as he was, resisted, and in 385 he went to Trees topleadfor te persecuted Priscillianists. He prevailed. So long as Martin stayed at court theIthaca partywas foled. When he left they had the upper hand again, and Maximus gave the suppresson of te heretcs intothe hands of the unrelenting Evodious. Priscillian was killed. Exile and dath werethe fateof his fllowers. Heresy blazed the stronger, and a worse persecution was threateed. ThenSt. Marti left hiscell at Marmontier, and set out a second time to Treves. News of the ld man comng along te road on is ass reached his enemies. They met him at the gate and refused hm entrance. "But," sai Martin, "Icome with the peace of Jesus Christ." And such was the power ofthis presenc that they culd not clos the city gates against him. But the palace doors were close. Martin refsed to see th Ithacans or o receive the Communion with them, and their fury at this s eloquent tesimony of theirsense of his pwer. They appealed to Maximus, who delivered over Martn bound to them But in the niht Maximus sentfor Martin, argued, coaxed, persuaded him to compromse. The schism ould be great, h persisted, if Mrtin continued to exasperate the Ithacans. Marti said he had nothng to do with perecutors. In wrat the Emperor let him go, and gave orders to th Tribunes to depar to Spain and carr out a rigorous Inuisition. Then Martin returned to Maximus nd bargained. Let his order be revoke, and he would receve Communion with the Ithacans next day t the election of th new Archbishop. Th order was revoked, nd Martin kept his word. But when heknew the cause of Humnity safe, he departe, and on his way backto Tours experienced a great agony Why had he had dealigs with the Ithacans? In a lonely place he pndered sadly. An angel spoke t him. "Martin, you do rght to be sad, but it ws the only way." Neveragain did he go to any councl. He was wont to say wth tears that if he had aved the heretics he himelf had lost power over mn and over demons.
They have outraged the meaning of the episode who explain Martin's protest as merely against the ender of the Church to Secular Power. It was "lese-humanite" of which he held the Ithacans guilt. t. Martin of Tours was often called Martin the Thaumaturgist. He was noted for his power over amas.> and separated {9} himself from the communion of the tyrant who wished to impose faith by th wor.
It is by charity that so great a crowd of saints have forced the world to accept them as expiatior the crimes committed in the name of religion itself, and the scandals of the profaned sanctuary
It is by charity that St. Vincent de Paul and Fenelon compelled the admiration of even the most ius centuries, and quelled in advance the laughter of the children of Voltaire before the imposingdgiy of their virtues. 10}
It is by charity, finally, that the folly of the cross has become the wisdom of the nations, becaevery noble heart has understood that it is greater to believe with those who love, and who devot hmelves, than to doubt with the egotists and with the slaves of pleasure. {11}
FIRST ARTICLE
SOLUTION OF THE FIRST PROBLEM
THE TRUE GOD
GOD can only be defined by faith; science can neither deny nor affirm that He exists.
God is the absolute object of human faith. In the infinite, He is the supreme and creative intelnce of order. In the world, He is the spirit of charity.
Is the Universal Being a fatal machine which eternally grinds down intelligences by chance, or a idential intelligence which directs forces in order to ameliorate minds?
The first hypothesis is repugnant to reason; it is pessimistic and immoral.
Science and reason ought then to accept the second.
Yes, Proudhon, God is an hypothesis, but an hypothesis so necessary, that without it, all theoremcome absurd or doubtful.
For initiates of the Qabalah, God is the absolute unity which creates and animates numbers.
The unity of the human intelligence demonstrates the unity of God.
The key of numbers is that of creeds, because signs are {12} analogical figures of the harmony whproceeds from numbers.
Mathematics could never demonstrate blind fatality, because they are the expression of the exacti which is the character of the highest reason.
Unity demonstrates the analogy of contraries; it is the foundation, the equilibrium, and the end umbers. The act of faith starts from unity, and returns to unity.
{Illustration on page 13 described:
This is titled below: "THE SIGN OF THE GRAND ARCANUM G.'. A.'."
The figure is contained within a rectangle of width about half height. The main element is a circlettom half shaded, pierced through on the vertical diameter from below by a vertical sword or bato. h "sword" has a right hand holding the pommel below, issuing from a cloud to lower right. The hltisno evident simply, but suggested by two tails of serpents crossing just below the lower limitof he irce. To either side of the pommel beneath the snake tails are the letters "FIN" to left ad "A" torigh. The point of the sword above the upper limit of the circle is buttoned by a fleur-e-lis Thetwo srpents are entwined about the sword to form a caduceus with two circles verticallycircumcribedwithinthe greater circle. These serpents are billed. There are two shaded bands on he two orizontl diameers of the serpent circles. Five Hebrew letters are along the sword, only te topmos upon th blade ad the others beneath: Top quarter --- HB:Yod , next quarter --- HB:Aleph center -- HB:Shin, next qurter is probably but not certainly HB:Mem , bottom quarter is an invered HB:Heh The uppe half of te upper serpent circle has Aleph-Heh-Yod-Heh just above the diamete bar, and te lower quater of the ower serpent circle has the same inverted just below the diamete bar. There s an "X" of
thin line diameters across the large circle. At the horizontal diameter of the large circle, just a to the left "THROSNE" and to the right "DE JVSTICE". Oriented about the circle to be read from h eter are the following words: At left outside "COVRONNE", at top and split "MED" "IATE", at rigt ECESASTIQVE", at bottom and split "DIR" "ECTE". Two words in italics extend just above the horzonal iamter in invisible extensis and through the rectangle: to left "HARMONIE", to right "CEELETE". Aboe th button of the sword is a small circle, and to the left of that "Tzaddi-Dalet-Qof", t the ight Peh-Lmed-Kophfinal" (possibly "Mem-Lamed-Kophfinal" or "Samekh-Lamed-Kophfinal"). Belo this,interrpted b the button are two texts: to the right: "(?)Aleph-Samekh-Peh-Kophfinal Bet-Shi-Vau-Shn-Nunfial Heh-et-Yod-Resh " (First word doubtful, text referred to Dan. 8, where it must b alteredfrom Dan 8, 2: "au-Aleph-Nun-Yod Bet-Shin-Vau-Shin-Nunfinal Heh-Bet-Yod-Resh-Heh" "I wa in Shushn castle" This vaiant could be translated as "sheath in Shushan castle".) Beneath this "DANIEL c. 8." Thetext to th left cannot be rendered accurately owing to similarity of letter sapes and nodirect bearng to the txt cited. It looks like: "Aleph-Taw-Tet-Dalet-Resh-Vau-Shin Saekh-Resh-VauKoph-Yod", bt that is no likely to be even close. Beneath this is the citation "Neheme ch.1 v.1" wich does not ontain any pat of this versicle, but which does mention the castle at Susah, cited inthe versicle t the right. Pssibly the whole thing is a continuation of a paraphras of Daniel 8, 2 with the text nclear because f letter shapes poorly written. Lastly, to the leftoutside of the uper serpent circe: "SENS"; and t the right inside the same: "RASON" --- both orieted to be read frm the center.} {1}
We shall now sketch out an explanation of the Bible by the aid of numbers, for the Bible is the bof the images of God.
We shall ask numbers to give us the reason of the dogmas of eternal religion; numbers will alwaysly by reuniting themselves in the synthesis of unity.
The following pages are simply outlines of qabalistic hypotheses; they stand apart from faith, an indicate them only as curiosities of research. It is no part of our task to make innovations indga and what we assert in our character as an initiate is entirely subordinate to our submission n urchracter as a Christian.<<This passage is typical of the sublime irony of Levi, and the key t th whle f his paradoxes. --- TRANS.>>
SKETCH OF THE PROPHETIC THEOLOGY
OF NUMBERS
I
UNITY
UNITY is the principle and the synthesis of numbers; it is the idea of God and of man; it is the ance of reason and of faith.
Faith cannot be opposed to reason; it is made necessary by love, it is identical with hope. To lis to believe and hope; and this triple outburst of the soul is called virtue, because, in order omk it, courage is necessary. But would there be any courage in that, if doubt were not possible ow t be able to doubt, is to doubt. Doubt is the force {14} which balances faith, and it consttuts te wole merit of faith.
Nature herself induces us to believe; but the formulae of faith are social expressions of the tenies of faith at a given epoch. It is that which proves the Church to be infallible, evidentiallyadi fact.
God is necessarily the most unknown of all beings because He is only defined by negative experienHe is all that we are not, He is the infinite opposed to the finite by hypothesis.
Faith, and consequently hope and love, are so free that man, far from being able to impose them ohers, does not even impose them on himself.
"These," says religion, "are graces." Now, is it conceivable that grace should be subject to demor exaction; that is to say, could any one wish to force men to a thing which comes freely and wihu rice from heaven? One must not do more than desire it for them.
To reason concerning faith is to think irrationally, since the object of faith is outside the unie of reason. If one asks me: --- "Is there a God?" I reply, "I believe it." "But are you sure o t"--- "If I were sure of it, I should not believe it, I should know it."
The formulation of faith is to agree upon the terms of the common hypothesis.
Faith begins where science ends. To enlarge the scope of science is apparently to diminish that aith; but in reality, it is to enlarge it in equal proportion, for it is to amplify its base.
One can only define the unknown by its supposed and supposable relations with the known. {15}
Analogy was the sole dogma of the ancient magi. This dogma may indeed be called "mediator," for s half scientific, half hypothetical; half reason, and half poetry. This dogma has been, and wil las be, the father of all others.
What is the Man-God? He who realizes, in the most human life, the most divine ideal.
Faith is a divination of intelligence and of love, when these are directed by the pointings of na and of reason.
It is then of the essence of the things of faith to be inaccessible to science, doubtful for philhy, and undefined for certainty.
Faith is an hypothetical realization and a conventional determination of the last aims of hope. s the attachment to the visible sign of the things which one does not see.
"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."
To affirm without folly that God is or that He is not, one must begin with a reasonable or unreasle definition of God. Now, this definition, in order to be reasonable, must be hypothetical, anaoia, and the negation of the known finite. It is possible to deny a particular God, but the absout Gd an no more be denied than He can be proved; He is a reasonable supposition in whom one belives
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God," said the Master; to see with the heart i believe; and if this faith is attached to the true good, it can never be deceived, provided thati os not seek to define too much in accordance with the dangerous inductions which spring from pesoaligorance. Our judgments in questions of faith apply to {16} ourselves; it will be done to usas e hve elieved; that is to say, we create ourselves in the image of our ideal.
"Those who make their gods become like unto them," says the psalmist, "and all they that put theiust in them."
The divine ideal of the ancient world made the civilization which came to an end, and one must nospair of seeing the god of our barbarous fathers become the devil of our more enlightened childre. n makes devils with cast-off gods,<<Christianity has fallen, and so Christ has already become te deil to such thinkers as Nietzsche and Crowley. --- O.M.>> and Satan is only so incoherent and o frmlss ecause he is made up of all the rags of ancient theogonies. He is the sphinx without a ecre, th ridle without an answer, the mystery without truth, the absolute without reality and witout lght.
Man is the son of God because God, manifested, realized, and incarnated upon earth, called Himsele Son of man.
It is after having made God in the image of His intelligence and of His love, that humanity has ustood the sublime Word who said "Let there be light!"
Man is the form of the divine thought, and God is the idealized synthesis of human thought.
Thus the Word of God reveals man, and the Word of man reveals God.
Man is the God of the world, and God is the man of heaven.
Before saying "God wills," man has willed.
In order to understand and honour Almighty God, man must first be free.
Had he obeyed and abstained from the fruit of the tree of knowledge through fear, man would have innocent and {17} stupid as the lamb, sceptical and rebellious as the angel of light. He himsel u he umbilical cord of his simplicity, and, falling free upon the earth, dragged God with him inhi fll
And therefore, from this sublime fall, he rises again glorious, with the great convict of Calvaryd enters with Him into the kingdom of heaven.
For the kingdom of heaven belongs to intelligence and love, both children of liberty.
God has shown liberty to man in the image of a lovely woman, and in order to test his courage, Hee the phantom of death pass between her and him.
Man loved, and felt himself to be God; he gave for her what God had just bestowed upon him --- etl hope.
He leapt towards his bride across the shadow of death.
Man possessed liberty; he had embraced life.
Expiate now thy glory, O Prometheus!
Thy heart, ceaselessly devoured, cannot die; it is thy vulture, it is Jupiter, who will die!
One day we shall awake at last from the painful dreams of a tormented life; our ordeal will be fied, and we shall be sufficiently strong against sorrow to be immortal.
Then we shall live in God with a more abundant life, and we shall descend into His works with theht of His thought, we shall be borne away into the infinite by the whisper of His love.
We shall be without doubt the elder brethren of a new race, the angels of posterity.
Celestial messengers, we shall wander in immensity, and the stars will be our gleaming ships. {18 We shall transform ourselves into sweet visions to calm weeping eyes; we shall gather radiant lilsi unknown meadows, and we shall scatter their dew upon the earth.
We shall touch the eyelid of the sleeping child, and rejoice the heart of its mother with the spele of the beauty of her well-beloved son!
II
THE BINARY
THE binary is more particularly the number of woman, mate of man and mother of society.
Man is love in intelligence; woman is intelligence in love.
Woman is the smile of the Creator content with himself, and it is after making her that He restedys the divine parable.
Woman stands before man because she is mother, and all is forgiven her in advance, because she br forth in sorrow.
Woman initiated herself first into immortality through death; then man saw her to be so beautifuld understood her to be so generous, that he refused to survive her, and loved her more than his lf,mre than his eternal happiness.
Happy outlaw, since she has been given to him as companion in his exile!
But the children of Cain have revolted against the mother of Abel; they have enslaved their mothe The beauty of woman has become a prey for the brutality of such men as cannot love.
Thus woman closed her heart as if it were a secret sanctuary, and said to men unworthy of her: "Ivirgin, {19} but I will to become mother, and my son will teach you to love me."
O Eve! Salutation and adoration in thy fall!
O Mary! Blessings and adoration in thy sufferings and in thy glory!
Crucified and holy one who didst survive thy God that thou mightst bury thy son, be thou for us tinal word of the divine revelation!
Moses called God "Lord"; Jesus called Him "My Father," and we, thinking of thee, may say to Provie, "You are our mother."
Children of woman, let us forgive fallen woman!
Children of woman, let us adore regenerate woman!
Children of woman, who have slept upon her breast, been cradled in her arms, and consoled by her sses, let us love her, and let us love each other!
III
THE TERNARY
THE Ternary is the number of creation.
God creates Himself eternally, and the infinite which He fills with His works is an incessant andinite creation.
Supreme love contemplates itself in beauty as in a mirror, and It essays all forms as adornments, It is the lover of life.
Man also affirms himself and creates himself; he adorns himself with his trophies of victory, he ghtens himself with his own conceptions, he clothes himself with his works as with a wedding garmn.{0}
The great week of creation has been imitated by human genius, divining the forms of nature.
Every day has furnished a new revelation, every new king of the world has been for a day the imagd the incarnation of God! Sublime dream which explains the mysteries of India, and justifies allsmoisms!
The lofty conception of the man-God corresponds to the creation of Adam, and Christianity, like tirst days of man in the earthly paradise, has been only an aspiration and a widowhood.
We wait for the worship of the bride and of the mother; we shall aspire to the wedding of the Newenant.
Then the poor, the blind, the outlaws of the old world will be invited to the feast, and will rec a wedding garment. They will gaze the one upon the other with inexpressible tenderness and a sml ht is ineffable because they have wept so long.
IV
THE QUATERNARY
THE Quaternary is the number of force. It is the ternary completed by its product, the rebelliouity reconciled to the sovereign trinity.
In the first fury of life, man, having forgotten his mother, no longer understood God but as an ixible and jealous father.
The sombre Saturn, armed with his parricidal scythe, set himself to devour his children.
Jupiter had eyebrows which shook Olympus; Jehovah wielded thunders which deafened the solitudes onai. {21}
Nevertheless, the father of men, being on occasion drunken like Noah, let the world perceive the eries of life.
Psyche, made divine by her torments, became the bride of Eros; Adonis, raised from death, found a his Venus in Olympus; Job, victorious over evil, recovered more than he had lost.
The law is a test of courage.
To love life more than one fears the menaces of death is to merit life.
The elect are those who dare; woe to the timid!
Thus the slaves of law, who make themselves the tyrants of conscience and the servants of fear, ahose who begrudge that man should hope, and the Pharisees of all the synagogues and of all the chrhs are those who receive the reproofs and the curses of the Father.
Was not the Christ excommunicated and crucified by the synagogue?
Was not Savonarola burned by the order of the sovereign pontiff of the Christian religion?
Are not the Pharisees to-day just what they were in the time of Caiaphas?
If any one speaks to them in the name of intelligence and love, will they listen?
In rescuing the children of liberty from the tyranny of the Pharaohs, Moses inaugurated the reignthe Father.
In breaking the insupportable yoke of mosaic pharisaism, Jesus welcomed all men to the brotherhoo the only son of God.
When the last ideals fall, when the last material chains of conscience break, when the last of thhat killed the {22} prophets and the last of them that stifled the Word are confounded, then willb h reign of the Holy Ghost.
Then, Glory to the Father who drowned the host of Pharaoh in the Red Sea!
Glory to the Son, who tore the veil of the temple, and whose cross, overweighing the crown of thesars, broke the forehead of the Caesars against the earth!
Glory to the Holy Ghost, who shall sweep from the earth by His terrible breath all the thieves anl the executioners, to make room for the banquet of the children of God!
Glory to the Holy Ghost, who has promised victory over earth and over heaven to the angel of libe
The angel of liberty was born before the dawn of the first day, before even the awakening of inteence, and God called him the morning star.
O Lucifer! Voluntarily and disdainfully thou didst detach thyself from the heaven where the sun ned thee in his splendour, to plow with thine own rays the unworked fields of night!
Thou shinest when the sun sets, and thy sparkling gaze precedes the daybreak!
Thou fallest to rise again; thou tastest of death to understand life better!
For the ancient glories of the world, thou art the evening star; for truth renascent, the lovely of dawn.
Liberty is not licence, for licence is tyranny.
Liberty is the guardian of duty, because it reclaims right.<<Right --- 'droit' --- a word much indence at the time, with no true English equivalent, save in such phrases as 'the right to work.' B telf it is only used in the plural, which will not do here, and throughout this treatise. --- TAN.>
Lucifer, of whom the dark ages have made the genius of {23} evil, will be truly the angel of lighen, having conquered liberty at the price of infamy, he will make use of it to submit himself to tra order, inaugurating thus the glories of voluntary obedience.
Right is only the root of duty; one must possess in order to give.
This is how a lofty and profound poetry explains the fall of the angels.
God hath given to His spirits light and life; then He said to them: "Love!"
"What is --- to love?" replied the spirits.
"To love is to give oneself to others," replied God. "Those who love will suffer, but they will oved."
"We have the right to give nothing, and we wish to suffer nothing," said the spirits, hating love "Remain in your right," answered God, "and let us separate! I and Mine wish to suffer and even tde to love. It is our duty!"
The fallen angel is then he who, from the beginning, refused to love; he does not love, and that is whole torture; he does not give, and that is his poverty; he does not suffer, and that is his ohnness; he does not die, and that is his exile.
The fallen angel is not Lucifer the light-bearer; it is Satan, who calumniated love.
To be rich is to give; to give nothing is to be poor; to live is to love; to love nothing is to bad; to be happy is to devote oneself; to exist only for oneself is to cast away oneself, and to eieoeself in hell.
Heaven is the harmony of generous thoughts; hell is the conflict of cowardly instincts. {24}
The man of right is Cain who kills Abel from envy; the man of duty is Abel who dies for Cain for .
And such has been the mission of Christ, the great Abel of humanity.
It is not for right that we should dare all, it is for duty.
Duty is the expansion and the enjoyment of liberty; isolated right is the father of slavery.
Duty is devotion; right is selfishness.
Duty is sacrifice; right is theft and rapine.
Duty is love, and right is hate.
Duty is infinite life; right is eternal death.
If one must fight to conquer right, it is only to acquire the power of duty: what use have we foredom, unless to love and to devote ourselves to God?
If one must break the law, it is when law imprisons love in fear.
"He that saveth his life shall lose it," says the holy Book; "and he who consents to lose it wille it."
Duty is love; perish every obstacle to love! Silence, ye oracles of hate! Destruction to the fagods of selfishness and fear! Shame to the slaves, the misers of love!
God loves prodigal children!
V
THE QUINARY
THE Quinary is the number of religion, for it is the number of God united to that of woman.<<Almooo visible a sneer of the Atheist and woman-despiser. --- O.M.>> {25}
Faith is not the stupid credulity of an awestruck ignorance.
Faith is the consciousness and the confidence of Love.
Faith is the cry of reason, which persists in denying the absurd, even in the presence of the unk.
Faith is a sentiment necessary to the soul, just as breathing is to life; it is the dignity of coe, and the reality of enthusiasm.
Faith does not consist of the affirmation of this symbol or that, but of a genuine and constant aation towards the truths which are veiled by all symbolisms.
If a man rejects an unworthy idea of divinity, breaks its false images, revolts against hateful iters, you will call him an atheist!
The authors of the persecutions in fallen Rome called the first Christians atheists, because they not adore the idols of Caligula or of Nero.
To deny a religion, even to deny all religions rather than adhere to formulae which conscience res, is a courageous and sublime act of faith. Every man who suffers for his convictions is a martro aith.
He explains himself badly, it may be, but he prefers justice and truth to everything; do not condhim without understanding him.
To believe in the supreme truth is not to define it, and to declare that one believes in it is toognize that one does not know it.
The Apostle St. Paul declares all faith contained in these two things: --- To believe that God isd that He rewards them who seek Him. {26}
Faith is a greater thing than all religions, because it states the articles of belief with less psion.
Any dogma constitutes but a belief, and belongs to our particular communion; faith is a sentimentch is common to the whole of humanity.
The more one discusses with the object of obtaining greater accuracy, the less one believes; everw dogma is a belief which a sect appropriates to itself, and thus, in some sort, steals from univra aith.
Let us leave sectarians to make and remake their dogmas; let us leave the superstitious to detail formulate their superstitions. As the Master said, "Let the dead bury their dead!" Let us beliv nthe indicible truth; let us believe in that Absolute which reason admits without understandingit lt s believe in what we feel without knowing it!
Let us believe in the supreme reason!
Let us believe in Infinite Love, and pity the stupidities of scholasticism and the barbarities ofse religion!
O man! Tell me what thou hopest, and I will tell thee what thou art worth.
Thou dost pray, thou dost fast, thou dost keep vigil; dost thou then believe that so thou wilt es alone, or almost alone, from the enormous ruin of mankind --- devoured by a jealous God? Thou atipous, and a hypocrite.
Dost thou turn life into an orgie, and hope for the slumber of nothingness? Thou art sick, and isate.
Art thou ready to suffer as others and for others, and hope for the salvation of all? Thou art ae and just man.
To hope is to fear not.
To be afraid of God, what blasphemy! {27}
The act of hope is prayer.
Prayer is the flowering of the soul in eternal wisdom and in eternal love.
It is the gaze of the spirit towards truth, and the sigh of the heart towards supreme beauty.
It is the smile of the child upon its mother.
It is the murmur of the lover, who reaches out towards the kisses of his mistress.
It is the soft joy of a loving soul as it expands in an ocean of love.
It is the sadness of the bride in the absence of the bridegroom.
It is the sigh of the traveller who thinks of his fatherland.
It is the thought of the poor man who works to support his wife and children.
Let us pray in silence; let us raise toward our unknown Father a look of confidence and of love; us accept with faith and resignation the part which He assigns to us in the toils of life, and evr hob of our hearts will be a word of prayer!
Have we need to inform God of what we ask from Him? Does not He know what is necessary for us?
If we weep, let us offer Him our tears; if we rejoice, let us turn towards Him our smile; if He s us, let us bow the head; if He caress us, let us sleep within His arms!
Our prayer will be perfect, when we pray without knowing whom we pray.
Prayer is not a noise which strikes the ear; it is a silence which penetrates the heart. {28}
Soft tears come to moisten the eyes, and sighs escape like incense smoke.
One feels oneself in love, ineffably in love, with all that is beauty, truth, and justice; one th with a new life, and one fears no more to die. For prayer is the eternal life of intelligence adlv; it is the life of God upon earth.
Love one another --- that is the Law and the Prophets! Meditate, and understand this word.
And when you have understood, read no more, seek no more, doubt no more --- love!
Be no more wise, be no more learned --- love! That is the whole doctrine of true religion; religmeans charity, and God Himself is only love.
I have already said to you, to love is to give.
The impious man is he who absorbs others.
The pious man is he who loses himself in humanity.
If the heart of man concentrate in himself the fire with which God animates it, it is a hell whicvours all, and fills itself only with ashes; if he radiates it without, it becomes a tender sun o oe
Man owes himself to his family; his family owes itself to the fatherland; and the fatherland to hity.
The egoism of man merits isolation and despair; that of the family, ruin and exile; that of the frland, war and invasion.
The man who isolates himself from every human love, saying, "I will serve God," deceives himself.r, said St. John the Apostle, if he loveth not his neighbour whom he hath see, how shall he love o hm he hath not seen?
One must render to God that which is God's, but one must not refuse even to Caesar that which is ar's. {29}
God is He who gives life; Caesar can only give death.
One must love God, and not fear Caesar; as it is written in the Holy Book, "He that taketh the swshall perish by the sword."
You wish to be good? Then be just. You wish to be just? Then be free.
The vices which make man like the brute are the first enemies of his liberty.
Consider the drunkard, and tell me if this unclean brute can be called free!
The miser curses the life of his father, and, like the crow, hungers for corpses.
The goal of the ambitious man is --- ruins; it is the delirium of envy! The debauchee spits upon breast of his mother, and fills with abortions the entrails of death.
All these loveless hearts are punished by the most cruel of all tortures, hate.
Because --- take it to heart! --- the expiation is implicit in the sin.
The man who does evil is like an earthen pot ill-made; he will break himself: fatality wills it.
With the debris of the worlds, God makes stars; with the debris of souls He makes angels.
VI
THE SENARY
THE Senary is the number of initiation by ordeal; it is the number of equilibrium, it is the hierph of the knowledge of Good and Evil. {30}
He who seeks the origin of evil, seeks the source of what is not.
Evil is the disordered appetite of good, the unfruitful attempt of an unskilful will.
Every one possesses the fruit of his work, and poverty is only the spur to toil.
For the flock of men, suffering is like the shepherd dog, who bites the wool of the sheep to put back in the right way.
It is because of shadow that we are able to see light; because of cold that we feel heat; becausepain that we are sensible to pleasure.
Evil is then for us the occasion and the beginning of good.
But, in the dreams of our imperfect intelligence, we accuse the work of Providence, through failio understand it.
We resemble the ignorant person who judges the picture by the beginning of the sketch, and says, the head is done, "What! Has this figure no body?"
Nature remains calm, and accomplishes its work.
The ploughshare is not cruel when it tears the bosom of the earth, and the great revolutions of torld are the husbandry of God.
There is a place for everything: to savage peoples, barbarous masters; to cattle, butchers; to meudges and fathers.
If time could change the sheep into lions, they would eat the butchers and the shepherds.
Sheep never change because they do not instruct themselves; but peoples instruct themselves.
Shepherds and butchers of the people, you are then {31} right to regard as your enemies those whoak to your flock!
Flocks who know yet only your shepherds, and who wish to remain ignorant of their dealings with tutchers, it is excusable that you should stone them who humiliate you and disturb you, in speakin oyu of your rights.
O Christ! The authorities condemn Thee, Thy disciples deny Thee, the people curses Thee, and dem Thy murder; only Thy mother weeps for Thee, even God abandons Thee!
"Eli! Eli! lama sabachthani!"
VII
THE SEPTENARY
THE Septenary is the great biblical number. It is the key of the Creation in the books of Moses the symbol of all religion. Moses left five books, and the Law is complete in two testaments.
The Bible is not a history, it is a collection of poems, a book of allegories and images.
Adam and Eve are only the primitive types of humanity; the tempter serpent is time which tests; tree of Knowledge is 'right'; the expiation by toil is duty.
Cain and Abel represent the flesh and the spirit, force and intelligence, violence and harmony.
The giants are those who usurped the earth in ancient times; the flood was a great revolution.
The ark is tradition preserved in a family: religion at this period becomes a mystery and the proy of the race. Ham was cursed for having revealed it. {32}
Nimrod and Babel are the two primitive allegories of the despot, and of the universal empire whics always filled the dreams of men, --- a dream whose fulfilment was sought successively by the Asyin, the Medes, the Persians, Alexander, Rome, Napoleon, the successors of Peter the Great, and awas nfnished because of the dispersion of interests, symbolized by the confusion of tongues.
The universal empire could not realize itself by force, but by intelligence and love. Thus, to Nd, the man of savage 'right,' the Bible opposed Abraham, the man of duty, who goes voluntarily inoeie in order to seek liberty and strife in a strange country, which he seizes by virtue of his "de." He has a sterile wife, his thought, and a fertile slave, his force; but when force has produced ifrut, thought becomes fertile; and the son of intelligence drives into exile the child of force. Teman f intelligence is submitted to rude tests; he must confirm his conquests by sacrifices. Godorer him o immolate his son, that is to say, doubt ought to test dogma, and the intellectual man houd b readyto sacrifice everything on the altar of supreme reason. Then God intervenes: universl reson ields t the efforts of labour, and shows herself to science; the material side of dogma i alon immoated. . This is the meaning of the ram caught by its horns in a thicket. The history o Abrahm is, hen, a sybol in the ancient manner, and contains a lofty revelation of the destinies f the hman sou. Taken lterally, it is an absurd and revolting story. Did not St. Augustine takeliterall the Golen Ass of Auleius?
Poor great men! {33}
The history of Isaac is another legend. Rebecca is the type of the oriental woman, laborious, htable, partial in her affections, shrewd and wily in her manoeuvres. Jacob and Esau are again th w ypes of Cain and Abel; but here Abel avenges himself: the emancipated intelligence triumphs bycunig. The whole of the genius of the Jews is in the character of Jacob, the patient and laboriou suplaterwho yields to the wrath of Esau, becomes rich, and buys his brother's forgiveness. One ust everforgt that, when the ancients want to philosophize, they tell a story.
The history or legend of Joseph contains, in germ, the whole genius of the Gospel; and the Christsunderstood by His people, must often have wept in reading over again that scene, where the Govero fEgypt throws himself on the neck of Benjamin, with the great cry of "I am Joseph!"
Israel becomes the people of God, that is to say, the conservator of the idea, and the depositarif the word. This idea is that of human independence, and of royalty, by means of work; but one hdsi with care, like a precious seed. A painful and indelible sign is imprinted on the initiates;evryimge of the truth is forbidden, and the children of Jacob watch, sword in hand, around the unty f te tbernacle. Hamor and Shechem wish to introduce themselves forcibly into the holy family,and eris wit their people after undergoing a feigned initiation. In order to dominate the vulgar it i alredy neessary that the sanctuary should surround itself with sacrifices and with terror.
The servitude of the children of Jacob paves the way for their deliverance: for they have an idead one does not enchain an idea; they have a religion, and one does not {34} violate a religion; te r, in fine, a people, and one does not enchain a real people. Persecution stirs up avengers; te de icarnates itself in a man; Moses springs up; Pharaoh falls; and the column of smoke and flam, wichgoe before a freed people, advances majestically into the desert.
Christ is priest and king by intelligence and by love.
He has received the holy unction, the unction of genius, faith and virtue, which is force.
He comes when the priesthood is worn out, when the old symbols have no more virtue, when the beacf intelligence is extinguished.
He comes to recall Israel to life, and if he cannot galvanize Israel, slain by the Pharisees, intfe, he will resurrect the world given over to the dead worship of idols.
Christ is the right to do one's duty.
Man has the right to do his duty, and he has no other right.
O man! thou hast the right to resist even unto death any who prevents thee from doing thy duty.
Mother! Thy child is drowning; a man prevents thee from helping him; thou strikest this man, thost run to save thy son! ... Who, then, will dare to condemn thee?
Christ came to oppose the right of duty to the duty of right.
'Right,' with the Jews, was the doctrine of the Pharisees. And, indeed, they seemed to have acqu the privilege of dogmatizing; were they not the legitimate heirs of the synagogue?
They had the right to condemn the Saviour, and the Saviour knew that His duty was to resist them.}
Christ is the soul of protest.
But the protest of what? Of the flesh against the intelligence? No!
Of right against duty? No!
Of the physical against the moral? No! No!
Of imagination against universal reason? Of folly against wisdom? No, a thousand times No, and more No!
Christ is the reality, duty, which protests eternally against the ideality, right.
He is the emancipation of the spirit which breaks the slavery of the flesh.
He is devotion in revolt against egoism.
He is the sublime modesty which replies to pride: "I will not obey thee!"
Christ is unmated; Christ is solitary; Christ is sad: Why?
Because woman has prostituted herself.
Because society is guilty of theft.
Because selfish joy is impious.
Christ is judged, condemned, and executed; and men adore Him!
This happened in a world perhaps as serious as our own.
Judges of the world in which we live, pay attention, and think of Him who will judge your judgmen But, before dying, the Saviour bequeathed to His children the immortal sign of salvation, Communi Communion! Common union! the final word of the Saviour of the world!
"The Bread and the Wine shared among all," said He, "this is my flesh and my blood." {36}
He gave His flesh to the executioners, His blood to the earth which drank it. Why?
In order that all may partake of the bread of intelligence, and of the wine of love.
O sign of the union of men! O Round Table of universal chivalry! O banquet of fraternity and eqty! When will you be better understood?
Martyrs of humanity, all ye who have given your life in order that all should have the bread whicurishes and the wine which fortifies, do ye not also say, placing your hands on the signs of the nvral communion: "This is our flesh and our blood"?
And you, men of the whole world, you whom the Master calls His brothers; oh, do you not feel that universal bread, the fraternal bread, the bread of the communion, is God?
Retailers of the Crucified One!
All you who are not ready to give your blood, your flesh and your life to humanity, you are not wy of the Communion of the Son of God! Do not let His blood flow upon you, for it would brand you oeead!
Do not approach your lips to the heart of God, He would feel your sting!
Do not drink the blood of the Christ, it will burn your entrails; it is quite sufficient that it ld have flowed uselessly for you!
VIII
THE NUMBER EIGHT
THE Ogdoad is the number of reaction and of equilibrating justice. {37}
Every action produces a reaction.
This is the universal law of the world.
Christianity must needs produce anti-Christianity.
Antichrist is the shadow, the foil, the proof of Christ.
Antichrist already produced itself in the Church in the time of the Apostles: St. Paul said: --- the mystery of iniquity doth already work; only he who now letteth will let, until he be taken oto he way. And then shall that Wicked One be revealed. ..."<<2 Thess. ii. 7,8. This passage is pesmalythat referred to by the author. Cf. 1 John iv. 3, and ii, 18. --- TRANS.>>
The Protestants said: "Antichrist is the Pope."
The Pope replied: "Every heretic is an Antichrist."
The Antichrist is no more the Pope than Luther; the Antichrist is the spirit opposed to that of Ct.
It is the usurpation of right for the sake of right; it is the pride of domination and the despotof thought.
It is the selfishness, self-styled religious, of Protestants, as well as the credulous and imperiignorance of bad Catholics.
The Antichrist is what divides men instead of uniting them; it is a spirit of dispute, the obstinof the theologians and sectarians, the impious desire of appropriating the truth to oneself, and xldng others from it, or of forcing the whole world to submit to the narrow yoke of our judgments
The Antichrist is the priest who curses instead of blessing, who drives away instead of attractingo scandalizes instead of edifying, who damns instead of saving.
It is the hateful fanaticism which discourages good-will.
It is the worship of death, sadness, and ugliness. {38}
"What career shall we choose for our son?" have said many stupid parents; "he is mentally and bodweak, and he is without a spark of courage: --- we will make a priest of him, so that he may 'liv yte altar.'" They have not understood that the altar is not a manger for slothful animals.
Look at the unworthy priests, contemplate these pretended servants of the altar! What do they sa your heart, these obese or cadaverous men with the lack-lustre eyes, and pinched or gaping mouth?<cual priests. Levi's ideal priest, of whom 'bad; is an impossible epithet, is not to be looked orinth Church. He is in that 'Church' which is also Ark, Rose, Font, Altar, Cup, and the rest. e i tht Wrd of Truth which is 'established' by two witnesses. --- O. M.>>
Hear them talk: what does it teach you, their disagreeable and monotonous noise?
They pray as they sleep, and they sacrifice as they eat.
They are machines full of bread, meat and wine, and of senseless words.
And when they plume themselves, like the oyster in the sun, on being without thought and without , one says that they have peace of soul!
They have the peace of the brute. For man, that of the tomb is better: these are the priests of y and ignorance, these are the ministers of Antichrist.
The true priest of Christ is a man who lives, suffers, loves and fights for justice. He does notpute, he does not reprove; he sends out pardon, intelligence and love.
The true Christian is a stranger to the sectarian spirit; he is all things to all men, and looks ll men as the children of a common father, who means to save them all. The whole cult has for hi nya sense of sweetness and of {39} love: he leaves to God the secrets of justice, and understand olychrity.
He looks on the wicked as invalids whom one must pity and cure; the world, with its errors and vi is to him God's hospital, and he wishes to serve in it.
He does not think that he is better than any one else; he says only, "So long as I am in good hea let me serve others; and when I must fall and die, perhaps others will take my place and serve."
IX
THE NUMBER NINE
THIS is the hermit of the Tarot; the number which refers to initiates and to prophets.
The prophets are solitaries, for it is their fate that none should ever hear them.
They see differently from others; they forefeel misfortunes. So, people imprison them and kill t or mock them, repulse them as if they were lepers, and leave them to die of hunger.
Then, when the predictions come true, they say, "It is these people who have brought us misfortun Now, as is always the case on the eve of great disasters,<<This is the true clairvoyant Levi. Thvi who prophesied Universal Empire for Napoleon III was either the Magus trying to use him as a to,o a Micaiah unadjured. --- O. M.>> our streets are full of prophets.
I have met some of them in the prisons, I have seen others who were dying forgotten in garrets.
The whole great city has seen one of them whose silent {40} prophecy was to turn ceaselessly as hlked, covered with rags, in the palace of luxury and riches.
I have seen one of them whose face shone like that of Christ: he had callosities on his hands, anre the workman's blouse; with clay he kneaded epics. He twisted together the sword of right and h cptre of duty; and upon this column of gold and steel he placed the creative sign of love.
One day, in a great popular assembly, he went down into the road with a piece of bread in his hanich he broke and distributed, saying: "Bread of God, do thou make bread for all!"
I know another of them who cried: "I will no longer adore the god of the devil! I will not have ngman for my God!" And they thought that he blasphemed.
No; but the energy of his faith overflowed in inexact and imprudent words.
He said again in the madness of his wounded charity: "The liabilities of all men are common, and expiate each other's faults, as they make merit for each other by their virtues.
"The penalty of sin is death.
"Sin itself, moreover, is a penalty, and the greatest of penalties. A great crime is nothing butreat misfortune.
"The worst of men is he who thinks himself better than his follows.
"Passionate men are excusable, because they are passive; passion means suffering, and also redemp through sorrow.
"What we call liberty is nothing but the all-mightiness of divine compulsion. The martyrs said: is better to obey God than man'." {41}
"The least perfect act of love is worth more than the best act of piety."
"Judge not; speak hardly at all; love and act."
Another prophet came and said: "Protest against bad doctrines by good works, but do not separate selves.
"Rebuild all the altars, purify all the temples, and hold yourselves in readiness for the visit oe Spirit.
"Let every one pray in his own fashion, and hold communion with his own; but do not condemn other "A religious practice is never contemptible, for it is the sign of a great and holy thought.
"To pray together is to communicate in the same hope, the same faith,and the same charity.
"The sign by itself is nothing; it is the faith which sanctifies it.
"Religion is the most sacred and the strongest bond of human association, and to perform an act oligion is to perform an act of humanity."
When men understand at last that one must not dispute about things about which one is ignorant,
When they feel that a little charity is worth more than much influence and domination,
When the whole world respects what even God respects in the least of His creatures, the spontaneif obedience and the liberty of duty,
Then there will be no more than one religion in the world, the Christian and universal religion, true Catholic religion, which will no longer deny itself by restrictions of place and of persons. Wman," said the Saviour to the woman of Samaria, {42} "Verily I say unto thee, that the time coet wenmen shall no longer worship God, either in Jerusalem, or on this mountain; for God is a spiit,<A istanslation by monotheists. The Greek is GR:pi-nu-epsilon-upsilon-mu-alpha omicron Thetaepsion-oicro-sigma: "Spirit is God." --- TRANS.>> and they that worship Him must worship Him in sirit nd intruth"
X
THE ABSOLUTE NUMBER OF THE QABALAH
THE key of the Sephiroth. (Vide "Dogme et rituel de la haute magie.")
XI
THE NUMBER ELEVEN
ELEVEN is the number of force; it is that of strife and martyrdom.
Every man who dies for an idea is a martyr, for in him the aspirations of the spirit have triumphver the fears of the animal.
Every man who falls in war is a martyr, for he dies for others.
Every man who dies of starvation is a martyr, for he is like a soldier struck down in the battle ife.
Those who die in defence of right are as holy in their sacrifice as the victims of duty, and in treat struggles and revolutions against power, martyrs fell equally on both sides.
Right being the root of duty, our duty is to defend our rights.
What is a crime? The exaggeration of a right. Murder {43} and theft are negations of society; i the isolated despotism of an individual who usurps royalty, and makes war at his own risk and pei. Crime should doubtless be repressed, and society must defend itself; but who is so just, so greato ure, as to pretend that he has the right to punish?
Peace then to all who fall in war, even in unlawful war! For they have staked their heads and thave lost them; they have paid, and what more can we ask of them?
Honour to all those who fight bravely and loyally! Shame only on the traitors and cowards!
Christ died between two thieves, and He took one of them with Him to heaven.
The Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.
God bestows His almighty power on love. He loves to triumph over hate, but the lukewarm He spuetrth from His mouth.
Duty is to live, were it but for an instant!
It is fine to have reigned for a day, even for an hour! though it were beneath the sword of Damoc or upon the pyre of Sardanapalus!
But it is finer to have seen at one's feet all the crowns of the world, and to have said, "I willthe king of the poor, and my throne shall be on Calvary."
There is one man stronger than the man that slays; it is he who dies to save others.
There are no isolated crimes and no solitary expiations.
There are no personal virtues, nor are there any wasted devotions. {44}
Whoever is not without reproach is the accomplice of all evil; and whoever is not absolutely perv, may participate in all good.
For this reason an agony is always an humanitarian expiation, and every head that falls upon the fold may be honoured and praised as the head of a martyr.
For this reason also, the noblest and the holiest of martyrs could inquire of his own conscience,d himself deserving of the penalty that he was about to undergo, and say, saluting the sword thatwsrady to strike him, "Let justice be done!"
Pure victims of the Roman Catacombs, Jews and Protestants massacred by unworthy Christians!
Priests of l'Abbaye and les Carmes,<<Monasteries in Paris which were used as prisons in the ReignTerror. --- TRANS.>> victims of the Reign of Terror, butchered royalists, revolutionaries sacrifie nyour turn, soldiers of our great armies who have sown the world with your bones, all you who hvesufeed the penalty of death, workers, strivers, darers of every kind, brave children of Promethus,whohav feared neither the lightning nor the vulture, all honour to your scattered ashes! Peac andveneatio to your memories! You are the heroes of progress, martyrs of humanity!
XII
THE NUMBER TWELVE
TWELVE is the cyclic number; it is that of the universal Creed. {45}
Here is a translation in alexandrines of the unrestricted magical and Catholic creed: ---
I do believe in God, almighty sire of man.
One God, who did create the universe, his plan.
I do believe in Him, the Son, the chief of men,
Word and magnificence of the supreme Amen.
He is the living thought of Love's eternal might,
God manifest in flesh, the Action of the Light.
Desired in every place and every period,
But not a God that one may separate from God.
Descended among men to free the earth from fate,
He in His mother did the woman consecrate.
He was the man whom heaven's sweet wisdom did adorn;
To suffer and to die as men do He was born.
Proscribed by ignorance, accused by envy and strife,
He died upon the cross that He might give us life.
All who accept His aid to guide and to sustain
By His example may to God like Him attain.
He rose from death to reign throughout the ages' dance;
He is the sun that melts the clouds of ignorance.
His precepts, better known and mightier soon to be,
Shall judge the quick and dead for all eternity.
I do believe in God's most Holy Spirit, whose fire
The heart and mind of saints and prophets did inspire.
He is a Breath of life and of fecundity,
Proceeding both from God and from humanity.
I do believe in one most holy brotherhood
Of just men that revere heaven's ordinance of good.
I do believe one place, one pontiff, and one right,
One symbol of one God, in one intent unite.
I do believe that death by changing us renews,
And that in man as God life sheds immortal dews.
XIII
THE NUMBER THIRTEEN
THIRTEEN is the number of death and of birth; it is that of property and of inheritance, of sociend of family, of war and of treaties. {46}
The basis of society is the exchange of right, duty and good faith.
Right is property, exchange is necessity, good faith is duty.
He who wants to receive more than he gives, or who wants to receive without giving, is a thief.
Property is the right to dispose of a portion of the common wealth; it is not the right to destroor the right to sequestrate.
To destroy or sequestrate the common wealth is not to possess; it is to steal.
I say common wealth, because the true proprietor of all things is God, who wishes all things to bg to everybody. Whatever you may do, at your death you will carry away nothing of this world's gos Now, that which must be taken away from you one day is not really yours. It has only been len t yu. As to the usufruct, it is the result of work; but even work is not an assured guarantee of posses, and war may come with devastation and fire to displace property.
Make then good use of those things which perish, O you who will perish before they do!
Consider that egoism provokes egoism, and that the immorality of the rich man will answer for themes of the poor.
What does the poor man wish, if he is honest? He wishes for work.
Use your rights, but do your duty: the duty of the rich man is to spread wealth; wealth which doet circulate is dead; do not hoard death!
A sophist<<Proudhon. --- TRANS.>> has said, "Property is robbery," and he {47} doubtless wished teak of property absorbed in itself, withdrawn from free exchange, turned from common use.
If such were his thought, he might go further, and say that such a suppression of public life is ed assassination.
It is the crime of monopoly, which public instinct has always looked upon as treason to the humane.
The family is a natural society which results from marriage.
Marriage is the union of two beings joined by love, who promise each other mutual devotion in theerest of the children who may be born.
Married persons who have a child, and who separate, are impious. Do they then wish to execute thdgment of Solomon and hew the child asunder?
To vow eternal love is puerile; sexual love is an emotion, divine doubtless, but accidental, invoary and transitory; but the promise of reciprocal devotion is the essence of marriage and the funaetl principle of the family.
The sanction and the guarantee of this promise must then be an absolute confidence.
Every jealousy is a suspicion, and every suspicion is an outrage.
The real adultery is the breach of this trust: the woman who complains of her husband to another the man who confides to another woman the disappointments or the hopes of his heart, --- these d,ided, betray conjugal faith.
The surprises which one's senses spring upon one are only infidelities on account of the impulsesthe heart which abandons itself more or less to the whispers of pleasure. Moreover, these are hua alts for which one must blush, {48} and which one ought to hide: they are indecencies which onemut vod in advance by removing opportunity, but which one must never seek to surprise: morality poscibe scndal.
Every scandal is a turpitude. One is not indecent because one possesses organs which modesty doet name, but one is obscene when one exhibits them.
Husbands, hide your domestic wounds; do not strip your wives naked before the laughter of the mob Women, do not advertise the discomforts of the conjugal bed: to do so is to write yourselves prostts in public opinion.
It needs a lofty degree of courage to keep conjugal faith; it is a pact of heroism of which only t souls can understand the whole extent.
Marriages which break are not marriages: they are couplings.
A woman who abandons her husband, what can she become? She is no more a wife, and she is not a w; what is she then? She is an apostate from honour who is forced to be licentious because she isnihr virgin nor free.
A husband who abandons his wife prostitutes her, and deserves the infamous name that one applies he lovers of lost women.
Marriage is then sacred and indissoluble when it really exists.
But it cannot really exist, except for beings of a lofty intelligence and of a noble heart.
The animals do not marry, and men who live like animals undergo the fatalities of the brute natur They ceaselessly make unfortunate attempts to act {49} reasonably. Their promises are attempts atdimitations of promises; their marriages, attempts at and imitations of marriage; their loves, ateps t and imitations of love. They always wish, and never will; they are always undertaking and evr ompeting. For such people, only the repressive side of law applies.
Such beings may have a litter, but they never have a family: marriage and family are the rights oe perfect man, the emancipated man, the man who is intelligent and free.
Ask also the annals of the Courts, and read the history of parricides.
Raise the black veil from off all those chopped heads, and ask them what they thought of marriage of the family, what milk they sucked, what caresses ennobled them. ... Then shudder, all you whod o give to your children the bread of intelligence and of love, all you who do not sanction patena athrity by the virtue of a good example!
Those wretches were orphans in spirit and in heart, and they have avenged their birth.
We live in a century when more than ever the family is misunderstood in all that it possesses whiartakes of the august and the sacred: material interest is killing intelligence and love; the lesoso experience are despised, the things of God are hawked about the street. The flesh insults th sirt,fraud laughs in the face of loyalty. No more idealism, no more justice: human life has murere boh is father and its mother.
Courage and patience! This century will go where great criminals should go. Look at it, how sadis! Weariness {50} is the black veil of its face ... the tumbril rolls on, and the shuddering crw olows it. ..
Soon one more century will be judged by history, and one will write upon a mighty tomb of ruins:
"Here ends the parricide century! The century which murdered its God and its Christ!"
In war, one has the right to kill, in order not to die: but in the battle of life the most sublim rights is that of dying in order not to kill.
Intelligence and love should resist oppression unto death --- but never unto murder.
Brave man, the life of him who has offended you is in your hands; for he is master of the life ofers who cares not for his own... Crush him beneath your greatness: pardon him!
"But is it forbidden to kill the tiger which threatens us?"
"If it is a tiger with a human face, it is finer to let him devour us, --- yet, for all that, mory has here nothing to say."
"But if the tiger threatens my children?"
"Let Nature herself reply to you!"
Harmodius and Aristogiton had festivals and statues in Ancient Greece. The Bible has consecrated names of Judith and Ehud, and one of the most sublime figures of the Holy Book is that of Samson,bidand chained, pulling down the columns of the temple, as he cried: "Let me die with the Philistne!" And yet, do you think that, if Jesus, before dying, had gone to Rome to plunge his dagger in the rt f Tiberius, He would have saved the world, as He did, in forgiving His executioners, and in dyn or een Tiberius? {51}
Did Brutus save Roman liberty by killing Caesar? In killing Caligula, Chaerea only made place foaudius and Nero. To protest against violence by violence, is to justify it, and to force it to rpoue itself.
But to triumph over evil by good, over selfishness by selfabnegation, over ferocity by pardon, ths the secret of Christianity, and it is that of eternal victory.
"I have seen the place where the earth still bled from the murder of "Abel," and on that place thran a brook of tears.
Under the guidance of the centuries, myriads of men moved on, letting fall their tears into the b.
And Eternity, crouching mournful, gazed upon the tears which fell; she counted them one by one, ahere were never enough to them to wash away one stain of blood.
But between two multitudes and two ages came the Christ, a pale and radiant figure.
And in the earth of blood and tears, He planted the vine of fraternity; and the tears and the blosucked up by the roots of the divine tree, became the delicious sap of the grape, which is destindt ntoxicate with love the children of the future.
XIV
THE NUMBER FOURTEEN
FOURTEEN is the number of fusion, of association, and of universal unity, and it is in the name oat it represents that we shall here make an appeal to the nations, beginning with the most ancien n he most holy.
Children of Israel, why, in the midst of the movement of {52} the nations, do you rest immobile, dians of the tombs of your fathers?
Your fathers are not here, they are risen: for the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, is not God of the dead!
Why do you always impress upon your offspring the bloody sigil of the knife?
God no longer wishes to separate you from other men; be our brethren, and eat with us the consecr Bread of peace on altars that blood stains never.
The law of Moses is accomplished: read your books and understand that you have been a blind and hhearted race, even as all your prophets said to you.
You have also been a courageous race, a race that persevered in strife.
Children of Israel, become the children of God: Understand and love!
God has wiped from your forehead the brand of Cain, and the peoples seeing you pass will no longey, "There go the Jews!" They will cry, "Room for our brethren! Room for our elders in the Faith" nd we shall go every year to eat the passover with you in the city of the New Jerusalem.
And we shall take our rest under your vine and under your fig-tree; for you will be once more theend of the traveller, in memory of Abraham, of Tobias, and of the angels who visited them.
And in memory of Him who said: "He who receiveth the least of these My little ones, receiveth Me. For then you will no longer refuse an asylum in your {53} house and in your heart to your brotheroeh, whom you sold to the Gentiles.
Because he has become powerful in the land of Egypt where you sought bread in the days of famine.And he has remembered his father Jacob, and Benjamin his young brother, and he pardons you your jaos, and embraces you with tears.
Children of true believers, we will sing with you: "There is no God but God, and Mohammed is His het!"
Say with the children of Israel: "There is no God but God, and Moses is His prophet!"
Say with the Christians: "There is no God but God, and Jesus Christ is His prophet!"
Mohammed is the shadow of Moses. Moses is the forerunner of Jesus.
What is a prophet? A representative of humanity seeking God. God is God, and man is the prophetGod, when he causes us to believe in God.
The Old Testament, the Qur'an, and the Gospel are three different translations of the same book. God is one, so also is the law.
O ideal woman! O reward of the elect! Art thou more beautiful than Mary?
O Mary, daughter of the East! caste as pure love, great as the desire of motherhood, come and teahe children of Islam the mysteries of Paradise, and the secrets of beauty!
Invite them to the festival of the new alliance! There, upon three thrones glittering with precistones, three prophets will be seated. {54}
The tuba tree will make, with its back-curving branches, a dais for the celestial table.
The bride will be white as the moon, and scarlet as the smile of morning.
All nations shall press forward to see her, and they will no longer fear to pass AL Sirah; for, oat razor-edged bridge, the Saviour will stretch His cross, and come to stretch His hand to those h tmble, and to those who have fallen the bride will stretch her perfumed veil, and draw them to er
O ye people, clap your hands, and praise the last triumph of love! Death alone will remain dead, hell alone will be consumed!
O nations of Europe, to whom the East stretches forth its hands, unite and push back the northernr!<<Written about the time of the Crimean War, this indicates Levi's attempt to use Imperialism a i agical weapon, just as Allan Bennett tried to use Buddhism. All these second-hand swords brea, s ager saw when he wrote "Siegfried," and invented a new Music, a Nothung which has shorn asundr mre als sceptres than Wotan's. --- O. M.>> Let the last war bring the triumph of intelligence nd lve, et cmmerce interlace the arms of the world, and a new civilization, sprung from the armedGospe, unie allthe flocks of the earth under the crook of the same shepherd!
Such will be the conquests of progress, such is the end towards which the whole movement of the w is pushing us.
Progress is movement, and movement is life.
To deny progress is to affirm nothingness, and to deify death.
Progress is the only reply that reason can give to the objections which the existence of evil rai {55}
All is not well, but all will be well one day. God begins His work, and He will finish it.
Without progress, evil would be immutable like God.
Progress explains ruins, and consoles the weeping of Jeremiah.
Nations succeed each other like men; and nothing is stable, because everything is marching towardrfection.
The great man who dies bequeathes to his country the fruit of his works; the great nation which bes extinguished upon earth transforms itself into a star to enlighten the obscurities of History. ht it has written by its actions remains graven in the eternal book; it has added a page to theBileofthe human race.
Do not say that civilization is bad; for it resembles the damp heat which ripens the harvest, it dly develops the principles of life and the principles of death, it kills and it vivifies.
It is like the angel of the judgment who separates the wicked from the good.
Civilization transforms men of good will into angels of light, and lowers the selfish man beneath brute; it is the corruption of bodies and the emancipation of souls.
The impious world of the giants raised to Heaven the soul of Enoch; above the Bacchanals of primi Greece rises the harmonious spirit of Orpheus.
Socrates and Pythagoras, Plato and Aristotle, resume, in explaining them, all the aspirations and the glories of the ancient world; the fables of Homer remain truer than history, and nothing remist us of the grandeur of Rome {56} but the immortal writings which the century of Augustus brougt orh. Thus, perhaps, Rome only shook the world with the convulsions of war, in order to bring forth Ver
Christianity is the fruit of the meditations of all the sages of the East, who live again in Jesurist.
Thus the light of the spirits has risen where the sun of the world rises; Christ conquered the Weand the soft rays of the sun of Asia have touched the icicles of the North.
Stirred by this unknown heat, ant-heaps of new men have spread over a worn-out world; the souls oad people have shone upon rejuvenated races, and enlarged in them the spirit of life.
There is in the world a nation which calls itself frankness and freedom, for these two words are nymous with the name of France.
This nation has always been in some ways more Catholic than the Pope, and more Protestant than Lu.
The France of the Crusades, the France of the Troubadours, the France of songs, the France of Rabs and of Voltaire, the France of Bossuet and of Pascal, it is she who is the synthesis of all peols t is she who consecrates the alliance of reason and of faith, of revolution and of power, of te os tnder belief and of the proudest human dignity.
And, see how she marches, how she swings herself, how she struggles, how she grows great!
Often deceived and wounded, never cast down, enthusiastic over her triumphs, daring in her adverss, she laughs, she sings, she dies, and she teaches the world faith in immortality. {57}
The old guard does not surrender, but neither does it die! The proof of it is the enthusiasm of children, who mean, one day, to be also soldiers of the old guard!
Napoleon is no more a man: he is the very genius of France, he is the second saviour of the worldd he also gave for a sign the cross to his apostles.
St. Helena and Golgotha are the beacons of the new civilization; they are the two piles of an imm bridge made by the rainbow of the final deluge, and which throws a bridge between the two worlds
And can you believe that a past without aureole and without glory, might capture and devour so gra future?
Could you think that the spur of a Tartar might one day tear up the pact of our glories, the testt of our liberties?
Say rather that we may again become children, and enter again into our mother's womb!
"Go on! Go on!" said the voice of God to the wandering Jew. "Advance! Advance!" the destiny of world cries out to France. And where do we go? To the unknown, the the abyss perhaps; no matter Btto the past, to the cemeteries of oblivion, to the swaddling-clothes which our childhood itsel treinshreds, towards the imbecility and ignorance of the earliest ages ... never! never!
XV
THE NUMBER FIFTEEN
FIFTEEN is the number of antagonism, and of catholicity.
Christianity is at present divided into two churches: the {58} civilizing church, and the savage ch; the progressive church, and the stationary church.
One is active, the other is passive: one has mastered the nations and governs them always, since s fear it; the other has submitted to every despotism, and can be nothing but an instrument of slvr. The active church realizes God for men, and alone believes in the divinity of the human Word, as nterpreter of that of God.
What after all is the infallibility of the Pope, but the autocracy of intelligence, confirmed by universal vote of faith?
In this case, one might say, the Pope ought to be the first genius of his century. Why? It is mproper, in reality, that he should be an average man. His supremacy is only more divine for that ease it is in a way more human.
Do not events speak louder than rancours and irreligious ignorances? Do not you see Catholic Frasustaining with one hand the tottering papacy, and with the other holding the sword to fight at teha of the army of progress?
Catholics, Jews, Turks, Protestants, already fight under the same banner; the crescent has rallie the Latin cross, and altogether we struggle against the invasion of the barbarians, and their brtlzng orthodoxy.
It is for ever an accomplished fact. In admitting new dogmas, the chair of St. Peter has solemnloclaimed itself progressive.
The fatherland of Catholic Christianity is that of the sciences and of the fine arts; and the ete Word of the Gospel, living and incarnate in a visible authority, is still the light of the world 5} Silence, then, to the Pharisees of the new synagogue! Silence to the hateful traditions of the Sls, to the arrogance of Presbyterianism, to the absurdity of Jansenism, and to all those shamefuladsperstitious interpretations of the eternal dogma, so justly stigmatized by the pitiless geniusofVotare!
Voltaire and Napoleon died Catholics.<<"I do not say that Voltaire died a good Catholic, but he da Catholic." --- E. L. Christian authors unanimously hold that, like all 'heretics,' he repente nhs death-bed, and died blaspheming. What on earth does it matter? Life, not death, reveals th sul -- TRANS.>> And do you know what the Catholicism of the future must be?
It will be the dogma of the Gospel, tried like gold by the critical acid of Voltaire, and realizen the kingdom of the world, by the genius of the Christian Napoleon.
Those who will not march will be dragged or trampled by events.
Immense calamities may again hang over the world. The armies of the Apocalypse may, perhaps, one, unchain the four scourges. The sanctuary will be cleansed. Rigid and holy poverty will send frhis apostles to uphold what staggers, lift up again what is broken, and anoint all wounds with scrd il.
Those two blood-hungered monsters, despotism and anarchy, will tear themselves to pieces, and annate each other, after having mutually sustained each other for a little while, by the embrace of hi truggle itself.
And the government of the future will be that whose model is shown to us in nature, by the familyd in the religious world by the pastoral hierarchy. The elect shall reign with Jesus Christ durigatousand years, say the {60} apostolic traditions: that is to say, that during a series of centuie, heintelligence and love of chosen men, devoted to the burden of power, will administer the inerets nd he wealth of the universal family.
At that day, according to the promise of the Gospel, there will be no more than one flock and onepherd.
XVI
THE NUMBER SIXTEEN
SIXTEEN is the number of the temple.
Let us say what the temple of the future will be!
When the spirit of intelligence and love shall have revealed itself, the whole trinity will manifitself in its truth and in its glory.
Humanity, become a queen, and, as it were, risen from the dead, will have the grace of childhood ts poesy, the vigour of youth in its reason, and the wisdom of ripe age in its works.
All those forms, which the divine thought has successively clothed, will be born again, immortal perfect.
All those features which the art of successive nations has sketched will unite themselves, and fohe complete image of God.
Jerusalem will rebuild the Temple of Jehovah on the model prophesied by Ezekiel; and the Christ, and eternal Solomon, will chant, beneath roofs of cedar and of cypress, the Epithalamium of his mrig with holy liberty, the holy bride of the Song of Songs.
But Jehovah will have laid aside his thunderbolts, to bless {61} with both hands the bridegroom ahe bride; he will appear smiling between them, and take pleasure in being called father.
However, the poetry of the East, in its magical souvenirs, will call him still Brahma, and JupiteIndia will teach our enchanted climates the marvellous fables of Vishnu, and we shall place upon h tll bleeding forehead of our well-beloved Christ the triple crown of pearls of the mystical Triuri. Fom that time, Venus, purified under the veil of Mary, will no more weep for her Adonis.
The bridegroom is risen to die no more, and the infernal boar has found death in its momentary viy.
Lift yourselves up again, O Temples of Delphi and of Ephesus! The God of Light and of Art is becthe God of the world, and the Word of God is indeed willing to be called Apollo! Diana will no mr egn widowed in the lonely fields of night; her silvern crescent is now beneath the feet of the rie. But Diana is not conquered by Venus; her Endymion has wakened, and virginity is about to take priin otherhood!
Quit the tomb, O Phidias, and rejoice in the destruction of thy first Jupiter: it is now that tholt conceive a God!
O Rome, let thy temples rise again, side by side with thy basilicas: be once more the Queen of thrld, and the Pantheon of the nations; let Vergil be crowned on the Capitol by the hand of St. Petr n let Olympus and Carmel unite their divinities beneath the brush of Raphael!
Transfigure yourselves, ancient cathedrals of our fathers; dart forth into the clouds your chiseland living arrows, and {62} let stone record in animated figures the dark legends of the North, biheed by the marvellous gilded apologues of the Qur'an!
Let the East adore Jesus Christ in its mosques, and on the minarets of a new Santa Sophia let thess rise in the midst of the crescent!<<It is amusing to remark that this very symbol is charactersi f the Greek Church which he has been attacking. Levi should have visited Moscow. --- TRANS.>> Le Mhammed set woman free to give to the true believer the houris which he has so long dreamt o, ad lt te martyrs of the Saviour teach chaste caresses to the beautiful angels of Mohammed!
The whole earth, reclothed with the rich adornments which all the arts have embroidered for her, no longer be anything but a magnificent temple, of which man shall be the eternal priest.
All that was true, all that was beautiful, all that was sweet in the past centuries, will live onore glorified in this transfiguration of the world.
And the beautiful form will remain inseparable from the true idea, as the body will one day be inrable from the soul, when the soul, come to its own power, will have made itself a body in its ow mg.
That will be the kingdom of Heaven upon Earth, and the body will be the temple of the soul, as thgenerated universe will be the body of God.
And bodies and souls, and form and thought, and the whole universe, will be the light, the word, the permanent and visible revelation of God. Amen. So be it. {63}
XVII
THE NUMBER SEVENTEEN
SEVENTEEN is the number of the star; it is that of intelligence and love.
Warrior and bold intelligence, accomplice of divine Prometheus, eldest daughter of Lucifer, hail thee in thine audacity! Thou didst wish to know, and in order to possess, thou didst brave all h hnders, and affronted every abyss!
Intelligence, O Thou, whom we poor sinners have loved to madness, to scandal, to reprobation! Di right of man, essence and soul of liberty, hail unto thee! For they have pursued thee, in trampigbneath their feet for thee the dearest dreams of their imagination, the best beloved phantoms o tei hart!
For thee, they have been repulsed and proscribed, for thee they have suffered prison, nakedness, er, thirst, the desertion of those whom they loved, and the dark temptations of despair! Thou watter right, and they have conquered thee! Now they can weep and believe, now they can submit theseve ad pray!
Repentant Cain would have been greater than Abel: it is lawful pride satisfied which has the righ humiliate itself!
I believe because I know why and how one must believe; I believe because I love, and fear no more Love! Love! Sublime redeemer and sublime restorer; thou who makest so much happiness, with so mytrtures, thou who didst sacrifice blood and tears, thou who art virtue {64} itself, and the rewadofvitue; force of resignation, belief of obedience, joy of sorrow, life of death, hail! Salutatin nd lor to thee! If intelligence is a lamp, thou art its flame; if it is right, thou art duty; f i is obilty, thou art happiness. Love, full of pride and modesty in thy mysteries, divine love hiden loe, loe insensate and sublime, Titan who takest Heaven in both hands, and forcest it to erth, inal ad inefable secret of Christian widowhood, love eternal, love infinite, ideal which woud suffce to ceate wolds; love! love! blessing and glory to thee! Glory to the intelligences whic veil temselvesthat the may not offend weak eyes! Glory to right which transforms itself wholly nto duty and whic becomes evotion! To the widowed souls who love, and burn up without being love! To thoe who suffr, and mak none other suffer, to those who forgive the ungrateful, to those wh love thei enemies! h, happy evrmore, happy beyond all, are those who embrace poverty, who have rained themelves to thedregs, to gie! Happy are the souls who for ever make thy peace! Happy th pure and th simple heart that never tink themselves better than others! Humanity, my mother, humnity daughterand mother of od, humanity cnceived without sin, universal Church, Mary! Happy is h who has daredall to know the and to understnd thee, and who is ready to suffer all once more, inorder to serve hee and to love hee!
XVIII
THE NUMBER EIGHTEEN
THIS number is that of religious dogma, which is all poetry and all mystery. {65}
The Gospel says that at the death of the Saviour the veil of the Temple was rent, because that demanifested the triumph of devotion, the miracle of charity, the power of God in man, divine humant,ad human divinity, the highest and most sublime of Arcana, the last word of all initiations.
But the Saviour knew that at first men would not understand him, and he said: "You will not be abo bear at present the full light of my doctrine; but, when the Spirit of Truth shall manifest himef e will teach you all truth, and he will cause you to understand the sense of what I have said nt yu.
Now the Spirit of Truth is the spirit of science and intelligence, the spirit of force and of cou.
It is that spirit which solemnly manifested itself in the Roman Church, when it declared in the farticles of its decree of the 12th December, 1845:
1 Degree. --- That if faith is superior to reason, reason ought to endorse the inspirations of fa
2 Degree. --- That faith and science have each their separate domain, and that the one should notrp the functions of the other;
3 Degree. --- That it is proper for faith and grace, not to weaken, but on the contrary to streng and develop reason;
4 Degree. --- That the concourse of reason, which examines, not the decisions of faith, but the nal and rational bases of the authority which decides them, far from injuring faith, can only be ueu o it; in other words, that a faith, perfectly reasonable in its principles, should not fear, bt hold on the contrary, desire the sincere examination of reason.
Such a decree is the accomplishment of a complete religious {66} revolution, it is the inauguratif the reign of the Holy Ghost upon the earth.
XIX
THE NUMBER NINETEEN
IT is the number of light.
It is the existence of God proved by the very idea of God.
Either one must say that Being is the universal tomb where, by an automatic movement, stirs a forr ever dead and corpse-like, or one must admit the absolute principle of intelligence and of life
Is the universal light dead or alive? Is it vowed fatally to the work of destruction, or providelly directed to an immortal birth?
If there be no God, intelligence is only a deception, for it fails to be the absolute, and its idis a lie.
Without God, being is a nothingness affirming itself, life a death in disguise, and light a night ever deceived by the mirage of dreams.
The first and most essential act of faith is then this.
Being exists; and the Being of beings, the Truth of being, is God.
Being is alive with intelligence, and the living intelligence of absolute being is God.
Light is real and life-giving; now, the reality and life of all light is God.
The word of universal reason is an affirmation and not a negation.
How blind are they who do not see that physical light is nothing but the instrument of thought! { Thought alone, then, reveals light, and creates it in using it for its own purposes.
The affirmation of atheism is the dogma of eternal night: the affirmation of God is the dogma of t!
We stop here at the number Nineteen, although the sacred alphabet has twenty-two letters; but thest nineteen are the keys of occult theology. The others are the keys of Nature; we shall return t hmin the third part of this work.
-----------------------------
Let us resume what we have said concerning God, by quoting a fine invocation borrowed from the Je liturgy. It is a page from the qabalistic poem Kether-Malkuth, by Rabbi Solomon, son of Gabirol
"Thou art one, the beginning of all numbers, and the foundation of all buildings; thou art one, an the secret of thy unity the most wise of men are lost, because they know it not. Thou art one,adty unity neither wanes nor waxes, neither suffers any change. Thou art one, and yet not the oe f hemathematician, for thy unity admits neither multiplication, nor change, nor form. Thou artone an no one of mine imaginations can fix a limit for thee, or give a definition of thee; therefre wll Itakeheed to my ways, lest I offend with my tongue. Thou art one indeed, whose excellenceis solofty thatit may in no wise fall, by no means like that one which may cease to be.
"Thou art the existing one; nevertheless, the understanding and the sight of mortals cannot attaiine existence, nor place in thee the where, the how, the why. Thou art the {68} existing one, bu ntyself, since no other can exist beside thee. Thou art the existing one, before time, and beyod pae. Thou art indeed the existing one, and thine existence is so hidden, and so deep, that nonecandisove it, or penetrate its secret.
"Thou art the living one, but not in fixed and known time; thou art the living one, but not by sp or by soul; for thou art the Soul of all souls. Thou art the living one; but not living with th ieof mortals, that is, like a breath, and whose end is to give food to worms. Thou art the livig ne ad he that can attain thy mysteries will enjoy eternal delight and live for ever.
"Thou art great; before thy greatness all other greatness bows, and all that is most excellent bes imperfect. Thou art great above all imagination, and thou art exalted above all the hierarchie fHaven. Thou art great above all greatness, and thou art exalted above all praise. Thou art ston, ndnot one among thy creatures can do the works that thou dost, nor can his force be compared iththie. Thou art strong, and it is to thee that belongs that strength invincible which changes nt an decys nver. Thou art strong; by thy loving-kindness thou dost forgive in the moment of thy ost brningwrath and thou showest thyself long-suffering to sinners. Thou art strong, and thy meries, eistingfrom al time, are upon all thy creatures. Thou art the eternal light, that pure soul shall ee, andthat th cloud of sins will hide from the eyes of sinners. Thou art the light whichis hidde in thisworld, ad visible in the other, where the glory of the Lord is shown forth. Thouart Soverign, and he eyes o understanding which desire to see thee are all {69} amazed, for they an attain ut part ofit, never he whole. Thou art the God of gods, and all thy creatures bear witess to it; nd in honou of this grat name they owe thee all their worship. Thou art God, and all reated being are thy serants and thyworshippers: thy glory is not tarnished, although men worshipother gods, bcause their itention is toaddress themselves to thee; they are like blind men, who wsh to follow te straight roa, but stray; oe falls into a well, the other into a ditch; all think hat they are coe to their desie, yet they hav wearied themselves in vain. But thy servants are lke men of clear ight travelling pon the highroad never do they stray from it, either to the righthand or the left,until they are enered into the cout of the king's palace. Thou art God, who by hy godhead sustainst all beings, andby thy unity dost eing home all creatures. Thou art God, andthere is no differece between thy deit, thy unity, thy etrnity, and thy existence; for all is oneand the same mystery although names vary all returns to the ame truth. Thou art the knower, and hat intelligence whic is the source of lif emanates from thysel; and beside thy knowledge all thewisest men are fools. Thou art the knower, ad the ancient of the acient ones, and knowledge has eer fed from thee. Thouart the knower, and tho hast learned thy knowldge from none, nor hast acqured it but from thyself. Thou art the knower, an like a workman and an achitect thou hast taken fom thy knowledge a divinewill, at an appointed tim, to draw being from nothng; so that the light hich falls from the eyes i drawn from its own centrewithout any instrument or ool. This divine wll has hollowed, designed, urified and moulded; it hasordered {70} Nothingness toopen itself, Beig to shut up, and the world o spread itself. It has spaned the heavens, and assembld with its poer the tabernacle of the sphees, with the cords of its migt it has bound the curtains o the creatres of the universe, and touchng with its strength the edge f the curtain of creation, hasjoined hat which is above to that whic was below." --- ("Prayers of Kppour.")
We have given to these bold qabalistic speculations the only form which suits them, that is, poesr the inspiration of the heart.
Believing souls will have no need of the rational hypotheses contained in this new explanation of figures of the Bible; but those sincere hearts afflicted by doubt, which are tortured by eighteet-etury criticism, will understand in reading it that even reason without faith can find in the HlyBok omething besides stumbling-blocks; if the veils with which the divine text is covered throwa geatshaow, this shadow is so marvellously designed by the interplay of light that it becomes th sol intlligble image of the divine ideal.
Ideal, incomprehensible as infinity, and indispensable as the very essence of mystery!
{71}
ARTICLE II
SOLUTION OF THE SECOND PROBLEM
TRUE RELIGION
RELIGION exists in humanity, like love.
Like it, it is unique.
Like it, it either exists, or does not exist, in such and such a soul; but, whether one accepts i denies it, it is in humanity; it is, then, in life, it is in nature itself; it is an incontestabefc of science, and even of reason.
The true religion is that which has always existed, which exists to-day, and will exist for ever.Some one may say that religion is this or that; religion is what it is. This is the true religion n he false religions are superstitions imitated from her, borrowed from her, lying shadows of hesef! One may say of religion what one says of true art. Savage attempts at painting or sculpture are atempts of ignorance to arrive at the truth. Art proves itself by itself, is radiant with its ow pendor, is unique and eternal like beauty.
The true religion is beautiful, and it is by that divine character that it imposes itself on the ect of science, and obtains the assent of reason.
Science dare not affirm or deny those dogmatic hypotheses which are truths for faith; but it mustognize by unmistakable {72} characters the one true religion, that is to say, that which alone meiste name of religion in that it unites all the characters which agree with that great and univeralasirtion of the human soul.
One only thing, which is to all most evidently divine, is manifested in the world.
It is charity.
The work of true religion should be to produce, to preserve, and to spread abroad the spirit of cty.
To arrive at this end she must herself possess all the characteristics of charity, in such a mannhat one could define her satisfactorily, in naming her, "Organic Charity."
Now, what are the characteristics of charity?
It is St. Paul who will tell us.
Charity is patient.
Patient like God, because it is eternal as He is. It suffers persecutions, and never persecutes rs.
It is kindly and loving, calling to itself the little, and not repulsing the great.
It is without jealousy. Of whom, and of what, should it be jealous? Has it not that better part h shall not be taken away from it?
It is neither quarrelsome nor intriguing.
It is without pride, without ambition, without selfishness, without anger.
It never thinks evil, and never triumphs by injustice; for all its joy is comprehended in truth.
It endures everything, without ever tolerating evil.
It believes all; its faith is simple, submissive, hierarchical, and universal. {73}
It sustains all, and never imposes burdens which it is not itself the first to carry.
{Illustration on page 74 described:
This is titled below: "GREAT PENTACLE FROM THE VISION OF ST. JOHN"
The figure is contained within a rectangle of width a bit less than half height. The figure itselftaken from Revelations Chapter 10 and is roughly divisible into four parts. The top contains a hmnhad and upraised left hand in a shaded semi-circle under an arch of three curved lines. The had s aler, thumb out, first and middle fingers upright and two remaining fingers to palm. "MICROPOSOUS"is ritten horizontally above the arch, "Gnosis" to the left and "Atziluth" "Jezirah" "BRIAH "Suphur to he right in rows. Following the arch outside to the left is "EIS THS". Following th archoutsie to he right is "GR:alpha-iota-omega-nu-alpha-sigma Alpha-mu-eta-nu" --- Greek is dificult o tellfrom Ltin letters here, and the first part looks very much like "aiwvas", almost Crowey's "Awass" ad very ossibly a subconscious inspiration for it. There is a suggestion of a nimbu about te head. The secton next down is contained largely within a cloud. To the left, outside "syche". o the rigt outsidein rows "Aziah" "JEZIRAH" "Mercury". In the center is a book held ope by a righ hand flatagainst th left page and open, palm to book, fingers extending to base of rigt page. Atthe top of his portion just below the chin of the upper section head is the word " GR:ta delta-omiron-xi-alpha (the glory) Immediately below this and above the spine of the book is a unrecognizabe character alittle like R:mu or Mem from the Alphabet of the Magi, although this i the normal plce for "Alpha" Immediately elow the book is " GR:eta delta-upsilon-nu-alpha-mu-iot-sigma" (the poer). There is strange characer below this, at the bottom of this section and lik that noted abov --- even harderto recognize, bu this is the usual position for "Omega". The thrd section from te top and second rom the bottom ha two pillars issuing from the cloud. These hae fluted capitols nd ringed bases exending to form traezoidal forms. The pillar to the left is back and marked at cnter with "B", whil that to the right s white with "J". To the left is "Hyle" To the right in ros "Briah" "AZIAH" an a small rectangle. There is a crescent moon between the ases of the drums, hons angled right and sightly upward. The lwest portion shows feet issuing frm the bases of the pilars and cocked outwardon a mass of rock to te left and a sea to the right. " GR:eta beta-alpha-siga-iota-lambda-epsilon-ita-alpha" (the kingdom)is written on the base of ths rock. The rectangula frame is broken at the ottom to admit crude Hebew letters, evidently YodShin-Heh-Vau-Heh or someting similar with the doub being on the HB:Heh 's loking like HB:Chet 's. Below this is what appear to be GR:Omicron-tau-iot omicron-delta epsilon-dela-iota-nu, but the oor penmanship makes certai identification impossible. The entire figure gives th impression of aman with head in heaven and eet on earth.}
Religion is patient --- the religion of great thinkers and of martyrs.
It is benevolent like Christ and the apostles, like Vincent de Paul, and like Fenelon.
It envies not either the dignities or the goods of the earth. {74} It is the religion of the fat of the desert, of St. Francis, and of St. Bruno, of the Sisters of Charity, and of the Brothers fSit-Jean-de- Dieu.
It is neither quarrelsome nor intriguing. It prays, does good, and waits.
It is humble, it is sweet-tempered, it inspires only devotion and sacrifice. It has, in short, ahe characteristics of Charity because it is Charity itself.
Men, on the contrary, are impatient, persecutors, jealous, cruel, ambitious, unjust, and they shoemselves as such, even in the name of that religion which they have succeeded in calumniating, bu hc they will never cause to life. Men pass away, but truth is eternal.
Daughter of Charity, and creator of Charity in her own turn, true religion is essentially that whrealizes; she believes in the miracles of faith, because she herself accomplishes them every day hnse practises charity. Now, a religion which practises charity may flatter herself that she reaizs llthe dreams of divine love. Moreover, the faith of the hierarchical church transforms mystiismint relism by the efficacy of her sacraments. No more signs, no more figures whose strength i notin gace,and which do not really give what they promise! Faith animates all, makes all in som sortvisibe andpalpable; even the parables of Jesus Christ take a body and a soul. They show, atJerusaem, th houseof the wicked rich man!! The thin symbolisms of the primitive religions overtuned by cience,and depived of the life of faith, resemble those whitened bones which covered the feld thatEzekiel aw in hi vision. The Spirit of the Saviour, the spirit of faith, the spirit of {5} charit, has brethed uponthis dust; and all that which was dead has taken life again so really hat one reognizes nomore yesteday's corpses in these living creatures of to-day. And why should ne recogniz them, sinc the world s renewed, since St. Paul burned at Ephesus the books of the hieophants? Wa then St. Pal a barbaria, and was he committing a crime against science? No, but he urned the wining-sheets ofthe resuscitaed that they might forget death. Why, then, do we to-day ecall the qabaistic origins f dogma? Why o we join again the figures of the Bible to the allegores of Hermes? s it to condemnSt. Paul, is itto bring doubt to believers? No, indeed, for believrs have no need f our book; theywill not read it and they will not wish to understand it. But wewish to show to te innumerable crod of those who dobt, that faith is attached to the reason of al the centuries, tothe science of allthe sages. We wis to force human liberty to respect divine athority, reason to ecognize the bases f faith, so that fath and authority, in their turn, may nevr again proscribe lierty and reason.
{76}
ARTICLE III
SOLUTION OF THE THIRD PROBLEM
THE RATIONALE OF THE MYSTERIES
FAITH being the aspiration to the unknown, the object of faith is absolutely and necessarily this thing --- Mystery.
In order to formulate its aspirations, faith is forced to borrow aspirations and images from the n.
But she specializes the employment of these forms, by placing them together in a manner which, in known order of things, is impossible. Such is the profound reason of the apparent absurdity of smoim.
Let us give an example:
If faith said that God was impersonal, one might conclude that God is only a word, or, at most, ang.
If it is said that God was a person, one would represent to oneself the intelligent infinite, undhe necessarily bounded form of an individual.
It says, "God is one in three persons," in order to express that one conceives in God both unity multiplicity.
The formula of a mystery excludes necessarily the very intelligence of that formula, so far as itborrowed from the world of known things; for, if one understood it, it would express the known an o he unknown.
It would then belong to science, and no longer to religion, that is to say, to faith. {77}
The object of faith is a mathematical problem, whose "x" escapes the procedures of our algebra.
Absolute mathematics prove only the necessity, and, in consequence, the existence of this unknownch we represent by the untranslatable "x."
Now science progresses in vain; its progress is indefinite, but always relatively finite; it willer find in the language of the finite the complete expression of the infinite. Mystery is therefr trnal.
To bring into the logic of the known the terms of a profession of faith is to withdraw them from h, which has for positive bases anti-logic, that is to say, the impossibility of logically explaiigte unknown.
For the Jew, God is separate from humanity; He does not live in His creatures, He is infinite ego
For the Mussulman, God is a word before which one prostrates oneself, on the authority of Mohamme For the Christian, God has revealed himself in humanity, proves Himself by charity, and reigns byrue of the order which constitutes the hierarchy.
The hierarchy is the guardian of dogma, for whose letter and spirit she alike demands respect. Tectarians who, in the name of their reason or, rather, of their individual unreason, have laid had ndogma, have, in the very act, lost the spirit of charity; they have excommunicated themselves. Th Ctholic, that is to say the universal, dogma merits that magnificent name by harmonizing in ne ll he eligious aspirations of the world; with Moses and Mohammed, it affirms the unity of God;withZoroster Hermes and Plato, it recognizes in Him the infinite trinity of its own regeneration;{78} t recncile the living numbers of Pythagoras with the monadic Word of St. John;<<The author hd perhps no pace t continue with a demonstration that the Gospel legend itself is a macedoine of hose ofBacchus Adonis Osiris, and a hundred others, and that the Mass, and Christian ceremonies gnerally,have simlarly paan sources. --- O. M.>> so much, science and reason will agree. It is thn in the yes of reson and o science themselves the most perfect, that is to say the most complete dogma whih has everbeen produed in the world. Let science and reason grant us so much; we shallask nothingmore of the.
"God exists; there is only one God, and He punishes those who do evil," said Moses.
"God is everywhere; He is in us, and the good that we do to me we do it to God," said Jesus.
"Fear" is the conclusion of the dogma of Moses.
"Love" is the conclusion of the dogma of Jesus.
The typical ideal of the life of God in humanity is incarnation.
Incarnation necessitates redemption, and operates it in the name of the reversibility of solidari<This and many similar phrases employed in the controversies of the period are to-day practicallyuitlligible. Levi was at one time a kind of Socialist. --- TRANS.>> or, in other words, of univesa cmmnion, the dogmatic principle of the spirit of charity.
To substitute human arbitrament for the legitimate despotism of the law, to put, in other words, nny in the place of authority, is the work of all Protestantism and of all democracies. What mencl iberty is the sanction of illegitimate authority, or, rather, the fiction of power not sanctioedbyauhority. {79}
John Calvin protested against the stakes of Rome, in order to give himself the right to burn MichServetus. Every people that liberates itself from a Charles I, or a Louis XVI, must undergo a Roepere or a Cromwell and there is a more or less absurd anti-pope being all protestations against heleitmate papacy.
The divinity of Jesus Christ only exists in the Catholic Church, to which He transmits hierarchic His life and His divine powers. This divinity is sacerdotal and royal by virtue of communion; btotide of that communion, every affirmation of the divinity of Jesus Christ is idolatrous, becaus Jsu Crist could not be an isolated God.
The number of Protestants is of no importance to Catholic truth.
If all men were blind, would that be a reason for denying the existence of the sun?
Reason, in protesting against dogma, proves sufficiently that she has not invented it; but she isced to admire the morality which results from that dogma. Now, if morality is a light, it follow htdogma must be a sun; light does not come from shadows.
Between the two abysses of polytheism, and an absurd and ignorant theism, there is only one possimedium: the mystery of the most Holy Trinity.
Between speculative theism, and anthropomorphiosm, there is only one possible medium: the mysteryincarnation.
Between immoral fatality, and Draconic responsibility, which would conclude the damnation of all gs, there is only one possible mean: the mystery of redemption.
The trinity is faith. {80}
The incarnation is hope.
The redemption is charity.
The trinity is the hierarchy.
Incarnation is the divine authority of the Church.
Redemption is the unique, infallible, unfailing and Catholic priesthood.
The Catholic Church alone possesses an invariable dogma, and by its very constitution is incapabl corrupting morality; she does not make innovations, she explains. Thus, for example, the dogma fteimmaculate conception is not new; it was contained in the theotokon of the Council of Ephesus,an te heotokon is a rigorous consequence of the Catholic dogma of the incarnation.
In the same way the Catholic Church makes no excommunications, she declares them; and she alone ceclare them, because she alone is guardian of unity.
Outside the vessel of Peter, there is nothing but the abyss. Protestants are like people who haveown themselves into the water in order to escape sea-sickness.
It is of Catholicity, such as it is constituted in the Roman Church, that one must say what Voltaso boldly said of God: "If it did not exist, it would be necessary to invent it." But if a man hdbe capable of inventing the spirit of charity, he also would have invented God. Charity does no ivet tself, it reveals itself by its works, and it is then that one can cry with the Saviour of he orl: "lessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God!"
To understand the spirit of charity is to understand all mysteries. {81}
ARTICLE IV
SOLUTION OF THE FOURTH PROBLEM
RELIGION PROVED BY THE OBJECTIONS WHICH PEOPLE
OPPOSE TO IT.
THE objections which one may make against religion may be made either in the name of science, or he name of reason, or in the name of faith.
Science cannot deny the facts of the existence of religion, of its establishment and its influencon the events of history.
It is forbidden to it to touch dogma; dogma belongs wholly to faith.
Science ordinarily arms itself against religion with a series of facts which it is her duty to apiate, which, in fact, she does appreciate thoroughly, but which she condemns still more energeticlytan science does.
In doing that, science admits that religion is right, and herself wrong; she lacks logic, manifeshe disorder which every angry passion introduces into the spirit of man, and admits the need thati a of being ceaselessly redressed and directed by the spirit of charity.
Reason, on its side, examines dogma and finds it absurd.
But, if it were not so, reason would understand it; if reason understood it, it would no longer be formula of the unknown. {82}
It would be a mathematical demonstration of the infinite.
It would be the infinite finite, the unknown known, the immeasurable measured, the indicible name That is to say that dogma could only cease to be absurd in the eyes of reason to become, in the e f faith, science, reason and good sense in one, the most monstrous and the most impossible of al burities.
Remain the objections of dissent.
The Jews, our fathers in religion, reproach us with having attacked the unity of God, with havingnged the immutable and eternal law, with adoring the creature instead of the Creator.
These heavy reproaches are founded on their perfectly false notion of Christianity.
Our God is the God of Moses, unique, immaterial, infinite God, sole object of worship, and ever tame.
Like the Jews, we believe Him to be present everywhere, but, as they ought to do, we believe Him ng, thinking and loving in humanity, and we adore Him in His works.
We have not changed His law, for the Jewish Decalogue is also the law of Christians.
The law is immutable because it is founded on the eternal principles of Nature; but the worship nsitated by the needs of man may change, and modify itself, parallel with the changes in men themsle. This signifies that the worship itself is immutable, but modifies itself as language does.
Worship is a form of instruction; it is a language; one must translate it when nations no longer rstand it. {83}
We have translated, and not destroyed, the worship of Moses and of the prophets.
In adoring God in creation, we do not adore the creation itself.
In adoring God in Jesus Christ, it is God alone whom we adore, but God united to humanity.
In making humanity divine, Christianity has revealed the human divinity.
The God of the Jews was inhuman, because they did not understand Him in His works.
We are, then, more Israelite than the Israelites themselves. What they believe, we believe with , and better than they do. They accuse us of having separated ourselves from them, and, on the cnrr, it is they who wish to separate from us.
We wait for them, the heart and the arms wide open.
We are, as they are, the disciples of Moses.
Like them, we come from Egypt, and we detest its slavery. But we have entered into the Promised , and they obstinately abide and die in the desert.
Mohammedans are the bastards of Israel, or rather, they are his disinherited brothers, like Esau.Their belief is illogical, for they admit that Jesus is a great prophet, and they treat Christian sifidels.
They recognize the Divine inspiration of Moses, yet they do not look upon the Jews as their broth
They believe blindly in their blind prophet, the fatalist Mohammed, the enemy of progress and of rty.
Nevertheless, do not let us take away from Mohammed the {84} glory of having proclaimed the unityGod among the idolatrous Arabs.
There are pure and sublime pages in the Qur'an.
In reading those pages, one may say with the children of Ishmael, "There is no other God but God, Mohammed is his prophet."
There are three thrones in heaven for the three prophets of the nations; but, at the end of time,ammed will be replaced by Elias.
The Mussulmans do not reproach the Christians; they insult them.
They call them infidels and "giaours," that is to say, dogs. We have nothing to reply to them.
One must not refute the Turks and the Arabs; one must instruct and civilize them.
Remain dissident Christians, that is to say, those who, having broken the bond of unity, declare selves strangers to the charity of the Church.
Greek orthodoxy, that twin of the Roman Church which has not grown greater since its separation, h counts no longer in religion, which, since Photius, has not inspired a single eloquence, is a cuc ecome entirely temporal, whose priesthood is no more than a function regulated by the imperialpoic o the Tsar of All the Russias; a curious mummy of the primitive Church, still coloured and glde wih al its legends and all its rites, which its popes no longer understand; the shadow of a lvingchurh, bt one which insisted on stopping when that church moved on, and which is now no more han is bloted-ot and headless silhouette.
Then, the Protestants, those eternal regulators of anarchy, {85} who have broken down dogma, and trying always to fill the void with reasonings, like the sieve of the Danaides; these weavers of eiius fantasy, all of whose innovations are negative, who have formulated for their own use an unnon aling itself better known, mysteries better explained, a more defined infinite, a more restranedimmnsiy, a more doubting faith, those who have quintessentialized the absurd, divided charity,and akenactsof anarchy for the principles of an entirely impossible hierarchy; those men who wishto relize alvaton by faith alone, because charity escapes them, and who can no longer realize it,even uon theearth,for their pretended sacraments are no longer anything but allegorical mummeries they n longergive grce; they no longer make God seen and touched; they are no longer, in a word,the sign of the lmighty ower of faith, but the compelled witnesses of the eternal impotence of dobt.
It is, then, against faith itself that the Reformation protested! Protestants were right only in r protest against the inconsiderate and persecuting zeal which wished to force consciences. Theycamd the right to doubt, the right to have less religion than others, or even to have none at all teyhae shed their blood for that sad privilege; they conquered it, they possess it; but they wil no tae aay from us that of pitying them and loving them. When the need to believe again takes tem, hen heirheart revolts against the tyranny of a falsified reason when they become tired of theemptyabstrction of their arbitrary dogma, of the vague observances of their ineffective worship; hen thir comunion ithout the real presence, their churches without divinity, and their morality wthout gace finlly frihten {86} them; when they are sick with the nostalgia of God --- will they nt rise u like th prodiga son, and come to throw themselves at the feet of the successor of Peter,saying: "ather, wehave sinnd against heaven and in thy sight, and we are no more worthy to be caled thy son, but coun us among he humblest of thy servants"?
We will not speak of the criticism of Voltaire. That great mind was dominated by an ardent love ruth and justice, but he lacked that rectitude of heart which the intelligence of faith gives. Vlar could not admit faith, because he did not know how to love. The spirit of charity did not reea isef to that soul which had no tenderness, and he bitterly criticized the hearth of which he dd nt fel he warmth, and the lamp of which he did not see the light. If religion were such as he aw i, hewoul have been a thousand times right to attack it, and one would be obliged to fall on oe's kees bfore he heroism of his courage. Voltaire would be the Messiah of good sense, the Herculs destuctor f fanaicism. ... But he laughed too much to understand Him who said: "Happy are they ho weep" and te philoophy of laughter will never have anything in common with the religion of teas.
Voltaire parodied the Bible, dogma and worship; and then he mocked and insulted that parody.
Only those who recognize religion in Voltaire's parody can take offence at it. The Voltaireans aike the frogs in the fable who leap upon the log, and then make fun of royal majesty. They are a iety to take the log for a king, they are at liberty to make once more that Roman caricature of hih erullian once made mirth, that which represented the {87} God of the Christians under the figre f amanwith an ass's head. Christians will shrug their shoulders when they see this knavery, ad pry Go forthe poor ignorants who imagine that they insult them.
M. the Count Joseph de Maistre, after having, in one of his most eloquent paradoxes, represented hangman as a sacred being, and a permanent incarnation of divine justice upon earth, suggested thtoeshould raise to the old man of Ferney a statue executed by the hangman. There is depth in thisthugt. Voltaire, in effect, also was, in the world, a being at the same time providential and fatl, ndoed ith insensibility for the accomplishment of his terrible functions. He was, in the doman ofinteligece, a hangman, an extirminator armed by the justice of God Himself.
God sent Voltaire between the century of Bossuet and that of Napoleon in order to destroy everyththat separates those two geniuses and to unite them in one alone.
He was the Samson of the spirit, always ready to shake the columns of the temple; but in order toe him turn in spite of himself the mill of religious progress, Providence made him blind of heart
{88}
ARTICLE V
SOLUTION OF THE LAST PROBLEM
TO SEPARATE RELIGION FROM SUPERSTITION AND FANATICISM
SUPERSTITION, from the Latin word "superstes," surviving, is the sign which survives the idea whit represents; it is the form preferred to the thing, the rite without reason, faith become insenst hough isolating itself. It is in consequence the corpse of religion, the death of life, stupefctonsustituted for inspiration.
Fanaticism is superstition become passionate, its name comes from the word "fanum," which signifitemple," it is the temple put in place of God, it is the human and temporal interest of the pries usituted for the honour of priesthood, the wretched passion of the man exploiting the faith of te elevr.
In the fable of the ass loaded with relics, La Fontaine tells us that the animal thought that he being adored; he did not tell us that certain people indeed thought that they were adoring the anml These people were the superstitious.
If any one had laughed at their stupidity, he would very likely have been assassinated, for from rstition to fanaticism is only one step.
Superstition is religion interpreted by stupidity; fanaticism is religion serving as a pretext toy.
Those who intentionally and maliciously confound religion {89} itself with superstition and fanatm, borrow from stupidity its blind prejudices, and would borrow perhaps in the same way from fanaiimits injustices and angers.
Inquisitors or Septembrisors,<<Those who took part in the massacres of the Revolution of the 4th ember, 1792. --- TRANS.>> what matter names? The religion of Jesus Christ condemns, and has alway odmned, assassins.
{90}
RESUME OF THE FIRST PART
IN THE FORM OF A DIALOGUE
FAITH, SCIENCE, REASON.
SCIENCE. You will never make me believe in the existence of God.
FAITH. You have not the privilege of believing, but you will never prove to me that God does notst.
SCIENCE. In order to prove it to you, I must first know what God is.
FAITH. You will never know it. If you knew it, you could teach it to me; and when I knew it, I ld no longer believe it.
SCIENCE. Do you then believe without knowing what you believe?
FAITH. Oh, do not let us play with words! It is you who do not know what I believe, and I beliet precisely because you do not know it. Do you pretend to be infinite? Are you not stopped at eeysep by mystery? Mystery is for you an infinite ignorance which would reduce to nothing your finteknwldge, if I did not illumine it with my burning aspirations; and if, when you say, "I no longr kow, I id not cry, "As for me, I begin to believe."
SCIENCE. But your aspirations and their object are not (and cannot be for me) anything but hypots. {91}
FAITH. Doubtless, but they are certainties for me, since without those hypotheses I should be doul even about your certainties.
SCIENCE. But if you begin where I stop, you begin always too rashly and too soon. My progress b witness that I am ever advancing.
FAITH. What does your progress matter, if I am always walking in front of you?
SCIENCE. You, walking! Dreamer of eternity, you have disdained earth too much; your feet are beed.
FAITH. I make my children carry me.
SCIENCE. They are the blind carrying the blind; beware of precipices!
FAITH. No, my children are by no means blind; on the contrary, they enjoy twofold sight: they sey thine eyes, what thou canst show them upon earth, and they contemplate, by mine, what I show thmi eaven.
SCIENCE. What does Reason think of it?
REASON. I think, my dear teachers, that you illustrate a touching fable, that of the blind man ahe paralytic. Science reproaches Faith with not knowing how to walk upon the earth, and Faith sasta Science sees nothing of her aspirations and of eternity in the sky. Instead of quarrelling, cinc ad Faith ought to unite; let Science carry Faith, and let Faith console Science by teaching er o hpe nd to love!
SCIENCE. It is a fine ideal, but Utopian. Faith will tell me absurdities. I prefer to walk wit her.
FAITH. What do you call absurdities?
SCIENCE. I call absurdities propositions contrary to my demonstrations; as, for example, that thmake one, that a {92} God has become man, that is to say, that the Infinite has made itself finit,ta the Eternal died, that God punished his innocent Son for the sin of guilty men. ...
FAITH. Say no more about it. As enunciated by you, these propositions are in fact absurdities. you know what is the number of God, you who do not know God? Can you reason about the operationso h unknown? Can you understand the mysteries of charity? I must always be absurd for you; for,ifyo uderstood them, my affirmations would be absorbed by your theorems; I should be you, and youwoud b me or, to put it better, I should no longer exist, and Reason, in the presence of the infiite,woul hal, blinded for evermore by your doubts, which are as infinite as space.
SCIENCE. At least, you should never usurp my authority, or give me the lie in my own domains.
FAITH. I have never done so, and I could never do so.
SCIENCE. So! You have never believed, for example, that a virgin could become a mother, withoutsing to be a virgin, in the physical, natural, positive order of things, in spite of all the lawso aure; you do not affirm that a piece of bread is not only a God, but a real human body with itsboesan its veins, its organs, its blood; such, in short, that you make of your children who eat tis rea a ittle race of cannibals.
FAITH. There is not a single Christian who would not be revolted by what you have just said. Thufficiently proves that they do not understand my teachings in this positive and gross sense. Th uenatural which I affirm is above Nature, and consequently could never oppose itself to her; thewodsofFaith are understood only by Faith; Science has only to repeat them to pervert their propersene. I eploy these {93} words because I have no others; but since you find my remarks absurd, yo shold cnclue from that that I give to the same words a meaning which escapes you. When the Saviur reealedthe dgma of the real presence, did he not say: "The flesh profiteth nothing, but my wors are pirit nd lif." I do not give you the mystery of the incarnation for an anatomical phenomenn, nor hat of ransubsantiation for a chemical manipulation. By what right do you exclaim "Absurd"? I donot reasn about ny of the things you know; by what right do you say that I talk unreasonaly?
SCIENCE. I begin to understand you, or rather, I see that I shall never understand you. This beso, let us remain separate; I shall never have need of you.
FAITH. I am less proud, and I recognize that you may be useful to me perhaps. Perhaps, too, youl be very sad and very desperate without me, and I will not leave you unless Reason consents.
REASON. Be well 'ware of doing so! I am necessary to both of you. And I, what should I do withyou? In order to be just, I need to know and to believe. But I must never confound what I know ihwat I believe. To know is to believe no longer; to believe is not to know as yet. The object f cinc is the known; Faith does not occupy itself with that, and leaves it all to Science. The ojec ofFaih is the unknown; Science may seek it, but not define it; she is then obliged, at least roviionaly, o accept the definitions of Faith which it is impossible for her even to criticize. nly, f Scince rnounces Faith, she renounces hope and love, whose existence and necessity are as eident or Scince asfor Faith. Faith, as a psychological fact, pertains to the realm of {94} Scienc; and Sience, s the mnifestation of the light of God within the human intelligence, pertains to te realm f Faith. Scienceand Faith must then admit each other, respect each other mutually, suppor each othr, and ber each oter aid in case of need, but without ever encroaching the one upon the ther. Themeans of uiting themis --- never to confound them. Never can there be contradiction beween them, or althoughthey use th same words,, they do not speak the same language.
FAITH. Oh, well, Sister Science; what do you say about it?
SCIENCE. I say that we are separated by a deplorable misunderstanding, and that henceforward we l be able to walk together. But to which of your different creeds do you wish to attach me? ShalIb Jewish, Catholic, Mohammedan, or Protestant?
FAITH. You will remain Science, and you will be universal.
SCIENCE. That is to say, Catholic, if I understand you correctly. But what should I think of thfferent religions?
FAITH. Judge them by their works. Seek true Charity, and when you have found her, ask her to whreligion she belongs.
SCIENCE. It is certainly not to that of the Inquisition, and of the authors of the Massacre of Sartholomew.
FAITH. It is to that of St. John the Almoner, of St. Francois de Sales,<<Levi was certainly nevee dupe of this boudoir Theologian. He accepted him without perusal, as the Englishman accepts Shksere and Milton. --- O. M.>> of St. Vincent de Paul, of Fenelon, and so many more. {95}
SCIENCE. Admit that if religion has produced much good, she has also done much evil.
FAITH. When one kills in the name of the God who said, "Thou shalt not kill,"<<And habitually coded the rape of virgins and the massacre of children. 1 Sam. xv. 3, etc. --- O. M.>> when one pescts in the name of Him who commands us to forgive our enemies, when one propagates darkness in te am o Him who tells us not to hide the light under a bushel, is it just to attribute the crime t th vey lw which condemns it? Say, if you wish to be just, that in spite of religion, much evil as ben dne uon earth. But also, to how many virtues has it not given birth? How many are the deotion, howmany he sacrifices, of which we do not know! Have you counted those noble hearts, bothmen an women who rnounced all joys to enter the service of all sorrows? Those souls devoted to lbour an to praer, whohave strewn their pathways with good deeds? Who founded asylums for orphansand old en, hosptals forthe sick, retreats for the repentant? These institutions, as glorious asthey are odest, ar the realworks with which the annals of the Church are filled; religious wars ad the perscution of eretics beong to the politics of savage centuries. The heretics, moreover, wre themselvs murderers Have you orgotten the burning of Michael Servetus and the massacre of ourpriests, renwed, still i the name ofhumanity and reason, by the revolutionaries who hated the Inqisition and te Massacre ofSt. Bartholomw? Men are always cruel, it is true, but only when they frget the religon whose watchords are blessng and pardon.
SCIENCE. O Faith! Pardon me, then, if I cannot believe; {96} but I know now why you believe. Ipect your hopes, and share your desires. But I must find by seeking; and in order to seek, I mustdut
REASON. Work, then, and seek, O Science, but respect the oracles of Faith! When your doubt leav gap in universal enlightenment, allow Faith to fill it! Walk distinguished the one from the othr u leaning the one upon the other, and you will never go astray.
{97}
PART II
PHILOSOPHICAL MYSTERIES
PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS
IT has been said that beauty is the splendour of truth.
Now moral beauty is goodness. It is beautiful to be good.
To be intelligently good, one must be just.
To be just, one must act reasonably.
To act reasonably, one must have the knowledge of reality.
To have the knowledge of reality, one must have consciousness of truth.
To have consciousness of truth, one must have an exact notion of being.
Being, truth, reason and justice are the common objects of the researches of science, and of the rations of faith. The conceptions, whether real or hypothetical, of a supreme power transform jutc nto Providence; and the notion of divinity, from this point of view, becomes accessible to scinc hrslf.
Science studies Being in its partial manifestation; faith supposes it, or rather admits it "a pri as a whole.
Science seeks the truth in everything; faith refers everything to an universal and absolute truth Science records realities in detail: faith explains them by {98} totalized reality to which scien anot bear witness, but which the very existence of the details seems to force her to recognize adtoadit.
Science submits the reasons of persons and things to the universal mathematical reason; faith seeor rather supposes, an intelligent and absolute reason for (and above) mathematics themselves.
Science demonstrates justice by justness; faith gives an absolute justness to justice, in subording it to Providence.
One sees here all that faith borrows from science, and all that science, in its turn, owes to fai Without faith, science is circumscribed by an absolute doubt, and finds itself eternally penned wn the risky empiricism of a reasoning scepticism; without science, faith constructs its hypothese trndom, and can only blindly prejudge the causes of the effects of which she is ignorant.
The great chain which reunites science and faith is analogy.
Science is obliged to respect a belief whose hypotheses are analogous to demonstrated truths. Fa which attributes everything to God, is obliged to admit science as being a natural revelation whc,b the partial manifestation of the laws of eternal reason, gives a scale of proportion to all te spraions and to all the excursions of the soul into the domain of the unknown.
It is, then, faith alone that can give a solution to the mysteries of science; and in return, it cience alone that demonstrates the necessity of the mysteries of faith.
Outside the union and the concourse of these two living forces of the intelligence, there is for nce nothing but {99} scepticism and despair, for faith nothing but rashness and fanaticism.
If faith insults science, she blasphemes; if science misunderstand faith, she abdicates.
Now let us hear them speak in harmony!
"Being is everywhere," says science. "it is multiple and variable in its forms, unique in its ess, and immutable in its laws. The relative demonstrates the existence of the absolute. Intelligec xsts in being. Intelligence animates and modifies matter."
"Intelligence is everywhere," says faith; "Life is nowhere fatal because it is ruled. This rule he expression of supreme Wisdom. The absolute in intelligence, the supreme regulator of forms, telvng ideal of spirits, is God."
"In its identity with the ideal, being is truth," says science.
"In its identity with the ideal, truth is God," replies faith.
"In its identity with my demonstrations, being is reality," says science.
"In its identity with my legitimate aspirations, reality is my dogma," says faith.
"In its identity with the Word, being is reason," says science.
"In its identity with the spirit of charity, the highest reason is my obedience," says faith.
"In its identity with the motive of reasonable acts, being is justice," says science.
"In its identity with the principle of charity, justice is Providence," replies faith.
Sublime harmony of all certainties with all hopes, of the {100} absolute in intelligence with theolute in love! The Holy Spirit, the spirit of charity, should then conciliate all, and transformalito His own light. Is it not the spirit of intelligence, the spirit of science, the spirit of ouse, he spirit of force? "He must come," says the Catholic liturgy, "and it will be, as it were a ew reaion; and He will change the face of the earth."
"To laugh at philosophy is already to philosophize," said Pascal, referring to that sceptical andredulous philosophy which does not recognize faith. And if there existed a faith which trampled cec underfoot, we should not say that to laugh at such a faith would be a true act of religion, fr elgin, which is all charity, does not tolerate mockery; but one would be right in blaming this oveforignrance, and in saying to this rash faith, "Since you slight your sister, you are not the augher o God"
Truth, reality, reason, justice, Providence, these are the five rays of the flamboyant star in thntre of which science will write the word "being," --- to which faith will add the ineffable nameo o.
SOLUTION OF THE PHILOSOPHICAL
PROBLEMS
FIRST SERIES
QUESTION. What is truth?
ANSWER. Idea identical with being. {101}<<WEH NOTE: Obvious error: confusion of map with territo>
Q. What is reality?
A. Knowledge identical with being.
Q. What is reason?
A. The Word identical with being.
Q. What is justice?
A. The motive of acts identical with being.
Q. What is the absolute?
A. Being.
Q. Can one conceive anything superior to being?
A. No; but one conceives in being itself something supereminent and transcendental.
Q. What is that?
A. The supreme reason of being.
Q. Do you know it, and can you define it?
A. Faith alone affirms it, and names it God.
Q. Is there anything above truth?
A. Above known truth, there is unknown truth.
Q. How can one construct reasonable hypotheses with regard to this truth?
A. By analogy and proportion.
Q. How can one define it?
A. By the symbols of faith.
Q. Can one say of reality the same thing as of truth?
A. Exactly the same thing.
Q. Is there anything above reason?
A. Above finite reason, there is infinite reason.
Q. What is infinite reason?
A. It is that supreme reason of being that faith calls God.<<WEH NOTE: This is the characteristirase of the philosophy of 18th century enlightenment: "God is Reason" --- also the characteristicerr 19th century philosophy continued this into Determinism and the now discredited concept of "atra Lw".>>
Q. Is there anything above justice? {102}
A. Yes; according to faith, there is the Providence of God, and the sacrifice of man.
Q. What is this sacrifice?
A. It is the willing and spontaneous surrender of right.
Q. Is this sacrifice reasonable?
A. No; it is a kind of folly greater than reason, for reason is forced to admire it.
Q. How does one call a man who acts according to truth, reality, reason and justice?
A. A moral man.
Q. And if he sacrifices his interests to justice?
A. A man of honour.
Q. And if in order to imitate the grandeur and goodness of Providence he does more than his dutyd sacrifices his right to the good of others?
A. A hero.
Q. What is the principle of true heroism?
A. Faith.
Q. What is its support?
A. Hope.
Q. And its rule?
A. Charity.
Q. What is the Good?
A. Order.
Q. What is the Evil?
A. Disorder.
Q. What is permissible pleasure?
A. Enjoyment of order.
Q. What is forbidden pleasure?
A. Enjoyment of disorder. {103}
Q. What are the consequences of each?
A. Moral life and moral death.
Q. Has then hell, with all its horrors, its justification in religious dogma?
A. Yes; it is a rigorous consequence of a principle.
Q. What is this principle?
A. Liberty.
Q. What is liberty?
A. The right to do one's duty, with the possibility of not doing it.
Q. What is failing in one's duty?
A. It involves the loss of one's right. Now, right being eternal, to lose it is to suffer an etl loss.
Q. Can one repair a fault?
A. Yes; by expiation.
Q. What is expiation?
A. Working overtime. Thus, because I was lazy yesterday, I had to do a double task to-day.
Q. What are we to think of those who impose on themselves voluntary sufferings?
A. If they do so in order to overcome the brutal fascination of pleasure, they are wise; if to sr instead of others, they are generous; but if they do it without discretion and without measure,te re imprudent.
Q. Thus, in the eyes of true philosophy, religion is wise in all that it ordains?
A. You see that it is so.
Q. But if, after all, we were deceived in our eternal hopes?
A. Faith does not admit that doubt. But philosophy herself should reply that all the pleasures he earth are not {104} worth one day of wisdom, and that all the triumphs of ambition are not worhasngle minute of heroism and of charity.
SECOND SERIES
QUESTION. What is man?
ANSWER. Man is an intelligent and corporeal being made in the image of God and of the world, oneessence, triple in substance, mortal and immortal.
Q. You say, "triple in substance." Has man, then, two souls or two bodies?
A. No; there is in him a spiritual soul, a material body, and a plastic medium.
Q. What is the substance of this medium?
A. Light, partially volatile, and partially fixed.
Q. What is the volatile part of this light?
A. Magnetic fluid.<<WEH NOTE: This passage derives from the efforts of Newton, Mesmer and othersquantify the astral body. 18th and 19th century efforts to measure ectoplasm, oddic force, etc. n ophysically measure an essence of life have persisted to the verge of the 21st century in a strng peuo-science. At least in the 18th and 19th centuries there was the idea of the luminous Aeyter s aparial justification for this sort of thing. Now it is generally considered a curiosity deendet onsubjctive measurement without the objective external instrumentation required by hard scince. This oncep has led to a vast array of quack medical theories and the loss of otherwise promiing phlosophes. Blwar Lytton used the idea; W. Reich was imprisoned for trying to cure with it. rowley ost muc time oer it in his later years in trying to market his Amrita derivations. The fuure may isclose ome subsance here, but it tends to "confusion of the planes" more often than not.>
Q. And the fixed part?
A. The fluidic or fragrant body.
Q. Is the existence of this body demonstrated?
A. Yes; by the most curious and the most conclusive experiences. We shall speak of them in the d part of this work.
Q. Are these experiences articles of faith?
A. No, they pertain to science.<<WEH NOTE: Although this is not essential to Thelema, Crowley'sendence on it is a measure of his place in time. "The Method of Science. The Aim of Religion." - alid perspective, but not without potential for misapplication. This, more than anything else i te nfluence of Levi on Crowley's philosophy. Accidents of emphasis in Levi's works often becae sedsforfruitless avenues of research in Crowley's effort.>>
Q. But will science preoccupy herself with it?
A. She already preoccupies herself with it. We have written this book and you are reading it.
Q. Give us some notions of this plastic medium.
A. It is formed of astral or terrestrial light, and transmits {105} the double magnetization of o the human body. The soul, by acting on this light through its volitions, can dissolve it or coglt it, project it or withdraw it. It is the mirror of the imagination and of dreams. It reactsupn henervous system, and thus produces the movements of the body. This light can dilate itself ndeiniely and communicate its reflections at considerable distances; it magnetizes the bodies subitte to he ation of man, and can, by concentrating itself, again draw them to him. It can take al theformsevoke by thought, and, in the transitory coagulations of its radiant particles, appear o the yes; i can een offer a sort of resistance to the touch. But these manifestations and uses f the pastic mdium beng abnormal, the luminous instrument of precision cannot produce them withou being srained, nd thereis danger of either habitual hallucination, or of insanity.
Q. What is animal magnetism?
A. The action of one plastic medium upon another, in order to dissolve or coagulate it. By augmng the elasticity of the vital light and its force of projection, one sends it forth as far as on il and withdraws it completely loaded with images; but this operation must be favoured by the slmbr f he subject, which one produces by coagulating still further the fixed part of his medium.
Q. Is magnetism contrary to morality and religion?
A. Yes, when one abuses it.
Q. In what does the abuse of it consist?
A. In employing it in a disordered manner, or for a disordered object.
Q. What is a disordered magnetism? {106}
A. An unwholesome fluidic emission, made with a bad intention; for example, to know the secrets thers, or to arrive at unworthy ends.
Q. What is the result of it?
A. It puts out of order the fluidic instrument of precision, both in the case of the magnetizer of the magnetized. To this cause one must attribute the immoralities and the follies with which ra number of those who occupy themselves with magnetism are reproached.
Q. What conditions are required in order to magnetize properly?
A. Health of spirit and body; right intention, and discreet practice.
Q. What advantageous results can one obtain by discreet magnetism?
A. The cure of nervous diseases, the analysis of presentiments, the re- establishment of fluidicmonies, and the rediscovery of certain secrets of Nature.
Q. Explain that to us in a more complete manner.
A. We shall do so in the third part of this work, which will treat specially of the mysteries ofure.
{107}
PART III
THE MYSTERIES OF NATURE
THE GREAT MAGICAL AGENT
WE have spoken of a substance extended in the infinite.
{Illustration on page 108 described:
This is sub-titled below "THE TENTH KEY OF THE TAROT".
It is a type of the Wheel of Fortune. The wheel itself is erected on a wooden post, and has a crankixed to the hub. There is no image of Fortuna to turn it. The base of the post is held by a blutdule crescent on the ground, rounded horns slightly up and in parallel like a hot-dog bun. Two osd erents issue from the base, cross once and arch toward the post just below the wheel. The whel s dubl, having an outer and an inner ring with eight spokes running through both rims. The spkes ave cirular expansion with central hole inside and a bit short of the inner rim. These spoks appar tobe rieted to the inner rim. At the top of the wheel is the Nemesis seated on a platfor as a phinx ith a word: head cloth, stern male face and woman's breasts, winged. The sword is hit to whel and p to let. "ARCHEE" is written over the wing to the left. Risking on the right of te wheel s a Hermnubus orvariation of Serapis: Dog's head, human body, carries a caduceus half hiden behindhead and heel, leg before wheel. "AZOTH" is written above the head of this figure. A dmon reminicent of Prteus desceds the wheel on the left. His head is bearded and horned, his legs re tentaculr and finne. He carris a trident below. "HYLE" is written below his head.}
That substance is one which is heaven and earth; that is to say, according to its degrees of polation, subtle or fixed. {108}
This substance is what Hermes Trismegistus calls the great "Telesma." When it produces splendour,is called Light.
It is this substance which God creates before everything else, when He says, "Let there be light. It is at once substance and movement.
It is fluid, and a perpetual vibration.
Its inherent force which set it is motion is called "magnetism."
In the infinite, this unique substance is the ether, or the etheric light.
In the stars which it magnetizes, it becomes astral light.
In organized beings, light, or magnetic fluid.
In man it forms the "astral body," or the "plastic medium."
The will of intelligent beings acts directly on this light, and by means of it on all that part oture which is submitted to the modifications of intelligence.
This light is the common mirror of all thoughts and all forms; it preserves the images of everyththat has been, the reflections of past worlds, and, by analogy, the sketches of worlds to come. ti he instrument of thaumaturgy and divination, as remains for us to explain in the third and las prtofthis work. {109}
FIRST BOOK
MAGNETIC MYSTERIES
CHAPTER I
THE KEY OF MESMERISM
MESMER rediscovered the secret science of Nature; he did not invent it.
The first unique and elementary substance whose existence he proclaims in his aphorisms, was know Hermes and Pythagoras.
Synesius, who sings it in his hymns, had found it revealed in the Platonistic records of the Schof Alexandria:
GR:Mu-iota-alpha pi-alpha-gamma-alpha mu-iota-alpha
rho-iota-zeta-alpha
Tau-rho-iota-phi-alpha-eta-sigma
epsilon-lambda-alpha-mu-pi-epsilon
mu-omicron-rho-phi-alpha
. . . . . . .
Pi-epsilon-rho-iota gamma-alpha-rho
sigma-pi-alpha-rho-epsilon-iota-sigma-alpha
pi-nu-omicron-iota-alpha
Chi-theta-omicron-nu-omicron-sigma
epsilon-zeta-omega-omega-sigma-epsilon
mu-omicron-iota-rho-alpha-sigma
Pi-omicron-lambda-upsilon-delta-alpha-iota-delta-alpha-
lambda omicron-iota-sigma-iota
mu-omicron-rho-alpha-iota-sigma
"A single source, a single root of light, jets out and spreads itself into three branches of spler. A breath blows round the earth, and vivifies in innumerable forms all parts of animated substne"(HYMN II --- "Synesius.")
Mesmer saw in elementary matter a substance indifferent to movement as to rest. Submitted to movt, it is volatile; fallen back into rest, it is fixed; and he did not understand that movement isihrnt in the first substance; that it results, not from its indifference, but from its aptitude, omind ith a movement and a rest which are equilibrated {110} the one by the other; that absolute estis owhre in universal living matter, but that the fixed attracts the volatile in order to fix t; wile he vlatile attacks the fixed in order to volatilize it. That the supposed rest of partices aparenty fixd, in nothing but a more desperate struggle and a greater tension of their fluidicforces whichby neuralizing each other make themselves immobile. It is thus that, as Hermes says,that whch is aove is ike that which is below; the same force which expands steam, contracts and hrdens th icicle;<WEH NOT: Nice point, but the icicle is an exception. Because of its unusual proerties, wter expans when itfreezes. Much of this section reprises the kinetic theories of Thermoynamics, rcently demnstrated i the time preceding Levi's writings. These theories are here unite to the ides describedby Macrobiu and attributed to the ancients.>> everything obeys the laws of ife which ar inherent inthe originalsubstance; this substance attracts and repels, in coagulates tself and disolves itself,with a constat harmony; it is double; it is androgynous; it embraces itelf, and fertiizes itself, i struggles, trumphs, destroys, renews; but never abandons itself to iertia, because nertia, for it,would be death. It is this original substance to which the hieratic recital of Genesis refers when the word of El creates light by commanding it to exist.
The Elohim said, "Let there be light!" and there was light.
This light, whose Hebrew name is HB:Aleph-Vau-Resh, "aour," is the fluidic and living gold of themetic philosophy. Its positive principle is their sulphur; its negative principle, their mercury n ts equilibrated principles form what they call their salt.
One must then, in place of the sixth aphorism of Mesmer which reads thus: "Matter is indifferent o whether it is in movement or at rest," establish this proposition: "The universal matter is comeldto movement by its double magnetization, and its fate is to seek equilibrium." {111}
Whence one may deduce these corollaries:
Regularity and variety in movement result from the different combinations of equilibrium.
A point equilibrated on all sides remains at rest, for the very reason that it is endowed with mo.
Fluid consists of rapidly moving matter, always stirred by the variation of the balancing forces.A solid is the same matter in slow movement, or at apparent rest because it is more or less solidyblnced.
There is no solid body which would not immediately be pulverized, vanish in smoke, and become invle if the equilibrium of its molecules were to cease suddenly.
There is no fluid which would not instantly become harder than the diamond, if one could equilibrits constituent molecules.<<WEH NOTE: These observations betray an understandably inadequate knoweg f Thermodymanics.>>
To direct the magnetic forces is then to destroy or create forms; to produce to all appearance, o destroy bodies; it is to exercise the almighty power of Nature.
Our plastic medium is a magnet which attracts or repels the astral light under the pressure of thll. It is a luminous body which reproduces with the greatest ease forms corresponding to ideas.
It is the mirror of the imagination. This body is nourished by astral light just as the organic is nourished by the products of the earth. During slumber, it absorbs the astral light by immerso,ad during waking, by a kind of somewhat slow respiration. When the phenomena of natural somnamulsmar produced, the plastic medium is surcharged with ill-digested nourishment. The will, althogh oun bythe torpor of slumber, repels instinctively the medium {112} towards the organs in orderto dsengge i, and a reaction, of mechanical nature, takes place, which with the movement of the bdy eqilibrtes te light of the medium. It is for that reason that it {is} so dangerous to wake sonambulsts sudenly,for the gorged medium may then withdraw itself suddenly towards the common resevoir, ad abandn the ogans altogether; these are then separated from the soul, and death is the reult.
The state of somnambulism, whether natural or artificial, is then extremely dangerous, because inting the phenomena of the waking state and the state of slumber, it constitutes a sort of straddl ewen two worlds. The soul moves the springs of the particular life while bathing itself in the nierallife, and experiences an inexpressible sense of well-being; it will then willingly let go te nrvos banches which hold it suspended above the current. In ecstasies of every kind the situaton i thesame If the will plunges into it with a passionate effort, or even abandons itself entirly toit, te subect may become insane or paralysed, or even die.
Hallucinations and vision result from wounds inflicted on the plastic medium, and from its local lysis. Sometimes it ceases to give forth rays, and substitutes images condensed somehow or othert elities shown by the light; sometimes it radiates with too much force, and condense itself outsdean aound some chance and irregulated nucleus, as blood does in some bodily growths. Then the cimeas f or brain take on a body, and seem to take on a soul; we appear to ourselves radiant or deorme accrdin to the image of the ideal of our desires, or our fears.
Hallucinations, being the dreams of waking persons, {113} always imply a state analogous to somnaism. But in a contrary sense; somnambulism is slumber borrowing its phenomena from waking; halluiain is waking still partially subjected to the astral intoxication of slumber.
Our fluidic bodies attract and repulse each other following laws similar to those of electricity. is this which produces instinctive sympathies and antipathies. They thus equilibrate each other n or this reason hallucinations are often contagious; abnormal projections change the luminous crrnt; he perturbation caused by a sick person wins over to itself the more sensitive natures; a crcl ofillsions is established, and a whole crowd of people is easily dragged away thereby. Such s th hisory f strange apparitions and popular prodigies. Thus are explained the miracles of the mericn medums ad the hysterics of table-turners, who reproduce in our own times the ecstasies of hirlin dervihes. he sorcerers of Lapland with their magic drums, and the conjurer medicine-men o savage arriveat simiar results by similar proceedings; their gods or their devils have nothing t do withit.
Madmen and idiots are more sensitive to magnetism than people of sound minds; it should be easy tderstand the reason of that: very little is required to turn completely the head of a drunken man n ne more easily acquires a disease when all the organs are predisposed to submit to its impresson, ndmanifest its disorders.<<WEH NOTE: This predates the general acceptance of the germ theoryof isese.>
Fluidic maladies have their fatal crises. Every abnormal tension of the nervous apparatus ends ie contrary tension, according to the necessary laws of equilibrium. An exaggerated love changes oaesion, and every exalted hate comes very {114} near to love; the reaction happens suddenly withth fam and violence of the thunderbolt. Ignorance then laments it or exclaims against it; scienc reign itelf, and remains silent.
There are two loves, that of the heart, and that of the head: the love of the heart never exciteself, it gathers itself together, and grows slowly by the path of ordeal and sacrifice; purely nerosad passionate cerebral love lives only on enthusiasm, dashes itself against all duties, treats hebeovd object as a prize of conquest, is selfish, exacting, restless, tyrannical, and is fated t drg aterit either suicide as the final catastrophe, or adultery as a remedy. These phenomena ar contantlikenature, inexorable as fatality.
A young artist full of courage, with her future all before her, had a husband, an honest man, a sr after knowledge, a poet, whose only fault was an excess of love for her; she outraged him and lf i, and has continued to hate him ever since. Yet she, too, is a decent woman; the pitiless word,hoevr, judges and condemns her. And yet, this was not her crime. Her fault, if one may be perittd t reroach her with one, was that, at first, she madly and passionately loved her husband.
"But," you will say, "is not the human soul, then, free?" No, it is no longer free when it has aoned itself to the giddiness caused by passion. It is only wisdom which is free; disordered passosae the kingdom of folly, and folly is fatality.
What we have said of love may equally well be said of religion, which is the most powerful, but athe most intoxicating, of all loves. Religious passion has also its excesses {115} and its fatalratons. One may have ecstasies and stigmata like St. Francis of Assisi, and fall afterwards intoabsss f debauch and impiety.
Passionate natures are highly charged magnets; they attract or repel with violence.
It is possible to magnetize in two ways: first, in acting by will upon the plastic medium of anotperson, whose will and whose acts are, in consequence, subordinated to that action.
Secondly, in acting through the will of another, either by intimidation, or by persuasion, so thae influenced will modifies at our pleasure the plastic medium and the acts of that person.
One magnetizes by radiation, by contact, by look, or by word.
The vibrations of the voice modify the movement of the astral light, and are a powerful vehicle ognetism.
The warm breath magnetizes positively, and the cold breath negatively.
A warm and prolonged insufflation upon the spinal column at the base of the cerebellum may occasirotic phenomena.
If one puts the right hand upon the head and the left hand under the feet of a person completely loped with wool or silk, one causes the magnetic spark to pass completely through the body, and oemythus occasion a nervous revolution in his organism with the rapidity of lightning.
Magnetic passes only serve to direct the will of the magnetizer in confirming it by acts. They aigns and nothing more. The act of the will is expressed and not operated by these signs. {116}
Powdered charcoal absorbs and retains the astral light. This explains the magic mirror of Dupote Figures traced in charcoal appear luminous to a magnetized person, and take, for him, following tdrection indicated by the will of the magnetizer, the most gracious or the most terrifying forms. heastral light, or rather the vital light, of the plastic medium, absorbed by the charcoal, becme woll negative; for this reason animals which are tormented by electricity, as for example, cat, lve o rol themselves upon coal.<<WEH NOTE: More simply, as a conductor, carbon removes unpleasnt saticelecticity.>> One day, medicine will make use of this property, and nervous persons wil findgreatrelieffrom it.
CHAPTER II
LIVE AND DEATH. --- SLEEP AND WAKING
SLEEP is an incomplete death; death is a complete sleep.
Nature subjects us to sleep in order to accustom us to the idea of death, and warns us by dreams he persistence of another life.
The astral light into which sleep plunges us is like an ocean in which innumerable images are afl flotsam of wrecked existences, mirages and reflections of those which pass, presentiments of thoewih are about to be.
Our nervous disposition attracts to us those images which correspond to our agitation, to the natof our fatigue, just as a magnet, moved among particles of various metals, would attract to itsel n hoose particularly the iron filings. {117}
Dreams reveal to us the sickness or the health, the calm or the disturbance, of our plastic mediund consequently, also, that of our nervous apparatus.
They formulate our presentiments by the analogy which the images bear to them.
For all ideas have a double significance for us, relating to our double life.
There exists a language of sleep; in the waking state it is impossible to understand it, or even rder its words.
The language of slumber is that of nature, hieroglyphic in its character, and rhythmical in its ss.
Slumber may be either giddy or lucid.
Madness is a permanent state of vertiginous somnambulism.
A violent disturbance may wake madmen to sense, or kill them.
Hallucinations, when they obtain the adhesion of the intelligence, are transitory attacks of madn
Every mental fatigue provokes slumber; but if the fatigue is accompanied by nervous irritation, tlumber may be incomplete, and take on the character of somnambulism.
One sometimes goes to sleep without knowing it in the midst of real life; and then instead of thig, one dreams.
How is it that we remember things which have never happened to us? Because we dreamt them when wiwake.
This phenomenon of involuntary and unperceived sleep when it suddenly traverses real life, often ens to those who over-excite their nervous organism by excesses either of work, vigil, drink, or rtim. {118}
Monomaniacs are asleep when they perform unreasonable acts. They no longer remember anything on ng.
When Papvoine was arrested by the police, he calmly said to them these remarkable words: "You areing the other for me."
It was the somnambulist who was still speaking.
Edgar Poe, that unhappy man of genius who used to intoxicate himself, has terribly described the ambulism of monomaniacs. Sometimes it is an assassin who hears, and who thinks that everybody her,trough the wall of the tomb, the beating of his victim's heart; sometimes it is a poisoner who,bydit f saying to himself, "I am safe, provided I do not go and denounce myself," ends by dreamin alud hathe is denouncing himself, and in fact does so. Edgar Poe himself invented neither the prson northe acts of these strange novels; he dreamt them waking, and that is why he clothed them o wel withall te colours of a shocking reality.
Dr. Briere de Boismont in his remarkable work on "Hallucinations," tells the story of an Englishmtherwise quite sane, who thought that he had met a stranger and made his acquaintance, who took hmt unch at his tavern, and then having asked him to visit St. Paul's in his company, had tried tothowhi from the top of the tower which they had climbed together.<<WEH NOTE: Crowley elaborated sverl o thse anecdotes into his stories.>>
From that moment the Englishman was obsessed by this stranger, whom he alone could see, and whom lways met when he was alone, and had dined well.
Precipices attract; drunkenness calls to drunkenness; madness has invincible charms for madness. n a man {119} succumbs to sleep, he holds in horror everything which might wake him. It is the sm ih the hallucinated, with statical somnambulists, maniacs, epileptics, and all those who abando temeles to the delirium of a passion. They have heard the fatal music, they have entered into te dnceof eath; and they feel themselves dragged away into the whirl of vertigo. You speak to the, thy nomorehear you; you warn them, they no longer understand you, but your voice annoys them; tey ar aslep wit the sleep of death.
Death is a current which carries you away, a whirlpool which draws you down, but from the bottom hich the least movement may make you climb again. The force or repulsion being equal to that of trcion, at the very moment of expiring, one often attaches oneself again violent to life. Often ls, y he same law of equilibrium, one passes from sleep to death through complaisance for sleep.
A shallop sways upon the shores of the lake. The child enters the water, which, shining with a tand reflections, dances around him and calls him; the chain which retains the boat stretches and em o wish to break itself; then a marvellous bird shoots out from the bank, and skims, singing, uonth jyous waves; the child wishes to follow it, he puts his hand upon the chain, he detaches therin.
Antiquity divined the mystery of the attraction of death, and represented it in the fable of HylaWeary with a long voyage, Hylas has arrived in a flowered, enamelled isle; he approaches a fountant raw water; a gracious mirage smiles at him; he sees a nymph stretch out her arms to him, his on os nrve, and cannot draw back the heavy jar; the fresh fragrance of the spring put him to sleep th pefums {120} of the bank intoxicate him. There he is, bent over the water like a narcissus wose talkhas een broken by a child at play; the full jar falls to the bottom, and Hylas follows it he des, deamin that nymphs caress him, and no longer hears the voice of Hercules recalling him t the lbours f life Hercules, who runs wildly everywhere, crying, "Hylas! Hylas!"
Another fable, not less touching, which steps forth from the shadows of the Orphic initiation, ist of Eurydice recalled to life by the miracles of harmony and love, of Eurydice, that sensitive boe n the very day of her marriage, who takes refuge in the tomb, trembling with modesty. Soon sh har te lyre of Orpheus, and slowly climbs again towards the light; the terrible divinities of Erbusdar no bar her passage. She follows the poet, or rather the poetry which adores. ... But, wo to he lver f he changes the magnetic current and pursues in his turn, with a single look, her whm he houldonly ttract! The sacred love, the virginal love, the love which is stronger than the tmb, seks onl devoton, and flies in terror before the egoism of desire. Orpheus knows it; but, fo an insant, heforgetsit. Eurydice, in her white bridal dress, lies upon the marriage bed; he weas the vetments o Grand Herophant, he stands upright, his lyre in his hand, his head crowned with he sacredlaurel, hs eyes tuned towards the East, and he sings. He sings of the luminous arrows o love thattraverse te shadows f old Chaos, the waves of soft, clear light, flowing from the blackteats of th mother of he gods, frm which hang the two children, Eros and Anteros. He says the sog of Adonis eturning to ife in answe to the complaint of Venus, reviving like a flower under the hining dew ofher {121} teas; the song o Castor and Pollux, whom death could not divide, and who lve alternatelyin hell and upn earth. ... Ten he calls softly Eurydice, his dear Eurydice, his so uch loved Eurydce:
Ah! miseram Eurydicen anima fugiente vocabat,
Eurydicen! toto referebant flumine ripae.
While he sings, that pallid statue of the sculptor death takes on the colour of the first tint ofe, its white lips begin to redden like the dawn ... Orpheus sees her, he trembles, he stammers, tehm almost dies upon his lips, but she pales anew; then the Grand Hierophant tears from his lyre ubim hartrending songs, he looks no more save upon Heaven, he weeps, he prays, and Eurydice openshereye .. Unhappy one, do not look at her! sing! sing! do not scare away the butterfly of Psyche,whic is boutto alight on this flower! But the insensate man has seen the look of the woman whom e hasraise fromthe dead, the Grand Hierophant gives place to the lover, his lyre falls from his hnds, h looksupon Erydice, he darts towards her, .... he clasps her in his arms, he finds her frozn still her eys are cosed again, her lips are paler and colder than ever, the sensitive soul has rembled,the frai cord isbroken anew --- and for ever. ... Eurydice is dead, and the hymns of Orphus can nolonger reall her t life!
In our "Dogme et rituel de la haute magie," we had the temerity to say that the resurrection of tead is not an impossible phenomenon even on the physical plane; and in saying that, we have not dne r in any way contradicted the fatal law of death. A death which can discontinue is only lethagyan sumber; but it is by lethargy and slumber that {122} death always begins. The state of profundpeae wich succeeds the agitations of life carries away the relaxed and sleeping soul; one cannt mae itretun, and force it to plunge anew into life, except by exciting violently all its affectons ad allits dsires. When Jesus, the Saviour of the world, was upon earth, the earth was more bautifu and mre desrable than Heaven; and yet it was necessary for Jesus to cry aloud and apply a hock inorder t awakenJairus's daughter. It was by dint of shudderings and tears that he called bck his fiend Lazrus fromthe tomb, so difficult is it to interrupt a tired soul who is sleeping hi beauty-seep!
At the same time, the countenance of death has not the same serenity for every soul that contempl it. When one has missed the goal of life, when one carries away with one frenzied greeds or unasae hates, eternity appears to the ignorant or guilty soul with such a formidable proportion of srrws tat it sometimes tries to fling itself back into mortal life. How many souls, urged by the ighmar ofhell, have taken refuge in their frozen bodies, their bodies already covered with funerel mable! Menhave found skeletons turned over, convulsed, twisted, and they have said, "Here are mn whohave een bried alive." Often this was not the case. These may always be waifs of death, me raise from he tom, who, before they could abandon themselves altogether to the anguish of the theshold f eternty, wer obliged to make a second attempt.
A celebrated magnetist, Baron Dupotet, teaches in his secret book on "Magic" that one can kill byic as by electricity. There is nothing strange in this revelation for {123} anyone who is well aqaned with the analogies of Nature. It is certain that in diluting beyond measure, or in coagulain sddnly, the plastic medium of a subject, it is possible to loose the body from the soul. It i soeties ufficient to arouse a violent anger, or an overmastering fear in anyone, to kill him sudenly
The habitual use of magnetism usually puts the subject who abandons himself to it at the mercy of magnetizer. When communication is well-established, and the magnetizer can produce at will slume,isensibility, catalepsy, and so on, it will only require a little further effort to bring on deth
We have been told as an actual fact a story whose authenticity we will not altogether guarantee.
We are about to repeat it because it may be true.
Certain persons who doubted both religion and magnetism, of that incredulous class which is ready all superstitions and all fanaticisms, had persuaded a poor girl to submit to their experiments o ee. This girl was of an impressionable and nervous nature, fatigued moreover by the excesses f lfewhich had been more than irregular, while she was already disgusted with existence. They pt hr t slep; bade her see; she weeps and struggles. They speak to her of God; she trembles in evry lmb.
"No," said she, "no;" He frightens me; I will not look at Him."
"Look at Him, I wish it."
She opens her eyes, her pupils expand; she is terrifying.
"What do you see?"
"I should not know how to say it. ... Oh for pity's sake awaken me!" {124}
"No, look, and say what you see."
"I see a black night in which whirl sparks of every colour around two great ever-rolling eyes. Fthese eyes leap rays whose spiral whorls fill space. ... Ho, it hurts me! Wake me!"
"No, look."
"Where do you wish me to look now?"
"Look into Paradise."
"No, I cannot climb there; the great night pushes me back, I always fall back."
"Very well then, look into hell."
Here the sleep-waker became convulsively agitated.
"No, no!" she cried sobbing; "I will not! I shall be giddy; I should fall! Oh, hold me back! Hme back!"
"No, descend."
"Where do you want me to descend?"
"Into hell."
"But it is horrible! No! No! I will not go there!"
"Go there."
"Mercy!"
"Go there. It is my will."
The features of the sleep-waker become terrible to behold; her hair stands on end; her wide-openees show only the white; her breast heaves, and a sort of death-rattle escapes from her throat.
"Go there. It is my will," repeats the magnetizer.
"I am there!" says the unhappy girl between her teeth, falling back exhausted. Then she no longeswers; her head hangs heavy on her shoulder; her arms fall idly by her side. They approach her. Te ouch her. They try to {125} waken her, but it is too late; the crime was accomplished; the woanwa dad. It was to the public incredulity in the matter of magnetism that the authors of this scriegius xperiment owed their own immunity from prosecution. The authorities held an inquest, an deah wa attibuted to the rupture of an aneurism. The body, anyhow, bore no trace of violence; tey ha it bried,and there was an end of the matter.
Here is another anecdote which we heard from a travelling companion.
Two friends were staying in the same inn, and sharing the same room. One of them had a habit of tng in his sleep, and, at that time, would answer the questions which his comrade put to him. Onengt he suddenly uttered stifled cries; his companion woke up and asked him what was the matter.
"But, don't you see," said the sleeper, "don't you see that enormous stone ... it is becoming loorom the mountain ... it is falling on me, it is going to crush me."
"Oh, well, get out of its way!"
"Impossible! My feet are caught in brambles that cling ever closer. Ah! Help! Help! There is great stone coming right upon me!"
"Well, there it is!" said the other laughing, throwing the pillow at his head in order to wake hi A terrible cry, suddenly strangled in his throat, a convulsion, a sigh, then nothing more. The ptcal joker gets up, pulls his comrade's arm, calls him; in his turn, he becomes frightened, he cre ut people come with lights ... the unfortunate sleep-waker was dead. {126}
CHAPTER III
MYSTERIES OF HALLUCINATIONS AND OF THE EVOCATION OF SPIRITS
AN hallucination is an illusion produced by an irregular movement of the astral light.
It is, as we said previously, the admixture of the phenomena of sleep with those of waking.
Our plastic medium breathes in and out the astral light or vital soul of the earth, as our body bhes in and out the terrestrial atmosphere. Now, just as in certain places the air is impure and ntftfor breathing, in the same way, certain unusual circumstances may make the astral light unwholsoe,an not assimilable.
The air of some places may be too bracing for some people, and suit others perfectly; it is exacthe same with the magnetic light.
The plastic medium is like a metallic statue always in a state of fusion. If the mould is defect it becomes deformed; if the mould breaks, it runs out.
The mould of the plastic medium is balanced and polarized vital force. Our body, by means of the ous system, attracts and retains this fugitive form of light; but local fatigue, or partial over-xieent of the apparatus, may occasion fluidic deformities.
These deformities partially falsify the mirror of the imagination, and thus occasion habitual halnations to the static type of visionary.
The plastic medium, made in the image and likeness of our {127} body, of which it figures every o in light, has a sight, touch, hearing, smell and taste which are proper to itself; it may, when ti ver-excited, communicate them by vibrations to the nervous apparatus in such a manner that thehaluintion is complete. The imagination seems then to triumph over Nature itself, and produces tulystrngephenomena. The material body, deluged with fluid, seems to participate in the fluidic qalites, t esapes from the operation of the laws of gravity, becomes momentarily invulnerable, andeven nvisile, i a circle of persons suffering from collective hallucination. The convulsionariesof St.Medard as on knows, had their flesh torn off with red-hot pincers, had themselves felled lie oxen,and grond likecorn, and crucified, without suffering any pain; they were levitated, walkedabout hed downwads, and te bent pins and digested them.
We think we ought to recapitulate here the remarks which we published in the "Estafette" on the pgies produced by the American medium Home, and on several phenomena of the same kind.
We have never personally witnessed Mr. Home's miracles, but our information comes from the best ses; we gathered it in a house where the American medium had been received with kindness when he wsi isfortune, and with indulgence when he reached the point of thinking that his illness was a piceofgod luck; in the house of a lady born in Poland, but thrice French by the nobility of her heat, he ndecribable charm of her spirit, and the European celebrity of her name.
The publication of this information in the "Estafette" attracted to us at that time, without our icularly knowing {128} why, the insults of a Mr. de Pene, since then become known to fame throughhsufortunate duel. We thought at the time of La Fontaine's fable about the fool who threw stonesatth sge. Mr. de Pene spoke of us as an unfrocked priest, and a bad Catholic. We at least showe ousel a ood Christian in pitying and forgiving him, and as it is impossible to be an unfrocked piestwithut eer having been a priest, we let fall to the ground an insult which did not reach us.
SPOOKS IN PARIS.
Mr. Home, a week ago, was once more about to quit Paris, that Paris where even the angels and theons, if they appeared in any shape, would not pass very long for marvellous beings, and would fin ohng better to do than to return at top-speed to heaven or to hell, to escape the forgetfulness ndth nglect of human kind.
Mr. Home, his air sad and disillusioned, was then bidding farewell to a noble lady whose kindly wme had been one of the first happiness which he had tasted in France. Mme. de B... treated him vr idly that day, as always, and asked him to stay to dinner; the man of mystery was about to accet,whn,some one having just said that they were waiting for a qabalist, well known in the world ofocclt ciece by the publication of a book entitled "Dogme et rituel de la haute magie," Mr. Home sddeny chngedcountenance, and said, stammering, and with a visible embarrassment, that he could no reman, an thatthe approach of this Professor of Magic caused him an incomparable terror. Everyting on couldsay toreassure him proved useless. "I do not presume to judge the man," said he; "I o not {29} assrt thathe is good or evil, I know nothing about it; but his atmosphere hurts me; ner him I hould fel myself as it were, without force, even without life." After which explanation. Mr. Homehastened o salute nd withdraw.
This terror of miracle-mongers in the presence of the veritable initiates of science, is not a nect in the annals of occultism. You may read in Philostratus the history of the Lamia who tremble nharing the approach of Apollonius of Tyana. Our admirable story-teller Alexander Dumas dramatiedths agical anecdote in the magnificent epitome of all legends which forms the prologue to his geatepi noel, "The Wandering Jew."<<Some authorities attribute this novel to Eugene Sue. --- TRANS>> Te scne tkes place at Corinth; it is an old-time wedding with its beautiful children crowned wth flwers,bearig the nuptial torches, and singing gracious epithalamia flowered with voluptuous iages lke thepoems f Catullus. The bride is as beautiful in her chaste draperies as the ancient Plyhumni; she i amorou and deliciously provoking in her modesty, like a Venus of Correggio, or a Gace of Cnova. Te bridegoom is Clinias, a disciple of the famous Apollonius of Tyana. The masterhad promied to com to his dsciple's wedding, but he does not arrive, and the fair bride breathes asier, forshe fears pollonius. However, the day is not over. The hour has arrived when the newlymarried areto be conduted to the uptial couch. Meroe trembles, pales, looks obstinately towards he door, strtches out he hand with aarm and says in a strangled voice: "Here he is! It is he!" t was in factApollonius. ere is the maus; here is the master; the hour of enchantments has passe; jugglery fals before true 130} science. One seeks the lovely bride, the white Meroe, and one ses no more than n old woman, th sorceress Caniia, the devourer of little children. Clinias is disbused; he thankshis master, he i saved.
The vulgar are always deceived about magic, and confuse adepts with enchanters. True magic, thatto say, the traditional science of the magi, is the mortal enemy of enchantment; it prevents, or ae o cease, sham miracles, hostile to the light, that fascinate a small number of prejudiced or cedlos itnesses. The apparent disorder in the laws of Nature is a lie: it is not then a miracle. Thetru miacle, the true prodigy always flaming in the eyes of all, is the ever constant harmony o effct ad case; these are the splendours of eternal order!
We could not say whether Cagliostro would have performed miracles in the presence of Swedenborg; he would certainly have dreaded the presence of Paracelsus and of Henry Khunrath, if these great e a been his contemporaries.
Far be it from us, however, to denounce Mr. Home as a low-class sorcerer, that is to say, as a chtan. The celebrated American medium is sweet and natural as a child. He is a poor and over-senstv eing, without cunning and without defence; he is the plaything of a terrible force of whose naur h i ignorant, and the first of his dupes is certainly himself.
The study of the strange phenomena which are produced in the neighbourhood of this young man is oe greatest importance. One must seriously reconsider the too easy denials of the eighteenth centr,ad open out before {131} science and reason broader horizons than those of a bourgeois criticis, hih enies everything which it does not yet know how to explain to itself. Facts are inexorable an geuin good faith should never fear to examine them.
The explanation of these facts, which all traditions obstinately affirm, and which are reproducedore our eyes with tiresome publicity, this explanation, ancient as the facts themselves, rigorousa ahematics, but drawn for the first time from the shadows in which the hierophants of all ages hvehide it, would be a great scientific event if it could obtain sufficient light and publicity. hisevet w are perhaps about to prepare, for one would not permit us the audacious hope of accomplshin it. Hre, in the first place, are the facts, in all their singularity. We have verified them, and weve esablished them with a rigorous exactitude, abstaining in the first place from all explanationadall comentary.
Mr. Home is subject to trances which put him, according to his own account, in direct communicatiith the soul of his mother, and, through her, with the entire world of spirits. He describes, lietesleep-wakers of Cahagnet, persons whom he has never seen, and who are recognized by those who voe he; he will tell you even their names, and will reply, on their behalf, to questions which ca beundrstod only by the soul evoked and yourselves.
When he is in a room, inexplicable noises make themselves heard. Violent blows resound upon the iture, and in the walls; sometimes doors and windows open by themselves, as if they were blown opnb storm; one even hears the wind and the rain, though when one goes out of doors, the sky {132}iscludess, and one does not feel the lightest breath of wind.
The furniture is overturned and displace, without anybody touching it.
Pencils write of their own accord. Their writing is that of Mr. Home, and they make the same miss as he does.
Those present feel themselves touched and seized by invisible hands. These contacts, which seem tlect ladies, lack a serious side, and sometimes even propriety. We think that we shall be sufficetyunderstood.
Visible and tangible hands come out, or seem to come out, of tables; but in this case, the tablest be covered. The invisible agent needs certain apparatus, just as do the cleverest successors o oet Houdin.
These hands show themselves above all in darkness; they are warm and phosphorescent, or cold and k. They write stupidities, or touch the piano; and when they have touched the piano, it is necesayt send for the tuner, their contact being always fatal to the exactitude of the instrument.
One of the most considerable personages in England, Sir Bulwer Lytton, has seen and touched thoseds; we have read his written and signed attestation. He declares even that he has seized them, addan them towards himself with all his strength, in order to withdraw from their incognito the ar t wic they should naturally be attached. But the invisible object has proved stronger than the nglsh oveist, and the hands have escaped him.
A Russian nobleman who was the protector of Mr. Home, and whose character and good faith could nossibly be doubted, Count A. B------, has also seen and seized with {133} vigor the mysterious hans "hey are," says he, "perfect shapes of human hands, warm and living, only one feels no bones." Prssd y an unavoidable constraint, those hands did not struggle to escape, but grew smaller, and n sme ay elted, so that the Count ended by no longer holding anything.
Other persons who have seen them, and touched them, say that the fingers are puffed out and stiffd compare them to gloves of india-rubber, swollen with a warm and phosphorescent air. Sometimes,ised of hands, it is feet which produce themselves, but never naked. The spirit, which probably acs oowear, respects (at least in this particular) the delicacy of ladies, and never shows his fet bt udera drapery or a cloth.
The production of these feet very much tires and frightens Mr. Home. He then endeavours to approsome healthy person, and seizes him like a drowning man; the person so seized by the medium feelshmef, on a sudden, in a singular state of exhaustion and debility.
A Polish gentleman, who was present at one of the "seances" of Mr. Home, had placed on the groundween his feet a pencil on a paper, and had asked for a sign of the presence of the spirit. For sm ntants nothing stirred, but suddenly, the pencil was thrown to the other end of the room. The enleanstooped, took the paper, and saw there three qabalistic signs which nobody understood. Mr.Hom (aone appeared, on seeing them, to be very much upset, and even frightened; but he refused toexplin hmsel as to the nature and significance of these characters. The investigators accordingl keptthem,and tok them to that Professor of High {134} Magic whose approach had been so much dreaed by he medum. W have seen them, and here is a minute description of them.
They were traced forcibly, and the pencil had almost cut the paper.
They had been dashed on to the paper without order or alignment.
The first was the symbol which the Egyptian initiates usually placed in the hand of Typhon. A tath upright double lines opened in the form of a compass; an ankh (or crux ansata) having at the tpacrcular ring; below the ring, a double horizontal line; beneath the double horizontal line, twoobiqe ines, like a V upside down.
The second character represented a Grand Hierophant's cross, with the three hierarchical cross-ba This symbol, which dates from the remotest antiquity, is still the attribute of our sovereign potfs and forms the upper extremity of their pastoral staff. But the sign traced by the pencil hadths aricularity, that the upper branch, the head of the cross, was double, and formed again the trrile yphnian V, the sign of antagonism and separation, the symbol of hate and eternal combat.
The third character was that which Freemasons call the Philosophical Cross, a cross with four equrms, with a point in each of its angles. But, instead of four points, there were only two, place nte two right-hand corners, once more a sign of struggle, separation and denial.
The Professor, whom one will allow us to distinguish from the narrator, and to name in the third on in order not to weary our readers in having the air of speaking of {135} ourself --- the Profesr hen, Master Eliphas Levi, gave the persons assembled in Mme. de B------'s drawing-room the scintfi eplanation of the three signatures, and this is what he said:
"These three signs belong to the series of sacred and primitive hieroglyphs, known only to initiaof the first order. The first is the signature of Typhon. It expresses the blasphemy of the evi prt by establishing dualism in the creative principle. For the crux ansata of Osiris is a linga usie own, and represents the paternal and active force of God (the vertical line extending from he irce) ertilizing passive nature (the horizontal line). To double the vertical line is to affim tht naure as two fathers; it is to put adultery in the place of the divine motherhood, it is toaffir, insead o the principle of intelligence, blind fatality, which has for result the eternal cnflictof apparance in nothingness; it is, then, the most ancient, the most authentic, and the mos terribe of al the stgmata of hell. It signifies the "atheistic god"; it is the signature of Satn.
"This first signature is hieratical, and bears reference to the occult characters of the divine w.
"The second pertains to philosophical hieroglyphs, it represents the graduated extent of idea, ane progressive extension of form.
"It is a triple tau upside down; it is human thought affirming the absolute in the three worlds, that absolute ends here by a fork, that is to say, by the sign of doubt and antagonism. So that,i h first character means: 'There is no God,' the rigorous signification of this one is: 'Hierarcicl ruh does not exist.' {136}
"The third or philosophical cross has been in all initiations the symbol of Nature, and its four entary forms. The four points represent the four indicible an incommunicable letters of the occutttagram, that eternal formula of the Great Arcanum, G.'. A.'.
"The two points on the right represent force, as those on the left symbolize love, and the four lrs should be read from right to left, beginning by the right-hand upper corner, and going thence oteleft-hand lower corner, and so for the others, making the cross of St. Andrew.
"The suppression of the two left-hand points expresses the negation of the cross, the negation ofcy and of love.
"The affirmation of the absolute reign of force, and its eternal antagonism, from above to beneatnd from beneath to above.
"The glorification of tyranny and of revolt.
"The hieroglyphic sign of the unclean rite, with which, rightly or wrongly, the Templars were rephed; it is the sign of disorder and of eternal despair."
Such, then, are the first revelations of the hidden science of the magi with regard to these phena of supernatural manifestations. Now let it be permitted to us to compare with these strange sintrs other contemporary apparitions of phenomenal writings, for it is really a brief which scienc ogh t study before taking it to the tribunal of public opinion. One must then despise no researh, verookno clue.
In the neighbourhood of Caen, at Tilly-sur-Seulles, a series of inexplicable facts occurred some s ago, under the influence of a medium, or ecstatic, named Eugene Vintras. {137}
Certain ridiculous circumstances and a prosecution for swindling soon caused this thaumaturgist tll into oblivion, and even into contempt; he had, moreover, been attacked with violence in pamphlt hse authors had at one time been admirers of his doctrine, for the medium Vintras took it upon imel t dogmatize. One thing, however, is remarkable in the invectives of which he is the object:hisadvrsaies, though straining every effort in order to scourge him, recognize the truth of his mracls, ad cotent themselves with attributing them to the devil.
What, then, are these so authentic miracles of Vintras? On this subject we are better informed tanybody, as will soon appear. Affidavits signed by honourable witnesses, persons who are artists otrs, priests, all men above reproach, have been communicated to us; we have questioned eye-witnsss,an, better than that, we have seen with our own eyes. The facts deserve to be described in dtai.
There is in Paris a writer named Mr. Madrolle, who is, to say the least of it, a bit eccentric. s an old man of good family. He wrote at first on behalf of Catholicism in the most exalted way,rcied most flattering encouragements from ecclesiastical authority, and even letters from the Hol Se. Ten he saw Vintras; and, led away by the prestige of his miracles, became a determined sectaian an anirreconcilable enemy of the hierarchy and of the clergy.
At the period when Eliphas Levi was publishing his "Dogme et rituel de la haute magie," he receiv pamphlet from Mr. Madrolle which astonished him. In it, the author vigorously sustained the mostuhad of paradoxes in the disordered style of the ecstatics. For him, life sufficed for {138} theexiaio of the greatest crimes, since it was the consequence of a sentence of death. The most wiced en,beig the most unhappy of all, seemed to him to offer the sublimest of expiations to God. H broe al bouds in his attack on all repression and all damnation. "A religion which damns," he cied, is a amnedreligion!" He further preached the most absolute licence under the pretext of chaity, ad so fr forgt himself as to say, that "the most imperfect and the most apparently reprehensble actof lovewas worh more than the best of prayers."<<Quoted with approval in solution of the Frst Probem, IX, . 52. -- O. M. It is difficult to determine whether the words 'act of love' shoud be intepreted intheir gros, or in their mystical, sense. Perhaps Madrolle was himself intentioally ambigous. --- TANS.>> Itwas the Marquis de Sade turned preacher!<<But the Marquis de Sade ws, above al, a preache. Three-forths of "Justine" are verbose arguments in favour of so-called vce. Again Lvi trips in eferring to n author whom he has not read. --- TRANS.>> Further, he dened the existece of the devl with an entusiasm often full of eloquence.
"Can you conceive," said he, "a devil tolerated and authorized by God? Can you conceive, further,od who made the devil, and who allowed him to ravage creatures already so weak, and so prompt to eev themselves! A god of the devil, in short, abetted, protected, and scarcely surpassed in his evngs,by a devil of a god!" The rest of the pamphlet was of the same vigour. The Professor of Mgicwasalmst frightened, and inquired the address of Mr. Madrolle. It was not without some troubl tha he btaied an interview with this singular pamphleteer, and here is, more or less, their convrsatin:
ELIPHAS LEVI. "Sir, I have received a pamphlet from you. {139} I am come to thank you for your , and, at the same time, to testify to my astonishment and disappointment."
MR. MADROLLE. "Your disappointment, sir! Pray explain yourself, I do not understand you."
"It is a lively regret to me, sir, to see you make mistakes which I have myself at one time made.t I had then, at least, the excuse of inexperience and youth. Your pamphlet lacks conviction, beas t lacks discrimination. Your intention was doubtless to protest against errors in belief, andabse i morality: and behold, it is the belief and the morality themselves that you attack! The ealttio whch overflows in your pamphlet may indeed do you the greatest harm, and some of your bestfrieds mst hve experienced anxiety with regard to the state of your health. ..."
"Oh, no doubt; they have said, and say still, that I am mad. But it is nothing new that believerst undergo the folly of the cross. I am exalted, sir, because you yourself would be so in my plae eause it is impossible to remain calm in the presence of prodigies. ..."
"Oh, oh, you speak of prodigies, that interests me. Come, between ourselves, and in all good faiof what prodigies are you speaking?"
"Eh, what prodigies should they be but those of the great prophet Elias, returned to earth under name of Pierre Michel?"
"I understand; you mean Eugene Vintras. I have heard his prophecies spoken of. But does he realerform miracles?"
["Here Mr. Madrolle jumps in his chair, raises his eyes and his hands to heaven, and finally smilith a condescension which seems to sound the depths of pity."] {140}
"Does he do miracles, sir?
"But the greatest!
"The most astonishing!
"The most incontestable!
"The truest miracles that have ever been done on earth since the time of Jesus Christ! ... What! usands of hosts appear on altars where there were none; wine appears in empty chalices, and it isnta illusion, it is wine, a delicious wine ....celestial music is heard, perfumes of the world beon fllthe room, and then blood .... real human blood (doctors have examined it!), real blood, I tll ou,swets and sometimes flows from the hosts, imprinting mysterious characters on the altars! am alkig toyou of what I have seen, of what I have heard, of what I have touched, of what I havetaste! An you ant me to remain cold at the bidding of an ecclesiastical authority which finds itmore cnveniet to dny everything than to examine the least thing!..."
"By permission, sir; it is in religious matters, above all, that authority can never by wrong. ..n religion, good is hierarchy, and evil is anarchy; to what would the influence of the priesthoodb euced, in effect, if you set up the principle that one must rather believe the testimony of ones enesthan the decision of the Church? Is not the Church more visible than all your miracles? Tosewhoseemiracles and who do not see the Church are much more to be pitied than the blind, for thre rmain to hem not even the resource of allowing themselves to be led. ..."
"Sir, I know all that as well as you do. But God cannot be divided against Himself. He cannot a good faith to be deceived, and the Church itself could hardly decide that {141} I am blind when aeeyes. ... Here, see what John Huss says in his letter, the forty-third letter, towards the end
"'A doctor of theology said to me: "In everything I should submit myself to the Council; everythiould then be good and lawful for me." He added: "If the Council said that you had only one eye, lhuh you have two, it would be still necessary to admit that the Council was not wrong." "Were th wol wrld," I replied, "to affirm such a thing, so long as I had the use of my reason, I should nt b abe t agree without wounding my conscience."' I will say to you, like John Huss, 'Before thee wee a hurc and its councils there were truth and reason.'"
"Pardon me if I interrupt, my dear sir; you were a Catholic at one time, you are no longer so; coences are free. I shall merely submit to you that the institution of the hierarchical infallibilt nmatters of dogma is reasonable in quite another sense, and far more incontestably true than al te ircles of the world. Besides, what sacrifices ought one not to make in order to preserve peae! Beleveme, John Huss would have been a greater man if he had sacrificed one of his eyes to univrsalconcrd, ather than deluge Europe with blood! O sir! let the Church decide when she will thatI hav but ne ey; I only ask her one favour, it is to tell me in which eye I am blind, in order tht I ma closeit andlook with the other with an irreproachable orthodoxy!"
"I admit that I am not orthodox in your fashion."
"I perceive that clearly. But let us come to the miracles! You have then seen, touched, felt, td them; but, come, putting exaltation on one side, please give me a thoroughly detailed and circusatal account of the affair, and, above {142} all, evident proof of miracle. Am I indiscreet in skngyo that?"
"Not the least in the world; but which shall I choose? There are so many!"
"Let me think," added Mr. Madrolle, after a moment's reflection and with a slight trembling in thice, "the prophet is in London, and we are here. Eh! well, if you only make a mental request to h rphet to send you immediately the communion, and if in a place designated by you, in your own hus, n cloth, or in a book, you found a host on your return, what would you say?"
"I should declare the fact inexplicable by ordinary critical rules."
"Oh, well, sir," cried Mr. Madrolle, triumphantly, "there is a thing that often happens to me; wher I wish, that is to say, whenever I am prepared and hope humbly to be worthy of it! Yes, sir, idthe host when I ask for it; I find it real and palpable, but often ornamented with little hears,litl miraculous hearts, which one might think had been painted by Raphael."
Eliphas Levi, who felt ill at ease in discussing facts with which there was mingled a sort of protion of the most holy things, then took his leave of the one-time Catholic writer, and went out mdttng on the strange influence of this Vintras, who had so overthrown that old belief, and turnedth od avant's head.
Some days afterwards, the qabalist Eliphas was awakened very early in the morning by an unknown vor. It was a man with white hair, entirely clothed in black; his physiognomy {143} that of an exrml devout priest; his whole air, in short, was entirely worthy of respect.
This ecclesiastic was furnished with a letter of recommendation conceived in these terms:
"DEAR MASTER,
"This is to introduce to you an old savant, who wants to gabble Hebrew sorcery with you. Rec him like myself --- I mean as I myself received him --- by getting rid of him in the best way yo a. "Entirely yours, in the sacrosanct Qabalah,
"AD. DESBARROLLES."
"Reverend sir," said Eliphas, smiling, after having read the letter. "I am entirely at your serv and can refuse nothing to the friend who writes to me. You have then seen my excellent discipleDsarolles?"
"Yes, sir, and I have found in him a very amiable and very learned man. I think both you and him hy of the truth which has been lately revealed by astonishing miracles, and the positive revelatin fthe Archangel St. Michael."
"Sir, you do us honour. Has then the good Desbarrolles astonished you by his science?"
"Oh, certainly he possesses in a very remarkable degree the secrets of cheiromancy; by merely insing my hand, he told me nearly the whole history of my life."
"He is quite capable of that. But did he enter into the smallest details?"
"Sufficiently, sir, to convince me of his extraordinary power."
"Did he tell you that you were once the vicar of {144} Mont-Louis, in the diocese of Tours? That are the most zealous disciple of the ecstatic Eugene Vintras? And that your name is Charvoz?"
It was a veritable thunderbolt; at each of these three phrases the old priest jumped in his chairhen he heard his name, he turned pale, and rose as if a spring had been released.
"You are then really a magician?" he cried; "Charvoz is certainly my name, but it is not that whi bear; I call myself La Paraz."
"I know it; La Paraz is the name of your mother. You have left a sufficiently enviable position,t of a country vicar, and your charming vicarage, in order to share the troubled existence of a scay"
"Say of a great prophet!"
"Sir, I believe perfectly in your good faith. But you will permit me to examine a little the mis and the character of your prophet."
"Yes, sir; examination, full light, the microscope of science, that is all we ask. Come to Londoir, and you will see! The miracles are permanently established there."
"Would you be so kind, sir, as to give me, first of all, some exact and conscientious details witgard to the miracles?"
"Oh, as many as you like!"
And immediately the old priest began to recount things which the whole world would have found impble, but which did not even turn a eye-lash of the Professor of Transcendental Magic. {145}
Here is one of his stories:
One day Vintras, in an access of enthusiasm, was preaching before his heterodox altar; twenty-fivrsons were present. An empty chalice was upon the altar, a chalice well known to the Abbe Charvo;h rought it himself from his church of Mont-Louis, and he was perfectly certain that the sacred as hd either secret ducts nor double bottom.
"'In order to prove to you,' said Vintras, 'that it is God Himself who inspires me, He acquaints hat this chalice will fill itself with drops of His blood, under the appearance of wine, and you ilal be able to taste the fruit of the vines of the future, the wine which we shall drink with th Sviurin the Kingdom of His Father...'
"Overcome with astonishment and fear," continued the Abbe Charvoz, "I go up to the altar, I take chalice, I look at the bottom of it: it was entirely empty. I overturned it in the sight of everoe hen I returned to kneel at the foot of the altar, holding the chalice between my two hands... Sudelythere was a slight noise; the noise of a drop of water, falling into the chalice from the cilig, as istinctly heard, and a drop of wine appeared at the bottom of the vase.
"Every eye was fixed on me. Then they looked at the ceiling, for our simple chapel was held in ar room; in the ceiling was neither hole nor fissure; nothing was seen to fall, and yet the noise ftefall of the drops multiplied, it became more rapid, and more frequent, .. and the wine climbedfrm hebottom of the chalice towards the brim.
"When the chalice was full, I bore it slowly around so that all might see it; then the prophet di his lips into it, and all, one after the other, tasted the miraculous wine. It is in {146} vaint erch memory for any delicious taste which would gave an idea of it... And what shall I tell yo,"adedthe Abbe Charvoz, "of those miracles of blood which astonish us every day? Thousands of wonde an bleding hosts are found upon our altars. The sacred stigmata appear to all who wish to se the. Te hots, at first white, slowly become marked with characters and hearts in blood. ... Mut onebeliee tha God abandons the holiest objects to the false miracles of the devil? Should not ne rater adoe, andbelieve that the hour of the supreme and final revelation has arrived?"
Abbe Charvoz, as he thus spoke, had in his voice that sort of nervous trembling that Eliphas Levi already noticed in the case of Mr. Madrolle. The magician shook his head pensively; then, suddel: "Sir," said he to the Abbe; "you have upon you one or two of these miraculous hosts. Be good eno t show them to me."
"Sir------"
"You have some, I know it; why should you deny it?"
"I do not deny it," said Abbe Charvoz; "but you will permit me not to expose to the investigation incredulity objects of the most sincere and devout belief."
"Reverend sir," said Eliphas gravely; "incredulity is the mistrust of an ignorance almost sure toeive itself. Science is not incredulous. I believe, to begin with, in you own conviction, sinceyuhve accepted a life of privation and even of reproach, in order to stick to this unhappy belief ho m then your miraculous hosts, and believe entirely in my respect for the objects of a sincer woshi." 147}
"Oh, well!" said the Abbe Charvoz, after another slight hesitation; "I will show them to you."
Then he unbuttoned the top of his black waistcoat and drew forth a little reliquary of silver, be which he fell on his knees, with tears in his eyes, and prayers on his lips; Eliphas fell on hiskesbeside him, and the Abbe opened the reliquary.
There were in the reliquary three hosts, one whole, the two others almost like paste, and as it wkneaded with blood.
The whole host bore in its centre a heart in relief on both sides; a clot of blood moulded in them of a heart, which seemed to have been formed in the host itself in an inexplicable manner. Thebodcould not have been applied from without, for the imbibed colouring matter had left the particesaderng to the exterior surface quite white. The appearance of the phenomenon was the same on bth ide. he Master of Magic was seized with an involuntary trembling.
This emotion did not escape the old vicar, who having once again done adoration and closed his reary, drew from his pocket an album, and gave it without a word to Eliphas. ... There were copie fal the bleeding characters which had been observed upon hosts since the beginning of the ecstasesan mracles of Vintras.
There were hearts of every kind, and many different sorts of emblems. But three especially excitee curiosity of Eliphas to the highest point.
"Reverend sir," said he to Charvoz, "do you know these three signs?"
"No," replied the Abbe ingenuously; "but the prophet assures us that they are of the highest impoce, and that {148} their hidden signification shall soon be made known, that is to say, at the en fte Age."
"Oh, well, sir," solemnly replied the Professor of Magic; "even before the end of the Age, I willlain them to you; these three qabalistic signs are the signature of the devil!"
"It is impossible!" cried the old priest.
"It is the case," replied Eliphas, with determination.
Now, the signs were these:
1 Degree. --- The star of the micrososm, or the magic pentagram. It is the five-pointed star of lt masonry, the star with which Agrippa drew the human figure, the head in the upper point, the fu ibs in the four others. The flaming star, which, when turned upside down, is the hierolgyphic ig o te goat of Black Magic, whose head may then be drawn in the star, the two horns at the top, he arsto he right and left, the beard at the bottom. It is the sign of antagonism and fatality. It i thegoatof lust attacking the heavens with its horns. It is a sign execrated by initiates ofa suprior ank, ven at the Sabbath.<<But if this were on a circular host, how could it be upside dwn? -- O. M.>
2 Degree. --- The two hermetic serpents. But the heads and tails, instead of coming together in similar semicircles, were turned outwards, and there was no intermediate line representing the caues Above the head of the serpents, one saw the fatal V, the Typhonian fork, the character of hel.Toth right and left, the sacred numbers III and VII were relegated to the horizontal line whichrepesets assive and secondary things. The meaning of the character was then this:
Antagonism is eternal. {149}
God is the strife of fatal forces, which always create through destruction.
The things of religion are passive and transitory.
Boldness makes use of them, war profits by them, and it is by them that discord is perpetuated.
3 Degree. --- Finally, the qabalistic monogram of Jehovah, the JOD and the HE, but upside down. is, according to the doctors of occult science, the most frightful of all blasphemies, and signiis owever one may read it, "Fatality alone exists: God and the Spirit are not. Matter is all, an sirt s only a fiction of this matter demented. Form is more than idea, woman more than man, plesur moe tan thought, vice more than virtue, the mob more than its chiefs, the children more than heirfathrs, olly more than reason!"
There is what was written in characters of blood upon the pretended miraculous hosts of Vintras!
We affirm upon our honour that the facts cited above are such as we have stated, and that we ourss saw and explained the characters according to magical science and the true keys of the Qabalah. h disciple of Vintras also communicated to us the description and design of the pontifical vestens ivn, said he, by Jesus Christ Himself to the pretended prophet, during one of his ecstatic trnce. intas had these vestments made, and clothes himself with them in order to perform his miraces. Theyare ed in colour. He wears upon his forehead a cross in the form of a lingam; and his pstora staf is srmounted by a hand, all of whose fingers are closed, except the thumb and the litte fingr.
Now, all that is diabolical in the highest degree. And is {150} it not a really wonderful thing,s intuition of the signs of a lost science? For it is transcendental magic which, basing the univreuon the two columns of Hermes and of Solomon, has divided the metaphysical world into two intelecua znes, one white and luminous, enclosing positive ideas, the other black and obscure, containng egaiveideas, and which has given to the synthesis of the first, the name of God, and to that o theothe, th name of the devil or of Satan.
The sign of the lingam borne upon the forehead is in India the distinguishing mark of the worship of Shiva the destroyer; for that sign being that of the great magical arcanum, which refers to temsery of universal generation, to bear it on the forehead is to make profession of dogmatic shamlesnss "Now," say the Orientals, "the day when there is no longer modesty in the world, the worl, gvenove to debauch which is sterile, will end at once for lack of mothers. Modesty is the accetanc of aterity."
The hand with the three large fingers closed expresses the negation of the ternary, and the affiron of the natural forces alone.
The ancient hierophants, as our learned and witty friend Desbarolles is about to explain in an adble book which is at present in the press, had given a complete "resume" of magical science in th ua hand. The forefinger, for them, represented Jupiter; the middle finger, Saturn; the ring-finer Aolo or the Sun. Among the Egyptians, the middle finger was Ops, the forefinger Osiris, and te lttl figer Horus; the thumb represented the generative force,and the little finger, cunning. Ahand shoing nly the thumb and {151} the little finger, is equivalent, in the sacred hieroglyphic anguae, tothe eclusive affirmation of passion and diplomacy. It is the perverted and material trnslatin of tat gret word of St. Augustine: "Love, and do what you will!" Compare now this sign wth the octrineof Mr. adrolle: "The most imperfect and the most apparently guilty act of love is wrth morethan thebest of rayers." And you will ask yourself what is that force which, independenty of the ill, and f the greter or less knowledge of man (for Vintras is a man of no education), frmulates is dogmas wth signs bried in the rubbish of the ancient world, re-discovers the mysterie of Thebes nd of Eleuss, and writs for us the most learned reveries of India with the occult alphbets of Herms?
What is that force? I will tell you. But I have still plenty of other miracles to tell; and thiticle is like a judicial investigation. We must, before anything else, complete it.
However, we may be permitted, before proceeding to other accounts to transcribe here a page from rman "illumine," of the work of Ludwig Tieck:
"If, for example, as an ancient tradition informs us, some of the angels whom God had created fell too soon, and if these, as they also say, were precisely the most brilliant of the angels, one a ey well understand by this 'fall' that they sought a new road, a new form of activity, other ocuptins and another life than those orthodox or more passive spirits who remained in the realm assgne tothe, and made no use of liberty, the appanage of all of them. Their 'fall' was that weightof frm wich e now-a-days call reality, and which is a protest on the part of individual existenceagaint {15} itsreabsorption into the abysses of universal spirit. It is thus that death preserve and rproducs life it is thus that life is betrothed to death. ... Do you understand now what Luifer is "Is i not th very genius of ancient Prometheus," that force which sets in motion the word, life,even movment, an which regulates the course of successive forms? This force, by its resitance, eqilibratedthe creatve principle. It is thus that the Elohim gave birth to the earth. Whn, subsequntly, men ere placedupon the earth by the Lord, as intermediate spirits, in their enthuiasm, whichled them tosearch Natue in its depths, they gave themselves over to the influence of tat proud andpowerful genus, and whenthey were softly ravished away over the precipice of death tofind life, thre it was tha they began t exist in a real and natural manner, as is fit for all cretures."
This page needs no commentary, and explains sufficiently the tendencies of what one calls spiritum, or "spiritism."
It is already a long time since this doctrine, or, rather, this antidoctrine, began to work upon world, to plunge it into universal anarchy. But the law of equilibrium will save us, and alreadytegeat movement of reaction has begun.
We continue the recital of the phenomena.
One day a workman paid a visit to Eliphas Levi. He was a tall man of some fifty years old, of frappearance, and speaking in a very reasonable manner. Questioned as to the motive of his visit, erpied: "You ought to know it well enough; I am come to beg and pray you to return to me what I hvelot.
We must say, to be frank, that Eliphas knew nothing of {153} this visitor, nor of what he might hlost. He accordingly replied: "You think me much more of a sorcerer than I am; I do not know whoyuae, nor what you seek; consequently, if you think that I can be useful to you in any way, you mstexlan yourself and make your request more precise."
"Oh, well, since you are determined not to understand me, you will at least recognize this," said stranger, taking from his pocket a little, much-used black book.
It was the "grimoire" of Pope Honorius.
One word upon this little book so much decried.
The "grimoire" of Honorius is composed of an apocryphal constitution of Honorius II, for the evocn and control of spirits; then of some superstitious receipts ... it was the manual of the bad pret ho practised Black Magic during the darkest periods of the middle ages. You will find there booy its, mingled with profanations of the Mass and of the consecrated elements, formulae of bewithmet ad mlevolent spells, and practices which stupidity alone could credit or knavery counsel. I fac, itis abook complete of its kind; it is consequently become very rare, and the bibliophile pshes t to ery hgh prices in the public sales.
"My dear sir," said the workman, sighing, "since I was ten years old, I have not missed once perfng the orison. This book never leaves me, and I comply rigorously with all the prescribed ceremois Why, then, have those who used to visit me abandoned me? Eli, Eli, lama ------"
"Stop," said Eliphas, "do not parody the most formidable words that agony ever uttered in this wo Who are the beings who visited you by virtue of this horrible book? Do {154} you know them? Hv o promised them anything? Have you signed a pact?"
"No," interrupted the owner of the "grimoire;" "I do not know them, and I have entered into no agent with them. I only know that among them the chiefs are good, the intermediate rank partly goo n artly evil; the inferiors bad, but blindly, and without its being possible for them to do bettr. H wom I evoked, and who has often appeared to me, belongs to the most elevated hierarchy; for e ws god-ooking, well dressed, and always gave me favourable answers. But I have lost a page of y "gimoie," he first, the most important, that which bore the autograph of the spirit; and, sincethen,he nolonge appears when I call him.
"I am a lost man. I am naked as Job, I have no longer either force or courage. O Master, I conjyou, you who need only say one word, make one sign, and the spirits will obey, take pity upon me,adrstore to me what I have lost!"
"Give me your grimoire!" said Eliphas. "What name used you to give to the spirit who appeared to "
"I called him Adonai."
"And in what language was his signature?"
"I do not know, but I suppose it was in Hebrew."
"There," said the Professor of Transcendental Magic, after having traced two words in the Hebrew uage in the beginning and at the end of the book. "Here are two words which the spirits of darkns il never counterfeit. Go in peace, sleep well, and no longer evoke spirits."
The workman withdrew.
A week later, he returned to seek the Man of Science. {155}
"You have restored to me hope and life," said he; "my strength is partially returned, I am able wthe signatures that you gave me to relieve sufferers, and cast out devils, but "him," I cannot se i gain, and, until I have seen him, I shall be sad to the day of my death. Formerly, he was alwysner e, he sometimes touched me, and he used to wake me up in the night to tell me all that I nededto now Master, I beg of you, let me see him again!"
"See whom?"
"Adonai,"
"Do you know who Adonai is?"
"No, but I want to see him again."
"Adonai is invisible."
"I have seen him."
"He has no form."
"I have touched him."
"He is infinite."
"He is very nearly of my own height."
"The prophets say of him that the hem of his vestment, from the East to the West, sweeps the star the morning."
"He had a very clean surcoat, and very white linen."
"The Holy Scripture says that one cannot see him and live."
"He had a kind and jovial face."
"But how did you proceed in order to obtain these apparitions?"
"Why, I did everything that it tells you to do in the "grimoire." "
"What! Even the bloody sacrifice?"
"Doubtless." {156}
"Unhappy man! But who, then, was the victim?"
At this question, the workman had a slight trembling; he paled, and his glance became troubled.
"Master, you know better than I what it is," said he humbly in a low voice. "Oh, it cost me a grdeal to do it; above all, the first time, with a single blow of the magic knife to cut the throato ht innocent creature! One night I had just accomplished the funereal rites, I was seated in th crce n the interior threshold of my door, and the victim had just been consumed in a great fire f aderandcypress wood. ... All of a sudden, quite close to me .... I dreamt or rather I felt itpass... head in my ear a heartrending wail ... one would have said that it wept; and since that oment I thnk tht I am hearing it always."
Eliphas had risen; he looked fixedly upon his interlocutor. Had he before him a dangerous madmanpable of renewing the atrocities of the seigneur of Retz? And yet the face of the man was gentleadhnest. No, it was not possible.
"But then this victim. .. tell me clearly what it was. You suppose that I know already. Perhapso know, but I have reasons for wishing you to tell me."
"It was, according to the magic ritual, a young goat of a year old, virgin, and without defect."
"A real young he-goat?"
"Doubtless. Understand that it was neither a child's toy, nor a stuffed animal."
Eliphas breathed again.
"Good," thought he; "this man is not a sorcerer worthy of the stake. He does not know that the anable authors {157} of the "grimoire," when they spoke of the 'virgin he-goat,' meant a little chl.
"Well," said he to his consultant; "give me some details about your visions. What you tell me insts me in the highest degree."
The sorcerer --- for one must call him so --- the sorcerer then told him of a series of strange f, of which two families had been witness, and these facts were precisely identical with the phenoeao Mr.Home: hands coming out of walls, movements of furniture, phosphorescent apparitions. One dy,th rsh apprentice-magician had dared to call up Astaroth, and had seen the apparition of a gigaticmonterhaving the body of a hog, and the head borrowed from the skeleton of a colossal ox. Buthe tld al tht with an accent of truth, a certainty of having seen, which excluded every kind of dubt a to te goo faith and the entire conviction of the narrator. Eliphas, who is an epicure in mgic, ws delihted wth this find. In the nineteenth century, a real sorcerer of the middle ages, aremarkaly innoent andconvinced sorcerer, a sorcerer who had seen Satan under the name of Adonai, atan dresed likea respecable citizen, and Astaroth in his true diabolical form! What a supreme fnd for a useum! Wat a treaure for an archaeologist!
"My friend," said he to his new disciple, "I am going to help you to find what you say you have l Take my book, observe the prescriptions of the ritual, and come again to see me in a week."
A week later he returned, but this time the workman declared that he had invented a life-saving mne of the greatest importance for the navy. The machine is perfectly {158} put together; it only ak ne thing --- it will not work: there is a hidden defect in the machinery. What was that defec? Th eil spirit alone could tell him. It is then absolutely necessary to evoke him! ...
"Take care you do not!" said Eliphas. "You had much better say for nine days this qabalistic evoon." He gave him a leaf covered with manuscript. "Begin this evening, and return to-morrow to tl ewhat you have seen, for to night you will have a manifestation."
The next day, our good man did not miss the appointment.
"I woke up suddenly," said he, "upon one o'clock in the morning. In front of my bed I saw a brigight, and in this light a "shadowy arm" which passed and repassed before me, as if to magnetize m. hn I went to sleep again, and some instants afterwards, waking anew, I saw again the same light bt t ad changed its place. It had passed from left to right, and upon a luminous background I dstiguihedthe silhouette of a man who was looking at me with arms crossed."
"What was this man like?"
"Just about your height and breadth."
"It is well. Go, and continue to do what I told you."
The nine days rolled by; at the end of that time, a new visit; but this time he was absolutely rat and excited. As soon as he caught sight of Eliphas:
"Thanks, Master!" he cried. "The machine works! People whom I did not know have come to place a disposal the funds which were necessary to carry out my enterprise; I have found again peace in le;and all that thanks to your power!" {159}
"Say, rather, thanks to your faith and your docility. And now, farewell: I must work. .. Well, do you assume this suppliant air, and what more do you want of me?"
"Oh, if you only would ------"
"Well, what now? Have you not obtained all that you asked for, and even more than you asked for, you did not mention money to me?"
"Yes, doubtless," said the other sighing; "but I do want to see him again!"
"Incorrigible!" said Eliphas.
Some days afterwards, the Professor of Transcendental Magic was awakened, about two o'clock in thrning, by an acute pain in the head. For some moments he feared a cerebral congestion. He therefr oe, relit his lamp, opened his window, walked to and fro in his study, and then, calmed by the reh irof the morning, he lay down again, and slept deeply. He had a nightmare: he saw, terribly eal th gint with the fleshless ox's head of which the workman had spoken to him. The monster purued im, nd sruggled with him. When he woke up, it was already day, and somebody was knocking at is dor. Eiphasrose, threw on a dressing- gown, and opened; it was the workman.
"Master," said he, entering hastily, and with an alarmed air; "how are you?"
"Very well," replied Eliphas.
"But last night, at two o'clock in the morning, did you not run a great danger?"
Eliphas did not grasp the allusion; he already no longer remembered the indisposition of the nigh160}
"A danger?" said he. "No; none that I know of."
"Have you not been assaulted by a monster phantom, who sought to strangle you? Did it not hurt y
Eliphas remembered.
"Yes," said he, "certainly, I had the beginning of a sort of apoplectic attack, and a horrible dr But how do you know that?"
"At the same time, an invisible hand struck me roughly on the shoulder, and awoke me suddenly. Iamt then that I saw you fighting with Astaroth. I jumped up, and a voice said in my ear: 'Arise n oto the help of thy Master; he is in danger.' I got up in a great hurry. But where must I run ha dnger threatened you? Was it at your own house, or elsewhere? The voice said nothing abouttha. deided to wait for sunrise; and immediately day dawned, I ran, and here I am."
"Thanks, friend," said the magus, holding out his hand; "Astaroth is a stupid joker; all that hapd last night was a little blood to the head. Now, I am perfectly well. Be assured, then, and retr oyour work."
Strange as may be the facts which we have just related, there remains for us to unveil a tragic d much more extraordinary still.
It refers to the deed of blood which at the beginning of this year plunged Paris and all Christeninto mourning and stupefaction; a deed in which no one suspected that Black Magic had any part.
Here is what happened:
During the winter, at the beginning of last year, a bookseller informed the author of the "Dogme ituel de la" {161} "haute magie" that an ecclesiastic was looking for his address, testifying thegetst desire to see him. Eliphas Levi did not feel himself immediately prepossessed with confidecetoars the stranger, to the point of exposing himself without precaution to his visits; he indictedthehoue of a friend, where he was to be in the company of his faithful disciple, Desbarrolles. At he hur ad date appointed they went, in fact, to the house of Mme. A------, and found that theeccleiasti had een waiting for them for some moments.
He was a young and slim man; he had an arched and pointed nose, with dull blue eyes. His bony anojecting forehead was rather broad than high, his head was dolichocephalic, his hair flat and shot ated on one side, of a greyish blond with just a tinge of chestnut of a rather curious and disareabe hade. His mouth was sensual and quarrelsome; his manners were affable, his voice soft, andhisspech ometimes a little embarrassed. Questioned by Eliphas Levi concerning the object of his isit he eplid that he was on the look-out for the "grimoire" of Honorius, and that he had come tolearnfrom he Prfessor of Occult Science how to obtain that little black book, now-a-days almost ipossibe to fnd.
"I would gladly give a hundred francs for a copy of that grimoire," said he.
"The work in itself is valueless," said Eliphas. "It is a pretended constitution of Honorius II,ch you will find perhaps quoted by some erudite collector of apocryphal constitutions; you can fidi n the library."
"I will do so, for I pass almost all my time in Paris in the public libraries." {162}
"You are not occupied in the ministry in Paris?"
"No, not now; I was for some little while employed in the parish of St. Germain-Auxerrois."
"And you now spend your time, I understand, in curious researches in occult science."
"Not precisely, but I am seeking the realization of a thought. ... I have something to do."
"I do not suppose that this something can be an operation of Black Magic. You know as well as I reverend sir, that the Church has always condemned, and still condemns, severely, everything whic eaes to these forbidden practices."
A pale smile, imprinted with a sort of sarcastic irony, was all the answer that the Abbe gave, ane conversation fell to the ground.
However, the cheiromancer Desbarrolles was attentively looking at the hand of the priest; he percd it, a quite natural explanation followed, the Abbe offered graciously and of his own accord hishn o the experimenter. Desbarrolles knit his brows, and appeared embarrassed. The hand was dampan cld the fingers smooth and spatulated; the mount of Venus, or the part of the palm of the handwhih crreponds to the thumb, was of a noteworthy development, the line of life was short and brokn, tere ere rosses in the centre of the hand, and stars upon the mount of the moon.
"Reverend sir," said Desbarrolles, "if you had not a very solid religious education you would easbecome a dangerous sectary, for you are led on the one hand toward the most exalted mysticism, an nte other to the most concentrated obstinacy combined with the greatest secretiveness that can {63 pssbly be. You want much, but you imagine more, and as you confide your imaginations to nobod, tey igh attain proportions which would make them veritable enemies for yourself. Your habits ae cotempativ an rather easygoing, but it is a somnolence whose awakenings are perhaps to be dreadd. Yu arecarrid away by a passion which your state of life ------ But pardon, reverend sir, I far tha I am ver-stpping the boundaries of discretion."
"Say everything, sir; I am willing to hear all, I wish to now everything."
"Oh, well! If, as I do not doubt to be the case, you turn to the profit of charity all the restlactivities with which the passions of your heart furnish you, you must often be blessed for your odwrks."
The Abbe once more smiled that dubious and fatal smile which gave so singular an expression to hillid countenance. He rose and took his leave without having given his name, and without any one aigthought to ask him for it.
Eliphas and Desbarrolles reconducted him as far as the staircase, in token of respect for his dig as a priest.
Near the staircase he turned and said slowly:
"Before long, you will hear something. ... You will hear me spoken of," he added, emphasizing eacrd. Then he saluted with head and hand, turned without adding a single word, and descended the sarae.
The two friends returned to Mme. A------'s room.
"There is a singular personage," said Eliphas; "I think I have seen Pierrot of the Funambules pla the part of a traitor. What he said to us on his departure seemed to me very much like a threat"{6}
"You frightened him," said Mme. A------. "Before your arrival, he was beginning to open his wholnd, but you spoke to him of conscience and of the laws of the Church, and he no longer dared to tl o what he wished."
"Bah! What did he wish then?"
"To see the devil."
"Perhaps he thought I had him in my pocket?"
"No, but he knows that you give lessons in the Qabalah, and in magic, and so he hoped that you wohelp him in his enterprise. He told my daughter and myself that in his vicarage in the country, ehdalready made one night an evocation of the devil by the help of a popular "grimoire." 'Then' sidhe ' whirlwind seemed to shake the vicarage; the rafts groaned, the wainscoting cracked, the dors hoo, te windows opened with a crash, and whistlings were heard in every corner of the house.' He ten epectd that formidable vision to follow, but he saw nothing; no monster presented itself; n a wrd, te devl would not appear. That is why he is looking for the "grimoire" of Honorius, forhe hops to fnd in t stronger conjurations, and more efficacious rites."
"Really! But the man is then a monster, or a madman!"
"I think he is just simply in love," said Desbarrolles. "He is gnawed by some absurd passion, anpes for absolutely nothing unless he can get the devil to interfere."
"But how then --- what does he mean when he says that we shall hear him spoken of?"
"Who knows? Perhaps he thinks to carry off the Queen of England, or the Sultana Valide."
The conversation dropped, and a whole year passed {165} without Mme. A------. or Desbarrolles, orphas hearing the unknown young priest spoken of.
In the course of the night between the 1st and 2nd of January, 1857, Eliphas Levi was awakened suly by the emotions of a bizarre and dismal dream. It seemed to him that he was in a dilapidated omo gothic architecture, rather like the abandoned chapel of an old castle. A door hidden by a bac dapry opened on to this room; behind the drapery one guessed the hidden light of tapers, and i semedto liphas that, driven by a curiosity full of terror, he was approaching the black drapery.... hen he dapery was parted, and a hand was stretched forth and seized the arm of Eliphas. He sw no ne, bt he eard a low voice which said in his ear:
"Come and see your father, who is about to die."
The magus awoke, his heart palpitating, and his forehead bathed in sweat.
"What can this dream mean?" thought he. "It is long since my father died; why am I told that he oing to die, and why has this warning upset me?"
The following night, the same dream recurred with the same circumstances; once more Eliphas awokearing a voice in his ear repeat:
"Come and see your father, who is about to die."
This repeated nightmare made a painful impression upon Eliphas: he had accepted, for the 3rd Janu an invitation to dinner in pleasant company, but he wrote and excused himself, feeling himself ltl nclined for the gaiety of a banquet of artists. He remained, then, in his study; the weather asclud; at midday he received a visit from one of his magical {166} pupils, Viscount M------. Whn h let, he rain was falling in such abundance that Eliphas offered his umbrella to the Viscount,who efusd it There followed a contest of politeness, of which the result was that Eliphas went ot to ee th Viscunt home. While they were in the street, the rain stopped, the Viscount found a crriage and Eiphas,instead of returning to his house, mechanically crossed the Luxembourg, went ou by thegate whch open on the Rue d'Enfer, and found himself opposite the Pantheon.
A double row of booths, improvised for the Festival of St. Genevieve, indicated to pilgrims the rto St. Etienne-du-Mont. Eliphas, whose heart was sad, and consequently disposed to prayer, folloe ht way and entered the church. It might have been at that time about four o'clock in the afteroo.
The church was full of the faithful, and the office was performed with great concentration, and eordinary solemnity. The banners of the parishes of the city, and of the suburbs, bore witness totepblic veneration for the virgin who saved Paris from famine and invasion. At the bottom of thechrc, he tomb of St. Genevieve shone gloriously with light. They were chanting the litanies, andtheproesson was coming out of the choir.
After the cross, accompanied by its acolytes, and followed by the choirboys, came the banner of Senevieve; then, walking in double file, came the lady devotees of St. Genevieve, clothed in black iha white veil on the head, a blue ribbon around the neck, with the medal of the legend, a taperinth hnd, surmounted by the little gothic lantern that tradition gives to the images of the saint Fr, n te old books, {167} St Genevieve is always represented with a medal on her neck, that whih St Gerain 'Auxerre gave her, and holding a taper, which the devil tries to extinguish, but whic is potectd fro the breath of the unclean spirit by a miraculous little tabernacle.
After the lady devotees came the clergy; then finally appeared the venerable Archbishop of Paris,red with a white mitre, wearing a cope which was supported on each side by his two vicars; the prlt,leaning on his cross, walked slowly, and blessed to right and left the crowd which knelt abouthi pth Eliphas saw the Archbishop for the first time, and noticed the features of his countenanc. heyexpessed kindliness and gentleness; but one might observe the expression of a great fatigue andevenof anervous suffering painfully dissimulated.
The procession descended to the foot of the church, traversing the nave, went up again by the aist the left of the door, and came to the station of the tomb of St. Genevieve; then it returned byterght-hand aisle, chanting the litanies as it went. A group of the faithful followed the procesio, ndwalked immediately behind the Archbishop.
Eliphas mingled in this group, in order more easily to get through the crowd which was about to rm, so that he might regain the door of the church. He was lost in reverie, softened by this piou oenity.
The head of the procession had already returned to the choir, the Archbishop was arriving at the ing of the nave: there the passage was too narrow for three people to walk in file; the Archbisho a n front, and the two grand-vicars behind him, always holding the edges of his cope, which was 16} hu thrown off, and drawn backwards, in such a manner that the prelate presented his breast unoveed,andprotected only the by crossed embroideries of his stole.
Then those who were behind the Archbishop saw him tremble, and we heard an interruption in a loud clear voice; but without shouting, or clamour. What had been said? It seemed that it was: "Dow ihthe goddesses!" But I thought I had not heard aright, so out of place and void of sense it seme. Hoever, the exclamation was repeated twice or thrice; then some one cried: "Save the Archbishp!" Oter oices replied: "To arms!" The crowd, overturning the chairs and the barriers, scattered andrushd toards the doors shrieking. Amidst the wails of the children, and the screams of the wmen, lipha, caried away by the crowd, found himself somehow or other out of the church; but the lst loo that e was ble to cast upon it was smitten with a terrible and ineffaceable picture!
In the midst of a circle made large by the affright of all those who surrounded him, the prelate standing alone, leaning always on his cross, and held up by the stiffness of his cope, which the rn-icars had let go, and which accordingly hung down to the ground.
The head of the Archbishop was a little thrown back, his eyes and his free hand raised to heaven.s attitude was that which Eugene Delacroix has given to the Bishop of Liege in the picture of hisassination by the bandits of the Wild Boar of the Ardennes;<<Extract from Sir Walter Scott's Note o te urder of the Bishop of Liege: "The Bishop's murder did not take place till 1482. In the mothsof ugut and September of that year, "William del la Marck," called 'The Wild Boar of the Ardenes.'enteed ito a conspiracy with the discontented citizens of Liege against their Bishop, Louis o Bouron, bing aded with considerable sums of money by the King of France. By this means and withthe asistanc of may murderers and banditti, who thronged to him as to a leader befitting them, Dela Marc assembed a boy of troops. With this little army he approached the city of Liege. Upon tis, the itizens,who wereengaged in the conspiracy, came to their Bishop, and, offering to stand b him to te death, xhorted hm to march out against these robbers. The Bishop, therefore, put himslf at the ead of a fw troops o his own, trusting to the assistance of the people of Liege. But a soon as thy came in sght of the nemy, the citizens, as before agreed, fled from the Bishop's baner, and he ws left with is own handfl of adherents. At this moment De la Marck charged at the hed of his men ith the expeced success. he Bishop was brought before De la Marck, who first cut hi over the face then murderedhim with his on hand, and caused his body to be exposed naked in the reat square of iege before St.Lambert's Catheral."
Three years after the Bishop's death, Maximilian, Emperor of Austria, caused De la Marck to be rrested at Utrecht, where he was beheaded in 1485.>> there was in his gesture the whole {169} epi rmrtyrdom; it was an acceptance and an offering; a prayer for his people, and a pardon for his mrdre.
The day was falling, and the church was beginning to grow dark. The Archbishop, his arms raised eaven, lighted by a last ray which penetrated the casements of the nave, stood out upon a dark bakrud, where one could scarcely distinguish a pedestal without a statue, on which were written thee wowods of the Passion of Christ: ECCE HOMO! and farther in the background, an apocalyptic paintng eprsening the four plagues ready to let themselves loose upon the world, and the whirlwinds ofhell folowin the dusty traces of the pale horse of death.
Before the Archbishop, a lifted arm, sketched in shadow like an infernal silhouette, held and brahed a knife. Policemen, sword in hand, were running up.
And while all this tumult was going on at the bottom of the church, the singing of the litanies cnued in the choir, {170} as the harmony of the orbs of heaven goes on for ever, careless of our rvltons and of our anguish.
Eliphas Levi had been swept out of the church by the crowd. He had come out by the right-hand do Almost at the same moment the left-hand door was flung violently open, and a furious group of me uhd out of the church.
This group was whirling around a man whom fifty arms seemed to hold, whom a hundred shaken fists ht to strike.
This man later complained of having been roughly handled by the police, but, as far as one could in such an uproar, the police were rather protecting him against the exasperation of the mob.
Women were running after him, shrieking: "Kill him!"
"But what has he done?" cried other voices.
"The wretch! He has struck the Archbishop with his fist!" said the women.
Then others came out of the church, and contradictory accounts were flying to and fro.
"The archbishop was frightened, and has fainted," said some.
"He is dead!" replied others.
"Did you see the knife?" added a third comer. "It is as long as a sabre, and the blood was steamon the blade."
"The poor Archbishop has lost one of his slippers," remarked an old woman, joining her hands.
"It is nothing! It is nothing!" cried a woman who rented chairs. "You can come back to the churMonseigneur is not hurt; they have just said so from the pulpit."
The crowd then made a movement to return to the church. {171}
"Go! Go!" said at that very moment the grave and anguished voice of a priest. "The office canno continued; we are going to close the church: it is profaned."
"How is the Archbishop?" said a man.
"Sir," replied the priest, "the Archbishop is dying; perhaps even at this very moment he is dead! The crowd dispersed in consternation to spread the mournful news over Paris.
A bizarre incident happened to Eliphas, and made a kind of diversion for his deep sorrow at what just passed.
At the moment of the uproar, an aged woman of the most respectable appearance had taken his arm, claimed his protection.
He made it a duty to reply to this appeal, and when he had got out of the crowd with this lady: "happy I am," said she, "to have met a man who weeps for this great crime, for which, at this momet omany wretches rejoice!"
"What are you saying, madam? How is it possible that there should exist beings so depraved as tooice at so great a misfortune?"
"Silence!" said the old lady; "perhaps we are overheard. ... Yes," she added, lowering her voicehere are people who are exceedingly pleased at what has happened. And look there, just now, ther a man of sinister mien, who said to the anxious crowd, when they asked him what had happened, 'h,itisnothing! It is a spider which has fallen.'"<<This man was presumably Levi himself. As "th abminbleauthors of the Grimoires concealed "child" beneath "kid," so Levi is careful to disguisehis rue ttitde to the Church which he wished to destroy. --- O. M.>>
"No, madam, you must have misunderstood. The crowd {172} would not have suffered so abominable aark, and the man would have been immediately arrested."<<Unless he were able to make himself inviil,as Levi, of course, could do. This is the point of his irony. --- O. M.>>
"Would to God that all the world thought as you do!" said the lady.
Then she added: "I recommend myself to your prayers, for I see clearly that you are a man of God. "Perhaps every one does not think so," replied Eliphas.
"And what does the world matter to us?" replied the lady with vivacity; "the world lies and calutes, and is impious! It speaks evil of you, perhaps. I am not surprised at it, and if you knew hti says of me, you would easily understand why I despise its opinion!"
"The world speaks evil of you, madam?"
"Yes, in truth, and the greatest evil that can be said."
"How so?"
"It accuses me of sacrilege."
"You frighten me. Of what sacrilege, if you please?"
"Of an unworthy comedy that I am supposed to have played in order to deceive two children, on thentain of the Salette."
"What! You must be ------"
"I am Mademoiselle de la Merliere."
"I have heard speak of your trial, mademoiselle, and of the scandal which it caused, but it seemsme that your age and your position ought to have sheltered you from such an accusation."
"Come and see me, sir, and I will present you to my lawyer, M. Favre, who is a man of talent whomish to gain to God." {173}
Thus talking, the two companions had arrived at the Rue du Vieux Colombier. The Lady thanked her ovised cavalier, and renewed her invitation to come to see her.
"I will try to do so," said Eliphas; "but if I come shall I ask the porter for Mille. de la Merli"
"Do not do so," said she; "I am not know under that name; ask for Mme. Dutruck."
"Dutruck, certainly, madam; I present my humble compliments."
And they separated.
The trial of the assassin began, and Eliphas, reading in the newspapers that the man was a priestat he had belonged to the clergy of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, that he had been a country vicar, an hthe seemed exalted to the point of madness, recalled the pale priest who, a year earlier, had benlokig for the "grimoire" of Honorius. But the description which the public sheets gave of the rimnaldisgreed with the recollection of the Professor of Magic. In fact, the majority of the paprs sid tat h had black hair. ... "It is not he, then," thought Eliphas. "However, I still keep i my er andin mymemory the word which would now be explained for me by this great crime: 'You willsoon larn soething Before a little, you will hear speak of me.'"
The trial took place with all the frightful vicissitudes with which every one is familiar, and thcused was condemned to death.
The next day, Eliphas read in a legal newspaper the account of this unheard-of scene in the annal justice, but a cloud passed over his eyes when he came to the description of the accused: "He isbod" {174}
"It must be he," said the Professor of Magic.
Some days afterwards, a person who had been able to sketch the convict during the trial, showed i Eliphas.
"Let me copy this drawing," said he, all trembling with fear.
He made the copy, and took it to his friend Desbarrolles, of whom he asked, without other explana:
"Do you know this head?"
"Yes," said Desbarrolles energetically. "Wait a moment: yes, it is the mysterious priest whom we at Mme. A------'s, and who wanted to make magical evocations."
"Oh, well, my friend, you confirm me in my sad conviction. The man we saw, we shall never see ag the hand which you examined has become a bloody hand. We have heard speak of him, as he told usw huld; that pale priest, do you know what was his name?"
"Oh, my God!" said Desbarolles, changing colour, "I am afraid to know it!"
"Well, you know it: it was the wretch Louis Verger!"
Some weeks after what we have just recorded, Eliphas Levi was talking with a bookseller whose spety was to make a collection of old books concerning the occult sciences. They were talking of th gioire" of Honorius.
"Now-a-days, it is impossible to find it," said the merchant. "The last that I had in my hands Id to a priest for a hundred francs."
"A young priest? And do you remember what he looked like?"
"Oh, perfectly, but you ought to know him well yourself, {175} for he told me he had seen you, an is I who sent him to you."
No more doubt, then; the unhappy priest had found the fatal "grimoire," he had done the evocationd prepared himself for the murder by a series of sacrileges. For this is in what the infernal evctos consist, according to the "grimoire" of Honorius:<<WEH NOTE: This is a loose paraphrase and elbeat distortion of the first preparations and orison following the "Bull of Honorius" in the ealy artof he Grimoire. Not only is the book libeled to Honorius III, instead of Honorius II as Lei sttes Wait says Honorous I!), but the "diabolical signatures" are totally different from those escried byLevi! Levi's changes obscure the text and add false linkages to "satanic" language, in dditio to exggeratng the very real sacrileges. A brief account of this Grimoire will be found inthe "Thlema Loge Caledar" for March 1989 e.v. A translation of the the actual Grimoire will be fund in Iries Sha's "The ecret Lore of Magic", Citadel Press, New York, 1970.>>
"Choose a black cock, and give him the name of the spirit of darkness which one wishes to evoke.
"Kill the cock, and keep its heart, its tongue, and the first feather of its left wing.
"Dry the tongue and the heart, and reduce them to powder.
"Eat no meat and drink no wine, that day.
"On Tuesday, at dawn, say a mass of the angels.
"Trace upon the altar itself, with the feather of the cock dipped in the consecrated wine, certaiabolical signatures (those of Mr. Home's pencil, and the bloody hosts of Vintras).
"On Wednesday, prepare a taper of yellow wax; rise at midnight, and alone, in the church, begin tffice of the dead.
"Mingle with this office infernal evocations.
"Finish the office by the light of a single taper, extinguish it immediately, and remain without t in the church thus profaned until sunrise.
"On Thursday, mingle with the consecrated water the powder of the tongue and heart of the black c and let the whole be swallowed by a male lamb of nine days old. ..." {176}
The hand refuses to write the rest. It is a mixture of brutalizing practices and revolting crimeo constituted as to kill for evermore judgment and conscience.<<The great painter, dipping his brs nearthquake and eclipse, employs an excess of yellow. --- O. M.>>
But in order to communicate with the phantom of absolute evil, to realize that phantom to the poif seeing and touching it, is it not necessary to be without conscience and without judgment?
There is doubtless the secret of this incredible perversity, of this murderous fury, of this unwhome hate against all order, all ministry, all hierarchy, of this fury, above all, against the dogawih sanctifies peace, obedience, gentleness, purity, under so touching an emblem as that of a mohe.
This wretch thought himself sure not to die. The Emperor, thought he, would be obliged to pardon; an honourable exile awaited him; his crime would give him an enormous celebrity; his reveries wudb bought for their weight in gold by the booksellers. He would become immensely rich, attract henoic of a great lady, and marry beyond the seas. It is by such promises that the phantom of th deil,lon ago, lured Gilles de Laval, Seigneur of Retz, and made him wade from crime to crime. Aman apabe ofevoking the devil, according to the rites of the "grimoire" of Honorius, has gone so ar upn theroad f evil that he is disposed to all kinds of hallucinations, and all lies. So, Vergr slep in blod, todream of I know not what abominable pantheon; and he awoke upon the scaffold.
But the aberrations of perversity do not constitute an insanity; the execution of this wretch proit. {177}
One knows what desperate resistance he made to his executioners. "It is treason," said he; "I ca die so! Only one hour, an hour to write to the Emperor! The Emperor is bound to save me."
Who, then, was betraying him?
Who, then, had promised him life?
Who, then, had assured him beforehand of a clemency which was impossible, because it would revolt conscience of the public?
Ask all that of the "grimoire" of Honorius!
Two incidents in this tragic story bear upon the phenomena produced by Mr. Home: the noise of therm heard by the wicked priest in his early evocations, and the difficulty which he found in expresn is real thought in the presence of Eliphas Levi.
One may also comment upon the apparition of the sinister man taking pleasure in the public grief, uttering an indeed infernal word in the midst of the consternation of the crowd, an apparition ol oiced by the ecstatic of La Salette, the too celebrated Mlle. de La Merliere, who has the air ate al f a worthy individual, but very excitable, and perhaps capable of acting and speaking withot kowig i herself, under the influence of a sort of ascetic sleep-waking.
This word "sleep-waking" brings us back to Mr. Home, and our anecdotes have not made us forget whhe title of this work promised to our readers.
We ought, then, to tell them what Mr. Home is.
We keep our promise.
"Mr. Home is an invalid suffering from a contagious sleep-waking." {178}
This is an assertion.
It remains to us to give an explanation and a demonstration.
That explanation and demonstration, in order to be complete, demand a work sufficient to fill a b
That book has been written, and we shall publish it shortly.
Here is the title:
"The Reason of Miracles, or the Devil at the Tribunal of Science."<<That was the title which we ided at that time to give to the book which we now publish. --- E. L.>>
"Why the devil?"
Because we have demonstrated by facts what Mr. de Mirville had, before us, incompletely set forth We say "incompletely"; because the devil is, for Mr. de Mirville, a fantastic personage, while fou,it is the misuse of a natural force.
A medium once said: "Hell is not a place, it is a state."
We shall be able to add: "The devil is not a person or a force; it is a vice, and in consequence,eakness."
Let us return for a moment to the study of phenomena!
Mediums are, in general, of poor health and narrow limitations.
They can accomplish nothing extraordinary in the presence of calm and educated persons.
One must be accustomed to them before seeing or feeling anything.
The phenomena are not identical for all present. For example, where one will see a hand, anotherl perceive nothing but a whitish smoke. {179}
Persons impressed by the magnetism of Mr. Home feel a sort of indisposition; it seems to them thae room turns round, and the temperature seems to them to grow rapidly lower.
The miracles are more successful in the presence of a few people chosen by the medium himself.
In a meeting of several persons, it may be that all will see the miracles --- with the exception ne, who will see absolutely nothing.
Among the persons who do see, all do not see the same thing.
Thus, for example:
One evening, at Mme. de V------'s, the medium made appear a child which that lady had lost. Mme.B------ alone saw the child; Count de M------ saw a little whitish vapour, in the shape of a pyrai;te others saw nothing.
Everybody knows that certain substances, hashish, for example, intoxicate without taking away the of reason, and cause to be seen with an astonishing vividness things which do not exist.
A great part of the phenomena of Mr. Home belong to a natural influence similar to that of hashis This is the reason why the medium refuses to operate except before a small number of persons chosb himself.
The rest of these phenomena should be attributed to magnetic power.
To see anything at Mr. Home's "seances" is not a reassuring index of the health of him who sees.
And even if his health should be in other ways excellent, {180} the vision indicates a transitoryturbation of the nervous apparatus in its relation to imagination and light.
If this perturbation were frequently repeated, he would become seriously ill.
Who knows how many collapses, attacks of tetanus, insanities, violent deaths, the mania of table-ing has already produced?
These phenomena become particularly terrible when perversity takes possession of them.
It is then that one can really affirm the intervention and the presence of the spirit of evil.
Perversity or fatality, these pretended miracles obey one of these two powers.
As to qabalistic writings and mysterious signatures, we shall say that they reproduce themselves he magnetic intuition of the mirages of thought in the universal vital fluid.
These instinctive reflections may be produced if the magic Word has nothing arbitrary in it, and he signs of the occult sanctuary are the natural expressions of absolute ideas.
It is this which we shall demonstrate in our book.
But, in order not to send back our readers from the unknown to the future, we shall detach before two chapters of that unpublished work, one upon the qabalistic Word, the other upon the secrets fteQabalah, and we shall draw conclusions which will compete in a manner satisfactory to all the xpantin which we have promised in the matter of Mr. Home.
There exists a power which generates forms; this power is light. {181}
Light creates forms in accordance with the laws of eternal mathematics, by the universal equilibrof light and shadow.
The primitive signs of thought trace themselves by themselves in the light, which is the materialtrument of thought.
God is the soul of light. The universal and infinite light is for us, as it were, the body of go The Qabalah, or transcendental magic, is the science of light.
Light corresponds to life.
The kingdom of shadows is death.
All the dogmas of true religion are written in the Qabalah in characters of light upon a page of ow.
The page of shadows consists of blind beliefs.
Light is the great plastic medium.
The alliance of the soul and the body is a marriage of light and shadow.
Light is the instrument of the Word, it is the white writing of God upon the great book of night.Light is the source of thought, and it is in it that one must seek for the origin of all religiou om. But there is only one true dogma, as there is only one pure light; shadow alone is infinitey ared
Light, shadow, and their harmony, which is the vision of beings, form the principle analogous to great dogmas of Trinity, of Incarnation, and of Redemption.
Such is also the mystery of the cross.
It will be easy for us to prove this by an appeal to religious monuments, by the signs of the prive Word, by {182} those books which contain the secrets of the Qabalah, and finally by the reasondepanation of all the mysteries by the means of the keys of qabalistic magic.
In all symbolisms, in fact, we find ideas of antagonism and of harmony producing a trinitarian no in the conception of divinity, following which the mythological personification of the four cardnlpints of heaven completes the sacred septenary, the base of all dogmas and of all rites. In orertocovince oneself of it, it is sufficient to read again and meditate upon the learned work of Dpui, wo wuld be a great qabalist if he had seen a harmony of truths where his negative preoccupatons nly ermited him to see a concert of errors.
It is not here our business to repeat his work, which everybody knows; but it is important to prohat the religious reform brought about by Moses was altogether qabalistic, that Christianity, in nttting a new dogma, has simply come nearer to the primitive sources of the teachings of Moses, ad ha te Gospel is no more than a transparent veil thrown upon the universal and natural mysteriesof rietalinitiation.
A distinguished but little known man of learning, Mr. P. Lacour, in his book on the Elohim or MosGod, has thrown a great light on that question, and has rediscovered in the symbols of Egypt all h legorical figures of Genesis. More recently, another courageous student of vast erudition, Mr.Vicet de l'Yonne), has published a treatise upon idolatry among both the ancients and the moderns inwhih h raises the veil of universal mythology.
We invite conscientious students to read these various {183} works, and we confine ourselves to tpecial study of the Qabalah among the Hebrews.
The Logos, or the word, being according to the initiates of that science the complete revelation, principles of the holy Qabalah ought to be found reunited in the signs themselves of which the piiie alphabet is composed.
Now, this is what we find in all Hebrew grammars.<<This is all deliberately wrong. That Levi knee correct attributions is evident from a M.S. annotated by himself. Levi refused to reveal theseatiutions, rightly enough, as his grade was not high enough, and the time not ripe. Note the subley f he form of his statement. The correct attributions are in Liber 777. --- O. M.>>
There is a fundamental and universal letter which generates all the others. It is the IOD.
There are two other mother letters, opposed and analogous among themselves;,the ALEPH HB:Aleph ahe MEM HB:Mem , according to others the SCHIN HB:Shin .
There are seven double letters, the BETH HB:Bet , the GIMEL HB:Gemel , the DALETH HB:Dalet , the HB:Koph , the PE HB:Peh , the RESH HB:Resh , and the TAU HB:Taw .
Finally, there are twelve simple letters; in all twenty-two. The unity is represented, in a rela manner, by the ALEPH; the ternary is figured either by IOD, MEM, SCHIN, or by ALEPH, MEM, SCHIN. h septenary, by BETH, GIMEL, DALETH, KAPH, PE, RESH, TAU.
The duodenary, by the other letters.
The duodenary is the ternary multiplied by four; and it reenters thus into the symbolism of the snary.
Each letter represents a number: each assemblage of letters, a series of numbers. {184}
The numbers represent absolute philosophical ideas.
The letters are shorthand hieroglyphs.
Let us see now the hieroglyphic and philosophical significations of each of the twenty-two lettervide" Bellarmin, Reuchlin, Saint-Jerome, Kabala denudata, Sepher Yetzirah, Technica curiosa of FahrShott, Picus de Mirandola, and other authors, especially those of the collection of Pistorius).
THE MOTHERS
The IOD. --- The absolute principle, the productive being.
The MEM. --- Spirit, or the Jakin of Solomon.
The SCHIN. --- Matter, or the column called Boaz.
THE DOUBLE LETTERS
BETH. Reflection, thought, the moon, the Angel Gabriel, Prince of mysteries.
GIMEL. Love, will, Venus, the Angel Anael, Prince of life and death.
DALETH. Force, power, Jupiter, Sachiel, Melech, King of kings.
KAPH. Violence, strife, work, Mars, Samael Zebaoth, Prince of Phalanges.
PE. Eloquence, intelligence, Mercury, Raphael, Prince of sciences.
RESH. Destruction and regeneration, Time, Saturn, Cassiel, King of tombs and of solitude.
TAU. Truth, light, the Sun, Michael, King of the Elohim. {185}
THE SIMPLE LETTERS
The simple letters are divided into four triplicities, having for titles the four letters of the ne tetragam Yod-Heh-Vau-Heh.
In the divine tetragram, the IOD, as we have just said, symbolizes the productive and active prine. --- The HE HB:Heh represents the passive productive principle, the CTEIS. --- The VAU symbolzste union of the two, or the lingam, and the final HE is the image of the second reproductive prncpl; hat is to say, of the passive reproduction in the world of effects and forms.
The twelve simple letters, HB:Qof HB:Tzaddi HB:Ayin HB:Samekh HB:Nun HB:Lamed HB:Tet HB:ChHB:Zain HB:Vau HB:Heh and HB:Yod or HB:Mem , divided into threes, reproduce the notion of thepiiive triangle, with the interpretation, and under the influence, of each of the letters of the etagam
One sees that the philosophy and the religious dogma of the Qabalah are there indicated in a comp but veiled manner.
Let us now investigate the allegories of Genesis.
"In the beginning (IOD the unity of being,) Elohim, the equilibrated forces (Jakin and Boaz), cre the heaven (spirit) and the earth (matter), or in other words, good and evil, affirmation and neain" Thus begins the Mosaic account of creation.
Then, when it comes to giving a place to man, and a sanctuary to his alliance with divinity, Moseeaks of a garden, in the midst of which a single fountain branched into four rivers (the IOD and h ERAGRAM), and then of two trees, one of life, and the other of death, planted near the river. hee replaced the man and the woman, the active and the {186} passive; the woman sympathizes with eat, ad daws Adam with her in her fall. They are then driven out from the sanctuary of truth, an a krub a bul-headed sphinx, "vide" the hieroglyphs of Assyria, of India and of Egypt) is placed t thegate f thegarden of truth in order to prevent the profane from destroying the tree of life. Here w have ysterius dogma, with all its allegories and its terrors, replacing the simplicity of ruth. he idolhas repaced God, and fallen humanity will not delay to give itself up to the worshi of the olden caf.
The mystery of the necessary and successive reactions of the two principles on each other is indid subsequently by the allegory of Cain and Abel. Force avenges itself by oppression for the seducino weakness; martyred weakness expiates and intercedes for force when it is condemned for its crmetobrnding remorse. Thus is revealed the equilibrium of the moral world; here is the basis of al te pophcies, and the fulcrum of all intelligent political thought. To abandon a force to its on exesse is o condemn it to suicide.
Dupuis failed to understand the universal religious dogma of the Qabalah, because he had not the nce of the beautiful hypothesis, partly demonstrated and realized more from day to day by the disoeis of science: I refer to "universal analogy."
Deprived of this key of transcendental dogma, he could see no more of the gods than the sun, the n planets, and the twelve signs of the zodiac; but he did not see in the sun the image of the Logso lato, in the seven planets the seven notes of the celestial gamut, and in the zodiac the quadrtue f he ternary circle of all initiations. {187}
The Emperor Julian, that "adept of the spirit" who was never understood, that initiate whose paga was less idolatrous than the faith of certain Christians, the Emperor Julian, we say, understoodbte than Dupuis and Volney the symbolic worship of the sun. In his hymn to the king, Helios, he ecgnze that the star of day is but the reflection and the material shadow of that sun of truth whch lluine the world of intelligence, and which is itself only a light borrowed from the Absolute. I is remrkable thing that Julian has ideas of the Supreme God, that the Christians thought thy aloe adoed, mch greater and more correct than those of some of the fathers of the Church, who wre hiscontemorarie, and his adversaries.
This is how he expresses himself in his defence of Hellenism:
"It is not sufficient to write in a book that God spake, and things were made. It is necessary tamine whether the things that one attributes to God are not contrary to the very laws of Being. o,i it is so, God could not have made them, for He could not contradict Nature without denying Hisef... God being eternal, it is of the nature of necessity that His orders should be immutable asHe.
So spake that apostate, that man of impiety! Yet, later, a Christian doctor, become the oracle oe theological schools, taking his inspiration perhaps from these splendid words of the misbelieve,fud himself obliged to bridle superstition by writing that beautiful and brave maxim which easil rsuesthe thought of the great Emperor: {188}
"A thing is not just because God wills it; but God wills it because it is just."
The idea of a perfect and immutable order in nature, the notion of an ascending hierarchy and of scending influence in all beings, had furnished to the ancient hierophants the first classificatino he whole of natural history. Minerals, vegetables, animals were studied analogically; and the atrbued their origin and their properties to the passive or to the active principle, to the darkessor o te light. The sign of their election or of their reprobation, traced in their natural fom, bcamethe ieroglyphic character of a vice or a virtue; then, by dint of taking the sign for thething and xpresing the thing by the sign, they ended by confounding them. Such is the origin of tat fablous ntural istory, in which lions allow themselves to be defeated by cocks, where dolphinsdie of orrow fr the igratitude of men, in which mandrakes speak, and the stars sing. This enchaned worldis indee the poeic domain of magic; but it has no other reality than the meaning of the heroglyphswhich gav it birth For the sage who understands the analogies of the transcendental Qablah, and te exact reation of ieas with signs, this fabulous country of the fairies is a country sill fertilein discoveres; for thoe truths which are too beautiful, or too simple to please men, wthout any vel, have all een hidden i these ingenious shadows.
Yes, the cock can intimidate the lion, and make himself master of him, because vigilance often sunts force, and succeeds in taming wrath. The other fables of the sham natural history of the ancet re explained in the same manner, and in this allegorical use of analogies, one can {189} alreay ndrsand the possible abuses and predict the errors to which the Qabalah was obliged to give birh.
The law of analogies, in fact, has been for qabalists of a secondary rank the object of a blind aanatical faith. It is to this belief that one must attribute all the superstitions with which th dps of occult science have been reproached. This is how they reasoned:
The sign expresses the thing.
The thing is the virtue of the sign.
There is an analogical correspondence between the sign and the thing signified.
The more perfect is the sign, the more entire is the correspondence.
To say a word is to evoke a thought and make it present. To name God is to manifest God.
The word acts upon souls, and souls react upon bodies; consequently one can frighten, console, cato fall ill, cure, even kill, and raise from the dead by means of words.
To utter a name is to create or evoke a being.
In the name is contained the "verbal" or spiritual doctrine of the being itself.
When the soul evokes a thought, the sign of that thought is written automatically in the light.
To invoke is to adjure, that is to say, to swear by a name; it is to perform an act of faith in tname, and to communicate in the virtue which it represents.
Words in themselves are, then, good or evil, poisonous or wholesome.
The most dangerous words are vain and lightly uttered words, because they are the voluntary abort of thought. {190}
A useless word is a crime against the spirit of intelligence; it is an intellectual infanticide.
Things are for every one what he makes of them by naming them. The "word" of every one is an impion or an habitual prayer.
To speak well is to live well.
A fine style is an aureole of holiness.
From these principles, some true, others hypothetical, and from the more or less exaggerated consnces that they draw from them, there resulted for superstitious qabalists and absolute confidencei nhantments, evocations, conjurations and mysterious prayers. Now, as faith has always accomplihe mrales, apparitions, oracles, mysterious cures, sudden and strange maladies, have never been lckig t it
It is thus that a simple and sublime philosophy has become the secret science of Black Magic. Itfrom this point of view above all that the Qabalah is still able to excite the curiosity of the mjrt in our so distrustful and so credulous century. However, as we have just explained, that is otth tue science.
Men rarely seek the truth from its own sake; they have always a secret motive in their efforts, spassion to satisfy, or some greed to assuage. Among the secrets of the Qabalah there is one abovealwich has always tormented seekers; it is the secret of the transmutation of metals, and of the onerio of all earthly substances into gold.
Alchemy borrowed all these signs from the Qabalah, and it is upon the law of analogies resulting the harmony of contraries that it based its operations. An immense physical secret was, moreove,hden under the qabalistic {191} parables of the ancients. This secret we have arrived at deciphrig,an we shall submit its letter to the investigations of the gold- makers. Here it is:
1 Degree. The four imponderable fluids are nothing but the diverse manifestations of one same unsal agent, which is light.
2 Degree. Light is the fire which serves for the Great Work under the form of electricity.
3 Degree. The human will directs the vital light by means of the nervous system. In our days thi called Magnetism.
4 Degree. The secret agent of the Great Work, the Azoth of the sages, the living and life-givingd of the philosophers, the universal metallic productive agent, is MAGNETIZED ELECTRICITY.<<In thsjk, Levi indicates that he really knew the Great Arcanum; but only those who also possess it canreogiz it, and enjoy the joke. --- O.M.>>
The alliance of these two words still does not tell us much, and yet, perhaps, they contain a forufficient to overturn the world. We say "perhaps" on philosophical grounds, for, personally, we aen doubt whatever of the high importance of this great hermetic arcanum.
We have just said that alchemy is the daughter of the Qabalah; to convince oneself of the truth ois it is sufficient to look at the symbols of Flamel, of Basil Valentine, the pages of the Jew Abaa,and the more or less apocryphal oracles of the Emerald Table of Hermes. Everywhere one finds hetrce of that decade of Pythagoras, which is so magnificently applied in the Sepher Yetzirah to he ompeteand absolute notion of divine things, that decade composed of unity and a triple ternarywhic theRabbs have {192} called the Berashith, and the Mercavah, the luminous tree of the Sephiroh, an the ey ofthe Shemhamphorash.
We have spoken at some length in our book entitled "Dogme et rituel de la haute magie" of a hierohic monument (preserved up to our own time under a futile pretext) which alone explains all the mseius writings of high initiation. This monument is that Tarot of the Bohemians which gave rise o urgaes of cards. It is composed of twenty-two allegorical letters, and of four series of ten herolyps ech, referring to the four letters of the name of Jehovah. The diverse combinations of tose igns andthe numbers which correspond to them, form so many qabalistic oracles, so that the whle scence s conained in this mysterious book. This perfectly simple philosophical machine astonihes bythe deth of ts results.
The Abbe Trithemius, one of our greatest masters in magic, composed a very ingenious work, which alls Polygraphy,<<WEH NOTE: This is more widely known as the "Stegonographia".>> upon the qabalisi lhabet. It is a combined series of progressive alphabets where each letter represents a word, hewodscorrespond to each other, and complete themselves from one alphabet to another; and there i nodout tat Trithemius was acquainted with the Tarot, and made use of it to set his learned combiatios inlogial order.
Jerome Cardan was acquainted with the symbolical alphabet of the initiates, as one may recognize he number and disposition of the chapters of his work on Subtlety. This work, in fact, is composdo wenty-two chapters, and the subject of each chapter is analogous to the number and to the alleor o te corresponding card of the Tarot. We {193} have made the same observation on a book of St Matinenttled "A Natural Picture of the Relations which exist between God, Man and the Universe." Thetradtionof this secret has, then, never been interrupted from the first ages of the Qabalah t our wn ties.<<EH NOTE: Add to this the illustrations by William Blake for the Book of Job. Couning th titlepage a zero for the Fool Trump, there are 22 illustrations numbered to match the Majo Trumps with afew actally employing traditional design elements from the corresponding Trumps.>>
The table-turners, and those who make the spirits speak with alphabetical charts, are, then, a goany centuries behind the times; they do not know that there exists an oracular instrument whose wrsae always clear and always accurate, by means of which one can communicate with the seven geniiofth panets, and make to speak at will the seventy-two wheels of Assiah, of Yetzirah, and of Bria. or hatpurpose it is sufficient to understand the system of universal analogies, such as Swedenorg as st itforth in the hieroglyphic key of the arcana; then to mix the cards together, and drawfrom hem b chane, always grouping them by the numbers corresponding to the ideas on which one desres enightenent; ten, reading the oracles as qabalistic writings ought to be read, that is to say beginnng in te middl and going from right to left for odd numbers, beginning on the right for evn number, and inerpretin successively the number for the letter which corresponds to it, the grouing of th letters y the addtion of their numbers, and all the successive oracles by their numericl order, ad their hiroglyphic elations.
This operation of the qabalistic sages, originally intended to discover the rigorous development bsolute ideas, degenerated into superstition when it fell into the hands of the ignorant priests n h nomadic ancestors of the Bohemians who possessed the Tarot in the Middle Ages; {194} they didno kowhow to employ it properly, and used it solely for fortune-telling.
The game of chess, attributed to Palamedes, has no other origin than the Tarot,<<WEH NOTE: Theseories of the history of Tarot and Chess are worthless 18th century fables. The "Bohemians", by wihLvi means the Gypsies, did not arrive in Europe until centuries after the appearance of Tarot. Taotma have imitated chess, but the antiquity of the latter precludes any influence by the former>> nd ne inds there the same combinations and the same symbols: the king, the queen, the knight, he sldie, th fool, the tower, and houses representing numbers. In old times, chess-players sough upontheirchessboard the solution of philosophical and religious problems, and argued silently wih eachother n manouvring the hieroglyphic characters across the numbers.<<WEH NOTE: The Order ofthe Golen Dawnmay hav designed Enochian Chess on this suggestion.>> Our vulgar game of goose, reived fro the oldGrecian ame, and also attributed to Palamedes, is nothing but a chess-board with otionlessfigures ad numbersmovable by means of dice. It is a Tarot disposed in the form of a whel, for theuse of asprants to iitiation. Now, the word Tarot, in which one finds "rota" and "tora" itself exresses, as illiam Postl has demonstrated, this primitive disposition in the form of a heel.
The hieroglyphs of the game of goose are simpler than those of the Tarot, but one finds the same ols in it: the juggler, the king, the queen, the tower, the devil or Typhon, death, and so on. Tedc-indicated chances of the game represent those of life, and conceal a highly philosophical sene uficently profound to make sages meditate, and simple enough to be understood by children.
The allegorical personage Palamedes, is, however, identical with Enoch, Hermes, and Cadmus, to wharious mythologies have attributed the invention of letters. But, in the conception of Homer, Paaee, the man who exposed the fraud of Ulysses and fell a victim to his revenge, represents {195} heintitor or the man of genius whose eternal destiny is to be killed by those whom he initiates. Thedisipl does not become the living realization of the thoughts of the Master until he had drunkhis loodand aten his flesh, to use the energetic and allegorical expression of the initiator, so ll unerstod by hristians.
The conception of the primitive alphabet was, as one may easily see, the idea of a universal lang which should enclose in its combinations, and even in its signs themselves, the recapitulation adteevolutionary law of all sciences, divine and human. In our own opinion, nothing finer or greaerha eer been dreamt by the genius of man; and we are convinced that the discovery of this secretof he ncint world has fully repaid us for so many years of sterile research and thankless toil inthe rypt of ost sciences and the cemeteries of the past.
One of the first results of this discovery should be to give a new direction to the study of the oglyphic writings as yet so imperfectly deciphered by the rivals and successors of M. Champollion
The system of writing of the disciples of Hermes being analogical and synthetical, like all the s of the Qabalah, would it not be useful, in order to read the pages engraved upon the stones of teacent temples, to replace these stones in their place, and to count the numbers of their letters cmprig them with the numbers of other stones?
The obelisk of Luxor, for example, was it not one of the two columns at the entrance of a temple?s it at the right-hand or the left-hand pillar? If at the right, these signs refer to the activepicple; if at the left, it is by the passive principle {196} that one must interpret its charactes. Bt here should be an exact correspondence of one obelisk with the other, and each sign should eceve ts omplete sense from the analogy of contraries. M. Champollion found Coptic in the hieroglphic, anthersavant would perhaps find more easily, and more fortunately, Hebrew; but what would oe sayif itwere either Hebrew nor Coptic? If it were, for example, the universal primitive languae? No, thislanguae, which was that of the transcendental Qabalah, did certainly exist; more, it till exsts at he baseof Hebrew itself, and of all the oriental languages which derive from it; ths languae is tha of the anctuary, and the columns at the entrance of the temples ordinarily contaned all is symbols The intition of the ecstatics comes nearer to the truth with regard to these rimitive sgns that een the scince of the learned, because, as we have said, the universal vital fuid, the asral light, eing the meiating principle between the ideas and the forms, is obedient tothe extraordnary leaps o the soul whch seeks the unknown, and furnishes it naturally with the sigs already foud, but forgoten, of the grat revelations of occultism. Thus are formed the pretende signatures ofspirits, thus ere produced te mysterious writings of Gablidone, who appeared to Dr.Lavater, the phntoms of Schroefer, of St. Micel-Vintras, and the spirits of Mr. Home.
If electricity can move a light, or even a heavy body, without one touching it, is it impossible ive by magnetism a direction to electricity, and to produce, thus naturally, signs and writings? Oecn do it, doubtless; because one does it. {197}
Thus, then, to those who ask us, "What is the most important agent of miracles?" we shall reply - "It is the first matter of the Great Work.
"It is MAGNETIZED ELECTRICITY."
Everything has been created by light.
It is in light that form is preserved.
It is by light that form reproduces itself.
The vibrations of light are the principle of universal movement.
By light, the suns are attached to each other, and they interlace their rays like chains of electty.
Men and things are magnetized by light like the suns, and, by means of electro-magnetic chains whtension is caused by sympathies and affinities, are able to communicate with each other from one n fthe world to the other, to caress or strike, wound or heal, in a manner doubtless natural, butinisbl, and of the nature of prodigy.
There is the secret of magic.
Magic, that science which comes to us from the magi!
Magic, the first of sciences!
Magic, the holiest science, because it establishes in the sublimest manner the great religious tr!
Magic, the most calumniated of all, because the vulgar obstinately confound magic with the supersous sorcery whose abominable practices we have denounced!
It is only by magic that one can reply to the enigmatical questions of the Sphinx of Thebes, and the solution of those problems of religious history which are sealed in the sometimes scandalousosuities which are to be found in the stories of the Bible. {198}
The sacred historians themselves recognize the existence and the power of the magic which boldly lled that of Moses.
The Bible tells us that Jannes and Jambres, Pharaoh's magicians, at first performed "the same mirs" as Moses, and that they declared those which they could not imitate impossible to human scienc. tis in fact more flattering to the self-love of a charlatan to deem that a miracle has taken plce tanto declare himself conquered by the science or skill of a fellow-magician --- above all, whn h isa plitical enemy or a religious adversary.
When does the possible in magical miracles begin and end? Here is a serious and important questi What is certain is the existence of the facts which one habitually describes as miracles. Magneiesand sleep-wakers do them every day; Sister Rose Tamisier did them; the "illuminated" Vintras desthm till; more than fifteen thousand witnesses recently attested those of the American mediums;tenthosan peasants of Berry and Sologne would attest, if need were, those of the god Cheneau (a rtire buton-mrchant who believes himself inspired by God). Are all these people hallucinated or kaves?Halluinate, yes, perhaps, but the very fact that their hallucination is identical, whether sparatey or cllectiely, is it not a sufficiently great miracle on the part of him who produces it,always,at will and ata stated time and place?
To do miracles, and to persuade the multitude that one does them, are very nearly the same thing,ve all in a century as frivolous and scoffing as ours. Now, the world is full of wonder-makers, n cence is often reduced to denying their works or refusing to see them, in order not to be reducd o xaining them, or assigning a cause to them. {199}
In the last century all Europe resounded with the miracles of Cagliostro. Who is ignorant of whaters were attributed to his 'wine of Egypt,' and to his 'elixir'? What can we add to the stories httey tell of his other- world suppers, where he made appear in flesh and blood the illustrious prsnaesof the past? Cagliostro was, however, far from being an initiate of the first order, sincetheGret Wite Brotherhood abandoned him<<This is no more an argument than to say that God "abandond" Crist Matyrdom is usually cited on the other side. Besides, the fate of Cagliostro is unknow --- t leat to he world at large. --- O. M.>> to the Roman Inquisition, before whom he made, if oe can elievethe douments to his trial, so ridiculous and so odious an explanation of the Masonic rigram,L.'. P.. D.'.
But miracles are not the exclusive privilege of the first order of initiates; they are often perfd by beings without education or virtue. Natural laws find an opportunity in an organism whose exetoal qualifications are not clear to us, and they perform their work with their invariable preciio ad alm. The most refined gourmets appreciate truffles, and employ them for their purposes, bu itis ogsthat dig them up: it is analogically the same for plenty of things less material and les gasronoical instincts have groping presentiments, but it is really only science which discovers. Th actul proress of human knowledge has diminished by a great deal the chances of prodigies, bt ther stillremain a great number, since both the power of the imagination and the nature and powr of manetism re not et known. The observation of universal analogies, moreover, has been negleced, and or that eason diination is no longer believed in. {200}
A qabalistic sage may, then, still astonish the crowd and even bewilder the educated:
1 Degree --- By divining hidden things; 2 Degree --- by prediction many things to come; 3 Degree by dominating the will of others so as to prevent them doing what they will, and forcing them to owa they do not will; 4 Degree --- by exciting apparitions and dreams; 5 Degree --- by curing a lrg nmbr of illnesses; 6 Degree --- by restoring life to subjects who display all the symptoms of eat; 7Degee --- lastly, by demonstrating (if need be, by examples) the reality of the philosophicl stne, nd te transmutation of metals, according to the secrets of Abraham the Jew, of Flamel, an of RymondLully
All these prodigies are accomplished by means of a single agent which the Hebrew calls OD, as did Chevalier de Reichenback, which we, with the School of Pasqualis Martinez, call astral light, whc r de Mirville calls the devil, and which the ancient alchemists called Azoth. It is the vital leen wich manifests itself by the phenomena of heat, light, electricity and magnetism, which magntizs al trrestrial globes, and all living beings.
In this agent even are manifested the proofs of the qabalistic doctrine with regard to equilibriud motion, by double polarity; when one pole attracts the other repels, one produces heat, the othrcl, one gives a blue or greenish light, the other a yellow or reddish light.
This agent, by its different methods of magnetization, attracts us to each other, or estranges usm each other, subordinates one to the wishes of the other by causing him to enter his centre of ataton, re-establishes or disturbs the equilibrium in animal economy by its transmutations and its{21}alernate currents, receives and transmits the imprints of the force of imagination which is i me th imge and the semblance of the creative word, and thus produces presentiments and determine drems. The cience of miracles is then the knowledge of this marvellous force, and the art of doig mircles s simly the art of magnetizing or "illuminating" beings, according to the invariable las of mgnetis or asral light.
We prefer the word "light" to the word "magnetism," because it is more traditional in occultism, expresses in a more complete and perfect manner the nature of the secret agent. There is, in truh h liquid and drinkable gold of the masters in alchemy; the word "OR" (the French word for "gold) oms rom the Hebrew "AOUR" which signifies "light." "What do you wish?" they asked the candidat inevey iitiation: "To see the light," should be their answer. The name of illuminati which one rdinrilygive to adepts, has then been generally very badly interpreted by giving to it a mysticalsense as i it sgnified men whose intelligence believes itself to be lighted by a miraculous day. 'Illumnati' eans smply, knowers and possessors of the light, either by the knowledge of the greatmagicalagent, r by th rational and ontological notion of the absolute.
The universal agent is a force tractable and subordinate to intelligence. Abandoned to itself, itke Moloch, devours rapidly all that to which it gives birth, and changes the superabundance of lieit immense destruction. It is, then, the infernal serpent of the ancient myths, the Typhon of th Eypias, and the Moloch of Phoenicia; but if Wisdom, mother of the Elohim, puts her foot upon hishea, se otwears {202} all the flames which he belches forth, and pours with full hands upon the erth vivfyin light. Thus also it is said in the Zohar that at the beginning of our earthly period whenthe eement disputed among themselves the surface of the earth, that fire, like an immense sepent, ad envloped verything in its coils, and was about to consume all beings, when divine clemeny, raisng aroud it th waves of the sea like a vestment of clouds, put her foot upon the head of te serpen and mad him re-nter the abyss. Who does not see in this allegory the first idea, and th most reaonable exlanation,of one of the images dearest to Catholic symbolism, the triumph of theMother of od?
The qabalists say that the occult name of the devil, his true name, is that of Jehovah written bards. This, for the initiate, is a complete revelation of the mysteries of the tetragram. In fac,teorder of the letters of that great name indicates the predominance of the idea over form, of te ctveover the passive, of cause over effect. By reversion that order one obtains the contrary. Jehvahis e who tames Nature as it were a superb horse and makes it go where he will; Chavajoh (th demn) i thehorse without a bridle who, like those of the Egyptians of the song of Moses, falls uon it ride, andhurls him beneath it, into the abyss.
The devil, then, exists really enough for the qabalists; but it is neither a person nor a distinged power of even the forces of Nature. The devil is dispersion, or the slumber of the intelligene I is madness and falsehood.
Thus are explained the nightmares of the Middle Ages; thus, too, are explained the bizarre symbol some initiates, those of the Templars, for example, who are much less to be {203} blamed for havn oshipped Baphomet, than for allowing its image to be perceived by the profane. Baphomet, panthisicfiure of the universal agent, is nothing else than the bearded devil of the alchemists. One now tht te members of the highest grades in the old hermetic masonry attributed to a bearded demo theaccoplisment of the Great Work. At this word, the vulgar hastened to cross themselves, and t hidetheireyes,but the initiates of the cult of Hermes-Pantheos understood the allegory, and werevery creful ot to xplain it to the profane.
Mr. de Mirville, in a book to-day almost forgotten, though it made some noise a few months ago, g himself a great deal of trouble to compile an account of various sorceries, of the kind which filtecompilations of people like Delancre, Delrio, and Bodin. He might have found better than thatinhitoy. And without speaking of the easily attested miracles of the Jansenists of Port Royal, ad o th Decon Paris, what is more marvellous than the great monomania of martyrdom which has made hilden, nd een women, during three hundred years, go to execution as if to a feast? What more manificnt thn tha enthusiastic faith accorded during so many centuries to the most incomprehensible and, umanlyspeakig, to the most revolting mysteries? On this occasion, you will say, the miracls came rom God and on even employs them as a proof of the truth of religion. But, what? heretics too, le themseles be kiled for dogmas, this time quite frankly and really absurd. They then sacificed boh their rason and heir life to their belief? Oh, for heretics, it is evident that the dvil was reponsible. oor folk, ho took the devil for God, and God for the devil! Why have {204} tey not beenundeceived y making thm recognize the true God by the charity, the knowledge, the justce, and abov all, by themercy of hisministers?
The necromancers who cause the devil to appear after a fatiguing and almost impossible series of most revolting evocations, are only children by the side of that St. Anthony of the legend who drwte from hell by thousands, and dragged them everywhere after him, like Orpheus, who attracted tohi oks rocks and the most savage animals.
Callot alone, initiated by the wandering Bohemians during his infancy into the mysteries of blackcery, was able to understand and reproduce the evocations of the first hermit. And do you think hti retracing those frightful dreams of maceration and fasting, the makers of legends have inventd? N; hey have remained far below the truth. The cloisters, in fact, have always been peopled wih nmelss pectres, and their walls have palpitated with shadows and infernal larvae. St. Catherin of ienaon oe occasion passed a week in the midst of an obscene orgy which would have discouragedthe lst ofPietr di Aretino; St. Theresa felt herself carried away living into hell, and there sufered, etweenwalls hich ever closed upon her, tortures which only hysterical women will be able tounderstnd. ...All tha, one will say, happened in the imagination of the sufferers. But where, thn, wouldyou expet facts f a supernatural order to take place? What is certain is that all these vsionarieshave seenand touchd, that they have had the most vivid feeling of a formidable reality. We speak o it from or own expeience, and there are visions of our own first youth, passed in retrat and asceicism, whos memory maks us shudder even now. {205}
God and the devil are the ideals of absolute good and evil. But man never conceives absolute eviave as a false idea of good. Good only can be absolute; and evil is only relative to our ignorane n to our errors. Every man, in order to be a God, first makes himself a devil; but as the law o sliarty is universal, the hierarchy exists in hell as it does in heaven. A wicked man will alway fid oe mre wicked than himself to do him harm; and when the evil is at its climax, it must cease forit culd nly continue by the annihilation of being, which is impossible. Then the man-devils,at th end f ther resources, fall once more under the empire of the god-men, and are saved by thos whom ne at irst tought their victims; but the man who strives to live a life of evil deeds, doeshomage o good y all te intelligence and energy that he develops in himself. For this reason the reat iniiator sad in hisfigurative language: "I would that thou wert cold or hot; but because tho art lukearm, I wil spew the out of my mouth."
The Great Master, in one of his parables, condemns only the idle man who buried his treasure fromr of losing it in the risky operations of that bank which we call life. To think nothing, to lov ohng, to wish for nothing, to do nothing --- that is the real sin. Nature only recognizes and rwadswokers.
The human will develops itself and increases itself by its own activity. In order to will truly, must act. Action always dominates inertia and drags it at its chariot wheels. This is the secre fte influence of the alleged wicked over the alleged good. How many poltroons and cowards thinkthmslvs virtuous because they are afraid to be otherwise! {206} How many respectable women cast n evios ee upon prostitutes! It is not very long ago since convicts were in fashion. Why? Do yu thnk tat pblic opinion can ever give homage to vice? No, but it can do justice to activity andbravey, an it i right that cowardly knaves should esteem bold brigands.
Boldness united to intelligence is the mother of all successes in this world. To undertake, one know; to accomplish, one must will; to will really, one must dare; and in order to gather in peaetefruits of one's audacity, one must keep silent.
TO KNOW, TO DARE, TO WILL, TO KEEP SILENT, are, as we have said elsewhere, the four qabalistic wowhich correspond to the four letters of the tetragram and to the four hieroglyphic forms of the Shn. To know, is the human head; to dare, the claws of the lion; to will, the mighty flanks of thebul;tokeep silent, the mystical wings of the eagle. He only maintains his position above other mn wo des ot prostitute the secrets of his intelligence to their commentary and their laughter.
All men who are really strong are magnetizers, and the universal agent obeys their will. It is tthat they work marvels. They make themselves believed, they make themselves followed, and when te a, "This is thus," Nature changes (in a sense) to the eyes of the vulgar, and becomes what the ret anwished. "This is my flesh and this is my blood," said a Man who had made himself God by hi vitue; ad eighteen centuries, in the presence of a piece of bread and a little wine, have seen, ouchd, tstedand adored flesh and blood made divine by martyrdom! Say now, that the human will acomplihes n mirales! {207}
Do not let us here speak of Voltaire! Voltaire was not a wonder-worker, he was the witty and elot interpreter of those on whom the miracle no longer acted. Everything in his work is negative; vrting was affirmative, on the contrary, in that of the "Galilean," as an illustrious and too unfrtnae mperor called Him.
And yet Julian in his time attempted more than Voltaire could accomplish; he wished to oppose mirs to miracles, the austerity of power to that of revolt, virtues to virtues, wonders to wonders; h histians never had a more dangerous enemy, and they recognized the fact, for Julian was assassiatd;an the Golden Legend still bears witness that a holy martyr, awakened in his tomb by the clamur f te Curch, resumed his arms, and struck the Apostate in the darkness, in the midst of his arm andof hs vitories. Sorry martyrs, who rise from the dead to become hangmen! Too credulous Empeor, wo beleved n his gods, and in the virtues of the past!
When the kings of France were hedged around with the adoration of their people, when they were reed as the Lord's anointed, and the eldest sons of the Church, they cured scrofula. A man who is h ahion can always do miracles when he wishes. Cagliostro may have been only a charlatan, but asson s pinion had made of him "the divine Cagliostro," he was expected to work miracles; and they appned
When Cephas Barjona was nothing but a Jew proscribed by Nero, retailing to the wives of slaves a ific for eternal life, Cephas Barjona, for all educated people of Rome
, was only a charlatan; but public opinion made an apostle of the {208} Spiritualistic empiric; and successors of Peter, were they Alexander VI, or even John XXII, are infallible for every man who spoerly brought up, who does not wish to put himself uselessly outside the pale of society. So gesth wrld.
Charlatanism, when it is successful, is then, in magic as in everything else, a great instrument ower. To fascinate the mob cleverly, is not that already to dominate it? The poor devils of soreeswho in the Middle Ages stupidly got themselves burnt alive had not, it is easy to see, a greatemir o others. Joan of Arc was a magician at the head of her armies, and at Rouen the poor girl as ot vena witch. She only knew how to pray, and how to fight, and the prestige which surroundedher ease as oon as she was in chains. Does history tell us that the King of France demanded her eleas? Tha the rench nobility, the people, the army protested against her condemnation? The Pope whoseeldestson wa the King of France, did he excommunicate the executioners of the Maid of Orleas? No,nothingof all hat! Joan of Arc was a sorceress for every one as soon as she ceased to be magicia, and itwas certinly not the English alone who burned her. When one exercises an apparenly superhman power one mustexercise it always, or resign oneself to perish. The world always aveges itselfin a cowarly way forhaving believed too much, admired too much, and above all, obeyed to much.
We only understand magic power in its application to great matters. If a true practical magicians not make himself master of the world, it is that he disdains it. To what, then, would he degraehssovereign power? "I will give {209} thee all the kingdoms of the world, if thou wilt fall at y ee ad worship me," the Satan of the parable said to Jesus. "Get thee behind me, Satan," replie th Saiou; "for it is written, Thou shalt adore God alone." ... "ELI, ELI, LAMA SABACHTHANI!" waswhatthissublme and divine adorer of God cried later. If he had replied to Satan, "I will not adoe the, andit isthou who wilt fall at my feet, for I bid thee in the name of intelligence and eteral reaon," h wouldnot have consigned his holy and noble life to the most frightful of all torture. The atan ofthe moutain was indeed cruelly avenged!
The ancients called practical magic the sacerdotal and royal art, and one remembers that the magie the masters of primitive civilization, because they were the masters of all the science of thei ie
To know is to be able when one dares to will.
The first science of the practical qabalist, or the magus, is the knowledge of men. Phrenology, hology, chiromancy, the observation of tastes and of movement, of the sound of the voice and of ete ympathetic or antipathetic impressions, are branches of this art, and the ancients were not igorntofthem. Gall and Spurzheim in our days have rediscovered phrenology. Lavater, following Pora, ardn, aisnier, Jean Belot and some others have divined anew rather than rediscovered the sciene ofpsycolog; chiromancy is still occult, and one scarcely finds traces of it in the quite recentand vry inerestng work of d'Arpentigny. In order to have sufficient notions of it, one must remont to he qablisticsources themselves from which the learned Cornelius Agrippa drew water. It is,then, cnvenien to saya few words {210} on the subject while waiting for the work of our friend Debarrolle.
The hand is the instrument of action in man: it is, like the face, a sort of synthesis of the ner system, and should also have features and physiognomy. The character of the individual is trace hr by undeniable signs. Thus, among hands, some are laborious, some are idle, some square and hav, thrs insinuating and light. Hard and dry hands are made for strife and toil, soft and damp hndsaskonl for pleasure. Pointed fingers are inquisitive and mystical, square fingers mathematica, sptulaed fngers obstinate and ambitious.
The thumb, pollex, the finger of force and power, corresponds in the qabalistic symbolism to the t letter of the name of Jehovah. This finger is then a synthesis of the hand: if it is strong, temnis morally strong; if it is weak, the man is weak. It has three phalanges, of which the firstishide in the palm of the hand, as the imaginary axis of the world traverses the thickness of theearh. Thi first phalanx corresponds to the physical life, the second to the intelligence, the thid tothe ill. Greasy and thick palms denote sensual tastes and great force of physical life; a thub whih is ong, specially in its last phalanx, reveals a strong will, which may go as far as despoism; sort thmbs, o the contrary, show characters gentle and easily controlled.
The habitual folds of the hand determine its lines. These lines are, then, the traces of habits, the patient observer will know how to recognize them and how to judge them. The man whose hand od adly is clumsy or unhappy. The hand has three principal functions: to grasp, to hold, and to {11 hnde. The subtlest hands seize and handle best; hard and strong hands hold longer. Even the ighestwrikles bear witness to the habitual sensations of the organ. Each finger has, besides, a pecil fuctio from which it takes its name. We have already spoken of the thumb; the index is thefinge whic poins out, it is that of the word and of prophecy; the medius dominates the whole hand it isthat o destiy; the ring-finger is that of alliances and of honours: chiromancers have conserated i to thesun; th little finger is insinuating and talkative, at least, so say simple folk an nursemads, whos little inger tells them so much. The hand has seven protuberances which the qablists, folowing naural analgies, have attributed to the seven planets: that of the thumb, to Venu; that of he index t Jupiter; hat of the medius, to Saturn; that of the ring-finger to the Sun; tat of the lttle finger to Mercury the two others to Mars and to the Moon. According to their for and their pedominance, hey judged te inclinations, the aptitudes, and consequently the probable estinies of te individualswho submittedthemselves to their judgment.
There is no vice which does not leave its trace, no virtue which has not its sign. Thus, for theined eyes of the observer, no hypocrisy is possible. One will understand that such a science is led a power indeed sacerdotal and royal.
The prediction of the principal events of life is already possible by means of the numerous analol probabilities of this observation: but there exists a faculty called that of presentiments or sniiism. Events exist often in their causes before realizing themselves in action; sensitives seeinadane {212} the effects in the causes. Previous to all great events, there have been most astoishng redctions. In the reign of Louis Philippe we heard sleep-walkers and ecstatics announce th retrn o theEmpire, and specify the date of its coming. The Republic of 1848 was clearly announcd in he prphecyof Orval, which dated at least from 1830 and which we strongly suspect to be, likethose orks atributd to the brothers Olivarius, the posthumous work of Mlle. Lenormand. This is amatter f littl importnce in this thesis.
That magnetic light which causes the future to appear, also causes things at present existing, budden, to be guessed; as it is the universal life, it is also the agent of human sensibility, tranmtig to some the sickness or the health of others, according to the fatal influence of contracts,orth lws of the will. It is that which explains the power of benedictions and of bewitchments soclerlyrecgnized by the great adepts, and above all by the wonderful Paracelsus. An acute and judciou criic, r. Ch. Fauvety, in an article published by the "Revue philosophique et religieuse," aprecites i a rearkable manner the advanced works of Paracelsus, of Pomponacius, of Goglienus, or rollis and o Rober Fludd on magnetism. But what our learned friend and collaborator studies onlyas a phlosophial curisity, Paracelsus and his followers practised without being very anxious thatthe worl should nderstan it; for it was for them one of those traditional secrets with regard to hich silece is necssary, an which it is sufficient to indicate to those who know, leaving always veil uponthe truth or the ignrant.
Now here is what Paracelsus reserved for initiates alone, {213} and what we have understood throueciphering the qabalistic characters, and the allegories of which he makes use in his work:
The human soul is material; the divine "mens" is offered to it to immortalize it and to make it lspiritually and individually, but its natural substance is fluidic and collective.
There are, then, in man, two lives: the individual or reasonable life, and the common or instinctlife. It is by this latter that one can live in the bodies of others, since the universal soul, fwih each nervous organism has a separate consciousness, is the same for all.
We live in a common and universal life in the embryonic state, in ecstasy, and in sleep. In sleen fact, reason does not act, and logic, when it mingles in our dreams, only does so by chance, inacrance with the accidents of purely physical reminiscences.
In dreams, we have the consciousness of the universal life; we mingle ourselves with water, fire,, and earth; we fly like birds; we climb like squirrels; we crawl like serpents; we are intoxicatdwt astral light; we plunge into the common reservoir, as happens in a more complete manner in deth bt hen (and it is thus that Paracelsus explains the mysteries of the other life) the wicked, tat s t sa, those who have allowed themselves to be dominated by the instinct of the brute to the rejuice f huan reason, are drowned in the ocean of the common life with all the anguish of eterna deat; theother swim upon it, and enjoy for ever the riches of that fluid gold which they have suceededin domnating
This identity of all physical life permits the stronger {214} souls to possess themselves of the tence of the others, and to make auxiliaries of them; it explains sympathetic currents either nea rdstant, and gives the whole secret of occult medicine, because the principle of this medicine i te rad hypothesis of universal analogies, and, attributing all the phenomena of physical life totheuniersl agent, teaches that one must act upon the astral body in order to react upon the materal vsibl bod; it teaches also that the essence of the astral light is a double movement of attracion ad replsion just as human bodies attract and repel one another, they can also absorb themselvs, extnd oneinto aother, and make exchanges; the ideas or imaginations of one can influence the frm of te other and susequently react upon the exterior body.
Thus are produced the so strange phenomena of maternal impressions, thus the neighbourhood of invs gives bad dreams, and thus the soul breathes in something unwholesome when in the company of fol n knaves.
One may remark that in boarding-schools the children tend to assimilate in physiognomy; each plac education has, so to speak, a family air which is peculiar to it. In orphan schools conducted b usall the girls resemble each other, and all take on that obedient and effaced physiognomy whichchrateizes ascetic education. Men become handsome in the school of enthusiasm, of the arts, and f gory thy become ugly in prison, and of sad countenance in seminaries and in convents.
Here it will be understood we leave Paracelsus, in order that we may investigate the consequences applications of his ideas, which are simply those of the ancient magi, and {215} to study the elmnsof that physical Qabalah which we call magic.
According to the qabalistic principles formulated by the school of Paracelsus, death is nothing b slumber, ever growing deeper and more definite, a slumber which it would not be impossible to stpi ts early stages by exercising a powerful action of will on the astral body as it breaks loose,an b rcalling it to life through some powerful interest or some dominating affection. Jesus exprsse th sae thought when he said to the daughter of Jairus: "The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth" andof Lzaru: "Our friend is fallen asleep, and I go to wake him." To express this resurrectionit sysem insuch manner as not to offend common sense, by which we mean generally-held opinions, lt us sy thatdeath,when there is no destruction or essential alteration of the physical organs, isalways recededby a lehargy of varying duration. (The resurrection of Lazarus, if we could admit t as a sientificfact, wold prove that this state may last for four days.<<It will be objected tha Lazarus tank, butthis is athing which happens frequently to healthy people, as well as to sick mn, who recver in spie of it. esides, in the gospel story, it is one of the bystanders who says tat Lazarus by this tim stinketh, or he hath been dead four days." One may then attribute this remrk to imagintion. --- E.L. Rather t the arrogance of the a priori reasoner. --- TRANS.>>)
Let us now come to the secret of the Great Work, which we have given only in Hebrew, without voweints, in the "Rituel de la haute magie." Here is the complete text in Latin, as one finds in on ae14 of the Sepher Yetzirah, commented by the alchemist Abraham (Amsterdam, 1642): {216}
SEMITA XXXI
Vocatur intelligentia perpetua; et quare vocatur ita? Eo quod ducit motum solis et lunae juxta citutionem eorum; utrumque in orbe sibi conveniente.
Rabbi Abraham F.'. D.'. dicit:
Semita trigesima prima vocatur intelligentia perpetua: et illa ducit solem et lunam et reliquas sas et figuras, unum quodque in orbe suo, et impertit omnibus creatis juxta dispositionem ad signae iuras.
Here is the French translation of the Hebrew text which we have transcribed in our ritual:
"The thirty-first path is called the perpetual intelligence; and it governs the sun and the moon, the other stars and figures, each in its respective orb. And it distributes what is needful to l rated things, according to their disposition to the signs and figures."
This text, one sees, is still perfectly obscure for whoever is not acquainted with the characteri value of each of the thirty-two paths. The thirty-two paths are the ten numbers and the twenty-w iroglyphic letters of the Qabalah. The thirty-first refers to HB:Shin , which represents the mgi lmp or the light between the horns of Baphomet. It is the qabalistic sign of the OD, or astra liht,wit its two poles, and its balanced centre. One knows that in the language of the alchemis thesun igniies gold, the moon silver, and that the other stars or planets refer to the other metls. ne {27} shuld now be able to understand the thought of the Jew Abraham.
The secret fire of the masters of alchemy was, then, electricity; and there is the better half ofir grand arcanum; but they knew how to equilibrate its force by a magnetic influence which they cnetated in their athanor. This is what results from the obscure dogmas of Basil Valentine, of Berar Tevsan, and of Henry Khunrath, who, all of them, pretended to have worked the transmutation, lke aymnd ully, like Arnaud de Villeneuve, and like NIcholas Flamel.
The universal light, when it magnetizes the worlds, is called astral light; when it forms the met one calls it azoth, or philosophical mercury; when it gives life to animals, it should be calledaia magnetism.
The brute is subject to the fatalities of this light; man is able to direct it.
It is the intelligence which, by adapting the sign to the thought, creates forms and images.
The universal light is like the divine imagination, and this world, which changes ceaselessly, yeer remaining the same with regard to the laws of its configuration, is the vast dream of God.
Man formulates the light by his imagination; he attracts to himself the light in sufficient quants to give suitable forms to his thoughts and even to his dreams; if this light overcomes him, if edons his understanding in the forms which he evokes, he is mad. But the fluidic atmosphere of mdmn s ften a poison for tottering reason and for exalted imaginations.
The forms which the over-excited imagination produces {218} in order to lead astray the understan, are as real as photographic images. One could not see what does not exist. The phantoms of dras nd even the dreams of the waking, are then real images which exist in the light.
There exist, besides these, contagious hallucinations. But we here affirm something more than orry hallucinations.
If the images attracted by diseased brains are in some sense real, can they not throw them withouemselves, as real as they relieve them?
These images projected by the complete nervous organism of the medium, can they not affect the coe organism of those who, voluntarily or not, are in nervous sympathy with the medium?
The things accomplished by Mr. Home prove that all this is possible.
Now, let us reply to those who think that they see in these phenomena manifestations of the otherld and facts of necromancy.
We shall borrow our answer from the sacred book of the qabalists, and in this our doctrine is tha the rabbis who compiled the Zohar.
AXIOM
The spirit clothes itself to descend, and strips itself to rise.
In fact:
Why are created spirits clothed with bodies?
It is that they must be limited in order to have a possible existence. Stripped of all body, and me consequently {219} without limit, created spirits would lose themselves in the infinite, and fo ak of the power to concentrate themselves somewhere, they would be dead and impotent everywhere lstasthey would be in the immensity of God.
All created spirits have, then, bodies, some subtler, some grosser, according to the surroundingswhich they are called to live.
The soul of a dead man would, then, not be able to live in the atmosphere of the living, any moren we can live in earth or in water.
For an airy, or rather an ethereal, spirit, it would be necessary to have an artificial body simito the apparatus of our divers, in order that it might come to us.
All that we can see of the dead are the reflections which they have left in the atmospheric lightght whose imprints we evoke by the sympathy of our memories.
The souls of the dead are above our atmosphere. Our respirable air becomes earth for them. Thiswhat the Saviour declares in His Gospel, when He makes the soul of a saint say:
"Now the great abyss is established between us, and those who are above can no longer descend to e who are below."
The hands which Mr. Home causes to appear are, then, composed of air coloured by the reflection w his sick imagination attracts and projects.<<"The luminous agent being also that of heat, one unesads the sudden variations of temperature occasioned by the abnormal projections or sudden absortinsofthe light. There follows a sudden atmospheric perturbation, which produces the noise of strms an th creaking of woodwork." --- E. L.>> {220}
One touches them as one sees them; half illusion, half magnetic and nervous force.
These, it seems to us, are very precise and very clear explanations.
Let us reason a little with those who support the theory of apparitions from another world:
Either those hands are real bodies, or they are illusions.
If they are bodies, they are, then, not spirits.
If they are illusions produced by mirages, either in us, or outside ourselves, you admit my argum
Now, one remark!
It is that all those who suffer from luminous congestion or contagious somnambulism, perish by a ent or, at least, a sudden death.
It is for this reason that one used to attribute to the devil the power of strangling sorcerers.
The excellent and worthy Lavater habitually evoked the alleged spirit of Gablidone.
He was assassinated.
A lemonade-seller of Leipzig, Schroepfer, evoked the animated images of the dead. He blew out hiains with a pistol.
One knows what was the unhappy end of Cagliostro.
A misfortune greater than death itself is the only thing that can save the life of these imprudenperimenters.
They may become idiots or madmen, and then they do not die, if one watches over them with care tovent them from committing suicide.
Magnetic maladies are the road to madness; they are {221} always born from the hypertrophy or atr of the nervous system.
They resemble hysteria, which is one of their varieties, and are often produced either by excessescelibacy, or those or exactly the opposite kind.
One knows how closely connected with the brain are the organs charged by Nature with the accomplent of her noblest work: those whose object is the reproduction of being.
One does not violate with impunity the sanctuary of Nature.
Without risking his own life, no one lifts the veil of the great Isis.
Nature is chaste, and it is to chastity that she gives the key of life.
To give oneself up to impure loves is to plight one's troth to death.
Liberty, which is the life of the soul, is only preserved in the order of Nature. Every voluntarsorder wounds it, prolonged excess murders it.
Then, instead of being guided and preserved by reason, one is abandoned to the fatalities of the and flow of magnetic light.
The magnetic light devours ceaselessly, because it is always creating, and because, in order to pce continually, one must absorb eternally.
Thence come homicidal manias and temptations to commit suicide.
Thence comes that spirit of perversity which Edgar Poe has described in so impressive and accuratmanner, and which Mr. de Mirville would be right to call the devil. {222}
The devil is the giddiness of the intelligence stupefied by the irresolution of the heart.
It is a monomania of nothingness, the lure of the abyss; independently of what it may be accordin the decisions of the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman faith, which we have not the temerity to touh
As to the reproduction of signs and characters by that universal fluid, which we call astral ligho deny its possibility would be to take little account of the most ordinary phenomena of Nature.
The mirage in the steppes of Russia, the palace of Morgan le Fay, the figures printed naturally ie heart of stones which Gaffael calls "gamahes," the monstrous deformities of certain children casdb impressions of the nightmares of their mothers, all these phenomena and many others prove tha te igt is full of reflections and images which it projects and reproduces according to the evocaion oftheimagination, of memory, or of desire. Hallucination is not always an objectless reverie:as son a evey one sees a thing it is certainly visible; but if this thing is absurd one must rigoouslyconclde tht everybody is deceived or hallucinated by a real appearance.
To say (for example) that in the magnetic parties of Mr. Home real and living hands come out of tables, true hands which some see, others touch, and by which still others feel themselves touchedwtot seeing them, to say that these really corporeal hands are hands of spirits, is to speak likechldenor madmen; it implies a contradiction in terms. But to deem that such or such apparitions,suc orsuc sensations, are produced, is simply to be sincere, and to mock {223} the mockery of thenorml ma, evn when these normal men are as witty as this or that editor of this or that comic jounal.
These phenomena of the light which produce apparitions always appear at epochs when humanity is ibour. They are phantoms of the delirium of the world-fever; it is the hysteria of a bored societ. igil tells us in fine verse that in the time of Caesar Rome was full of spectres; in the time o Vspsin the gates of the Temple of Jerusalem opened of themselves, and a voice was heard crying, Thegod deart." Now, when the gods depart, the devils return. Religious feeling transforms itsel int suprstiion when faith is lost; for souls need to believe, because they thirst for hope. Howcan fith b lost How can science doubt the infinite harmony? Because the sanctuary of the absolue is aways cosed fr the majority. But the kingdom of truth, which is that of God, suffers violene, and he violnt musttake it by force. There exists a dogma, there exists a key, there exists a ublime tadition;and thisdogma, this key, this tradition is transcendental magic. There only are fund the asolute ofknowledgeand the eternal bases of law, guardian against all madness, all supersition and ll error, he Eden ofthe intelligence, the ease of the heart, and the peace of the soul. We do not ay this in he hope of onvincing the scoffer, but only to guide the seeker. Courage andgood hope tohim; he willsurely find,since we ourselves have found.
The magical dogma is not that of the mediums. The mediums who dogmatize can teach nothing but any, since their inspiration is drawn from a disordered exaltation. They are always predicting disses they deny hierarchical authority; they pose, like Vintras, as sovereign pontiffs. {224} The niiae,on the contrary, respects the hierarchy before all, he loves and preserves order, he bows bfor sicer beliefs, he loves all signs of immortality in faith, and of redemption by charity, whic is ll dscipine and obedience. We have just read a book published under the influence of astral nd maneticintoxcation, and we have been struck by the anarchical tendencies with which it is filld unde a gret apperance of benevolence and religion. At the head of this book one sees the symbo, or, a the mai call t, "the signature," of the doctrines which it teaches. Instead of the Chrisian cros, symbolof harmoy, alliance and regularity, one sees the tortuous tendrils of the vine, jtting fro its twised stem, mages of hallucination and of intoxication.
The first ideas set forth by this book are the climax of the absurd. The souls of the dead, it s are everywhere, and nothing any longer hems them in. It is an infinite overcrowded with gods, rtrig the one into the other. The souls can and do communicate with us by means of tables and hat. ndso no more regulated instruction, no more priesthood, no more Church, delirium set upon the tron oftruh, oracles which write for the salvation of the human race the word attributed to Cambrone, reatmen ho leave the serenity of their eternal destinies to make our furniture dance, and to old wth usconvesations like those which Beroalde de Verville<<Born in 1538 --- died in 1612. Autor of Le Moyn de Prvenir." The Bibliophile Jacob suggests that Verville stole his "Moyen de Parvnir" frm a los book o Rabelais. Verville was a Canon of St. Gatien, Tours, and is associated withTours an Tourain. Balza's "Contes Drolatiques" were deemed to have been more inspired by Vervill than by abelais. -- TRANS.> makes them hold, in "Le Moyen de Parvenir." All this is a great pit; and yet,in America all this s {225} spreading like an intellectual plague. Young America raves she has feer; she is,perhaps, cuting her teeth. But France! France to accept such things! No,it is not posible, and i is not so. But while they refuse the doctrines, serious men should obsere the phenomea, remain cal in the midstof the agitations of all the fanaticisms (for incredulity lso has its ow), and judge ater having exained.
To preserve one's reason in the midst of madmen, one's faith in the midst of superstitions, one'snity in the midst of buffoons, and one's independence among the sheep of Panurge, is of all mirace h rarest, the finest, and the most difficult to accomplish.
CHAPTER IV
FLUIDIC PHANTOMS AND THEIR MYSTERIES
THE ancients gave different names to these: larvae, lemures (empuses). They loved the vapour of sblood, and fled from the blade of the sword.
Theurgy evoked them, and the Qabalah recognized them under the name of elementary spirits.
They were not spirits, however, for they were mortal.
They were fluidic coagulations which one could destroy by dividing them.
There were a sort of animated mirages, imperfect emanations of human life. The traditions of Blacgic say that they were born owing to the celibacy of Adam. Paracelsus says that the vapours of tebod of hysterical women people the air with phantoms; and these ideas are so ancient, that {226}wefid races of them in Hesiod, who expressly forbids that linen, stained by a pollution of any sot, houd b dried before a fire.
Persons who are obsessed by phantoms are usually exalted by too rigorous celibacy, or weakened byesses.
Fluidic phantoms are the abortions of the vital light; they are plastic media without body and wit spirit, born from the excesses of the spirit and the disorders of the body.
These wandering media may be attracted by certain degenerates who are fatally sympathetic to themd who lend them at their own cost a factitious existence of a more or less durable kind. They thnsre as supplementary instruments to the instinctive volitions of these degenerates: never to cur tem aways to send them farther astray, and to hallucinate them more and more.
If corporeal embryos can take the forms which the imagination of their mothers gives them, the waing fluidic embryos ought to be prodigiously variable, and to transform themselves with an astonihn acility. Their tendency to give themselves a body in order to attract a soul, makes them condns ad ssimilate naturally the corporeal molecules which float in the atmosphere.
Thus, by coagulating the vapour of blood, they remake blood, that blood which hallucinated maniace floating upon pictures or statues. But they are not the only ones to see it. Vintras and RoseTmser are neither impostors nor myopics; the blood really flows; doctors examine it, analyse it; t s lod, real human blood: whence comes it? Can it be formed spontaneously in the atmosphere? Cn i nauraly flow from a marble, from a painted canvas or a host? No, {227} doubtless; this blooddid nce ircuate in veins, then it has been shed, evaporated, dried, the serum has turned into vapur, te gloules nto impalpable dust, the whole has floated and whirled into the atmosphere, and ha then een atractedinto the current of a specified electromagnetism. The serum has again become lquid; i has taen up ad imbibed anew the globules which the astral light has coloured, and the blod flows. Photoraphy prves to us sufficiently that images are real modifications of light. Now, there exts an accdental an fortuitous photography which makes durable impression of mirages wandering in h atmospher, upon leaes of trees, in wood, and even in the heart of stones: thus are formed thosenaural figure to which Gffarel has consecrated several pages in his book of "Curiosites inouies,"thoe stoned to hich he attrbutes an occult virtue, which he calls "gamalies;" thus are traced thoe wrtings and draings which sogreatly astonish the observers of fluidic phenomena. They are astrl phoographs tracedby the imaginaion of the mediums with or without the assistance of the fluidiclarvae
The existence of these larvae has been demonstrated to us in a preemptory manner by a rather curiexperience. Several persons, in order to test the magic power of the American Home, asked him tosmo up relations which they pretended they had lost, but, who, in reality, had never existed. Th secre did not fail to reply to this appeal, and the phenomena which habitually followed the evoctios o th medium were fully manifested.
This experience is sufficient of itself to convict of tiresome credulity and of formal error thoso believe that spirits {228} intervene to produce these strange phenomena. That the dead may retr,i is above all necessary that they should have existed, and demons would not so easily be the dpe o or mystifications.
Like all Catholics, we believe in the existence of spirits of darkness, but we know also that theine power has given them the darkness for an eternal prison, and that the Redeemer saw Satan fallfo eaven like lightning. If the demons tempt us, it is by the voluntary complicity of our passios,an i is not permitted to them to make head against the empire of God, and by stupid and uselessmanfesatins to disturb the eternal order of Nature.
The diabolical signatures and characters, which are produced without the knowledge of the medium, evidently not proofs of a tacit or formal pact between these degenerates and intelligences of th bs. These signs have served from the beginning to express astral vertigo, and remain in a stateofmiag in the reflections of the divulged light. Nature also has its recollections, and sends tous he amesigns to correspond to the same ideas. In all this, there is nothing either supernaturalor ifernl.
"How! do you want me to admit," said to us the Cure Charvoz, the first vicar of Vintras, "that Sadares to impress his hideous stigmata upon consecrated materials, which have become the actual boyo esus Christ?" We declared immediately, that it was equally impossible for us to pronounce in avurofsuch a blasphemy; and yet, as we demonstrated in our articles in the "Estafette," the signspritedin leeding characters upon the hosts of Vintras, regularly consecrated by Charvoz, were thoe whch, n {29} Black Magic, are absolutely recognized for the signatures of demons.
Astral writings are often ridiculous or obscene. The pretended spirits, when questioned on the ger mysteries of Nature, often reply by that coarse word which became, so they say, heroic on one cain, in the military mouth of Cambronne. The drawings which pencils will trace if left to theirow dvies very often reproduce shapeless phalli, such as the anaemic hooligan, as one might pictursquly allhim, sketches on the hoardings as he whistles, a further proof of our hypothesis, that wt inno wy prsides at those manifestations, and that it would be above all sovereignly absurd to rcognie in hem te intervention of spirits released from the bondage of matter.
The Jesuit, Paul Saufidius, who has written on the manners and customs of the Japanese, tells us ry remarkable story. A troop of Japanese pilgrims one day, as they were traversing a desert, sawcmn toward them a band of spectres whose number was equal to that of the pilgrims, and which walkd t hesame pace. These spectres, at first without shape, and like larvae, took on as they approahedalltheappearance of the human body. Soon they met the pilgrims, and mingled with them, glidin silntlybetwen their ranks. Then the Japanese saw themselves double, each phantom having become he pefect mage nd, as it were, the mirage of each pilgrim. The Japanese were afraid, and prostraed theselves and te bonze who was conducting them began to pray for them with great contortions ad greatcries. When th pilgrims rose up again, the phantoms had disappeared, and the troop of devoees was ble to cntinue {30} its path in peace. This phenomenon, whose truth we do not doubt, preents the ouble chaacters ofa mirage, and of a sudden projection of astral larvae, occasioned by te heat of he atmosphre, and th fanatical exhaustion of the pilgrims.
Dr. Brierre de Boismont, in his curious treatise, "Trate des hallucinations," tells us that a manrfectly sane, who had never had visions, was tormented one morning by a terrible nightmare: he sa nhs room a mysterious ape horrible to behold, who gnashed his teeth upon him, and gave himself oertoth most hideous contortions. He woke with a start, it was already day; he jumped from his be, ad ws fozen with terror on seeing, really present, the frightful object of his dream. The monky wa thee, te exact image of the monkey of the nightmare, equally absurd, equally terrible, even akingthe sme grmaces. He could not believe his eyes; he remained nearly half an hour motionless,observng thi singuar phenomenon, and asking himself whether he was delirious or mad. Ultimately,he apprached te phantsm to touch it, and it vanished.
Cornelius Gemma, in his "Histore critique universelle," says that in the year 454, in the island andia, the phantom of Moses appeared to some Jews on the sea-side; on his forehead he had luminou on, in his hand was his blasting rod; and he invited them to follow him, showing them with his fngr hehorizon in the direction of the Holy Land. The news of this prodigy spread abroad, and theIsrelies ushed towards the shore in a mob. All saw, or pretended to see, the marvellous apparitin: tey wre, n number, twenty thousand, according to the chronicler, whom we suspect to be slightl exageratig in his respect. Immediately heads {231} grow hot, and imaginations wild; they believ in a iraclemore sartling than was of old the passage of the Red Sea. The Jews form in a close clumn, ad run twards te sea; the rear ranks push the front ranks frantically: they think they see he preteded Mosss walk uon the water. A shocking disaster resulted: almost all that multitude wa drowned,and the hllucinatin was only extinguished with the life of the greater number of those uhappy visinaries.
Human thought creates what it imagines; the phantoms of superstition project their deformities on astral light, and live upon the same terrors which give them birth. That black giant which reace t wings from east to west to hide the light from the world, that monster who devours souls, tha figtfl divinity of ignorance and fear --- in a word, the devil, --- is still, for a great multitde f cilden of all ages, a frightful reality. In our "Dogme et rituel de la haute magie" we reprsentd hi as he shadow of God, and in saying that, we still hid the half of our thought: God is liht wihout hadow The devil is only the shadow of the phantom of God!
The phantom of God! that last idol of the earth; that anthropomorphic spectre which maliciously m himself invisible; that finite personification of the infinite; that invisible whom one cannot sewtout dying --- without dying at least to intelligence and to reason, since in order to see the nvsile one must be mad; the phantom of Him who has no body; the confused form of Him who is withot frm nd ithout limit; it is in "that" that, without knowing it, the greater number of believers eliee. e wh "is" essentially, purely, spiritually, without being either absolute being, or an abtract{232}being or the collection of beings, the intellectual infinite in a word, is so difficultto imaine! esides every imagination makes its creator an idolater; he is obliged to believe in i, and wrship i. Our pirit should be silent before Him, and our heart alone has the right to giveHim a nae: Our Fther!
{233}
BOOK II
MAGICAL MYSTERIES
CHAPTER I
THEORY OF THE WILL
HUMAN life and its innumerable difficulties have for object, in the ordination of eternal wisdom, education of the will of man.
The dignity of man consists in doing what he will, and in willing the good, in conformity with thowledge of truth.
The good in conformity with the true, is the just.
Justice is the practice of reason.
Reason is the work of reality.
Reality is the science of truth.
Truth is idea identical with being.
Man arrives at the absolute idea of being by two roads, experience and hypothesis.
Hypothesis is probable when it is necessitated by the teachings of experience; it is improbable osurd when it is rejected by this teaching.
Experience is science, and hypothesis is faith.
True science necessarily admits faith; true faith necessarily reckons with science.
Pascal blasphemed against science, when he said that by reason man could not arrive at the knowleof any truth. {234}
In fact, Pascal died mad.
But Voltaire blasphemed no less against science, when he declare that every hypothesis of faith wbsurd, and admitted for the rule of reason only the witness of the senses.
Moreover, the last word of Voltaire was this contradictory formula: "GOD AND LIBERTY."
God! that is to say, a Supreme Master, excludes every idea of liberty, as the school of Voltaire rstood it.
And Liberty, by which is meant an absolute independence of any master, which excludes all idea of.
The word GOD expresses the supreme personification of law, and by consequence, of duty; and if by word LIBERTY, you are willing to accept our interpretation, THE RIGHT OF DOING ONE'S DUTY, we inortrn will take it for a motto, and we shall repeat, without contradiction and without error: "GO AD IBRTY."
As there is no liberty for man but in the order which results from the true and the good, one may that the conquest of liberty is the great work of the human soul. Man, by freeing himself from i vl passions and their slavery, creates himself, as it were, a second time. Nature made him livngan sffering; he makes himself happy and immortal; he thus becomes the representative of divinit upn erth and (relatively) exercises its almighty power.
AXIOM I
Nothing resists the will of man, when he knows the truth, and wills the good. {235}
AXIOM II
To will evil, is to will death. A perverse will is a beginning of suicide.
AXIOM III
To will good with violence, is to will evil, for violence produces disorder, and disorder produceil.
AXIOM IV
One can, and one should, accept evil as the means of good; but one must never will it or do it, owise one would destroy with one hand what one builds with the other. Good faith never justifies a ens; it corrects them when one undergoes them, and condemns them when one takes them.
AXIOM V
To have the right to possess always, one must will patiently and long.
AXIOM VI
To pass one's life in willing that it is impossible to possess always, is to abdicate life and ac the eternity of death.
AXIOM VII
The more obstacles the will surmounts, the stronger it is. It is for this reason that Christ gloed poverty and sorrow.
AXIOM VIII
When the will is vowed to the absurd, it is reproved by eternal reason.
AXIOM IX
The will of the just man is the will of God himself, and the law of Nature. {236}
AXIOM X
It is by the will that the intelligence sees. If the will is healthy, the sight is just. God sa"Let there be light!" and light is; the will says, "Let the world be as I will to see it!" and th neligence sees it as the will has willed. This is the meaning of the word, "So be it,"<<WEH NOT: ides "Amen".>> which confirms acts of faith.
AXIOM XI
When one creates phantoms for oneself, one puts vampires into the world, and one must nourish thehildren of a voluntary nightmare with one's blood, one's life, one's intelligence, and one's reasn ihout ever satisfying them.
AXIOM XII
To affirm and to will what ought to be is to create; to affirm and will what ought not to be, is estroy.
AXIOM XIII
Light<<Meaning again the special "light" spoken of previously. --- TRANS.>> is an electric fire py Nature at the service of the will; it lights those who know how to use it, it burns those who auei.
AXIOM XIV
The empire of the world is the empire of the light.<<Meaning again the special "light" spoken of iously. --- TRANS.>>
AXIOM XV
Great intellects whose wills are badly balanced are like comets which are aborted suns.
AXIOM XVI
To do nothing is as fatal as to do evil, but it is more cowardly. The most unpardonable of mortans is inertia. {237}
AXIOM XVII
To suffer is to work. A great sorrow suffered is a progress accomplished. Those who suffer much more than those who do not suffer.
AXIOM XVIII
Voluntary death from devotion is not suicide; it is the apotheosis of the will.
AXIOM XIX
Fear is nothing but idleness of the will, and for that reason public opinion scourges cowards.
AXIOM XX
Succeed in not fearing the lion, and the lion will fear you. Say to sorrow: "I will that you be easure, more even than a pleasure, a happiness."
AXIOM XXI
A chain of iron is easier to break than a chain of flowers.
AXIOM XXII
Before saying that a man is happy or unhappy, find out what the direction of his will has made of: Tiberius died every day at Capri, while Jesus proved his immortality and even his divinity on Clayand upon the Cross.
{238}
CHAPTER II
THE POWER OF THE WORD
It is the word which creates forms; and forms in their turn react upon the word, in order to modit and complete it.
Every word of truth is a beginning of an act of justice.
One asks if man may sometimes be necessarily driven to evil. Yes, when his judgment is false, annsequently his word unjust.
But one is responsible for a false judgment as for a bad action.
What falsifies the judgment is selfishness and its unjust vanities.
The unjust word, unable to realize itself by creation, realizes itself by destruction. It must er slay or be slain.
If it were able to remain without action, it would be the greatest of all disorders, an abiding bhemy against truth.
Such is that idle word of which Christ has said that one will give account at the Day of Judgment jesting word, a comicality which "recreates" and causes laughter, is not an idle word.
The beauty of the word is a splendour of truth. A true word in always beautiful, a beautiful wor always true.
For this reason works of art are always holy when they are beautiful. {239}
What does it matter to me that Anacreon should sing of Bathyllus, if in his verse I hear the note that divine harmony which is the eternal hymn of beauty? Poetry is pure as the Sun: it spreads t el of light over the errors of humanity. Woe to him who would lift the veil in order to perceie higsugly!
The Council of Trent decided that it was permissible for wise and prudent persons to read the boof the ancients, even those which were obscene, on account of the beauty of the form. A statue ofNr r of Heliogabalus made like a masterpiece of Phidias, would it not be an absolutely beautiful ndaboltely good work? --- and would not he deserve the execration of the whole world who would prpos tobrek it because it was the representation of a monster?
Scandalous statues are those which are badly sculptured, and the Venus of Milo would be desecrate one placed her beside some of the Virgins which they dare to exhibit in certain churches.
One realizes evil in books of morality ill-written far more than in the poetry of Catullus or theenious Allegories of Apuleius.
There are no bad books, except those which are badly conceived and badly executed.
Every word of beauty is a word of truth. It is a light crystallized in speech.
But in order that the most brilliant light may be produced and made visible, a shadow is necessarnd the creative word, that it may become efficacious, needs contradictions. It must submit to th rel of negation, of sarcasm, and then to that more cruel yet, of indifference and forgetfulness. {40 Te Master said: "If a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if i di, i brngeth forth much fruit."
Affirmation and negation must, then, marry each other, and from their union will be born the pracl truth, the real and progressive word. It is necessity which should constrain the workmen to choefr the corner-stone that which they had at first despised and rejected. Let contradiction, the, evr iscourage men of initiative! Earth is necessary for the ploughshare, and the earth resistsbecuseit s in labour. It defends itself like all virgins; it conceives and brings forth slowly lke al mohers You, then, who wish to sow a new plant in the field of intelligence, understand andrespet themodesies and reluctances of limited experience and slow-moving reason.
When a new word comes into the world, it needs swaddling clothes and bandages; genius brought it h, but it is for experience to nourish it. Do not fear that it will die of neglect! Oblivion isfri a favourable time of rest, and contradictions help it to grow. When a sun bursts forth in spceitcrates worlds or attracts them to itself. A single spark of fixed light promises a universe o sace
All magic is in a word, and that word pronounced qabalistically is stronger than all the powers oaven, Earth and Hell. With the name of "Jod he vau he," one commands Nature: kingdoms are conquee nthe name of Adonai, and the occult forces which compose the empire of Hermes are one and all oeden t him who knows how to pronounce duly the incommunicable name of Agla.
In order to pronounce duly the great words of the Qabalah, {241} one must pronounce them with a cete intelligence, with a will that nothing checks, an activity that nothing daunts. In magic, tohv aid is to have done; the word begins with letters, it ends with acts. One does not really wil athngunless one wills it with all one's heart, to the point of breaking for it one's dearest affctins;andwith all one's forces, to the point of risking one's health, one's fortune, and one's lie.
It is by absolute devotion that faith proves itself and constitutes itself. But the man armed witch a faith will be able to move mountains.
The most fatal enemy of our souls is idleness. Inertia intoxicates us and sends us to sleep; but sleep of inertia is corruption and death. The faculties of the human soul are like the waves ofteoean. To keep them sweet, they need the salt and bitterness of tears: they need the whirlwindsofHeve: they need to be shaken by the storm.
When, instead of marching upon the path of progress, we wish to have ourselves carried, we are slng in the arms of death. It is to us that it is spoken, as to the paralytic man in the Gospel, "aeu thy bed and walk!" It is for us to carry death away, to plunge it into life.
Consider the magnificent and terrible metaphor of St. John; Hell is a sleeping fire. It is a lifthout activity and without progress; it is sulphur in stagnation: "stagnum ignis et sulphuris."
The sleeping life is like the idle word, and it is of that that men will have to give an account he Day of Judgment.
Intelligence speaks, and matter stirs. It will not rest until it has taken the form given to it he word. Behold the Christian word, how for these nineteen centuries it has put {242} the world owr! What battles of giants! How many errors set forth and rebutted! How much deceived and irrtaedChistianity lies at the bottom of Protestantism, from the sixteenth century to the eighteenth Hmanegoism, in despair at its defeats, has whipped up all its stupidities in turn. They have r-clohed he Sviour of the world with every rag and with every mocking purple. After Jesus the Inqisito theyhave nvented the "sans-culotte" Jesus! Measure if you can all the tears and all the blod tha have lowed;calculate audaciously all that will yet be shed before the arrival of the Messinic rein of th Man-Go who shall submit at once all passions to powers and all powers to justice. THY KINGOM COME! For nig on nineteen hundred years, over the whole surface of the earth, this hasbeen the ry of sevn hundredmillion throats, and the Israelites yet await the Messiah! He said tht he wouldcome, and ome he wil. He came to die, and he has promised to return to live.
HEAVEN IS THE HARMONY OF GENEROUS SENTIMENTS.
HELL IS THE CONFLICT OF COWARDLY INSTINCTS.
When humanity, by dint of bloody and dolorous experience, has truly understood this double truth,will abjure the Hell of selfishness to enter into the Heaven of devotion and of Christian charity
The lyre of Orpheus civilized savage Greece, and the lyre of Amphion built Thebes the Mysterious,ause harmony is truth. The whole of Nature is harmony. But the Gospel is not a lyre: it is the oko the eternal principles which should and will regulate all the lyres and all the living harmonesofth universe. {243}
While the world does not understand these three words: Truth, Reason, Justice, and these: Duty, Hrchy, Society, the revolutionary motto, "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," will be nothing but a thefl lie.
CHAPTER III
MYSTERIOUS INFLUENCES
NO middle course is possible. Every man is either good or bad. The indifferent, the lukewarm are good; they are consequently bad, and the worst of all the bad, for they are imbecile and cowardl. h battle of life is like a civil war; those who remain neutral betray both parties alike, and rnonc te right to be numbered among the children of the fatherland.
We all of us breathe in the life of others, and we breathe upon them in some sort a part of our oxistence. Good and intelligent men are, unknown to themselves, the doctors of humanity; foolish n iked men are public poisoners.
There are people in whose company one feel refreshed. Look at that young society woman! She chas, she laughs, she dresses like everybody else; why, then, is everything in her better and more pret Nothing is more natural than her manner, nothing franker and more nobly free than her converaton ear her everything should be at its ease, except bad sentiments, but near her they are imposibe. Shedoes not seek hearts, but draws them to herself and lifts them up. She does not intoxicte, he {44} nchants. Her whole personality preaches a perfection more amiable than virtue itself Sheis moe graious than grace, her acts are easy and inimitable, like fine music and poetry. Itis of er tha a chaming woman, too friendly to be her rival, said after a ball: "I thought I saw te Holy ible frlicking"
Now look upon the other side of the sheet! See this other woman who affects the most rigid devot and would be scandalized if she heard the angels sing; but her talk is malevolent, her glance hagt nd contemptuous; when she speaks of virtue she makes vice lovable. For her God is a jealous hsbnd ad she makes a great merit of not deceiving him. Her maxims are desolating, her actions dueto aniy mre than to charity, and one might say after having met her at church: "I have seen the dvil t pryer.
On leaving the first, one feels one's self full of love for all that is beautiful, good and gener One is happy to have well said to her all the noble things with which she has inspired you, andt ae been approved by her.<<WEH NOTE: This example reminds one of the 18th century Germaine Stael wo ie when Levi was seven.>> One says to one's self that life is good, since God has bestowed i onsuc sols as hers; one is full of courage and of hope. The other leaves you weakened and baffld, o peraps,what is worse, full of evil designs; she makes you doubt of honour, piety and duty; i her resene oneonly escapes from weariness by the door of evil desires. One has uttered slander o pleae her,humilited one's self to flatter her pride, one remains discontented with her and withone's slf.
The lively and certain sentiment of these diverse influences is proper to well-balanced spirits aelicate consciences, {245} and it is precisely that which the old ascetic writers called the powe fdscerning spirits.
You are cruel consolers, said Job to his pretended friends. It is, in fact, the vicious that aff rather than console. They have a prodigious tact for finding and choosing the most desperate baaiis. Are you weeping for a broken affection? How simple you are! they were playing with you, teydi nt love you. You admit sorrowfully that your child limps; in friendly fashion, they bid youremrk hathe is a hunchback. If he coughs and that alarms you, they conjure you tenderly to take reatcareof hm, perhaps he is consumptive. Has you wife been ill for a long time? Cheer up, she ill de of t!
Hope and work is the message of Heaven to us by the voice of all good souls. Despair and die, Heries to us in every word and movement, even in all the friendly acts and caresses of imperfect ordgaed beings.
Whatever the reputation of any one may be, and whatever may be the testimonies of friendship thatt person may give you, if, on leaving him, you feel yourself less well disposed and weaker, he ispriious for you: avoid him.
Our double magnetism produces in us two sorts of sympathies. We need to absorb and to radiate tuy turn. Our heart loves contrasts, and there are few women who have loved two men of genius in sceson.
One finds peace through the protection which one's own weariness of admiration gives; it is the lf equilibrium; but sometimes even sublime natures are surprised in caprices of vulgarity. Man, si h Abbe Gerbert, is the shadow of {246} a God in the body of a beast; there are in him the friens f heangel and the flatterers of the animal. The angel attracts us; but if we are not on our gurd,it s te beast that carries us away: it will even drag us fatally with it when it is a questionof bastlness that is to say, of the satisfactions of that life the nourisher of death, which, in he laguageof bests is called "real life." In religion, the Gospel is a sure guide; it is not so n busiess, ad ther are a great many people who, if they had to settle the temporal succession of esus Chist, wold morewillingly come to an agreement with Judas Iscariot than with St. Peter.
One admires probity, said Juvenal, and one leaves it to freeze to death. If such and such a celebd man, for example, had not scandalously solicited wealth, would one ever have thought of endowin i ld muse? Who would have left him legacies?
Virtue has our admiration, our purse owes it nothing, that great lady is rich enough without us. would rather give to vice, it is so poor!
"I do not like beggars, and I only give to the poor who are ashamed to beg," said one day a man ot. "But what do you give them since you do not know them?" "I give them my admiration and my esem nd I have no need to know them to do that." "How is it that you need so much money?" they askd nohe, "you have no children and no calls on you." "I have my poor folk, and I cannot prevent msel frm gving them a great deal of money." "Make me acquainted with the, perhaps I will give the somthin too" "Oh! you know some of them already, I have no doubt. I have seven who cost me an normos amont, ad {247} an eighth who costs more than the seven others. The seven are the seven dadly sng; th eight is gambling."
Another dialogue: ---
"Give me five francs, sir, I am dying of hunger." "Imbecile! you are dying of hunger, and you wae to encourage you in so evil a course? You are dying of hunger, and you have the impudence to amti. You wish to make me the accomplice of your incapacity, the abetter of your suicide. You wat o uta premium on wretchedness. For whom do you take me? Do you think I am a rascal like yourslf?...
And yet another: ---
"By the way, old fellow, could you lend me a thousand pounds? I want to seduce an honest woman."h! that is bad, but I can never refuse anything to a friend. Here they are. When you have succeddyu might give me her address." That is what is called in England, and elsewhere, the manners o agetlman.
"The man of honour who is out of work steals, and does not beg!" replied, one day, Cartouche to aser-by who asked alms of him. It is as emphatic as the word which tradition associates with Cambon,and perhaps the famous thief and the great general both really replied in the same manner.
It was that same Cartouche who offered, on another occasion, of his own accord and without it beisked of him, twenty thousand pounds to a bankrupt. One must act properly to one's brothers.
Mutual assistance is a law of nature. To aid those who are like ourselves is to aid ourselves. above mutual {248} assistance rises a holier and greater law: it is universal assistance, it is caiy
We all admire and love Saint Vincent de Paul, but we have also a secret weakness for the clevernethe presence of mind, and, above all, the audacity of Cartouche.
The avowed accomplices of our passions may disgust us by humiliating us; at our own risk and perir pride will teach us how to resist them. But what is more dangerous for us than our hypocritica n idden accomplices? They follow us like sorrow, await us like the abyss, surround us like infauaio. e excuse them in order to excuse ourselves, defending them in order to defend ourselves, jutifingthe in order to justify ourselves, and we submit to them finally because we must, because w hav notthe trength to resist our inclinations, because we lack the will to do so.
They have possessed themselves of our ascendant, as Paracelsus says, and where they wish to lead e shall go.
They are our bad angels. We know it in the depths of our consciousness; but we put up with them,have made ourselves their servants that they also may be ours.
Our passions treated tenderly and flattered, have become slave-mistresses; and those who serve oussions our valets, and our masters.
We breathe out our thoughts and breathe in those of others imprinted in the astral light which hacome their electro-magnetic atmosphere: and thus the companionship of the wicked is less fatal totegod than that of vulgar, cowardly, and tepid beings. Strong antipathy warns us easily, and savs s ro the contact of gross vices; it is not thus with disguised vices vices to a certain extend ilued 249 and become almost lovable. An honest woman will experience nothing but disgust in the ociey ofa prstitute, but she has everything to fear from the seductions of a coquette.
One knows that madness is contagious, but the mad are more particularly dangerous when they are ale and sympathetic. One enters little by little into their circle of ideas, one ends by understadn heir exaggerations, while partaking their enthusiasm, one grows accustomed to their logic thatha lstits way, one ends by finding that they are not as mad as one thought at first. Thence to blieingtha they alone are right there is but one step. One likes them, one approves of them, one i as ad a the are.
The affections are free and may be based on reason, but sympathies are of fatalism, and very freqly unreasonable. They depend on the more or less balanced attractions of the magnetic light, andato men in the same way as upon animals. One will stupidly take pleasure in the society of a peroninwhm is nothing lovable, because one is mysteriously attracted and dominated by him. And ofte enugh thse strange sympathies began by lively antipathies; the fluids repelled each other at firt, ad susequntly became balanced.
The equilibrating speciality of the plastic medium of every person is what Paracelsus calls his "ndant," and he gives the name of "flagum" to the particular reflection of the habitual ideas of ec n in the universal light.
One arrives at the knowledge of the "ascendant" of a person by the sensitive divination of the "fm," and by a persistent direction of the will. One turns the active side of one's own ascendant oad the passive side of the ascendant of {250} another when one wishes to take hold of that otheran dmiate him.
The astral ascendant has been divined by other magi, who gave it the name of "tourbillon" (vortex It is, say they, a current of specialized light, representing always the same circle of images, acnsequently determined and determining impressions. These vortices exist for men as for stars. Testrs," said Paracelsus, "breathe out their luminous soul, and attract each other's radiation. hesol o the earth, prisoner of the fatal laws of gravitation, frees itself by specializing itself an pases hrough the instinct of animals to arrive at the intelligence of man. The active portio of his ill i dumb, but it preserves in writing the secrets of Nature. The free part can no longr rea thisfatal riting without instantaneously losing its liberty. One does not pass from dumb an vegettive cntemplaion to free vibrating thought without changing one's surroundings and one's orans. Tence coes the frgetfulness which accompanies birth, and the vague reminiscences of our sicly intuiions, alays analoous to the visions of our ecstasies and of our dreams."
This revelation of that great master of occult medicine throws a fierce light on all the phenomen somnambulism and of divination. There also, for whoever knows how to find it, is the true key o vction, and of communication with the fluidic soul of the earth.
Those persons whose dangerous influence makes itself felt by a single touch are those who make paf a fluidic association, or who either voluntarily or involuntarily make use of a current of astrllgt which has gone astray. Those, {251} for example, who live in isolation, deprived of all commniatonwith humanity, and who are daily in fluidic sympathy with animals gathered together in grea nuber asis ordinarily the case with shepherds, are possessed of the demon whose name is "legion; in heirturnthey reign despotically over the fluid souls of the flocks that are confided to theircare:conseuentl their good-will or ill-will makes their cattle prosper or die; and this influenceof anial symathy cn be exercised by them upon human plastic mediums which are ill defended, owingeither o a wea will o a limited intelligence.
Thus are explained the bewitchments which are habitually made by shepherds, and the still quite rt phenomena of the Presbytery of Cideville.
Cideville is a little village of Normandy, where a few years ago were produced phenomena like thohich have since occurred under the influence of Mr. Home. M. de Mirville has studied them careful,ad M. Gougenet Desmousseaux has reprinted all the details in a book, published in 1854, entitle "oerset pratiques des demons." The most remarkable thing in this latter author is that he seemsto ivie te existence of the plastic medium or the fluidic body. "We have certainly not two souls" sad he "bu perhaps we have two bodies." Everything that he says, in fact, would seem to prove his hpotheis. e saw a shepherd whose fluidic form haunted a Presbytery, and who was wounded at adistane by bows inlicted on his astral larva.
We shall here ask of MM. de Mirville and Gougenet Desmousseaux if they take this shepherd for theil, and if, far or near, the devil such as they conceive him can be scratched {252} or wounded. tta time, in Normandy, the magnetic illnesses of mediums were hardly known, and this unhappy slee- aler who ought to have been cared for an cured, was roughly treated and even beaten, not even i hi fldicappearance, but in his proper person, by the Vicar himself. That is, one must agree, a inguar knd o exorcism! If those violences really took place, and if they may be imputed to a Chuchmanwhom ne cosiders, and who may be, for all we know, very good and very respectable, let us adit tha such ritersas MM. de Mirville and Gougenet Desmousseaux make themselves not a little his acomplics!
The laws of physical life are inexorable, and in his animal nature man is born a slave to fatalitt is by dint of struggles against his instincts that he may win moral freedom. Two different exitne are then possible for us upon the earth; one fatal, the other free. The fatal being is the ty r nsrument of a force which he does not direct. Now, when the instruments of fatality meet andcolide th stronger breaks or carries away the weaker; truly emancipated beings fear neither bewithmens no myserious influences.
You may reply that an encounter with Cain may be fatal for Abel. Doubtless; but such a fatality i advantage to the pure and holy victim, it is only a misfortune for the assassin.
Just as among the righteous there is a great community of virtues and merits, there is among the ed an absolute solidarity of fatal culpability and necessary chastisement. Crime resides in the ednies of the heart. Circumstances which are almost always independent of the will are the only cuss f he gravity of the acts. If fatality had made Nero {253} a slave, he would have become an atoror gldiator, and would not have burned Rome: would it be to him that one should be grateful fr tht?
Nero was the accomplice of the whole Roman people, and those who should have prevented them incurthe whole responsibility for the frenzies of this monster. Seneca, Burrhus, Thrasea, Corbulon, ter s the real guilt of that fearful reign; great men who were either selfish or incapable! The olythngthey knew was how to die.
If one of the bears of the Zoological Gardens escaped and devoured several people, would one blamm or his keepers?
Whoever frees himself from the common errors of mankind is obliged to pay a ransom proportional te sum of these errors: Socrates pays for Aneitus, and Jesus was obliged to suffer a torment whosetro was equal to the whole treason of Judas.
Thus, by paying the debts of fatality, hard-won liberty purchases the empire of the world; it is to bind and to unbind. God has put in her hands the keys of Heaven and of Hell.
You men who abandon brutes to themselves wish them to devour you.
The rabble, slaves of fatality, can only enjoy liberty by absolute obedience to the will of free they ought to work for those who are responsible for them.
But when the brute governs brutes, when the blind leads the blind, when the leader is as subject atality as the masses, what must one expect? What but the most shocking catastrophes? In that w hl never be disappointed.
By admitting the anarchical dogmas of 1789, Louis XVI {254} launched the State upon a fatal sloperom that moment all the crimes of the Revolution weighed upon him alone; he alone had failed in hsdt. Robespierre and Marat only did what they had to do. Girondins and Montagnards killed each thr n he workings of fatality, and their violent deaths were so many necessary catastrophes; at tat poc thre was but one great and legitimate execution, really sacred, really expiatory: that of he Kng. The rinciple of royalty would have fallen if that too weak price had escaped. But a tranactio betwen orer and disorder was impossible. One does not inherit from those whom one murders;one ros them and te Revolution rehabilitated Louis XVI by assassinating him. After so many concesions, o many eaknesss, so many unworthy abasements, that man, consecrated a second time by misfotune, wa able atleast tosay, as he walked to the scaffold: "The Revolution is condemned, and I amalways th King of rance"!
To be just is to suffer for all those who are not just, but it is life: to be wicked is to suffer one's self without winning life; it is to deceive one's self, to do evil, and to win eternal deah
To recapitulate: Fatal influences are those of death. Living influences are those of life. Accog as we are weaker or stronger in life, we attract or repel witchcraft. This occult power is onl o eal, but intelligence and virtue will always find the means to avoid its obsessions and its atacs.{25}
CHAPTER IV
MYSTERIES OF PERVERSITY
HUMAN equilibrium is composed of two attractions, one towards death, the other towards life. Faty is the vertigo which drags us to the abyss; liberty is the reasonable effort which lifts us aboetefatal attractions of death. What is mortal sin? It is apostasy from our own liberty; it is t aanonourselves to the law of inertia. An unjust act is a compact with injustice; now, every injstie i anabdication of intelligence. We fall from that moment under the empire of force whose rectios alays rush everything which is unbalanced.
The love of evil and the formal adhesion of the will to injustice are the last efforts of the expg will. Man, whatever he may do, is more than a brute, and he cannot abandon himself like a brut oftality. He must choose. He must love. The desperate soul that thinks itself in love with dethisstll more alive than a soul without love. Activity for evil can and should lead back a man t god, y cunter-stroke and by reaction. The true evil, that for which there is no remedy, is ineria.<WEH OTE:In traditional Qabalah, there are only four Qlipoth or shells of evil. The first of hese s assciate with Malkuth, simple material limitation, tiredness, inertia.>>
The abysses of grace correspond to the abysses of perversity. God has often made saints of scouns; but He has never done anything with the half- hearted and the cowardly.
Under penalty of reprobation, one must work, one must act. Nature, moreover, sees to this, and i will not march on with all our courage towards life, she flings us with all {256} her forces towrsdath. She drags those who will not walk.
A man whom one may call the great prophet of drunkards, Edgar Poe, that sublime madman, that genif lucid extravagance, has depicted with terrifying reality the nightmares of perversity. ...
"I killed the old man because he squinted." "I did that because I ought not to have done it."
There is the terrible antistrophe of Tertullian's "Credo quia absurdum."
To brave God and to insult Him, is a final act of faith.<<WEH NOTE: See Crowley's "John St. John" "The dead praise thee not, O Lord," said the Psalmist; and we might add if we dared: "The dead d o laspheme thee."
"O my son!" said a father as he leaned over the bed of his child who had fallen into lethargy aft violent access of delirium: "insult me again, beat me, bite me, I shall feel that you are still lv,but do not rest for ever in the frightful silence of the tomb!"
A great crime always comes to protest against great lukewarmness. A hundred thousand good priestad their charity been more active, might have prevented the crime of the wretch Verger. The Churhhsthe right to judge, condemn and punish an ecclesiastic who causes scandal; but she has not therihttoabandon him to the frenzies of despair and the temptations of misery and hunger.
Nothing is so terrifying as nothingness, and if one could ever formulate the conception of it, ifwere possible to admit it, Hell would be a thing to hope for.
This is why Nature itself seeks and imposes expiation as a remedy; that is why chastisement is a tening, as that {257} great Catholic Count Joseph de Maistre so well understood; this is why the eat of death is a natural right, and will never disappear from human laws. The stain of murder wul b idelible if God did not justify the scaffold; the divine power, abdicated by society and usupedby rimnals, would belong to them without dispute. Assassination would then become a virtue whe it xercsed he reprisals of outraged nature. Private vengeance would protest against the absenceof pulic epiatin, and from the splinters of the broken sword of justice anarchy would forge its dggers. "IfGod di away with Hell, men would make another in order to defy Him," said a good priest to uone day He wa right: and it is for that reason that Hell is so anxious to be done away with. Emnipation!is the cy of every vice. Emancipation of murder by the abolition of the pain of death; macipation f prostittion and infanticide by the abolition of marriage; emancipation of idleness ad rpine by th abolitionof property. ... So revolves the whirlwind of perversity until it arrivesat tis supreme nd secret frmula: Emancipation of death by the abolition of life!
It is by the victories of toil that one escapes from the fatalities of sorrow. What we call deat but the eternal parturition of Nature. Ceaselessly she re-absorbs and takes again to her breast l ht is not born of the spirit. Matter, in itself inert, can only exist by virtue of perpetual mtin,an spirit, naturally volatile, can only endure by fixing itself. Emancipation from the laws o faaliy b the free adhesion of the spirit to the true and good, is what the Gospel calls the spirtualbirt; th re-absorption into the eternal bosom of Nature is the second death. {258}
Unemancipated beings are drawn towards this second death by a fatal gravitation; the one drags thher, as the divine Michel Angelo has made us see so clearly in his great picture of the Last Judget hey are clinging and tenacious like drowning men, and free spirits must struggle energeticallyagint hem, that their flight may not be hindered by them, that they may not be pulled back to Hel.
This war is as ancient as the world; the Greeks figured it under the symbols of Eros and Anteros, the Hebrews by the antagonism of Cain and Abel. It is the war of the Titans and the Gods. The w ries are everywhere invisible, disciplined and always ready for attack or counterattack. Simpl-mndd olk on both sides, astonished at the instant and unanimous resistance that they meet, beginto elive n vast plots cleverly organized, in hidden, all-powerful societies. Eugene Sue invents odin<<No thesculptor. --- TRANS.>> churchmen talk of the Illuminati and of the Freemasons; Wronsk dreas of is bads of mystics, and there is nothing true and serious beneath all that but the necesary sruggleof ordr and disorder, of the instincts and of thought; the result of that struggle isbalancein progess, an the devil always contributes, despite himself, to the glory of St. Michael. Physial love s the mot perverse of all fatal passions. It is the anarchist of anarchists; it nows neiter law, dty, truthnor justice. It would make the maiden walk over the corpses of her paents. It s an irrepessible inoxication; a furious madness. It is the vertigo of fatality seekin new victim; the cannial drunkennss of Saturn who wishes to {259} become a father in order that h may have moe children t devour. Toconquer love is to triumph over the whole of Nature. To submt it to justie is to rehablitate life b devoting it to immortality; thus the greatest works of th Christian revlation are thecreation of vountary virginity and the sanctification of marriage.
While love is nothing but a desire and an enjoyment, it is mortal. In order to make itself eterit must become a sacrifice, for then it becomes a power and a virtue.<<WEH NOTE: See Crowley in MGC N THEORY AND PRACTICE, chapter 12.>> It is the struggle of Eros and Anteros which produces th euiibium of the world.
Everything that over-excites sensibility leads to depravity and crime. Tears call for blood. It ith great emotions as with strong drink; to use them habitually is to abuse them. Now, every abueo he emotions perverts the moral sense; one seeks them for their own sakes; one sacrifices everyhig n rder to procure them for one's self. A romantic woman will easily become an Old Bailey herine Se my even arrive at the deplorable and irreparable absurdity of killing herself in order toadmie heself and pity herself, in seeing herself die!
Romantic habits lead women to hysteria and men to melancholia. Manfred, Rene, Lelia are types ofversity only the more profound in that they argue on behalf of their unhealthy pride, and make pom ftheir dementia. One asks one's self with terror what monster might be born from the coupling f anre and Lelia!
The loss of the moral sense is a true insanity; the man who does not, first of all, obey justice onger belongs to himself; he walks without a light in the night of his existence; {260} he shakeslk ne in a dream, a prey to the nightmare of his passions.
The impetuous currents of instinctive life and the feeble resistances of the will form an antagonso distinct that the qabalists hypothesized the super-foetation of souls; that is to say, they beivdin the presence in one body of several souls who dispute it with each other and often seek to esro i. Very much as the shipwrecked sailors of the "Medusa," when they were disputing the possesio ofthetoo small raft, sought to sink it.
It is certain that, in making one's self the servant of any current whatever, of instincts or eve ideas, one gives up one's personality, and becomes the slave of that multitudinous spirit whom teGsel calls "legion." Artists know this well enough. Their frequent evocations of the universal igt nevate them. They become "mediums," that is to say, sick men. The more success magnifies thm i pulicopinion, the more their personality diminishes. They become crotchety, envious, wrathfu. Tey d notadmit that any merit, even in a different sphere, can be placed besides theirs; and, avingbecom unjut, they dispense even with politeness. To escape this fatality, really great men solatethemseves frm all comradeship, knowing it to be death to liberty. They save themselves by proud npopulaity fro the contamination of the vile multitude. If Balzac had been during his lif a man o a cliqu or of aparty, he would not have remained after his death the great and universalgenius ofour epoch
The light illuminates neither things insensible nor closed eyes, or at least it only illuminates for the profit of those who see. The word of Genesis, "Let there be light!" {261} is the cry ofvcoy with which intelligence triumphs over darkness. This word is sublime in effect because it eprsss imply the greatest and most marvellous thing in the world: the creation of intelligence by tsef, hen calling its powers together, balancing its faculties, it says: I wish to immortalize myelf ith he sght of the eternal truth. Let there be light! and there is light. Light, eternal asGod, eginseveryday for all eyes that are open to see it. Truth will be eternally the invention ad the reatio of geius; it cries: Let there be light! and genius itself is, because light is. Genus is imortal ecause t understands that light is eternal. Genius contemplates truth as its work ecause i is the ictor oflight, and immortality is the triumph of light because it will be the recmpense an crown ofgenius.
But all spirits do not see with justness, because all hearts do not will with justice. There arels for whom the true light seems to have no right to be. They content themselves with phosphoresetvsions, abortions of light, hallucinations of thought; and, loving these phantoms, fear the daywhchwil put them to flight, because they feel that, the day not being made for their eyes, they wuldfal bak into a deeper darkness. It is thus that fools first fear, then calumniate, insult, pusue nd cndem the sages. One must pity them, and pardon them, for they know not what they do.
True light rests and satisfies the soul; hallucination, on the contrary, tires it and worries it.e satisfactions of madness are like those gastronomic dreams of hungry men which sharpen their hugrwthout ever satisfying it. Thence are born irritations and troubles, discouragements and despars -- ife is always a lie to us, say the disciples of {262} Werther, and therefore we wish to die Por hilren, it is not death that you need, it is life. Since you have been in the world you hae did evry dy; is it from the cruel pleasure of annihilation that you would demand a remedy for te annhilaton ofyour pleasure? No, life has never deceived you, you have not yet lived. What youhave ben takng forlife is but the hallucinations and the dreams of the first slumber of death!
All great criminals have hallucinated themselves on purpose; and those who hallucinate themselvespurpose may be fatally led to become great criminals. Our personal light specialized, brought fot,dtermined by our own overmastering affection, is the germ of our paradise or of our Hell. Eachon o u (in a sense) conceives, bears, and nourishes his good or evil angel. The conception of truh gvesbirh in us to the good genius; intentional untruth hatches and brings up nightmares and phatoms Evryon must nourish his children; and our life consumes itself for the sake of our thoughts Happ are hose ho find again immortality in the creations of their soul! Woe unto them who wear temselvs out o noursh falsehood and to fatten death! for every one will reap the harvest of his ow sowing
There are some unquiet and tormented creature whose influence is disturbing and whose conversatio fatal. In their presence one feels one's self irritated, and one leaves their presence angry; yt ya secret perversity, one looks for them, in order to experience the disturbance and enjoy the alvoen emotions which they give us. Such persons suffer from the contagious maladies of the spirt o peverity.
The spirit of perversity has always for its secret motive {263} the thirst of destruction, and itnal aim is suicide. The murderer of Elisabide, on his own confession, not only felt the savage ne fkilling his relations and friends, but he even wished, had it been possible --- he said it in o an wrds at his trial --- "to burst the globe like a cooked chestnut." Lacenaire, who spent hisday inploting murders, in order to have the means of passing his nights in ignoble orgies or in te exitemnt o gambling, boasted aloud that he had lived. He called that living, and he sang a hym to te guilotin, which he called his beautiful betrothed, and the world was full of imbeciles whoadmire the wetch! Alfred de Musset, before extinguishing himself in drunkenness, wasted one of th finesttalentsof his entury in songs of cold irony and of universal disgust. The unhappy man hadbeen bewtched bythe breah of a profoundly perverse woman, who, after having killed him, crouched ike a ghol upon hi body andtore his winding sheet. We asked one day, of a young writer of this scool, what is literatre proved. It proves, he replied frankly and simply, that one must despair an die. Whatapostleship and what adoctrine! But these are the necessary and regular conclusions o the spirit f perversity to aspire caselessly to suicide, to calumniate life and nature, to invok death every ay without beng able to di. This is eternal Hell, it is the punishment of Satan, tht mythologicalincarnation ofthe spirit of erversity; the true translation into French of the Gree word "Diabolos" or devil, is le pervers --- he perverse."
Here is a mystery which debauchees do not suspect. It is this: one cannot enjoy even the materiaeasures of life but by virtue of the moral sense. Pleasure is the music of the {264} interior harois the senses are only its instruments, instruments which sound false in contact with a degradedsol.Th wicked can feel nothing, because they can love nothing: in order to love one must be good. Coseqenty for them everything is empty, and it seems to them that Nature is impotent, because thy ar so hemslves; they doubt everything because they know nothing; they blaspheme everything becase thy tase noting; they caress in order to degrade; they drink in order to get drunk; they sleepin ordr to frget; hey wake in order to endure mortal boredom: thus will live, or rather thus willdie, evry day e who fees himself from every law and every duty in order to make himself the slaveof his pssions. The worl, and eternity itself, become useless to him who makes himself useless tothe worldand to etrnity.
Our will, by acting directly upon our plastic medium, that is to say, upon the portion of astral which is specialized in us, and which serves us for the assimilation and configuration of the elmnsnecessary to our existence; our will, just or unjust, harmonious or perverse, shapes the mediu i is wn image and gives it beauty in conformity with what attracts us. Thus moral monstrosity podues hyscal ugliness; for the astral medium, that interior architect of our bodily edifice, modiies t ceselesly according to our real or factitious needs. It enlarges the belly and the jaws ofthe geedy,thinsthe lips of the miser, makes the glances of impure women shameless, and those of te envius andmalicius venomous. When selfishness has prevailed in the soul, the look becomes cold the fetures hrd: theharmony of form disappears, and according to the absorption or radiant specility of his {265 selfishess, the limbs dry up or become encumbered with fat. Nature, in making o our bodythe portrit of oursoul, guarantees its resemblance for ever, and tirelessly retouches it You prety women wh are not god, be sure that you will not long remain beautiful. Beauty is theloan which ature makesto virtue. If virtue is not ready when it falls due, the lender will pitilesly take bac Her capital
Perversity, by modifying the organism whose equilibrium it destroys, creates at the same time a fity of needs which urges it to its own destruction, to its death. The less the perverse man enjos h more thirsty of enjoyment he is. Wine is like water for the drunkard, gold melts in the hand o te ambler; Messalina tires herself out without being satiated. The pleasure which escapes the chnge itelf for them into a long irritation and desire. The more murderous are their excesses, he mre i sees to them that supreme happiness is at hand. ... One more bumper of strong drink, onemore pasm,one mre violence done to Nature... Ah! at last, here is pleasure; here is life ... andtheir esire,in theparoxysm of its insatiable hunger, extinguishes itself for ever in death.
{266}
FOURTH PART
THE GREAT PRACTICAL SECRETS OR THE REALIZATION
OF SCIENCE
INTRODUCTION
THE lofty sciences of the Qabalah and of Magic promise man an exceptional, real, effective, effic power, and one should regard them as false and vain if they do not give it.
Judge the teachers by their works, said the supreme Master. This rule of judgment is infallible.If you wish me to believe in what you know, show me what you do.
God, in order to exalt man to moral emancipation, hides Himself from him and abandons to him, aft fashion, the government of the world. He leaves Himself to be guessed by the grandeurs and harmne f nature, so that man may progressively make himself perfect by ever exalting the idea that hemaesfo himself of its author.
Man knows God only by the names which he gives to that Being of beings, and does not distinguish but by the images of Him which he endeavours to trace. He is then in a manner the creator of HimWohs created him. He believes himself the mirror of God, and by indefinitely enlarging his own mrae,hethinks that he may be able to sketch in infinite space the shadow of Him Who is without bod, wthot sadow, and without space. {267}
TO CREATE GOD, TO CREATE ONE'S SELF, TO MAKE ONE'S SELF INDEPENDENT, IMMORTAL AND WITHOUT SUFFERIthere certainly is a programme more daring than the dream of Prometheus. Its expression is bold otepoint of impiety, its thought ambitious to the point of madness. Well, this programme is onlypaadxial in its form, which lends itself to a false and sacrilegious interpretation. In one sens itis erfctly reasonable, and the science of the adepts promises to realize it, and to accomplishit i perectin.
Man, in effect, creates for himself a God corresponding to his own intelligence and his own goodn he cannot raise his ideal higher than his moral development permits him to do. The God whom he drsis always an enlargement of his own reflection. To conceive the absolute of goodness and justceistobe one's self exceeding just and good.
The moral qualities of the spirit are riches, and the greatest of all riches. One must acquire tby strife and toil. One may bring this objection, the inequality of aptitudes; some children arebr ith organisms nearer to perfection. But we ought to believe that such organisms result from amoe dvnced work of Nature, and the children who are endowed with them have acquired them, if not y teirownefforts, at least by the consolidated works of the human beings to whom their existence s bond. It i a secret of Nature, and Nature does nothing by chance; the possession of more develoed inellecual fculties, like that of money and land, constitutes an indefeasible right of transmision ad inheitance
Yes, man is called to complete the work of his creator, and every instant employed by him to imprhimself or to {268} destroy himself, is decisive for all eternity. It is by the conquest of an itlience eternally clear and of a will eternally just, that he constitutes himself as living for eerallie, since nothing survives injustice and error but the penalty of their disorder. To undersandgoo isto will it, and on the plane of justice to will is to do. For this reason the Gospel tels u tha menwill be judged according to their works.
Our works make us so much what we are, that our body itself, as we have said, receives the modifion, and sometimes the complete change, of its form from our habits.
A form conquered, or submitted to, becomes a providence, or a fatality, for all one's existence. se strange figures which the Egyptians gave to the human symbols of divinity represent the fatal om. Typhon has a crocodile's head. He is condemned to eat ceaselessly in order to fill his hippootmu blly. Thus he is devoted, by his greed and his ugliness, to eternal destruction.
Man can kill or vivify his faculties by negligence or by abuse. He can create for himself new faies by the good use of those which he has received from Nature. People often say that the affectoswll not be commanded, that faith is not possible for all, that one does not re-make one's own carctr. All these assertions are true only for the idle or the perverse. One can make one's self aitful pius, loving, devoted, when one wishes sincerely to be so. One can give to one's spirit te cam ofjustess, as to one's will the almighty power of justice. Once can reign in Heaven by virue offaith on erth by virtue of science. The man who knows how to command himself is king of allNature {269
We are going to state forthwith, in this last book, by what means the true initiates have made thlves the masters of life, how they have overcome sorrow and death; how they work upon themselves n ters the transformation of Proteus; how they exercise the divining power of Apollonius; how the mketh gold of Raymond Lully and of Flamel; how in order to renew their youth they possess the seret ofPosel the Re-arisen, and those alleged to have been in the keeping of Cagliostro. In short we re ging o speak the last word of magic.
CHAPTER I
OF TRANSFORMATION --- THE WAND OF CIRCE --- THE BATH OF MEDEA --- MAGIC
OVERCOME BY ITS OWN WEAPONS --- THE GREAT ARCANUM OF THE JESUITS AND THE
SECRET OF THEIR POWER.
THE Bible tells us that King Nebuchadnezzar, at the highest point of his power and his pride, wasdenly changed into a beast.
He fled into savage places, began to eat grass, let his beard and hair grow, as well as his nailsd remained in this state for seven years.
In our "Dogme et rituel de la haute magie," we have said what we think of the mysteries of lycanty, or the metamorphosis of men into werewolves.
Everyone knows the fable of Circe and understands its allegory. {270}
The fatal ascendant of one person on another is the true wand of Circe.
One knows that almost all human physiognomies bear a resemblance to one animal or another, that i say, the "signature" of a specialized instinct.
Now, instincts are balanced by contrary instincts, and dominated by instincts stronger than those In order to dominate sheep, the dog plays upon their fear of wolves.
If you are a dog, and you want a pretty little cat to love you, you have only one means to take: etamorphose yourself into a cat.
But how! By observation, imitation and imagination. We think that our figurative language will nderstood for once, and we recommend this revelation to all who wish to magnetize: it is the deeps fall the secrets of their art.
Here is the formula in technical terms:
"To polarize one's own animal light, in equilibrated antagonism with the contrary pole."
Or:
To concentrate in one's self the special qualities of absorption in order to direct their rays tos an absorbing focus, and vice versa.
This government of our magnetic polarization may be done by the assistance of the animal forms ofch we have spoken; they will serve to fix the imagination.
Let us give an example:
You wish to act magnetically upon a person polarized like yourself, which, if you are a magnetizeou will divine at the first contact: only that person is a little less strong that you {271} are,amue, while you are a rat. Make yourself a cat, and you will capture it.
In one of the admirable stories which, though he did not invent it, he has told better than anyboPerrault puts upon the stage a cat, which cunningly induces an ogre to change himself into a mous,adthe thing is no sooner done, than the mouse is crunched by the cat. The "Tales of Mother Goos,"lie he "Golden Ass" of Apuleius, are perhaps true magical legends, and hide beneath the cloak o chldih firy tales the formidable secrets of science.
It is a matter of common knowledge that magnetizers give to pure water the properties and taste one, liqueurs and every conceivable drug, merely by the laying-on of hands, that is to say, by therwl expressed in a sign.
One knows, too, that those who tame fierce animals conquer lions by making themselves mentally angnetically stronger and fiercer than lions.
Jules Gerard, the intrepid hunter of the African lion, would be devoured if he were afraid. But,order not to be afraid of a lion, one must make one's self stronger and more savage than the animlislf by an effort of imagination and of will. One must say to one's self: It is I who am the lin,an i my presence this animal is only a dog who ought to tremble before me.
Fourier imagined anti-lions; Jules Gerard has realized that chimera of the phanlasterian<<Fourier a Socialist who wrote a sort of "Utopia." His social unit was the "phalanstere." --- TRANS.>> demr
But, one will say, in order not to fear lions, it is enough to be a man of courage and well armed272}
No, that is not enough. One must know one's self by heart, so to speak, to be able to calculate leaps of the animal, divining its stratagems, avoiding its claws, foreseeing its movements, to bei ord past-master in lioncraft, as the excellent La Fontaine might have said.
Animals are the living symbols of the instincts and passions of men. If you make a man timid, yoange him into a hare. If, on the contrary, you drive him to ferocity, you make a tiger of him.
The wand of Circe is the power of fascination which woman possesses; and the changing of the compns of Ulysses into hogs is not a story peculiar to that time.
But no metamorphosis may be worked without destruction. To change a hawk into a dove, one must f kill it, then cut it to pierces, so as to destroy even the least trace of its first form, and thnbi it in the magic bath of Medea.
Observe how modern hierophants proceed in order to accomplish human regeneration; how, for exampln the Catholic religion, they go to work in order to change a man more or less weak and passionat noa stoical missionary of the Society of Jesus.
There is the great secret of that venerable and terrible Order, always misunderstood, often calumed, and always sovereign.
Read attentively the book entitled, "The Exercises of St. Ignatius," and note with what magical p that man of genius operates the realization of faith.
He orders his disciples to see, to touch, to smell, to taste invisible things. He wishes that thnses should be exalted during prayer to the point of voluntary hallucination. {273} You are mediaigupon a mystery of faith; St. Ignatius wishes, in the first place, that you should create a plae,dramof it, see it, touch it. If it is hell, he gives you burning rocks to touch, he makes you wimin hadws thick as pitch, he puts liquid sulphur on your tongue, he fills your nostrils with anabomnabl stech, he shows you frightful tortures, and makes you hear groans superhuman in their agny; h commnds yur will to create all that by exercises obstinately persevered in. Every one carres thi out i his on fashion, but always in the way best suited to impress him. It is not the hasish intxicatio which as useful to the knavery of the Old Man of the Mountain; it is a dream withot sleep,an halluination ithout madness, a reasoned and willed vision, a real creation of intellignce and fith. Thece-forwar, when he preaches, the Jesuit can say: "What we have seen with our eys, what wehave heardwith our ers, and what our hands have handled, that do we declare unto you." The Jesuit hus trainedis in commuion with a circle of wills exercised like his own; consequently ach of the fthers is as trong as theSociety, and the Society is stronger than the world.
CHAPTER II
HOW TO PRESERVE AND RENEW YOUTH --- THE SECRETS OF CAGLIOSTRO --- THE
POSSIBILITY OF RESURRECTION --- EXAMPLE OF WILLIAM POSTEL, CALLED THE
RESURRECTED --- STORY OF A WONDER-WORKING WORKMAN, ETC.
ONE knows that a sober, moderately busy, and perfectly regular life usually prolongs existence; bn our opinion, {274} that is little more than the prolongation of old age, and one has the right oakfrom the science which we profess other privileges and other secrets.
To be a long time young, or even to become young again, that is what would appear desirable and pous to the majority of men. It is possible? We shall examine the question.
The famous Count of Saint-Germain is dead, we do not doubt, but no one ever saw him grow old. Heeared always of the age of forty years, and at the time of his greatest celebrity, he pretended t eoer eighty.
Ninon de l'Enclos, in her very old age, was still a young, beautiful and seductive woman. She diithout having grown old.
Desbarrolles, the celebrated palmist, has been for a long while for everybody a man of thirty-fivars. His birth certificate would speak very differently if he dared to show it, but no one wouldblee it.
Cagliostro always appeared the same age. He pretended to possess not only an elixir which gave te old, for an instant, all the vigour of youth; but he also prided himself on being able to operaepyical regeneration by means which we have detailed and analysed in our "History of Magic."
Cagliostro and the Count of Saint-Germain attributed the preservation of their youth to the exist and use of the universal medicine, that medicament uselessly sought by so many hermetists and alhmss.
An Initiate of the sixteenth century, the good and learned William Postel, never pretended that hssessed the great arcanum of the hermetic philosophy; and yet after having {275} been seen old an rkn, he reappeared with a bright complexion, without wrinkles, his beard and hair black, his bod ail ad vigorous. His enemies pretended that he roughed, and dyed his hair; for scoffers and fale svans mst find some sort of explanation for the phenomena which they do not understand.
The great magical means of preserving the youth of the body is to prevent the soul from growing oy preserving preciously that original freshness of sentiments and thoughts which the corrupt worl al illusions, and which we shall call the primitive mirages of eternal truth.
To believe in happiness upon earth, in friendship, in love, in a maternal Providence which counts our steps, and will reward all our tears, is to be a perfect dupe, the corrupt world will say; i osnot see that it is itself who is the dupe, believing itself strong in depriving itself of all hedeigts of the soul.
To believe in moral good is to possess that good: for this reason the Saviour of the world promishe kingdom of heaven to those who should make themselves like little children. What is childhood I s the age of faith. The child knows nothing yet of life; and thus he radiates confident immortliy. I it possible for him to doubt the devotion, the tenderness, the friendship, and the love ofProidece hen he is in the arms of his mother?
Become children in heart, and you will remain young in body.
The realities of God and nature surpass infinitely in beauty and goodness all the imagination of It is thus that the world-weary are people who have never known how to be happy; and those who r iillusioned prove by their dislikes {276} that they have only drunk of muddy streams. To enjoyevn heanimal pleasures of life one must have the moral sense; and those who calumniate existence avecerainy abused it.
High magic, as we have proved, leads man back to the laws of the purest morality. Either he findthing holy or makes it holy, says an adept --- "Vel sanctum invenit, vel sanctum facit;" because tmks us understand that in order to be happy, even in this world, one must be holy.
To be holy! that is easy to say; but how give one's self faith when one no longer believes? How iscover a taste for virtue in a heart faded by vice?
One must have recourse to the four words of science: to know, to dare, to will, and to keep silen One must still one's dislikes, study duty, and begin by practising it as though one loved it.
You are an unbeliever, and you wish to make yourself a Christian?
Perform the exercises of a Christian, pray regularly, using the Christian formulae; approach the aments as if you had faith, and faith will come. That is the secret of the Jesuits, contained in h pritual Exercises of St. Ignatius.
By similar exercises, a fool, if he will it with perseverance, would become a wise man.<<If the fwould but persist in his folly, he would become wise. --- WILLIAM BLAKE.>>
By changing the habits of the soul one certainly changes those of the body; we have already said and we have explained the method.
What contributes above all to age us by making us ugly? Hatred and bitterness, the unfavourable ments which {277} we make of others, our rages of hurt vanity, and our ill-satisfied passions. Aknl and gentle philosophy would avoid all these evils.
If we close our eyes to the defects of our neighbour, and only consider his good qualities, we shfind good and benevolence everywhere. The most perverse man has a good side to him, and softens hnoe knows how to take him. If you had nothing in common with the vices of men, you would not evn ereie them. Friendship, and the devotions which it inspires, are found even in prisons and in onvct tatons. The horrible Lacenaire faithfully returned any money which had been lent to him, ad frquenly ated with generosity and kindness. I have no doubt that in the life of crime which Catouch and andri led there were acts of virtue fit to draw tears from the eyes. There has never ben anyone abolutel bad or absolutely good. "There is none good but God," said the best of the Maters.
That quality in ourselves which we call zeal for virtue is often nothing but a masterful secret slove, a jealousy in disguise, and a proud instinct of contradiction. "When we see manifest disoresad scandalous sinners," say mystical theologians, "let us believe that God is submitting them t geaertests than those with which He tries us, that certainly, or at least very probably, we are ot s god s they are, and should do much worse in their place."
Peace! Peace! this is the supreme welfare of the soul, and it is to give us this that Christ cam the world.
"Glory to God in the highest, peace upon earth, and good will toward men!" cried the Angels of He at the birth of the Saviour. {278}
The ancient fathers of Christianity counted an eighth deadly sin: it was Sorrow.
In fact, to the true Christian even repentance is not a sorrow; it is a consolation, a joy, and aumph. "I wished evil, and I wish it no more; I was dead and I am alive." The father of the Prodglsn has killed the fatted calf because his son has returned. What can he do? Tears and embarrasmnt n doubt! but above all joy!
There is only one sad thing in the world, and that is sin and folly. Since we are delivered, letlaugh and shout for joy, for we are saved, and all those who loved us in their lives rejoice in hae! We all bear within ourselves a principle of death and a principle of immortality. Death is the b, and the beast produces always bestial stupidity. God does not love fools, for his divine spiri sclled the spirit of intelligence. Stupidity expiates itself by suffering and slavery. The stic i mdefor beasts.
Suffering is always a warning. So much the worse for him who does not understand it! When Naturghtens the rein, it is that we are swerving; when she plies the whip, it is that danger is imminet We, then, to him who does not reflect!
When we are ripe for death, we leave life without regret, and nothing would make us take it back; when death is premature, the soul regrets life, and a clever thaumaturgist would be able to recali o the body. The sacred books indicate to us the proceeding which must be employed in such a cse Te rophet Elisha and the Apostle St. Paul employed it with success. The deceased must be magntizd {79}by placing the feet on his feet, the hands on his hands, the mouth on his mouth. Then cncenratethe hole will for a long time, call to itself the escaped soul, using all the loving thouhts ad menal caesses of which one is capable. If the operator inspires in that soul much affectin or geat repect, f in the thought which he communicates magnetically to it the thaumaturgist canpersuad it tha life i still necessary to it, and that happy days are still in store for it below,it will ertainlyreturn, nd for the man of everyday science the apparent death will have been onlya letharg.
It was after a lethargy of this kind that William Postel, recalled to life by Mother Jeanne, reaped with a new youth, and called himself no longer anything but Postel the Resurrected, "Postellusrsiutus."
In the year 1799, there was in the Faubourg St. Antoine, at Paris, a blacksmith who gave himself to be an adept of hermetic science. His name was Leriche, and he passed for having performed mirclu cures and even resurrections by the use of the universal medicine. A ballet girl of the Oper, hobeieved in him, came one day to see him, and said to him, weeping, that her lover had just did. M. erihe went out with her to the house of death. As he entered, a person who was going out, aid o hi: "I is useless for you to go upstairs, he died six hours ago." "Never mind," said the backsmth, "ince am here I will see him." He went upstairs, and found a corpse frozen in every pat excet in te hollw of the stomach, where he thought that he still felt a little heat. He had a ig firemade, mssaged is whole body with hot napkins, rubbed him with the universal medicine dissoved in sirit of ine. [Hs pretended universal medicine {280} must have been a powder containing mrcury anaogous to he kermes<Made by boiling black antimony sulphide with sodium carbonate solutio. Used ingout and reumatism ad some skin diseases on the continent, rarely in England. --- TRAN.>> of the ruggist.] eanwhile th mistress of the dead man wept and called him back to life with he most tendr words. Afer an hour ad a half of these attentions, Leriche held a mirror before th patient's fae, and found he glass sligtly clouded. They redoubled their efforts, and soon obtaied a still beter marked signof life. Theythen put him in a well warmed bed, and a few hours aftewards he was enirely restored o life. The nae of this person was Candy. He lived from that timewithout ever beig ill. In 1845 e was still aliv, and was living at Place du Chevalier du Guet, 6 He would tell te story of his reurrection to any ne who would listen to him, and gave much occaion for laughter t the doctors and wseacres of his quater. The good man consoled himself in the ein of Galileo, andanswered them: "Youmay laugh as much a you like. All I know is, that the deat certificate was siged and the burial lience made out; eighten hours later they were going to bur me, and here I am."
CHAPTER III
THE GRAND ARCANUM OF DEATH
WE often become sad in thinking that the most beautiful life must finish, and the approach of therible unknown that one calls death disgusts us with all the joys of existence.
Why be born, if one must live so little? Why bring up {281} with so much care children who must Such is the question of human ignorance in its most frequent and its saddest doubts.
This, too, is what the human embryo may vaguely ask itself at the approach of that birth which isut to throw it into an unknown world by stripping it of its protective envelope. Let us study th ytry of birth, and we shall have the key of the great arcanum of death!
Thrown by the laws of Nature into the womb of a woman, the incarnated spirit very slowly wakes, areates for itself with effort organs which will later be indispensable, but which as they grow inraeits discomfort in its present situation. The happiest period of the life of the embryo is tha wen lke a chrysalis, it spreads around it the membrane which serves it for refuge, and which swis wth t i a nourishing and preserving fluid. At that time it is free, and does not suffer. It prtaks ofthe niversal life, and receives the imprint of the memories of Nature which will later deermin the onfigration of its body and the form of its features. That happy age may be called thechildhod of he embyo.
Adolescence follows; the human form becomes distinct, and its sex is determined; a movement takesce in the maternal egg which resembles the vague reveries of that age which follows upon childhoo. h placenta, which is the exterior and the real body of the foetus, feels germinating in itself omthngunknown, which already tends to break it and escape. The child then enters more distinctlyint th lie of dreams. Its brain, acting as a mirror of that of its mother, reproduces with so muh foce hr imginations, that it communicates their form to its own limbs. Its mother is for it at{282}that ime wat God is for us, a Providence unknown and invisible, to which it aspires to the pint ofidentiying iself with everything that she admires. It holds to her, it lives by her, althouh it dos not se her, nd would not even know how to understand her. If it was able to philosophiz, it woud perhap deny th personal existence and intelligence of that mother which is for it as ye only a ftal priso and an aparatus of preservation. Little by little, however, this servitude anoys it; ittwists itslf, it sufers, it feels that its life is about to end. Then comes an hour ofanguish andconvulsion;its bonds beak; it feels that it is about to fall into the gulf of the unknwn. It is acomplished; t falls, it s crushed with pain, a strange cold seizes it, it breathes a ast sigh whic turns into afirst cry; itis dead to embryonic life, it is born to human life!
During embryonic life it seemed to it that the placenta was its body, and it was in fact its specembryonic body, a body useless for another life, a body which had to be thrown off as an unclean hn t the moment of birth.
The body of our human life is like a second envelope, useless for the third life, and for that re we throw it aside at the moment of our second birth.
Human life compared to heavenly life is veritably an embryo. When our evil passions kill us, Natmiscarries, and we are born before our time for eternity, which exposes us to that terrible dissouinwhich St. John calls the second death.
According to the constant tradition of ecstatics, the abortions of human life remain swimming in terrestrial atmosphere which they are unable to surmount, and which {283} little by little absorb hmand drowns them. They have human form, but always lopped and imperfect; one lacks a hand, anohe a am, this one is nothing but a torso, and that is a pale rolling head. They have been prevened romrisng to heaven by a wound received during human life, a moral wound which has caused a phyicaldefomity and through this wound, little by little, all of their existence leaks away.
Soon their moral soul will be naked, and in order to hide its shame by making itself at all costsew veil, it will be obliged to drag itself into the outer darkness, and pass slowly through the da e, the slumbering waters of ancient chaos. These wounded souls are the larvae of the second fomaio o the embryo; they nourish their airy bodies with a vapour of shed blood, and they fear the oin ofthesword. Frequently they attach themselves to vicious men and live upon their lives, as te emryo ivesin its mother's womb. In these circumstances, they are able to take the most horribl form to rpreset the frenzied desires of those who nourish them, and it is these which appear undr the iguresof demns to the wretched operators of the nameless works of black magic.
These larvae fear the light, above all the light of the mind. A flash of intelligence is sufficito destroy them as by a thunderbolt, and hurl them into that Dead Sea which one must not confuse ihte sea in Palestine so-called. All that we reveal in this place belongs to the tradition of sers ndcan only stand before science in the name of that exceptional philosophy, which Paracelsus alld te pilosophy of sagacity, "philosophia sagax."
CHAPTER IV
ARCANUM ARCANORUM
THE great arcanum --- that is to say, the unutterable and inexplicable secret --- is the absolutewledge of good and of evil.
"When you have eaten the fruit of this tree, you will be as the gods," said the Serpent.
{Illustration on page 285 described:
This is a pentagram with point down and a white ring in the center. At the ends of the points areck disks. The pentagram itself is black. There are words in white on the Disks, from the upper ih,clockwise: "DESPOTISME", MENSONCE", "NEANT", "IGNORANCE", "ABSURDITE". There are words in whie n hepoints, same order: "Contre toute Justice", "Contre toute verite", "Contre toute etre", "Cotretoue sience", "Contre toute raison". In the central ring in three lines: "SATAN EST LA HAINE"}
"If you eat of it, you will die," replied Divine Wisdom.
Thus good and evil bear fruit on one same tree, and from one same root.
Good personified is God.
Evil personified is the Devil.
To know the secret or the formula of God is to be God.
To know the secret or the formula of the Devil is to be the Devil. {285}
To wish to be at the same time God and Devil is to absorb in one's self the most absolute antinomhe two most strained contrary forces; it is the wish to shut up in one's self an infinite antagons. It is to drink a poison which would extinguish the suns and consume the worlds.<<An allusion to Sa,the patron of adepts, who drank the poison generated by the churning of the 'Milk Ocean.' (SeeBaavaa Purana Skandha VIII, Chaps. 5 - 12.) Levi therefore means in this passage the exact contrryofwhathe pretends to mean. Otherwise this "Be good, and you will be happy" chapter would scarcly eseve th title "Arcanum Arcanorum." --- O.M.>>
{Illustration on page 286 described:
This is a pentagram with an upright isosceles triangle in the midst, lower angles touching the two l inner angles of the pentagram. There are white disks touching the points from the outside. Thepnaram is white and circumscribed by a nimbus having five white wedge-rays coming from the inner ngesan opening at the outer edge of the nimbus. The white disks have each a thin nimbus without aysandthefollowing words, clockwise from top: "CHARITE", "MYSTERE", "SACRIFICE", "PROVIDENCE", "PRFECION" Th points have the following text inside, set in script type, same order: "au dessus detout tre","au dssus de toute science", "au dessus de toute justice", "au dessus de toute raison","au desus detoute dee". In the central triangle are three lines with the words: "DIEU EST Yod-He-Vau-He-Aleph-eh-Yod-eh.}
It is to put on the consuming robe of Deianira.
It is to devote one's self to the promptest and most terrible of all deaths.
Woe to him who wishes to know too much! For if excessive and rash knowledge does not kill him itl make him mad. {286}
To eat the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, is to associate evil with good, and ailate the one to the other.
It is to cover the radiant countenance of Osiris with the mask of Typhon.
It is to raise the sacred veil of Isis; it is to profane the sanctuary.
{Illustration on page 287 described:
This is in shape exactly the same as the illustration on page 282, save that there are words in the wedge rays and there is no triangle in the center. Instead, the sides of the pentagram are extene sdotted lines to form an inverse pentagon. The white disks have the following text, clockwise ro tp:"INTELLIGENCE", "PROGRES", "AMOUR", "SAGESSE", "LUMIERE". The points have the following tet, ameordr: "dans ses rapports avec l' etre", "dans ses rapports avec la science", "dans ses rapprts vec a jutice", "dans ses rapports avec la raison", "dans ses rapports avec la verite". The rys hae thefolloing text, clockwise from upper right: "Genie", "Enthousiasme", "Harmonie", "Beaute, "Recitude" The ollowing words are in the center, in three rows: "L'ESPRIT SAINT EST".}
The rash man who dares to look at the sun without protection becomes blind, and from that moment him the sun is black.
We are forbidden to say more on this subject; we shall conclude our revelation by the figure of t pentacles.
These three stars will explain it sufficiently. They may be compared with that which we have cauto be drawn at the head of our "History of magic." By reuniting the four, one may arrive at the udrtnding of the Great Arcanum of Arcana. {287}
It now remains for us to complete our work by giving the great key of William Postel.
{Illustration on page 288 described:
This is bounded by a rectangle with height about twice width. The center of the illustration is comd of a hexagram of two triangles, points to top and bottom. This is circumscribed by a dark ringadsrmounts concentric rings inward from the outer one as white, dark, white, dark --- at which pontth iner angles of the hexagram begin. The upper triangle of the hexagram is light and containsa bardd hman head and shoulders at top, feet with draped legs to the lower points. The down-wardpoining rianle has the same in dark with a matching dark figure. Surmounting the center of the hxagra and ompleely obscuring bodies and arms is the classic Roman Agricultural magical square of ive lies: SAOR, ARPO, TENET, OPERA, ROTAS. The outer points of the hexagram extend lines radiall to irrgularlydivide he space to the rectangular border, upper and lower points excepted. Above he upperpoint ar the wors "Keter Pole arctique" and there is a nob at that spot with a line pulld diagonaly upwardto the let by an eagle, facing counter clockwise. Above the eagle is the word NETSAH", t the right"L Air". he line from the upper right point has "l' Ete" above it and the fiure of a wiged lion beow, facing utward and progressing upward. The lion has "HOD" written to th right of it head and vetically exteded left foreleg, "Le Feu" below its tail and downwardly exteded right hin leg. The lie from the loer right point is below this figure, and "l' Automne" is blow this line.The line from he upper left oint has "les Printemps" written above it. Below this i a bull, no wins and facing donward. "JESOD"is above the bull's tail, and "La Terre" is below th head. Next belw is the line frm the lower leftpoint, with "l' hiver" below that. Below the lowr point are the wrds "Pole antartiue" and "L' eau". There is a nob at that spot, with a winged anel facing right an pulling the nob wth a diagonally donward line to the right. "MALCHVT" is writen below the Angel. The letters "HB:Yo" "HB:Heh " "HB:Vau" "HB:Heh " are picked out by dots with hree clustered radia dashes in or near te four corners, staring with the upper right (clockwise o counter-clockwise maes no difference). Tese dot-letters are te late Medieval style, and either epresent stars or fire. The Hebrew letters re formed by straight ine segments connecting the dot. The Hay's have threedots to the upper bar: nds and center with thedashes to the top. The vertcals on the Hays have thee dots and join the uppr bar to add a fourth, wth the three having theirdashes facing outward. Te Yod is composed of two ines, dots at ends and inersection. Dashes at op vertical, center dot dahes to the right and lowerdot dashes to left. The Vu has three dots, eds and center with dashes i same directions as the Vau The figure is completed b two lines of flurished symbols at the botto: Larger upper line looks lie: 3 or h (bottom end of corer Vau) Z P 7R 3(or h) 4 (reversed), but i intended to represent the seen planets starting with Satun and endig with Jupiter.. The smaller ower line looks like: M Z P Z (or h) N 7 M N 3(or h) F (revesed) N,but is intended to represent th twelve signs of the Zodiac. Tese symbols are somewhat doubtfl inidentity, owing to the obscuratin of using letter and number shaes to conceal the standard Astrooical symbols and to the jumbled squence.}
This key is that of the Tarot. There are four suits, wands, caps,{sic} swords, coins or pentacleorresponding to the four cardinal points of Heaven, and the four living creatures or symbolic sigsadnumbers and letters formed in a circle; then the seven planetary signs, with the indication ofthirreetition signified by the three colours, to symbolize the natural world, the human world andthedivne orld, whose {288} hieroglyphic emblems compose the twenty-one trumps of our Tarot.
In the centre of the ring may be perceived the double triangle forming the Star or Seal of SolomoWEH NOTE: This is the classic mis-identification. The seal is that of David in Jewish lore, Solomnhvng the five-pointed star.>> It is the religious and metaphysical triad analogous to the naturl rid f universal generation in the equilibrated substance.
Around the triangle is the cross which divides the circle into four equal<<WEH NOTE: Nowhere nearr equal, Postal's drawing intends to merge the six with the four.>> parts, and thus the symbols o eiion are united to the signs of geometry; faith completes science, and science acknowledge fait.
By the aid of this key one can understand the universal symbolism of the ancient world, and note striking analogies with our dogmas. One will thus recognize that the divine revelation is permann nnature and humanity. One will feel that Christianity only brought light and heat into the unieralteple by causing to descend therein the spirit of charity, which is the Very Life of God Himslf.
EPILOGUE
Thanks be unto thee, O my God, that thou hast called me to this admirable light! Thou, the Suprentelligence and the Absolute Life of those numbers and those forces which obey thee in order to pol he infinite with inexhaustible creation! Mathematics proves thee, the harmonies of Nature prolam he, all forms as they pass by salute thee and adore thee!
Abraham knew thee, Hermes divined thee, Pythagoras calculated thee, Plato, in every dream of his us, aspired to {289} thee; but only one initiate, only one sage has revealed thee to the childreno ath, one alone could say of thee: "I and my Father are one." Glory then be his, since all his loy s hine!
Thou knowest, O my Father, that he who writes these lines has struggled much and suffered much; hs endured poverty, calumny, proscription, prison, the forsaking of those whom he loved: --- and ytnvr did he find himself unhappy, since truth and justice remained to him for consolation!
Thou alone art holy, O God of true hearts and upright souls, and thou knowest if ever I thought mf pure in thy sight! Like all men I have been the plaything of human passions. At last I conquee hm, or rather thou has conquered them in me; and thou hast given me for a rest the deep peace o tos wo have no goal and no ambition but Thyself.
I love humanity, because men, as far as they are not insensate, are never wicked but through erro through weakness. Their natural disposition is to love good, and it is through that love that to at given them as a support in all their trials that they must sooner or later be led back to th wrsipof justice by the love of truth.
Now let my books go where thy Providence shall send them! If they contain the words of thy wisdoey will be stronger than oblivion. If, on the contrary, they contain only errors, I know at leas htmy love of justice and of truth will survive them, and that thus immortality cannot fail to trasreth aspirations and wishes of my soul hat thou didst create immortal! {290}
CONTENTS
PAGE
TRANSLATORS NOTE . . . . . . v
INTRODUCTION. . . . . . . . vii
PREFACE . . . . . . . . . . xi
PART I (RELIGIOUS MYSTERIES) . . . . . . 1
PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS . . . . . . 1
FIRST ARTICLE . . . . . . . . 12
SKETCH OF THE PROPHETIC THEOLOGY OF NUMBERS . . . 14
ARTICLE II . . . . . . . . 72
ARTICLE III . . . . . . . . 77
ARTICLE IV . . . . . . . . 82
ARTICLE V . . . . . . . . 89
RESUME OF PART I . . . . . . . 91
PART II (PHILOSOPHICAL MYSTERIES) . . . . . 98
PART III (MYSTERIES OF NATURE). . . . . . 108
FIRST BOOK CHAPTER I . . . . . . . 110
CHAPTER II. . . . . . . 117
CHAPTER III . . . . . . 127
CHAPTER IV . . . . . . 226
BOOK II CHAPTER I . . . . . . . 234
CHAPTER II . . . . . . 239
CHAPTER III . . . . . . 244
CHAPTER IV . . . . . . 256
PART IV (PRACTICAL SECRETS) INTRODUCTION . . . 267
CHAPTER I . . . . . . 270
CHAPTER II . . . . . . 274
CHAPTER III . . . . . . 281
CHAPTER IV . . . . . . 285
EPILOGUE . . . . . . 289
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