thing as death, where the very molecules of the dead body manifest an
intense vital energy. If death is but the stoppage of a digesting,
locomotive, and thought-grinding machine, how can death be actual
and not relative, before that machine is thoroughly broken up and
its particles dispersed? So long as any of them cling together, the
centripetal vital force may overmatch the dispersive centrifugal
action. Says Eliphas Levi: “Change attests movement, and movement only
reveals life. The corpse would not decompose if it were dead; all the
molecules which compose it are living and struggle to separate. And
would you think that the spirit frees itself first of all to exist no
more? That thought and love can die when the grossest forms of matter
do not die? If the change should be called death, we die and are born
again every day, for every day our forms undergo change.”[727]
The kabalists say that a man is not dead when his body is entombed.
Death is never sudden; for, according to Hermes, nothing goes in nature
by violent transitions. Everything is gradual, and as it required a
long and gradual development to produce the living human being, so time
is required to completely withdraw vitality from the carcass.“ Death
can no more be an absolute end, than birth a real beginning. Birth
proves the preëxistence of the being, as death proves immortality,”
says the same French kabalist.
While implicitly believing in the restoration of the daughter of
Jairus, the ruler of the synagogue, and in other Bible-miracles,
well-educated Christians, who otherwise would feel indignant at being
called superstitious, meet all such cases as that of Apollonius and the
girl said by his biographer to have been recalled to life by him, with
scornful skepticism. Diogenes Laërtius, who mentions a woman restored
to life by Empedocles, is treated with no more respect; and the name of
Pagan thaumaturgist, in the eyes of Christians, is but a synonym for
impostor. Our scientists are at least one degree more rational; they
embrace all Bible prophets and apostles, and the heathen miracle-doers
in two categories of hallucinated fools and deceitful tricksters.
But Christians and materialists might, with a very little effort {481}
on their part, show themselves fair and logical at the same time.
To produce such a miracle, they have but to consent to understand
what they read, and submit it to the unprejudiced criticism of their
best judgment. Let us see how far it is possible. Setting aside the
incredible fiction of Lazarus, we will select two cases: the ruler’s
daughter, recalled to life by Jesus, and the Corinthian bride,
resuscitated by Apollonius. In the former case, totally disregarding
the significant expression of Jesus—“_She is not dead but sleepeth_,”
the clergy force their god to become a breaker of his own laws and
grant unjustly to one what he denies to all others, and with no better
object in view than to produce a useless miracle. In the second case,
notwithstanding the words of the biographer of Apollonius, so plain
and precise that there is not the slightest cause to misunderstand
them, they charge Philostratus with deliberate imposture. Who could be
fairer than he, who less open to the charge of mystification, when, in
describing the resuscitation of the young girl by the Tyanian sage, in
the presence of a large concourse of people, the biographer says, “she
had _seemed_ to die.”
In other words, he very clearly indicates a case of suspended
animation; and then adds immediately, “as the rain fell very fast on
the young girl,” while she was being carried to the pile, “with her
face turned upwards, this, _also_, might have excited her senses.”[728]
Does this not show most plainly that Philostratus saw _no_ miracle in
that resuscitation? Does it not rather imply, if anything, the great
learning and skill of Apollonius, “who like Asclepiades had the merit
of distinguishing at a glance between real and apparent death?”[729]
A resuscitation, after the soul and spirit have entirely separated from
the body, and the last electric thread is severed, is as impossible as
for a once disembodied spirit to reïncarnate itself once more on this
earth, except as described in previous chapters. “A leaf, once fallen
off, does not reättach itself to the branch,” says Eliphas Levi. “The
caterpillar becomes a butterfly, but the butterfly does not again
return to the grub. Nature closes the door behind all that passes, and
pushes life forward. Forms pass, thought remains, and does not recall
that which it has once exhausted.”[730]
Why should it be imagined that Asclepiades and Apollonius enjoyed
exceptional powers for the discernment of actual death? Has any modern
school of medicine this knowledge to impart to its students? Let their
authorities answer for them. These prodigies of Jesus and Apollonius {482}
are so well attested that they appear authentic. Whether in either or
both cases life was simply suspended or not, the important fact remains
that by some power, peculiar to themselves, both the wonder-workers
recalled the _seemingly dead_ to life in an instant.[731]
Is it because the modern physician has not yet found the secret which
the theurgists evidently possessed that its possibility is denied?
Neglected as psychology now is, and with the strangely chaotic state
in which physiology is confessed to be by its most fair students,
certainly it is not very likely that our men of science will soon
rediscover the lost knowledge of the ancients. In the days of old,
when prophets were not treated as charlatans, nor thaumaturgists as
impostors, there were colleges instituted for teaching prophecy and
occult sciences in general. Samuel is recorded as the chief of such an
institution at Ramah; Elisha, also, at Jericho. The schools of _hazim_,
prophets or seers, were celebrated throughout the country. Hillel had a
regular academy, and Socrates is well known to have sent away several
of his disciples to study _manticism_. The study of magic, or wisdom,
included every branch of science, the metaphysical as well as the
physical, psychology and physiology in their common and occult phases,
and the study of alchemy was universal, for it was both a physical and
a spiritual science. Therefore why doubt or wonder that the ancients,
who studied nature under its double aspect, achieved discoveries which
to our modern physicists, who study but its dead letter, are a closed
book?
Thus, the question at issue is not whether a _dead_ body can be
resuscitated—for, to assert that would be to assume the possibility
of a miracle, which is absurd—but, to assure ourselves whether the
medical authorities pretend to determine the precise moment of death.
The kabalists say that death occurs at the instant when both the astral
body, or life-principle, and the spirit part forever with the corporeal
body. The scientific physician who denies both astral body and spirit,
and admits the existence of nothing more than the life-principle,
judges death to occur when life is apparently extinct. When the beating
of the heart and the action of the lungs cease, and _rigor mortis_ is
manifested, and especially when decomposition begins, they pronounce
the patient dead. But the annals of medicine teem with examples of {483}
“suspended animation” as the result of asphyxia by drowning, the
inhalation of gases and other causes; life being restored in the case
of drowning persons even after they had been apparently dead for twelve
hours.
In cases of somnambulic trance, none of the ordinary signs of death
are lacking; breathing and the pulse are extinct; animal-heat has
disappeared; the muscles are rigid, the eye glazed, and the body is
colorless. In the celebrated case of Colonel Townshend, he threw
himself into this state in the presence of three medical men; who,
after a time, were persuaded that he was really dead, and were about
leaving the room, when he slowly revived. He describes his peculiar
gift by saying that he “could die or expire when he pleased, and yet,
by an effort, or _somehow_, he could come to life again.”
There occurred in Moscow, a few years since, a remarkable instance of
apparent death. The wife of a wealthy merchant lay in the cataleptic
state seventeen days, during which the authorities made several
attempts to bury her; but, as decomposition had not set in, the family
averted the ceremony, and at the end of that time she was restored to
life.
The above instances show that the most learned men in the medical
profession are unable to be certain when a person is dead. What they
call “suspended animation,” is that state from which the patient
spontaneously recovers, through an effort of his own spirit, which
may be provoked by any one of many causes. In these cases, the astral
body has not parted from the physical body; its external functions
are simply suspended; the subject is in a state of torpor, and the
restoration is nothing but a recovery from it.
But, in the case of what physiologists would call “real death,” but
which is not actually so, the astral body has withdrawn; perhaps local
decomposition has set in. How shall the man be brought to life again?
The answer is, the interior body must be forced back into the exterior
one, and vitality reawakened in the latter. The clock has run down,
it must be wound. If death is absolute; if the organs have not only
ceased to act, but have lost the susceptibility of renewed action, then
the whole universe would have to be thrown into chaos to resuscitate
the corpse—a miracle would be demanded. But, as we said before, the
man is not dead when he is cold, stiff, pulseless, breathless, and
even showing signs of decomposition; he is not dead when buried, nor
afterward, until a certain point is reached. That point is, _when
the vital organs have become so decomposed, that if reänimated, they
could not perform their customary functions_; when the mainspring and
cogs of the machine, so to speak, are so eaten away by rust, that
they would snap upon the turning of the key. Until that point is
reached, the astral body may be caused, without miracle, to reënter {484}
its former tabernacle, either by an effort of its own will, or under
the resistless impulse of the will of one who knows the potencies of
nature and how to direct them. The spark is not extinguished, but only
latent—latent as the fire in the flint, or the heat in the cold iron.
In cases of the most profound cataleptic clairvoyance, such as obtained
by Du Potet, and described very graphically by the late Prof. William
Gregory, in his _Letters on Animal Magnetism_, the spirit is so
far disengaged from the body that it would be impossible for it to
re-enter it without an effort of the mesmerizer’s will. The subject
is practically dead, and, if left to itself, the spirit would escape
forever. Although independent of the torpid physical casing, the
half-freed spirit is still tied to it by a magnetic cord, which is
described by clairvoyants as appearing dark and smoky by contrast with
the ineffable brightness of the astral atmosphere through which they
look. Plutarch, relating the story of Thespesius, who fell from a great
height, and lay three days apparently dead, gives us the experience
of the latter during his state of partial decease. “Thespesius,” says
he, “then observed that he was different from the dead by whom he was
surrounded.... They were transparent and environed by a radiance, but
he seemed to trail after him a dark radiation or line of shadow.” His
whole description, minute and circumstantial in its details, appears
to be corroborated by the clairvoyants of every period, and, so far as
this class of testimony can be taken, is important. The kabalists, as
we find them interpreted by Eliphas Levi, in his _Science des Esprits_,
say that, “When a man falls into the last sleep, he is plunged at first
into a sort of dream, before gaining consciousness in the other side
of life. He sees, then, either in a beautiful vision, or in a terrible
nightmare, the paradise or hell, in which he believed during his mortal
existence. This is why it often happens, that the affrighted soul
breaks violently back into the terrestrial life it has just left, and
why some who were really dead, _i. e._, who, if left alone and quiet,
would have peaceably passed away forever in a state of unconscious
lethargy, when entombed too soon, reäwake to life in the grave.”
In this connection, the reader may perhaps recall the well-known case
of the old man who had left some generous gifts in his will to his
orphaned nieces; which document, just before his death, he had confided
to his rich son, with injunctions to carry out his wishes. But, he had
not been dead more than a few hours before the son, finding himself
alone with the corpse, tore the will and burned it. The sight of this
impious deed apparently recalled the hovering spirit, and the old man,
rising from his couch of death, uttered a fierce malediction upon the
horror-stricken wretch, and then fell back again, and yielded up his
spirit—this time forever. Dion Boucicault makes use of an incident of {485}
this kind in his powerful drama _Louis XI._; and Charles Kean created
a profound impression in the character of the French monarch, when
the dead man revives for an instant and clutches the crown as the
heir-apparent approaches it.
Levi says that resuscitation is not impossible while the vital
organism remains undestroyed, and the astral spirit is yet within
reach. “Nature,” he says, “accomplishes nothing by sudden jerks, and
eternal death is always preceded by a state which partakes somewhat
of the nature of lethargy. It is a torpor which a great shock or the
magnetism of a powerful will can overcome.” He accounts in this manner
for the resuscitation of the dead man thrown upon the bones of Elisha.
He explains it by saying that the soul was hovering at that moment
near the body; the burial party, according to tradition, were attacked
by robbers; and their fright communicating itself sympathetically to
it, the soul was seized with horror at the idea of its remains being
desecrated, and “reëntered violently into its body to raise and save
it.” Those who believe in the survival of the soul can see in this
incident nothing of a supernatural character—it is only a perfect
manifestation of natural law. To narrate to the materialist such a
case, however well attested, would be but an idle talk; the theologian,
always looking beyond nature for a special providence, regards it as a
prodigy. Eliphas Levi says: “They attributed the resuscitation to the
contact with the bones of Elisha; and worship of relics dates logically
from his epoch.”
Balfour Stewart is right—scientists “know nothing, or next to nothing,
of the ultimate structure and properties of matter, whether organic or
inorganic.”
We are now on such firm ground, that we will take another step in
advance. _The same knowledge and control of the occult forces,
including the vital force which enabled the fakir temporarily to leave
and then reënter his body, and Jesus, Apollonius, and Elisha to recall
their several subjects to life, made it possible for the ancient
hierophants to animate statues, and cause them to act and speak like
living creatures._ It is the same knowledge and power which made it
possible for Paracelsus to create his homunculi; for Aaron to change
his rod into a serpent and a budding branch; Moses to cover Egypt with
frogs and other pests; and the Egyptian theurgist of our day to vivify
his pigmy Mandragora, which has physical life but no soul. It was no
more wonderful that upon presenting the necessary conditions Moses
should call into life large reptiles and insects, than that, under like
favoring conditions, the physical scientist should call into life the
small ones which he names bacteria.
And now, in connection with ancient miracle-doers and prophets, let us
bring forward the claims of the modern mediums. Nearly every form of
phenomena recorded in the sacred and profane histories of the world {486}
we find them claiming to reproduce in our days. Selecting, among
the variety of seeming wonders, levitation of ponderable inanimate
objects as well as of human bodies, we will give our attention to the
conditions under which the phenomenon is manifested. History records
the names of Pagan theurgists, Christian saints, Hindu fakirs, and
spiritual mediums who have been thus levitated, and who remained
suspended in the air, sometimes for a considerable time. The phenomenon
has not been confined to one country or epoch, but almost invariably
the subjects have been religious ecstatics, adepts in magic, or, as
now, spiritual mediums.
We assume the fact to be so well established as to require no labored
effort on our part at this time to furnish proof that unconscious
manifestations of spirit-power, as well as conscious feats of
high magic, have happened in all countries, in all ages, and with
hierophants as well as through irresponsible mediums. When the present
perfected European civilization was yet in an inchoate state, occult
philosophy, already hoary with age, speculated upon the attributes of
man by analogy with those of his Creator. Individuals later, whose
names will remain forever immortal, inscribed on the portal of the
spiritual history of man, have afforded in their persons examples of
how far could be developed the godlike powers of the _microcosmos_.
Describing the _Doctrines and Principal Teachers of the Alexandrian
School_, Professor A. Wilder says: “Plotinus taught that there was in
the soul a returning impulse, love, which attracted it inward toward
its origin and centre, the eternal good. While the person who does not
understand how the soul contains the beautiful within itself will seek
by laborious effort to realize beauty without, the wise man recognizes
it within himself, develops the idea by withdrawal into himself,
concentrating his attention, and so floating upward toward the divine
fountain, the stream of which flows within him. The infinite is not
known through the reason ... but by a faculty superior to reason, by
entering upon a state in which the individual, so to speak, ceases to
be his finite self, in which state divine essence is communicated to
him. This is ECSTASY.”
Of Apollonius, who asserted that he could see “the present and the
future in a clear mirror,” on account of his abstemious mode of life,
the professor very beautifully observes: “This is what may be termed
_spiritual photography_. The soul is the camera in which facts and
events, future, past, and present, are alike fixed; and the mind
becomes conscious of them. Beyond our every-day world of limits, all is
as one day or state, the past and future comprised in the present.”[732]
Were these God-like men “mediums,” as the orthodox spiritualists {487}
will have it? By no means, if by the term we understand those
“sick-sensitives” who are born with a peculiar organization, and who in
proportion as their powers are developed become more and more subject
to the irresistible influence of miscellaneous spirits, purely human,
elementary, or elemental. Unquestionably so, if we consider every
individual a medium in whose magnetic atmosphere the denizens of higher
invisible spheres can move, and act, and live. In such a sense every
person is a medium. Mediumship may be either 1st, self-developed; 2d,
by extraneous influences; or 3d, may remain latent throughout life.
_The reader must bear in mind the definition of the term, for, unless
this is clearly understood, confusion will be inevitable._ Mediumship
of this kind may be either active or passive, repellent or receptive,
positive or negative. Mediumship is measured by the quality of the aura
with which the individual is surrounded. This may be dense, cloudy,
noisome, mephitic, nauseating to the pure spirit, and attract only
those foul beings who delight in it, as the eel does in turbid waters,
or, it may be pure, crystalline, limpid, opalescent as the morning dew.
All depends upon the moral character of the medium.
About such men as Apollonius, Iamblichus, Plotinus, and Porphyry, there
gathered this heavenly nimbus. It was evolved by the power of their own
souls in close unison with their spirits; by the superhuman morality
and sanctity of their lives, and aided by frequent interior ecstatic
contemplation. Such holy men pure spiritual influences could approach.
Radiating around an atmosphere of divine beneficence, they caused evil
spirits to flee before them. Not only is it not possible for such to
exist in their aura, but they cannot even remain in that of obsessed
persons, if the thaumaturgist exercises his will, or even approaches
them. This is MEDIATORSHIP, not _mediumship_. Such persons are temples
in which dwells the spirit of the living God; but if the temple is
defiled by the admission of an evil passion, thought or desire, the
mediator falls into the sphere of sorcery. The door is opened; the pure
spirits retire and the evil ones rush in. This is still mediatorship,
evil as it is; the sorcerer, like the pure magician, forms his own aura
and subjects to his will congenial inferior spirits.
But mediumship, as now understood and manifested, is a different
thing. Circumstances, independent of his own volition, may, either
at birth or subsequently, modify a person’s aura, so that strange
manifestations, physical or mental, diabolical or angelic, may take
place. Such mediumship, as well as the above-mentioned mediatorship,
has existed on earth since the first appearance here of living man.
The former is the yielding of weak, mortal flesh to the control
and suggestions of spirits and intelligences other than one’s own {488}
immortal demon. It is literally _obsession_ and _possession_; and
mediums who pride themselves on being the faithful slaves of their
“guides,” and who repudiate with indignation the idea of “controlling”
the manifestations, “could not very well deny the fact without
inconsistency. This mediumship is typified in the story of Eve
succumbing to the reasonings of the serpent; of Pandora peeping in the
forbidden casket and letting loose on the world, sorrow and evil, and
by Mary Magdalene, who from having been obsessed by ‘seven devils’ was
finally redeemed by the triumphant struggle of her immortal spirit,
touched by the presence of a holy mediator, against the dweller.” This
mediumship, whether beneficent or maleficent, is always _passive_.
Happy are the pure in heart, who repel unconsciously, by that very
cleanness of their inner nature, the dark spirits of evil. For verily
they have no other weapons of defense but that inborn goodness and
purity. Mediumism, as practiced in our days, is a more undesirable gift
than the robe of Nessus.
“The tree is known by its fruits.” Side by side with passive mediums
in the progress of the world’s history, appear active mediators. We
designate them by this name for lack of a better one. The ancient
witches and wizards, and those who had a “familiar spirit,” generally
made of their gifts a trade; and the Obeah woman of En-Dor, so well
defined by Henry More, though she may have killed her calf for Saul,
accepted hire from other visitors. In India, the jugglers, who by
the way are less so than many a modern medium, and the _Essaoua_ or
sorcerers and serpent-charmers of Asia and Africa, all exercise their
gifts for money. Not so with the mediators, or hierophants. Buddha was
a mendicant and refused his father’s throne. The “Son of Man had not
where to lay his head;” the chosen apostles provided “neither gold, nor
silver, nor brass in their purses.” Apollonius gave one half of his
fortune to his relatives, the other half to the poor; Iamblichus and
Plotinus were renowned for charity and self-denial; the fakirs, or holy
mendicants, of India are fairly described by Jacolliot; the Pythagorean
Essenes and Therapeutæ believed their hands defiled by the contact of
money. When the apostles were offered money to impart their spiritual
powers, Peter, notwithstanding that the Bible shows him a coward and
thrice a renegade, still indignantly spurned the offer, saying: “Thy
money perish with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of God
may be purchased with money.” These men were mediators, guided merely
by their own personal spirit, or divine soul, and availing themselves
of the help of spirits but so far as these remain in the right path.
Far from us be the thought of casting an unjust slur on physical
mediums. Harassed by various intelligences, reduced by the {489}
overpowering influence—which their weak and nervous natures are unable
to shake off—to a morbid state, which at last becomes chronic, they
are impeded by these “influences” from undertaking other occupation.
They become mentally and physically unfit for any other. Who can judge
them harshly when, driven to the last extremity, they are constrained
to accept mediumship as a business? And heaven knows, as recent events
have too well proved, whether the calling is one to be envied by any
one! It is not mediums, real, _true_, and genuine mediums that we would
ever blame, but their patrons, the spiritualists.
Plotinus, when asked to attend public worship of the gods, is said
to have proudly answered: “It is for them (the spirits) to come to
me.” Iamblichus asserted and proved in his own case, that our soul
can attain communion with the highest intelligences, with “natures
loftier than itself,” and carefully drove away from his theurgical
ceremonies[733] every inferior spirit, or bad dæmon, which he taught
his disciples to recognize. Proclus, who “elaborated the entire
theosophy and theurgy of his predecessors into a complete system,”[734]
according to Professor Wilder, “believed with Iamblichus in the
attaining of a divine power, which, overcoming the mundane life,
rendered the individual an organ of the Deity.” He even taught that
there was a “mystic password that would carry a person from one order
of spiritual beings to another, higher and higher, till he arrived at
the absolute divine.” Apollonius spurned the sorcerers and “common
soothsayers,” and declared that it was his “peculiar abstemious mode
of life” which “produced such an acuteness of the senses and created
other faculties, so that the greatest and most remarkable things can
take place.” Jesus declared man _the lord of the Sabbath_, and at
his command the terrestrial and elementary spirits fled from their
temporary abodes; a power which was shared by Apollonius and many of
the Brotherhood of the Essenes of Judea and Mount Carmel.
It is undeniable that there must have been some good reasons why the
ancients persecuted _unregulated_ mediums. Otherwise why, at the time
of Moses and David and Samuel, should they have encouraged prophecy
and divination, astrology and soothsaying, and maintained schools and
colleges in which these natural gifts were strengthened and developed,
while witches and those who divined by the spirit of _Ob_ were put to
death? Even at the time of Christ, the poor oppressed mediums were
driven to the tombs and waste places without the city walls. Why this
apparent gross injustice? Why should banishment, persecution, and
death be the portion of the physical mediums of those days, and whole {490}
communities of thaumaturgists—like the Essenes—be not merely tolerated
but revered? It is because the ancients, unlike ourselves, could “try”
the spirits and discern the difference between the good and the evil
ones, the human and the elemental. They also knew that unregulated
spirit intercourse brought ruin upon the individual and disaster to the
community.
This view of mediumship may be novel and perhaps repugnant to many
modern spiritualists; but still it is the view taught in the ancient
philosophy, and supported by the experience of mankind from time
immemorial.
It is erroneous to speak of a medium having _powers_ developed. A
passive medium has no power. He has a certain moral and physical
condition which induces emanations, or an aura, in which his
controlling intelligences can live, and by which they manifest
themselves. He is only the vehicle through which _they_ display their
power. This aura varies day by day, and, as would appear from Mr.
Crookes’ experiments, even hour by hour. It is an external effect
resulting from interior causes. The medium’s moral state determines
the kind of spirits that come; and the spirits that come reciprocally
influence the medium, intellectually, physically, and morally.
The perfection of his mediumship is in ratio to his passivity,
and the danger he incurs is in equal degree. When he is fully
“developed” perfectly passive—his own astral spirit may be benumbed, and
even crowded out of his body, which is then occupied by an elemental,
or, what is worse, by a human fiend of the eighth sphere, who proceeds
to use it as his own. But too often the cause of the most celebrated
crime is to be sought in such possessions.
Physical mediumship depending upon passivity, its antidote suggests
itself naturally; _let the medium cease being passive_. Spirits never
control persons of positive character who are determined to resist
all extraneous influences. The weak and feeble-minded whom they can
make their victims they drive into vice. If these miracle-making
elementals and disembodied devils called elementary were indeed the
guardian angels that they have passed for, these last thirty years,
why have they not given their faithful mediums at least good health
and domestic happiness? Why do they desert them at the most critical
moments of trial when under accusations of fraud? It is notorious
that the best physical mediums are either sickly or, sometimes, what
is still worse, inclined to some abnormal vice or other. Why do not
these healing “guides,” who make their mediums play the therapeutists
and thaumaturgists to others, give them the boon of robust physical
vigor? The ancient thaumaturgist and apostle, generally, if not
invariably, enjoyed good health; their magnetism never conveyed to the
sick patient any physical or moral taint; and they never were accused {491}
of VAMPIRISM, which a spiritual paper very justly charges upon some
medium-healers.[735]
If we apply the above law of mediumship and mediatorship to the subject
of levitation, with which we opened our present discussion, what
shall we find? Here we have a medium and one of the mediator-class
levitated—the former at a seance, the latter at prayer, or in ecstatic
contemplation. The medium being passive must _be lifted_ up; the
ecstatic being active must levitate himself. The former is elevated by
his familiar spirits—whoever or whatever they may be—the latter, by the
power of his own aspiring soul. Can both be indiscriminately termed
_mediums_?
But nevertheless we may be answered that the same phenomena are
produced in the presence of a modern medium as of an ancient saint.
Undoubtedly; and so it was in the days of Moses; for we believe that
the triumph claimed for him in _Exodus_ over Pharaoh’s magicians is
simply a national boast on the part of the “chosen people.” That the
power which produced his phenomena produced that of the magicians also,
who were moreover the first tutors of Moses and instructed him in their
“wisdom,” is most probable. But even in those days they seemed to have
well appreciated the difference between phenomena apparently identical.
The tutelar national deity of the Hebrews (who is _not_ the Highest
Father)[736] forbids expressly, in _Deuteronomy_,[737] his people
“to learn to do after the abominations of other nations.... To pass
through _the fire_, or use _divination_, or be an observer of times or
an enchanter, or a witch, or a consulter _with familiar spirits_, or a
necromancer.”
What difference was there then between all the above-enumerated
phenomena as performed by the “other nations” and when enacted by the
prophets? Evidently, there was some good reason for it; and we find
it in John’s _First Epistle_, iv., which says: “believe not _every_
spirit, but _try_ the spirits, whether they are of God, because many
false prophets are gone out into the world.”
The only standard within the reach of spiritualists and present-day {492}
mediums by which they can _try_ the spirits, is to judge 1, by their
actions and speech; 2, by their readiness to manifest themselves;
and 3, whether the object in view is worthy of the apparition of a
“_disembodied_” spirit, or can excuse any one for disturbing _the
dead_. Saul was on the eve of destruction, himself and his sons, yet
Samuel inquired of him: “Why hast thou _disquieted_ me, to bring me
up?”[738] But the “intelligences” that visit the circle-rooms, come at
the beck of every trifler who would while away a tedious hour.
In the number of the _London Spiritualist_ for July 14th, we find a
long article, in which the author seeks to prove that “the marvellous
wonders of the present day, which belong to so-called modern
spiritualism, are identical in character with the experiences of the
patriarchs and apostles of old.”
We are forced to contradict, point-blank, such an assertion. They
are identical only so far that the same forces and occult powers of
nature produce them. But though these powers and forces may be, and
most assuredly are, all directed by unseen intelligences, the latter
differ more in essence, character, and purposes than mankind itself,
composed, as it now stands, of white, black, brown, red, and yellow
men, and numbering saints and criminals, geniuses and idiots. The
writer may avail himself of the services of a tame orang-outang or a
South Sea islander; but the fact alone that he has a servant makes
neither the latter nor himself identical with Aristotle and Alexander.
The writer compares Ezekiel “lifted up” and taken into the “east gate
of the Lord’s house,”[739] with the levitations of certain mediums,
and the three Hebrew youths in the “burning fiery furnace,” with other
_fire-proof_ mediums; the John King “spirit-light” is assimilated
with the “burning lamp” of Abraham; and finally, after many such
comparisons, the case of the Davenport Brothers, released from the jail
of Oswego, is confronted with that of Peter delivered from prison by
the “angel of the Lord!”
Now, except the story of Saul and Samuel, there is not a case
instanced in the _Bible_ of the “_evocation_ of the dead.” As to being
lawful, the assertion is contradicted by every prophet. Moses issues
a decree of death against those who raise the spirits of the dead,
the “necromancers.” Nowhere throughout the _Old Testament_, nor in
Homer, nor Virgil is communion with the dead termed otherwise than {493}
necromancy. Philo Judæus makes Saul say, that if he banishes from the
land every diviner and necromancer his name will survive him.
One of the greatest reasons for it was the doctrine of the ancients,
that no soul from the “abode of the blessed” will return to earth,
unless, indeed, upon rare occasions its apparition might be required
to accomplish some great object in view, and so bring benefit upon
humanity. In this latter instance the “soul” has no need to be
_evoked_. It sent its portentous message either by an evanescent
_simulacrum_ of itself, or through _messengers_, who could appear in
_material_ form, and personate faithfully the departed. The souls
that could so easily be evoked were deemed neither safe nor useful to
commune with. They were the souls, or _larvæ_ rather, from the infernal
region of the limbo—the _sheol_, the region known by the kabalists as
the eighth sphere, but far different from the orthodox Hell or Hades
of the ancient mythologists. Horace describes this evocation and the
ceremonial accompanying it, and Maimonides gives us particulars of the
Jewish rite. Every necromantic ceremony was performed on high places
and hills, and blood was used for the purpose of placating these human
_ghouls_.[740]
“I cannot prevent the witches from picking up their bones,” says the
poet. “See the blood they pour in the ditch to allure the _souls_ that
will utter their oracles!”[741] “_Cruor in fossam confusus, ut inde
manes elicirent, animas responsa daturas._”
“The _souls_,” says Porphyry, “prefer, to everything else,
_freshly-spilt blood_, which seems for a short time to restore to them
some of the faculties of life.”[742]
As for materializations, they are many and various in the sacred
records. But, were they effected under the same conditions as at modern
seances? Darkness, it appears, was not required in those days of
patriarchs and magic powers. The three angels who appeared to Abraham
drank in the full blaze of the sun, for “he sat in the tent-door _in
the heat of the day_,”[743] says the book of _Genesis_. The spirits of
Elias and Moses appeared equally in daytime, as it is not probable that
Christ and the Apostles would be climbing a high mountain during the
night. Jesus is represented as having appeared to Mary Magdalene in the
garden in the early morning; to the Apostles, at three distinct times,
and generally by day; once “when the morning was come” (_John_ xxi. 4).
Even when the ass of Balaam saw the “materialized” angel, it was in the
full light of noon.
We are fully prepared to agree with the writer in question, that we
find in the life of Christ—and we may add in the _Old Testament_, too— {494}
too—“an uninterrupted record of spiritualistic manifestations,” but
nothing _mediumistic_, of a physical character though, if we except
the visit of Saul to Sedecla, the Obeah woman of En-Dor. This is a
distinction of vital importance.
True, the promise of the Master was clearly stated: “Aye, and greater
works than these shall ye do” works of mediatorship. According to Joel,
the time would come when there would be an outpouring of the divine
spirit: “Your sons and your daughters,” says he, “shall prophesy, your
old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions.” The
time has come and they do all these things now; Spiritualism has its
seers and martyrs, its prophets and healers. Like Moses, and David,
and Jehoram, there are mediums who have direct writings from genuine
planetary and human spirits; and the best of it brings the mediums
no pecuniary recompense. The greatest friend of the cause in France,
Leymarie, now languishes in a prison-cell, and, as he says with
touching pathos, is “no longer a man, but a _number_” on the prison
register.
There are a few, a very few, orators on the spiritualistic platform
who speak by inspiration, and if they know what is said at all they
are in the condition described by Daniel: “And I retained no strength.
Yet heard I the voice of his words: and when I heard the voice of his
words, then was I in a deep sleep.”[744] And there are mediums, these
whom we have spoken of, for whom the prophecy in Samuel might have
been written: “The spirit of the Lord will come upon thee, thou shalt
prophesy with them, and shalt be _turned into another man_.”[745]
But where, in the long line of Bible-wonders, do we read of flying
guitars, and tinkling tambourines, and jangling bells being offered in
pitch-dark rooms as evidences of immortality?
When Christ was accused of casting out devils by the power of
Beelzebub, he denied it, and sharply retorted by asking, “By whom do
your sons or disciples cast them out?” Again, spiritualists affirm that
Jesus was a medium, that he was controlled by one or many spirits; but
when the charge was made to him direct he said that he was nothing
of the kind. “Say we not well, that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a
devil?” daimonion, an Obeah, or familiar spirit in the Hebrew text.
Jesus answered, “I have not a devil.”[746]
The writer from whom we have above quoted, attempts also a parallel
between the aerial flights of Philip and Ezekiel and of Mrs. Guppy and
other modern mediums. He is ignorant or oblivious of the fact that {495}
while levitation occurred as an effect in both classes of cases, the
producing causes were totally dissimilar. The nature of this difference
we have adverted to already. Levitation may be produced consciously
or unconsciously to the subject. The juggler determines beforehand
that he will be levitated, for how long a time, and to what height;
he regulates the occult forces accordingly. The fakir produces the
same effect by the power of his aspiration and will, and, except when
in the ecstatic state, keeps control over his movements. So does the
priest of Siam, when, in the sacred pagoda, he mounts fifty feet in the
air with taper in hand, and flits from idol to idol, lighting up the
niches, self-supported, and stepping as confidently as though he were
upon solid ground. This, persons have seen and testify to. The officers
of the Russian squadron which recently circumnavigated the globe, and
was stationed for a long time in Japanese waters, relate the fact that,
besides many other marvels, they saw jugglers walk in mid-air from
tree-top to tree-top, without the slightest support.[747] They also
saw the pole and tape-climbing feats, described by Colonel Olcott in
his _People from the Other World_, and which have been so much called
in question by certain spiritualists and mediums whose zeal is greater
than their learning. The quotations from Col. Yule and other writers,
elsewhere given in this work, seem to place the matter beyond doubt
that these effects are produced.
Such phenomena, when occurring apart from religious rites, in India,
Japan, Thibet, Siam, and other “heathen” countries, phenomena a hundred
times more various and astounding than ever seen in civilized Europe
or America, are never attributed to the spirits of the departed. The
Pitris have naught to do with such public exhibitions. And we have but
to consult the list of the principal demons or elemental spirits to
find that their very names indicate their professions, or, to express
it clearly, the tricks to which each variety is best adapted. So we
have the Mâdan, a generic name indicating wicked elemental spirits,
half brutes, half monsters, for Mâdan signifies one that looks like
a cow. He is the friend of the malicious sorcerers and helps them to
effect their evil purposes of revenge by striking men and cattle with
sudden illness and death.
The _Shudâla-Mâdan_, or graveyard fiend, answers to our ghouls. He
delights where crime and murder were committed, near burial-spots and
places of execution. He helps the juggler in all the fire-phenomena as
well as Kutti Shâttan, the little juggling imps. Shudâla, they say, is
a half-fire, half-water demon, for he received from Siva permission to
assume any shape he chose, transform one thing into another; and when {496}
he is not in fire, he is in water. It is he who blinds people “to see
that which _they do not_ see.” _Shûla Mâdan_, is another mischievous
spook. He is the _furnace_-demon, skilled in pottery and baking. If
you keep friends with him, he will not injure you; but woe to him who
incurs his wrath. Shûla likes compliments and flattery, and as he
generally keeps underground it is to him that a juggler must look to
help him raise a tree from a seed in a quarter of an hour and ripen its
fruit.
_Kumil-Mâdan_, is the _undine_ proper. He is an elemental spirit of the
water, and his name means _blowing like a bubble_. He is a very merry
imp; and will help a friend in anything relative to his department; he
will shower rain and show the future and the present to those who will
resort to hydromancy or divination by water.
_Poruthû Mâdan_, is the “wrestling” demon; he is the strongest of all;
and whenever there are feats shown in which physical force is required,
such as _levitations_, or taming of wild animals, he will help the
performer by keeping him above the soil or will overpower a wild beast
before the tamer has time to utter his incantation. So, every “physical
manifestation” has its own class of elemental spirits to superintend
them.
Returning now to levitations of human bodies and inanimate bodies,
in modern circle-rooms, we must refer the reader to the Introductory
chapter of this work. (See “Æthrobasy.”) In connection with the story
of Simon the Magician, we have shown the explanation of the ancients as
to how the levitation and transport of heavy bodies could be produced.
We will now try and suggest a hypothesis for the same in relation to
_mediums, i. e._, persons supposed to be unconscious at the moment of
the phenomena, which the believers claim to be produced by disembodied
“spirits.” We need not repeat that which has been sufficiently
explained before. Conscious æthrobasy under magneto-electrical
conditions is possible only to _adepts_ who can never be overpowered by
an influence foreign to themselves, but remain sole masters of their
WILL.
Thus levitation, we will say, must always occur in obedience to law—a
law as inexorable as that which makes a body unaffected by it remain
upon the ground. And where should we seek for that law outside of the
theory of molecular attraction? It is a scientific hypothesis that the
form of force which first brings nebulous or star matter together into
a whirling vortex is electricity; and modern chemistry is being totally
reconstructed upon the theory of electric polarities of atoms. The
waterspout, the tornado, the whirlwind, the cyclone, and the hurricane,
are all doubtless the result of electrical action. This phenomenon has
been studied from above as well as from below, observations having been
made both upon the ground and from a balloon floating above the vortex
of a thunder-storm.
Observe now, that this force, under the conditions of a dry and warm {497}
atmosphere at the earth’s surface, can accumulate a dynamic energy
capable of lifting enormous bodies of water, of compressing the
particles of atmosphere, and of sweeping across a country, tearing
up forests, lifting rocks, and scattering buildings in fragments
over the ground. Wild’s electric machine causes induced currents of
magneto-electricity so enormously powerful as to produce light by which
small print may be read, on a dark night, at a distance of two miles
from the place where it is operating.
As long ago as the year 1600, Gilbert, in his _De Magnete_, enunciated
the principle that the globe itself is one vast magnet, and some of
our advanced electricians are now beginning to realize that man,
too, possesses this property, and that the mutual attractions and
repulsions of individuals toward each other may at least in part find
their explanation in this fact. The experience of attendants upon
spiritualistic circles corroborates this opinion. Says Professor
Nicholas Wagner, of the University of St. Petersburg: “Heat, or
_perhaps the electricity of the investigators_ sitting in the circle,
must concentrate itself in the table and gradually develop into
motions. At the same time, or a little afterward, the psychical force
unites to assist the two other powers. By _psychical force_, I mean
that which evolves itself out of all the other forces of our organism.
The combination into one general something of several separate forces,
and capable, when combined, of manifesting itself in degree, according
to the individuality.” The progress of the phenomena he considers
to be affected by the cold or the dryness of the atmosphere. Now,
remembering what has been said as to the subtler forms of energy which
the Hermetists have proved to exist in nature, and accepting the
hypothesis enunciated by Mr. Wagner that “the power which calls out
these manifestations is centred in the mediums,” may not the medium,
by furnishing in himself a nucleus as perfect in its way as the system
of permanent steel magnets in Wild’s battery, produce astral currents
sufficiently strong to lift in their vortex a body even as ponderable
as a human form? It is not necessary that the object lifted should
assume a gyratory motion, for the phenomenon we are observing, unlike
the whirlwind, is directed by an intelligence, which is capable
of keeping the body to be raised within the ascending current and
preventing its rotation.
Levitation in this case would be a purely mechanical phenomenon. The
inert body of the passive medium is lifted by a vortex created either
by the elemental spirits—possibly, in some cases, by human ones, and
sometimes through purely morbific causes, as in the cases of Professor
Perty’s sick somnambules. The levitation of the adept is, on the
contrary, a magneto-electric effect, as we have just stated. He has {498}
made the polarity of his body opposite to that of the atmosphere, and
identical with that of the earth; hence, attractable by the former,
retaining his consciousness the while. A like phenomenal levitation is
possible, also, when disease has changed the corporeal polarity of a
patient, as disease always does in a greater or lesser degree. But, in
such case, the lifted person would not be likely to remain conscious.
In one series of observations upon whirlwinds, made in 1859, in the
basin of the Rocky Mountains, “a newspaper was caught up ... to a
height of some two hundred feet; and there it oscillated to and fro
across the track for some considerable time, whilst accompanying the
onward motion.”[748] Of course scientists will say that a parallel
cannot be instituted between this case and that of human levitation;
that no vortex can be formed in a room by which a medium could be
raised; but this is a question of astral light and spirit, which have
their own peculiar dynamical laws. Those who understand the latter,
affirm that a concourse of people laboring under mental excitement,
which reäcts upon the physical system, throw off electro-magnetic
emanations, which, when sufficiently intense, can throw the whole
circumambient atmosphere into perturbation. Force enough may actually
be generated to create an electrical vortex, sufficiently powerful to
produce many a strange phenomenon. With this hint, the whirling of
the dervishes, and the wild dances, swayings, gesticulations, music,
and shouts of devotees will be understood as all having a common
object in view—namely, the creation of such astral conditions as favor
psychological and physical phenomena. The _rationale_ of religious
revivals will also be better understood if this principle is borne in
mind.
But there is still another point to be considered. If the medium is
a nucleus of magnetism and a conductor of that force, he would be
subject to the same laws as a metallic conductor, and be attracted to
his magnet. If, therefore, a magnetic centre of the requisite power
was formed directly over him by the unseen powers presiding over the
manifestations, why should not his body be lifted toward it, despite
terrestrial gravity? We know that, in the case of a medium who is
unconscious of the progress of the operation, it is necessary to first
admit the fact of such an intelligence, and next, the possibility
of the experiment being conducted as described; but, in view of the {499}
multifarious evidences offered, not only in our own researches, which
claim no authority, but also in those of Mr. Crookes, and a great
number of others, in many lands and at different epochs, we shall not
turn aside from the main object of offering this hypothesis in the
profitless endeavor to strengthen a case which scientific men will not
consider with patience, even when sanctioned by the most distinguished
of their own body.
As early as 1836, the public was apprised of certain phenomena which
were as extraordinary, if not more so than all the manifestations
which are produced in our days. The famous correspondence between two
well-known mesmerizers, Deleuze and Billot, was published in France,
and the wonders discussed for a time in every society. Billot firmly
believed in the apparition of spirits, for, as he says, he has both
seen, heard, and felt them. Deleuze was as much convinced of this truth
as Billot, and declared that man’s immortality and the return of the
dead, or rather of their shadows, was the best demonstrated fact in his
opinion. Material objects were brought to him from distant places by
invisible hands, and he communicated on most important subjects with
the invisible intelligences. “In regard to this,” he remarks, “I cannot
conceive how spiritual beings are able to carry material objects.” More
skeptical, less intuitional than Billot, nevertheless, he agreed with
the latter that “the question of spiritualism is not one of opinions,
but _of facts_.”
Such is precisely the conclusion to which Professor Wagner, of St.
Petersburg, was finally driven. In the second pamphlet on _Mediumistic
Phenomena_, issued by him in December, 1875, he administers the
following rebuke to Mr. Shkliarevsky, one of his materialistic critics:
“So long as the spiritual manifestations were weak and sporadic, we
men of science could afford to deceive ourselves with theories of
unconscious muscular action, or unconscious cerebrations of our brains,
and tumble the rest into one heap as juggleries.... But now these
wonders have grown too striking; the spirits show themselves in the
shape of tangible, materialized forms, which can be touched and handled
at will by any learned skeptic like yourself, and even be weighed and
measured. We can struggle no longer, for every resistance becomes
absurd—it threatens lunacy. Try then to realize this, and to humble
yourself before the possibility of impossible facts.”
Iron is only magnetized temporarily, but steel permanently, by contact
with the lodestone. Now steel is but iron which has passed through a
carbonizing process, and yet that process has quite changed the nature
of the metal, so far as its relations to the lodestone are concerned.
In like manner, it may be said that the medium is but an ordinary
person who is magnetized by influx from the astral light; and as the {500}
permanence of the magnetic property in the metal is measured by its
more or less steel-like character, so may we not say that the intensity
and permanency of mediumistic power is in proportion to the saturation
of the medium with the magnetic or astral force?
This condition of saturation may be congenital, or brought about in
any one of these ways:—by the mesmeric process; by spirit-agency; or
by self-will. Moreover, the condition seems hereditable, like any
other physical or mental peculiarity; many, and we may even say most
great mediums having had mediumship exhibited in some form by one or
more progenitors. Mesmeric subjects easily pass into the higher forms
of clairvoyance and mediumship (now so called), as Gregory, Deleuze,
Puysegur, Du Potet, and other authorities inform us. As to the process
of self-saturation, we have only to turn to the account of the priestly
devotees of Japan, Siam, China, India, Thibet, and Egypt, as well as of
European countries, to be satisfied of its reality. Long persistence
in a fixed determination to subjugate matter, brings about a condition
in which not only is one insensible to external impressions, but even
death itself may be simulated, as we have already seen. The ecstatic so
enormously reïnforces his will-power, as to draw into himself, as into
a vortex, the potencies resident in the astral light to supplement his
own natural store.
The phenomena of mesmerism are explicable upon no other hypothesis
than the projection of a current of force from the operator into
the subject. If a man can project this force by an exercise of the
will, what prevents his attracting it toward himself by reversing the
current? Unless, indeed, it be urged that the force is generated within
his body and cannot be attracted from any supply without. But even
under such an hypothesis, if he can generate a superabundant supply to
saturate another person, or even an inanimate object by his will, why
cannot he generate it in excess for self-saturation?
In his work on _Anthropology_, Professor J. R. Buchanan notes the
tendency of the natural gestures to follow the direction of the
phrenological organs; the attitude of combativeness being downward and
backward; that of hope and spirituality upward and forward; that of
firmness upward and backward; and so on. The adepts of Hermetic science
know this principle so well that they explain the levitation of their
own bodies, whenever it happens unawares, by saying that the thought
is so intently fixed upon a point above them, that when the body is
thoroughly imbued with the astral influence, it follows the mental
aspiration and rises into the air as easily as a cork held beneath
the water rises to the surface when its buoyancy is allowed to assert
itself. The giddiness felt by certain persons when standing upon the
brink of a chasm is explained upon the same principle. Young children, {501}
who have little or no active imagination, and in whom experience has
not had sufficient time to develop fear, are seldom, if ever, giddy;
but the adult of a certain mental temperament, seeing the chasm and
picturing in his imaginative fancy the consequences of a fall, allows
himself to be drawn by the attraction of the earth, and _unless the
spell of fascination_ be broken, his body will follow his thought to
the foot of the precipice.
That this giddiness is purely a temperamental affair, is shown in the
fact that some persons never experience the sensation, and inquiry will
probably reveal the fact that such are deficient in the imaginative
faculty. We have a case in view—a gentleman who, in 1858, had so firm
a nerve that he horrified the witnesses by standing upon the coping of
the _Arc de Triomphe_, in Paris, with folded arms, and his feet half
over the edge; but, having since become short-sighted, was taken with
a panic upon attempting to cross a plank-walk over the courtyard of a
hotel, where the footway was more than two feet and a half wide, and
there was no danger. He looked at the flagging below, gave his fancy
free play, and would have fallen had he not quickly sat down.
It is a dogma of science that perpetual motion is impossible; it is
another dogma, that the allegation that the Hermetists discovered
the elixir of life, and that certain of them, by partaking of it,
prolonged their existence far beyond the usual term, is a superstitious
absurdity. And the claim that the baser metals have been transmuted
into gold, and that the universal solvent was discovered, excites
only contemptuous derision in a century which has crowned the edifice
of philosophy with a copestone of protoplasm. The first is declared
a _physical impossibility_; as much so, according to Babinet, the
astronomer, as the “levitation of an object without contact;”[749]
the second, a physiological vagary begotten of a disordered mind; the
third, a chemical absurdity.
Balfour Stewart says that while the man of science cannot assert that
“he is intimately acquainted with all the forces of nature, and cannot
prove that perpetual motion is impossible; for, in truth, he knows very
little of these forces ... he does think _that he has entered into
the spirit and design of nature_, and therefore he denies at once the
possibility of such a machine.”[750] If he has discovered the design of
nature, he certainly has not _the spirit_, for he denies its existence
in one sense; and denying spirit he prevents that perfect understanding
of universal law which would redeem modern philosophy from its thousand
mortifying dilemmas and mistakes. If Professor B. Stewart’s negation is {502}
founded upon no better analogy than that of his French contemporary,
Babinet, he is in danger of a like humiliating catastrophe. The
universe itself illustrates the actuality of perpetual motion; and the
atomic theory, which has proved such a balm to the exhausted minds of
our cosmic explorers, is based upon it. The telescope searching through
space, and the microscope probing the mysteries of the little world in
a drop of water, reveal the same law in operation; and, as everything
below is like everything above, who would presume to say that when the
conservation of energy is better understood, and the two additional
forces of the kabalists are added to the catalogue of orthodox science,
it may not be discovered how to construct a machine which shall run
without friction and supply itself with energy in proportion to its
wastes? “Fifty years ago,” says the venerable Mr. de Lara, “a Hamburg
paper, quoting from an English one an account of the opening of the
Manchester and Liverpool Railway, pronounced it a gross fabrication;
capping the climax by saying, ‘even so far extends the credulity of the
English;’” the moral is apparent. The recent discovery of the compound
called METALLINE, by an American chemist, makes it appear probable that
friction can, in a large degree, be overcome. One thing is certain,
when a man shall have discovered the perpetual motion he will be able
to understand by analogy all the secrets of nature; progress in direct
ratio with resistance.
We may say the same of the elixir of life, by which is understood
physical life, the soul being of course deathless only by reason of
its divine immortal union with spirit. But _continual_ or _perpetual_
does not mean endless. The kabalists have never claimed that either
an endless physical life or unending motion is possible. The Hermetic
axiom maintains that only the First Cause and its direct emanations,
our spirits (scintillas from the eternal central sun which will be
reäbsorbed by it at the end of time) are incorruptible and eternal.
But, in possession of a knowledge of occult natural forces, yet
undiscovered by the materialists, they asserted that both physical
life and mechanical motion could be prolonged indefinitely. The
philosophers’ stone had more than one meaning attached to its
mysterious origin. Says Professor Wilder: “The study of alchemy was
even more universal than the several writers upon it appear to have
known, and was always the auxiliary, if not identical with, the occult
sciences of magic, necromancy, and astrology; probably from the same
fact that they were originally but forms of a spiritualism which was
generally extant in all ages of human history.”
Our greatest wonder is, that the very men who view the human body
simply as a “digesting machine,” should object to the idea that if
some equivalent for metalline could be applied between its molecules, {503}
it should run without friction. Man’s body is taken from the earth,
or dust, according to _Genesis_; which allegory bars the claims of
modern analysts to original discovery of the nature of the inorganic
constituents of human body. If the author of _Genesis_ knew this, and
Aristotle taught the identity between the life-principle of plants,
animals, and men, our affiliation with mother earth seems to have been
settled long ago.
Elie de Beaumont has recently reasserted the old doctrine of Hermes
that there is a terrestrial circulation comparable to that of the blood
of man. Now, since it is a doctrine as old as time, that nature is
continually renewing her wasted energies by absorption from the source
of energy, why should the child differ from the parent? Why may not
man, by discovering the source and nature of this recuperative energy,
extract from the earth herself the juice or quintessence with which to
replenish his own forces? This _may_ have been the great secret of the
alchemists. Stop the circulation of the terrestrial fluids and we have
stagnation, putrefaction, death; stop the circulation of the fluids in
man, and stagnation, absorption, calcification from old age, and death
ensue. If the alchemists had simply discovered some chemical compound
capable of keeping the channels of our circulation unclogged, would
not all the rest easily follow? And why, we ask, if the surface-waters
of certain mineral springs have such virtue in the cure of disease and
the restoration of physical vigor, is it illogical to say that if we
could get the first runnings from the alembic of nature in the bowels
of the earth, we might, perhaps, find that the fountain of youth was no
myth after all. Jennings asserts that the elixir was produced out of
the secret chemical laboratories of nature by some adepts; and Robert
Boyle, the chemist, mentions a medicated wine or cordial which Dr.
Lefevre tried with wonderful effect upon an old woman.
_Alchemy is as old as tradition itself._ “The first authentic record
on this subject,” says William Godwin, “is an edict of Diocletian,
about 300 years after Christ, ordering a diligent search to be made
in Egypt for all the ancient books which treated of the art of making
gold and silver, that they might be consigned to the flames. This
edict necessarily presumes a certain antiquity to the pursuit; and
_fabulous_ history has recorded Solomon, Pythagoras, and Hermes among
its distinguished votaries.”
And this question of transmutation—this alkahest or universal solvent,
which comes next after the elixir vitæ in the order of the three
alchemical agents? Is the idea so absurd as to be totally unworthy of
consideration in this age of chemical discovery? How shall we dispose
of the historical anecdotes of men who actually made gold and gave it
away, and of those who testify to having seen them do it? Libavius, {504}
Geberus, Arnoldus, Thomas Aquinas, Bernardus Comes, Joannes Penotus,
Quercetanus Geber, the Arabian father of European alchemy, Eugenius
Philalethes, Baptista Porta, Rubeus, Dornesius, Vogelius, Irenæus
Philaletha Cosmopolita, and many mediæval alchemists and Hermetic
philosophers assert the fact. Must we believe them all visionaries
and lunatics, these otherwise great and learned scholars? Francesco
Picus, in his work _De Auro_, gives eighteen instances of gold being
produced in his presence by artificial means; and Thomas Vaughan,[751]
going to a goldsmith to sell 1,200 marks worth of gold, when the man
suspiciously remarked that the gold was too pure to have ever come
out of a mine, ran away, leaving the money behind him. In a preceding
chapter we have brought forward the testimony of a number of authors to
this effect.
Marco Polo tells us that in some mountains of Thibet, which he
calls _Chingintalas_, there are veins of the substance from which
_Salamander_ is made: “For the real truth is, that the salamander is
no beast, as they allege in our parts of the world, but is a substance
found in the earth.”[752] Then he adds that a Turk of the name of
Zurficar, told him that he had been procuring salamanders for the Great
Khan, in those regions, for the space of three years. “He said that
the way they got them was by digging in that mountain till they found
a certain vein. The substance of this vein was then taken and crushed,
and, when so treated, it divides, as it were, into fibres of wool,
which they set forth to dry. When dry, these fibres were pounded and
washed, so as to leave only the fibres, like fibres of wool. These were
then spun.... When first made, these napkins are not very white, but,
by putting them into the fire for a while, they come out as white as
snow.”
Therefore, as several authorities testify, this mineral substance
is the famous _Asbestos_,[753] which the Rev. A. Williamson says is
found in Shantung. But, it is not only incombustible thread which is
made from it. An oil, having several most extraordinary properties,
is extracted from it, and the secret of its virtues remains with
certain lamas and Hindu adepts. When rubbed into the body, it leaves no
external stain or mark, but, nevertheless, after having been so rubbed,
the part can be scrubbed with soap and hot or cold water, without
the virtue of the ointment being affected in the least. The person
so rubbed may boldly step into the hottest fire; unless suffocated,
he will remain uninjured. Another property of the oil is that, when
combined with _another substance_, that we are not at liberty to {505}
name, and left stagnant under the rays of the moon, on certain nights
indicated by native astrologers, it will breed strange creatures.
Infusoria we may call them in one sense, but then these grow and
develop. Speaking of Kashmere, Marco Polo observes that they have an
astonishing acquaintance with the _devilries_ of enchantment, insomuch
that they _make their idols to speak_.
To this day, the greatest magian mystics of these regions may be found
in Kashmere. The various religious sects of this country were always
credited with preternatural powers, and were the resort of adepts and
sages. As Colonel Yule remarks, “Vambery tells us that even in our day,
the Kasmiri dervishes are preëminent among their Mahometan brethren for
_cunning_, secret arts, skill in exorcisms and magic.”[754]
But, all modern chemists are not equally dogmatic in their negation of
the possibility of such a transmutation. Dr. Peisse, Desprez, and even
the all-denying Louis Figuier, of Paris, seem to be far from rejecting
the idea. Dr. Wilder says: “The possibility of reducing the elements to
their primal form, as they are supposed to have existed in the igneous
mass from which the earth-crust is believed to have been formed, is not
considered by physicists to be so absurd an idea as has been intimated.
There is a relationship between metals, often so close as to indicate
an original identity. Persons called alchemists may, therefore, have
devoted their energies to investigations into these matters, as
Lavoisier, Davy, Faraday, and others of our day have explained the
mysteries of chemistry.”[755] A learned Theosophist, a practicing
physician of this country, one who has studied the occult sciences and
alchemy for over thirty years, has succeeded in reducing the elements
to their primal form, and made what is termed “the pre-Adamite earth.”
It appears in the form of an earthy precipitate from pure water, which,
on being disturbed, presents the most opalescent and vivid colors.
“The secret,” say the alchemists, as if enjoying the ignorance of the
uninitiated, “is an amalgamation of the salt, sulphur, and mercury
combined three times in Azoth, by a triple sublimation and a triple
fixation.”
“How ridiculously absurd!” will exclaim a learned modern chemist. Well,
the disciples of the great Hermes understand the above as well as a
graduate of Harvard University comprehends the meaning of his Professor
of Chemistry, when the latter says: “With one hydroxyl group we can
only produce monatomic compounds; use two hydroxyl groups, and we can
form around the same skeleton a number of diatomic compounds. ... {506}
Attach to the nucleus three hydroxyl groups, and there result triatomic
compounds, among which is a very familiar substance—
H H H
| | |
H-O-C-C-C-O-H
| | |
H H H
|
H
_Glycerine_.”
“Attach thyself,” says the alchemist, “to the four letters of the
tetragram disposed in the following manner: The letters of the
ineffable name are there, although thou mayest not discern them at
first. The incommunicable axiom is kabalistically contained therein,
and this is what is called the magic arcanum by the masters.” The
arcanum—the fourth emanation of the Akâsa, the principle of LIFE, which
is represented in its third transmutation by the fiery sun, the eye of
the world, or of Osiris, as the Egyptians termed it. An eye tenderly
watching its youngest daughter, wife, and sister—Isis, our mother
earth. See what Hermes, the thrice-great master, says of her: “Her
father is the sun, her mother is the moon.” It attracts and caresses,
and then repulses her by a projectile power. It is for the Hermetic
student to watch its motions, to catch its subtile currents, to guide
and direct them with the help of the _athanor_, the Archimedean lever
of the alchemist. What is this mysterious athanor? Can the physicist
tell us—he who sees and examines it daily? Aye, he sees; but does he
comprehend the secret-ciphered characters traced by the divine finger
on every sea-shell in the ocean’s deep; on every leaf that trembles in
the breeze; in the bright star, whose stellar lines are in his sight
but so many more or less luminous lines of hydrogen?
[Illustration: Three geometrical shapes]
“God _geometrizes_,” said Plato.[756] “The laws of nature are the {507}
thoughts of God;” exclaimed Oërsted, 2,000 years later. “His
thoughts are immutable,” repeated the solitary student of Hermetic
lore, “therefore it is in the perfect harmony and equilibrium of all
things that we must seek the truth.” And thus, proceeding from the
indivisible unity, he found emanating from it two contrary forces,
each acting through the other and producing equilibrium, and the
three were but one, the Pythagorean Eternal Monad. The primordial
point is a circle; the circle squaring itself from the four cardinal
points becomes a quaternary, the perfect square, having at each of
its four angles a letter of the mirific name, the sacred TETRAGRAM.
It is the four Buddhas who came and have passed away; the Pythagorean
_tetractys_—absorbed and resolved by the one eternal NO-BEING.
Tradition declares that on the dead body of Hermes, at Hebron, was
found by an Isarim, an initiate, the tablet known as the _Smaragdine_.
It contains, in a few sentences, the essence of the Hermetic wisdom. To
those who read but with their bodily eyes, the precepts will suggest
nothing new or extraordinary, for it merely begins by saying that it
speaks not fictitious things, but that which is true and most certain.
“What is below is like that which is above, and what is above is
similar to that which is below to accomplish the wonders of one thing.
“As all things were produced by the mediation of one being, so all
things were produced from this one _by adaptation_.
“Its father is the sun, its mother is the moon.
“It is the cause of all perfection throughout the whole earth.
“Its power is perfect _if it is changed into earth_.
“Separate the earth from the fire, the subtile from the gross, acting
prudently and with judgment.
“Ascend with the greatest sagacity from the earth to heaven, and then
descend again to earth, and unite together the power of things inferior
and superior; thus you will possess the light of the whole world, and
all obscurity will fly away from you.
“This thing has more fortitude than fortitude itself, because _it will
overcome every subtile thing_ and _penetrate every solid thing_.
“By it the world was formed.”
This mysterious thing is the universal, magical agent, the astral
light, which in the correlations of its forces furnishes the alkahest, {508}
the philosopher’s stone, and the elixir of life. Hermetic philosophy
names it Azoth, the soul of the world, the celestial virgin, the
great Magnes, etc., etc. Physical science knows it as “heat, light,
electricity, and magnetism;” but ignoring its spiritual properties and
the occult potency contained in ether, rejects everything it ignores.
It explains and depicts the crystalline forms of the snow-flakes, their
modifications of an hexagonal prism which shoot out an infinity of
delicate needles. It has studied them so perfectly that it has even
calculated, with the most wondrous mathematical precision, that all
these needles diverge from each other at an angle of 60°. Can it tell
us as well the cause of this “endless variety of the most exquisite
forms,”[757] each of which is a most perfect geometrical figure in
itself? These frozen, star-like and flower-like blossoms, may be,
for all materialistic science knows, a shower of messages snowed by
spiritual hands from the worlds above for spiritual eyes below to read.
The philosophical cross, the two lines running in opposite directions,
the horizontal and the perpendicular, the height and breadth, which
the geometrizing Deity divides at the intersecting point, and which
forms the magical as well as the scientific quaternary, when it is
inscribed within the perfect square, is the basis of the occultist.
Within its mystical precinct lies the master-key which opens the door
of every science, physical as well as spiritual. It symbolizes our
human existence, for the circle of life circumscribes the four points
of the cross, which represent in succession birth, life, death, and
IMMORTALITY. Everything in this world is a trinity completed by the
quaternary,[758] and every element is divisible on this same principle.
Physiology can divide man _ad infinitum_, as physical science has
divided the four primal and principal elements in several dozens of
others; she will not succeed in changing either. Birth, life, and death
will ever be a trinity completed only at the cyclic end. Even were
science to change the longed-for immortality into annihilation, it
still will ever be a quaternary; for God “geometrizes!”
Therefore, perhaps alchemy will one day be allowed to talk of her salt,
mercury, sulphur, and azoth, her symbols and mirific letters, and
repeat, with the exponent of the _Synthesis of Organic Compounds_, that
“it must be remembered that the grouping is _no play of fancy_, and
that a good reason can be given for the position of every letter.”[759]
Dr. Peisse, of Paris, wrote in 1863, the following:
“One word, _a propos_, of alchemy. What must we think of the Hermetic {509}
art? Is it lawful to believe that we can transmute metals, make
gold? Well, positive men, _esprits forts_ of the nineteenth century,
know that Mr. Figuier, doctor of science and medicine, chemical
analyst in the School of Pharmacy, of Paris, does not wish to express
himself upon the subject. He doubts, he hesitates. He knows several
alchemists (for there are such) who, basing themselves upon modern
chemical discoveries, and especially on the singular circumstance of
the equivalents demonstrated by M. Dumas, pretend that metals are
not simple bodies, true elements in the absolute sense, and that in
consequence they may be produced by the process of decomposition....
This encourages me to take a step further, and candidly avow that I
would be only moderately surprised to see some one make gold. I have
only one reason to give, but sufficient it seems; which is, that gold
has not always existed; it has been made by some chemical travail or
other in the bosom of the fused matter of our globe;[760] perhaps some
of it may be even now in process of formation. The pretended simple
bodies of our chemistry are very probably secondary products, in the
formation of the terrestrial mass. It has been proved so with water,
one of the most respectable elements of ancient physics. To-day, we
create water. Why should we not make gold? An eminent experimentalist,
Mr. Desprez, has made the diamond. True, this diamond is only _a
scientific diamond_, a philosophical diamond, which would be worth
nothing; but, no matter, my position holds good. Besides, we are not
left to simple conjectures. There is a man living, who, in a paper
addressed to the scientific bodies, in 1853, has underscored these
words—I have discovered the method of producing artificial gold, I
have made gold. This adept is Mr. Theodore Tiffereau, ex-preparator of
chemistry in the _École Professionelle et Supérieure_ of Nantes.”[761]
Cardinal de Rohan, the famous victim of the diamond necklace
conspiracy, testified that he had seen the Count Cagliostro make both
gold and diamonds. We presume that those who agree with Professor T.
Sterry Hunt, F.R.S., will have no patience with the theory of Dr.
Peisse, for they believe that all of our metalliferous deposits are
due to the action of organic life. And so, until they do come to some
composition of their differences, so as to let us know for a certainty
the nature of gold, and whether it is the product of interior volcanic
alchemy or surface segregation and filtration; we will leave them to
settle their quarrel between themselves, and give credit meanwhile to
the old philosophers.
Professor Balfour Stewart, whom no one would think of classing among {510}
illiberal minds; who, with far more fairness and more frequently than
any of his colleagues admits the failings of modern science, shows
himself, nevertheless, as biassed as other scientists on this question.
Perpetual light being only another name for perpetual motion, he
tells us, and the latter being impossible because we have no means of
equilibrating the waste of combustible material, a Hermetic light is,
therefore, an impossibility.[762] Noting the fact that a “perpetual
light was supposed to result from _magical_ powers,” and remarking
further that such a light is “certainly not of this earth, where light
and all other forms of superior energy are essentially evanescent,”
this gentleman argues as though the Hermetic philosophers had always
claimed that the flame under discussion was an ordinary earthly flame,
resulting from the combustion of luminiferous material. In this the
philosophers have been constantly misunderstood and misrepresented.
How many great minds—unbelievers from the start—after having studied
the “secret doctrine,” have changed their opinions and found out how
mistaken they were. And how contradictory it seems to find one moment
Balfour Stewart quoting some philosophical morals of Bacon—whom he
terms the father of experimental science—and saying “ ... surely we
ought to learn a lesson from these remarks ... and be very cautious
_before we dismiss any branch of knowledge_ or train of thought as
essentially unprofitable,” and then dismissing the next moment, as
_utterly impossible_, the claims of the alchemists! He shows Aristotle
as “entertaining the idea that light is not any body, or the emanation
of any body, and that therefore light is an energy or act;” and yet,
although the ancients were the first to show, through Demokritus, to
John Dalton the doctrine of atoms, and through Pythagoras and even the
oldest of the Chaldean oracles, that of ether as a universal agent,
their ideas, says Stewart, “were not prolific.” He admits that they
“possessed great genius and intellectual power,” but adds that “they
were deficient in physical conceptions, and, in consequence, their
ideas were not prolific.”[763]
The whole of the present work is a protest against such a loose way
of judging the ancients. To be thoroughly competent to criticise
their ideas, and assure one’s self whether their ideas were distinct
and “appropriate to the facts,” one must have sifted these ideas to
the very bottom. It is idle to repeat that which we have frequently
said, and that which every scholar ought to know; namely, that the
quintessence of their knowledge was in the hands of the priests, who
never wrote them, and in those of the “initiates” who, like Plato, {511}
_did not dare_ write them. Therefore, those few speculations on the
material and spiritual universes, which they did put in writing, could
not enable posterity to judge them rightly, even had not the early
Christian Vandals, the later crusaders, and the fanatics of the middle
ages destroyed three parts of that which remained of the Alexandrian
library and its later schools. Professor Draper shows that the Cardinal
Ximenes alone “delivered to the flames in the squares of Granada,
80,000 Arabic manuscripts, many of them translations of classical
authors.” In the Vatican libraries, whole passages in the most rare and
precious treatises of the ancients were found erased and blotted out,
for the sake of interlining them with absurd psalmodies!
Who then, of those who turn away from the “secret doctrine” as being
“unphilosophical” and, therefore, unworthy of a scientific thought,
has a right to say that he studied the ancients; that he is aware of
all that they knew, and knowing now far more, knows also that they
knew little, if anything. This “secret doctrine” contains the alpha
and the omega of universal science; therein lies the corner and the
keystone of all the ancient and modern knowledge; and alone in this
“unphilosophical” doctrine remains buried the _absolute_ in the
philosophy of the dark problems of life and death.
“The great energies of Nature are known to us only by their effects,”
said Paley. Paraphrasing the sentence, we will say that the great
achievements of the days of old are known to posterity only by
their effects. If one takes a book on alchemy, and sees in it the
speculations on gold and light by the brothers of the Rosie Cross, he
will find himself certainly startled, for the simple reason that he
will not understand them at all. “The Hermetic gold,” he may read,
“is the outflow of the sunbeam, or of light suffused invisibly and
magically into the body of the world. Light is sublimated gold, rescued
magically by invisible stellar attraction, out of material depths.
Gold is thus the deposit of light, which of itself generates. Light in
the celestial world is subtile, vaporous, magically exalted gold, or
‘_spirit of flame_.’ Gold draws inferior natures in the metals, and
intensifying and multiplying, converts into itself.”[764]
Nevertheless, facts are facts; and, as Billot says of spiritualism,
we will remark of occultism generally and of alchemy in particular—it
is not a matter of opinion but of _facts_, men of science call an
inextinguishable lamp an _impossibility_, but nevertheless persons
in our own age as well as in the days of ignorance and superstition
have found them burning bright in old vaults shut up for centuries; {512}
and other persons there are who possess the secret of keeping such
fires for several ages. Men of science say that ancient and modern
spiritualism, magic, and mesmerism, are charlatanry or delusion; but
there are 800 millions on the face of the globe, of perfectly sane men
and women, who believe in all these. Whom are we to credit?
“Demokritus,” says Lucian,[765] “believed in no (miracles) ... he
applied himself to discover the method by which the theurgists could
produce them; in a word, his philosophy brought him to the conclusion
that magic was entirely confined to the application and _the imitation_
of the laws and the works of nature.”
Now, the opinion of the “laughing philosopher” is of the greatest
importance to us, since the Magi left by Xerxes, at Abdera, were his
instructors, and he had studied magic, moreover, for a considerably
long time with the Egyptian priests.[766] For nearly ninety years
of the one hundred and nine of his life, this great philosopher had
made experiments, and noted them down in a book, which, according
to Petronius,[767] _treated of nature_—facts that he had verified
himself. And we find him not only disbelieving in and utterly
rejecting _miracles_, but asserting that every one of those that were
authenticated by eye-witnesses, had, and could have taken place; for
all, even the most _incredible_, was produced according to the “_hidden
laws of nature_.”[768]
“The day will never come, when any one of the propositions of Euclid
will be denied,”[769] says Professor Draper, exalting the Aristoteleans
at the expense of the Pythagoreans and Platonists. Shall we, in such a
case, disbelieve a number of well-informed authorities (Lemprière among
others), who assert that the fifteen books of the _Elements_ are not
to be wholly attributed to Euclid; and that many of the most valuable
truths and demonstrations contained in them owe their existence to
Pythagoras, Thales, and Eudoxus? That Euclid, notwithstanding his
genius, was _the first_ who reduced them to order, and only interwove
theories of his own to render the whole a complete and connected system
of geometry? And if these authorities are right, then it is again to
that central sun of metaphysical science—Pythagoras and his school,
that the moderns are indebted directly for such men as Eratosthenes,
the world-famous geometer and cosmographer, Archimedes, and even
Ptolemy, notwithstanding his obstinate errors. Were it not for the
exact science of such men, and for fragments of their works that they
left us to base Galilean speculations upon, the great priests of the {513}
nineteenth century might find themselves, perhaps, still in the
bondage of the Church; and philosophizing, in 1876, on the Augustine
and Bedean cosmogony, the rotation of the canopy of heaven round the
earth, and the majestic flatness of the latter.
The nineteenth century seems positively doomed to humiliating
confessions. Feltre (Italy) erects a public statue “to _Panfilo
Castaldi, the illustrious inventor of movable printing types_,” and
adds in its inscription the generous confession that Italy renders to
him “_this tribute of honor too long deferred_.” But no sooner is the
statue placed, than the Feltreians are advised by Colonel Yule to “burn
it _in honest lime_.” He proves that many a traveller beside Marco
Polo had brought home from China movable wooden types and specimens of
Chinese books, the entire text of which was printed with such wooden
blocks.[770] We have seen in several Thibetan lamaseries, where they
have printing-offices, such blocks preserved as curiosities. They
are known to be of the greatest antiquity, inasmuch as types were
perfected, and the old ones abandoned contemporaneously with the
earliest records of Buddhistic lamaism. Therefore, they must have
existed in China before the Christian era.
Let every one ponder over the wise words of Professor Roscoe, in his
lecture on _Spectrum Analysis_. “The infant truths must be made useful.
Neither you nor I, perhaps, can see the _how_ or the _when_, but that
the time may come at any moment, when the most obscure of nature’s
secrets shall at once be employed for the benefit of mankind, no one
who knows anything of science, can for one instant doubt. Who could
have foretold that the discovery that a dead frog’s legs jump when they
are touched by two different metals, should have led in a few short
years to the discovery of the electric telegraph?”
Professor Roscoe, visiting Kirchhoff and Bunsen when they were making
their great discoveries of the nature of the Fraunhoffer lines,
says that it _flashed_ upon his mind at once that there is iron in
the sun; therein presenting one more evidence to add to a million
predecessors, that great discoveries usually come with a _flash_,
and not by induction. There are many more flashes in store for us.
It may be found, perhaps, that one of the last sparkles of modern
science—the beautiful green spectrum of silver—is nothing new, but was,
notwithstanding the paucity “and great inferiority of their optical
instruments,” well known to the ancient chemists and physicists. Silver
and green were associated together as far back as the days of Hermes.
Luna, or Astartè (the Hermetic silver), is one of the two chief symbols
of the Rosicrucians. It is a Hermetic axiom, that “the cause of the {514}
splendor and variety of colors lies deep in the affinities of nature;
and that there is a singular and mysterious alliance between color and
sound.” The kabalists place their “middle nature” in direct relation
with the moon; and the green ray occupies the centre point between
the others, being placed in the middle of the spectrum. The Egyptian
priests chanted the _seven_ vowels as a hymn addressed to Serapis;[771]
and at the sound of the _seventh_ vowel, as at the “_seventh_ ray” of
the rising sun, the statue of Memnon responded. Recent discoveries have
proved the wonderful properties of the blue-violet light—the _seventh_
ray of the prismatic spectrum, the most powerfully chemical of all,
which corresponds with the highest note in the musical scale. The
Rosicrucian theory, that the whole universe is a musical instrument,
is the Pythagorean doctrine of the music of the spheres. Sounds and
colors are all spiritual numerals; as the seven prismatic rays proceed
from one spot in heaven, so the seven powers of nature, each of them a
number, are the seven radiations of the Unity, the central, spiritual
SUN.
“Happy is he who comprehends the spiritual numerals, and perceives
their mighty influence!” exclaims Plato. And happy, we may add, is he
who, treading the maze of force-correlations, does not neglect to trace
them to this invisible Sun!
Future experimenters will reap the honor of demonstrating that musical
tones have a wonderful effect upon the growth of vegetation. And
with the enunciation of this unscientific fallacy, we will close the
chapter, and proceed to remind the patient reader of certain things
that the ancients knew, and the moderns _think_ they know.
CHAPTER XIV. {515}
“The transactions of this our city of Saïs, are recorded in our
sacred writings during a period of 8,000 years.”—PLATO: _Timæus_.
“The Egyptians assert that from the reign of Heracles to that
of Amasis, 17,000 years elapsed.”—HERODOTUS, lib. ii., c. 43.
“Can the theologian derive no light from the pure, primeval
faith that glimmers from Egyptian hieroglyphics, to illustrate
the immortality of the soul? Will not the historian deign to
notice the prior origin of every art and science in Egypt, a
thousand years before the Pelasgians studded the isles and
capes of the Archipelago with their forts and temples?”—GLIDDON.
How came Egypt by her knowledge? When broke the dawn of that
civilization whose wondrous perfection is suggested by the bits and
fragments supplied to us by the archæologists? Alas! the lips of Memnon
are silent, and no longer utter oracles; the Sphinx has become a
greater riddle in her speechlessness than was the enigma propounded to
Œdipus.
What Egypt taught to others she certainly did not acquire by the
international exchange of ideas and discoveries with her Semitic
neighbors, nor from them did she receive her stimulus. “The more we
learn of the Egyptians,” observes the writer of a recent article,
“the more marvellous they seem!” From whom could she have learned
her wondrous arts, the secrets of which died with her? She sent no
agents throughout the world to learn what others knew; but to her
the wise men of neighboring nations resorted for knowledge. Proudly
secluding herself within her enchanted domain, the fair queen of the
desert created wonders as if by the sway of a magic staff. “Nothing,”
remarks the same writer, whom we have elsewhere quoted, “proves that
civilization and knowledge then rise and progress with her as in the
case of other peoples, but everything seems to be referable, in the
same perfection, _to the earliest dates_. That no nation knew as much
as herself, is a fact demonstrated by history.”
May we not assign as a reason for this remark the fact that until
very recently nothing was known of Old India? That these two nations,
India and Egypt, were akin? That they were the oldest in the group of
nations; and that the Eastern Ethiopians—the mighty builders—had come
from India as a matured people, bringing their civilization with them, {516}
and colonizing the perhaps unoccupied Egyptian territory? But we defer
a more complete elaboration of this theme for our second volume.[772]
“Mechanism,” says Eusebe Salverte, “was carried by the ancients to
a point of perfection that has never been attained in modern times.
We would inquire if their inventions have been surpassed in our age?
Certainly not; and at the present day, with all the means that the
progress of science and modern discovery have placed in the hands
of the mechanic, have we not been assailed by numerous difficulties
in striving to place on a pedestal one of those monoliths that the
Egyptians forty centuries ago erected in such numbers before their
sacred edifices.”
As far back as we can glance into history, to the reign of Menes, the
most ancient of the kings that we know anything about, we find proofs
that the Egyptians were far better acquainted with hydrostatics and
hydraulic engineering than ourselves. The gigantic work of turning
the course of the Nile—or rather of its three principal branches—and
bringing it to Memphis, was accomplished during the reign of that
monarch, who appears to us as distant in the abyss of time as a
far-glimmering star in the heavenly vault. Says Wilkinson: “Menes
took accurately the measure of the power which he had to oppose, and
he constructed a dyke whose lofty mounds and enormous embankments
turned the water eastward, and since that time the river is contained
in its new bed.” Herodotus has left us a poetical, but still accurate
description of the lake Mœris, so called after the Pharaoh who caused
this artificial sheet of water to be formed.
The historian has described this lake as measuring 450 miles in
circumference, and 300 feet in depth. It was fed through artificial
channels by the Nile, and made to store a portion of the annual
overflow for the irrigation of the country, for many miles round.
Its numerous flood gates, dams, locks, and convenient engines were
constructed with the greatest skill. The Romans, at a far later period,
got their notions on hydraulic constructions from the Egyptians, but
our latest progress in the science of hydrostatics has demonstrated
the fact of a great deficiency on their part in some branches of that
knowledge. Thus, for instance, if they were acquainted with that which
is called in hydrostatics the great law, they seem to have been less
familiar with what our modern engineers know as water tight joints.
Their ignorance is sufficiently proved by their conveying the water
through large level aqueducts, instead of doing it at a less expense by
iron pipes beneath the surface. But the Egyptians evidently employed
a far superior method in their channels and artificial water-works.
Notwithstanding this, the modern engineers employed by Lesseps for the {517}
Suez Canal, who had learned from the ancient Romans all their art could
teach them, deriving, in their turn, their knowledge from Egypt—scoffed
at the suggestion that they should seek a remedy for some imperfections
in their work by studying the contents of the various Egyptian museums.
Nevertheless, the engineers succeeded in giving to the banks of that
“long and ugly ditch,” as Professor Carpenter calls the Suez Canal,
sufficient strength to make it a navigable water-way, instead of a
mud-trap for vessels as it was at first.
The alluvial deposits of the Nile, during the past thirty centuries,
have completely altered the area of the Delta, so that it is
continually growing seaward, and adding to the territory of the
Khedive. In ancient times, the principal mouth of the river was called
Pelusian; and the canal cut by one of the kings—the canal of Necho—led
from Suez to this branch. After the defeat of Antony and Cleopatra,
at Actium, it was proposed that a portion of the fleet should pass
through the canal to the Red Sea, which shows the depth of water that
those early engineers had secured. Settlers in Colorado and Arizona
have recently reclaimed large tracts of barren land by a system of
irrigation; receiving from the journals of the day no little praise
for their ingenuity. But, for a distance of 500 miles above Cairo,
there stretches a strip of land reclaimed from the desert, and made,
according to Professor Carpenter, “the most fertile on the face of
the earth.” He says, “for thousands of years these branch canals have
conveyed fresh water from the Nile, to fertilize the land of this long
narrow strip, as well as of the Delta.” He describes “the net-work of
canals over the Delta, which dates from an early period of the Egyptian
monarchs.”
The French province of Artois has given its name to the Artesian well,
as though that form of engineering had been first applied in that
district; but, if we consult the Chinese records, we find such wells to
have been in common use ages before the Christian era.
If we now turn to architecture, we find displayed before our eyes,
wonders which baffle all description. Referring to the temples of
Philoe, Abu Simbel, Dendera, Edfu, and Karnak, Professor Carpenter
remarks that “these stupendous and beautiful erections ... these
gigantic pyramids and temples” have a “vastness and beauty” which are
“still impressive after the lapse of thousands of years.” He is amazed
at “the admirable character of the workmanship; the stones in most
cases being fitted together with astonishing nicety, so that a knife
could hardly be thrust between the joints.” He noticed in his amateur
archæological pilgrimage, another of those “curious coincidences”
which his Holiness, the Pope, may feel some interest in learning. He
is speaking of the Egyptian _Book of the Dead_, sculptured on the old
monuments, and the ancient belief in the immortality of the soul.
“Now, it is most remarkable,” says the professor, “to see that not only
this belief, but the language in which it was expressed in the ancient
Egyptian times, anticipated that of the Christian Revelation. For, in
this _Book of the Dead_, there are used the very phrases we find in the {518}
_New Testament_, in connection with the day of judgment;” and he admits
that this hierogram was “engraved, probably, 2,000 years before the
time of Christ.”
According to Bunsen, who is considered to have made the most exact
calculations, the mass of masonry in the great Pyramid of Cheops
measures 82,111,000 feet, and would weigh 6,316,000 tons. The immense
numbers of squared stones show us the unparalleled skill of the
Egyptian quarrymen. Speaking of the great pyramid, Kenrick says: “The
joints are scarcely perceptible, not wider than the thickness of
silver paper, and the cement is so tenacious, that fragments of the
casing-stones still remain in their original position, notwithstanding
the lapse of many centuries, and the violence by which they were
detached.” Who, of our modern architects and chemists, will rediscover
the indestructible cement of the oldest Egyptian buildings?
“The skill of the ancients in quarrying,” says Bunsen, “is displayed
the most in the extracting of the huge blocks, out of which obelisks
and colossal statues were hewn—obelisks ninety feet high, and statues
forty feet high, made out of one stone!” There are many such. They did
not blast out the blocks for these monuments, but adopted the following
scientific method: Instead of using huge iron wedges, which would have
split the stone, they cut a small groove for the whole length of,
perhaps, 100 feet, and inserted in it, close to each other, a great
number of dry wooden wedges; after which they poured water into the
groove, and the wedges swelling and bursting simultaneously, with a
tremendous force, broke out the huge stone, as neatly as a diamond cuts
a pane of glass.
Modern geographers and geologists have demonstrated that these
monoliths were brought from a prodigious distance, and have been at
a loss to conjecture how the transport was effected. Old manuscripts
say that it was done by the help of portable rails. These rested upon
inflated bags of hide, rendered indestructible by the same process as
that used for preserving the mummies. These ingenious air-cushions
prevented the rails from sinking in the deep sand. Manetho mentions
them, and remarks that they were so well prepared that they would
endure wear and tear for centuries.
The date of the hundreds of pyramids in the Valley of the Nile is
impossible to fix by any of the rules of modern science; but Herodotus
informs us that each successive king erected one to commemorate his {519}
reign, and serve as his sepulchre. But, Herodotus did not tell all,
although he knew that the _real_ purpose of the pyramid was very
different from that which he assigns to it. Were it not for his
religious scruples, he might have added that, externally, it symbolized
the creative principle of nature, and illustrated also the principles
of geometry, mathematics, astrology, and astronomy. Internally, it was
a majestic fane, in whose sombre recesses were performed the Mysteries,
and whose walls had often witnessed the initiation-scenes of members
of the royal family. The porphyry sarcophagus, which Professor Piazzi
Smyth, Astronomer Royal of Scotland, degrades into a corn-bin, was the
_baptismal font_, upon emerging from which, the neophyte was “born
again,” and became an _adept_.
Herodotus gives us, however, a just idea of the enormous labor expended
in transporting one of these gigantic blocks of granite. It measured
thirty-two feet in length, twenty-one feet in width, and twelve feet in
height. Its weight he estimates to be rising 300 tons, and it occupied
2,000 men for three years to move it from Syene to the Delta, down the
Nile. Gliddon, in his _Ancient Egypt_, quotes from Pliny a description
of the arrangements for moving the obelisk erected at Alexandria by
Ptolemæus Philadelphus. A canal was dug from the Nile to the place
where the obelisk lay. Two boats were floated under it; they were
weighted with stones containing one cubic foot each, and the weight
of the obelisk having been calculated by the engineers, the cargo
of the boats was exactly proportioned to it, so that they should be
sufficiently submerged to pass under the monolith as it lay across the
canal. Then, the stones were gradually removed, the boats rose, lifted
the obelisk, and it was floated down the river.
In the Egyptian section of the Dresden, or Berlin Museum, we forget
which, is a drawing which represents a workman ascending an unfinished
pyramid, with a basket of sand upon his back. This has suggested to
certain Egyptologists the idea that the blocks of the pyramids were
chemically manufactured _in loco_. Some modern engineers believe
that Portland cement, a double silicate of lime and alumina, is
the imperishable cement of the ancients. But, on the other hand,
Professor Carpenter asserts that the pyramids, with the exception of
their granite casing, is formed of what “geologists call _nummulitic_
limestone. This is newer than the old chalk, and is made of the shells
of animals called nummulites—like little pieces of money about the size
of a shilling.” However this moot question may be decided, no one, from
Herodotus and Pliny down to the last wandering engineer who has gazed
upon these imperial monuments of long-crumbled dynasties, has been
able to tell us how the gigantic masses were transported and set up {520}
in place. Bunsen concedes to Egypt an antiquity of 20,000 years. But
even in this matter we would be left to conjecture if we depended upon
modern authorities. They can neither tell us for what the pyramids were
constructed, under what dynasty the first was raised, nor the material
of which they are built. All is conjecture with them.
Professor Smyth has given us by far the most accurate mathematical
description of the great pyramid to be found in literature. But after
showing the astronomical bearings of the structure, he so little
appreciates ancient Egyptian thought that he actually maintains
that the porphyry sarcophagus of the king’s chamber is the unit of
measure for the two most enlightened nations of the earth—“England
and America.” One of the _books_ of _Hermes_ describes certain of the
pyramids as standing upon the sea-shore, “the waves of which dashed in
powerless fury against its base.” This implies that the geographical
features of the country have been changed, and may indicate that
we must accord to these ancient “granaries,” “magico-astrological
observatories,” and “royal sepulchres,” an origin antedating the
upheaval of the Sahara and other deserts. This would imply rather more
of an antiquity than the poor few thousands of years, so generously
accorded to them by Egyptologists.
Dr. Rebold, a French archæologist of some renown, gives his readers a
glimpse of the culture which prevailed 5,000 (?) years b. c., by saying
that there were at that time no less than “thirty or forty colleges of
the priests who studied occult sciences and practical magic.”
A writer in the _National Quarterly Review_ (Vol. xxxii., No. lxiii.,
December, 1875) says that, “The recent excavations made among the
ruins of Carthage have brought to light traces of a civilization, a
refinement of art and luxury, which must even have outshone that of
ancient Rome; and when the fiat went forth, _Delenda est Carthago_,
the mistress of the world well knew that she was about to destroy a
greater than herself, for, while one empire swayed the world by force
of arms alone, the other was the last and most perfect representative
of a race who had, for centuries before Rome was dreamed of, directed
the civilization, the learning, and the intelligence of mankind.” This
Carthage is the one which, according to Appian, was standing as early
as B. C. 1234, or fifty years before the taking of Troy, and not the
one popularly supposed to have been built by Dido (Elissa or Astartè)
four centuries later.
Here we have still another illustration of the truth of the doctrine
of cycles. Draper’s admissions as to the astronomical erudition of
the ancient Egyptians are singularly supported by an interesting fact
quoted by Mr. J. M. Peebles, from a lecture delivered in Philadelphia,
by the late Professor O. M. Mitchell, the astronomer. Upon the coffin
of a mummy, now in the British Museum, was delineated the zodiac {521}
with the exact positions of the planets at the time of the autumnal
equinox, in the year 1722 B.C. Professor Mitchell calculated the exact
position of the heavenly bodies belonging to our solar system at the
time indicated. “The result,” says Mr. Peebles, “I give in his own
words: ‘To my astonishment ... it was found that on the 7th of October,
1722 B.C., the moon and planets had occupied the exact points in the
heavens marked upon the coffin in the British Museum.’”[773]
Professor John Fiske, in his onslaught on Dr. Draper’s _History of
the Intellectual Development of Europe_, sets his pen against the
doctrine of cyclical progression, remarking that “we have never
known the beginning or the end of an historic cycle, and have no
inductive warrant for believing that we are now traversing one.”[774]
He chides the author of that eloquent and thoughtful work for the
“odd disposition exhibited throughout his work, not only to refer the
best part of Greek culture to an Egyptian source, but uniformly to
exalt the non-European civilization at the expense of the European.”
We believe that this “odd disposition” might be directly sanctioned
by the confessions of great Grecian historians themselves. Professor
Fiske might, with profit, read Herodotus over again. The “Father of
History” confesses more than once that Greece owes everything to Egypt.
As to his assertion that the world has never known the beginning or
the end of an historical cycle, we have but to cast a retrospective
glance on the many glorious nations which have passed away, _i.e._,
reached the end of their great national cycle. Compare the Egypt of
that day, with its perfection of art, science, and religion, its
glorious cities and monuments, and its swarming population, with the
Egypt of to-day, peopled with strangers; its ruins the abode of bats
and snakes, and a few Copts the sole surviving heirs to all this
grandeur—and see whether the cyclical theory does not reässert itself.
Says Gliddon, who is now contradicted by Mr. Fiske: “Philologists,
astronomers, chemists, painters, architects, physicians, must return
to Egypt to learn the origin of language and writing; of the calendar
and solar motion; of the art of cutting granite with a copper chisel,
and of giving elasticity to a copper sword; of making glass with the
variegated hues of the rainbow; of moving single blocks of polished
syenite, _nine hundred tons_ in weight, for any distance, by land
and water; of building arches, rounded and pointed, with masonic
precision unsurpassed at the present day, and antecedent by 2,000 years
to the ‘Cloaca Magna’ of Rome; of sculpturing a Doric column 1,000 {522}
years before the Dorians are known in history; of fresco painting
in imperishable colors; of practical knowledge in anatomy; and of
time-defying pyramid-building.”
“Every craftsman can behold, in Egyptian monuments, the progress of
his art 4,000 years ago; and whether it be a wheelwright building a
chariot, a shoemaker drawing his twine, a leather-cutter using the
self-same form of knife of old as is considered the best form now,
a weaver throwing the same hand-shuttle, a whitesmith using that
identical form of blow-pipe but lately recognized to be the most
efficient, the seal-engraver cutting, in hieroglyphics, such names as
Schooho’s, above 4,300 years ago—_all these_, and many more astounding
evidences of Egyptian priority, now require but a glance at the plates
of Rossellini.”
“Truly,” exclaims Mr. Peebles, “these Ramsean temples and tombs were as
much a marvel to the Grecian Herodotus as they are to us!”[775]
But, even then, the merciless hand of time had left its traces upon
their structures, and some of them, whose very memory would be lost
were it not for the _Books of Hermes_, had been swept away into the
oblivion of the ages. King after king, and dynasty after dynasty
had passed in a glittering pageant before the eyes of succeeding
generations and their renown had filled the habitable globe. The same
pall of forgetfulness had fallen upon them and their monuments alike,
before the first of our historical authorities, Herodotus, preserved
for posterity the remembrance of that wonder of the world, the great
Labyrinth. The long accepted Biblical chronology has so cramped
the minds of not only the clergy, but even our scarce-unfettered
scientists, that in treating of prehistoric remains in different parts
of the world, a constant fear is manifested on their part to trespass
beyond the period of 6,000 years, hitherto allowed by theology as the
age of the world.
Herodotus found the Labyrinth already in ruins; but nevertheless his
admiration for the genius of its builders knew no bounds. He regarded
it as far more marvellous than the pyramids themselves, and, as an
eye-witness, minutely describes it. The French and Prussian savants,
as well as other Egyptologists, agree as to the emplacement, and
identified its noble ruins. Moreover, they confirm the account given
of it by the old historian. Herodotus says that he found therein
3,000 chambers; half subterranean and the other half above-ground.
“The upper chambers,” he says, “I myself passed through and examined
in detail. In the underground ones (which _may exist till now_, for
all the archæologists know), the keepers of the building would not
let me in, for they contain the sepulchres of the kings who built the
Labyrinth, and also those of the sacred crocodiles. The upper chambers {523}
I saw and examined with my own eyes, and found them to excel all other
human productions.” In Rawlinson’s translation, Herodotus is made to
say: “The passages through the houses and the varied windings of the
paths across the courts, excited in me infinite admiration as I passed
from the courts into the chambers, and from thence into colonnades,
and from colonnades into other houses, and again into courts unseen
before. The roof was throughout of stone like the walls, and both were
exquisitely carved all over with figures. Every court was surrounded
with a colonnade, which was built of white stones, sculptured most
exquisitely. At the corner of the Labyrinth stands a pyramid forty
fathoms high, with large figures engraved on it, and it is entered by a
vast subterranean passage.”
If such was the Labyrinth, when viewed by Herodotus, what, in such
a case, was ancient Thebes, the city destroyed far earlier than
the period of Psammeticus, who himself reigned 530 years after the
destruction of Troy? We find that in his time Memphis was the capital,
while of the glorious Thebes there remained but _ruins_. Now, if we,
who are enabled to form our estimate only by the ruins of what was
already ruins so many ages before our era—are stupefied in their
contemplation, what must have been the general aspect of Thebes in
the days of its glory? Karnak—temple, palace, ruins, or whatsoever
the archæologists may term it—is now its only representative. But
solitary and alone as it stands, fit emblem of majestic empire, as if
forgotten by time in the onward march of the centuries, it testifies
to the art and skill of the ancients. He must be indeed devoid of the
spiritual perception of genius, who fails to feel as well as to see the
intellectual grandeur of the race that planned and built it.
Champollion, who passed almost his entire life in the exploration of
archæological remains, gives vent to his emotions in the following
descriptions of Karnak: “The ground covered by the mass of remaining
buildings is square; and each side measures 1,800 feet. One is
astounded and _overcome by the grandeur_ of the sublime remnants, the
prodigality and magnificence of workmanship to be seen everywhere.” No
people of ancient or modern times has conceived the art of architecture
upon a scale so sublime, so grandiose as it existed among the ancient
Egyptians; and the imagination, which in Europe soars far above our
porticos, arrests itself _and falls powerless_ at the foot of the
hundred and forty columns of the hypostyle of Karnak! In one of its
halls, the Cathedral of Notre Dame might stand and not touch the
ceiling, but be considered as a small ornament in the centre of the
hall.
A writer in a number of an English periodical, of 1870, evidently
speaking with the authority of a traveller who describes what he has
seen, expresses himself as follows: “Courts, halls, gateways, pillars {524}
obelisks, monolithic figures, sculptures, long rows of sphinxes, are
found in such profusion at Karnak, that the sight is too much for
modern comprehension.”
Says Denon, the French traveller: “It is hardly possible to believe,
after seeing it, in the reality of the existence of so many buildings
collected together on a single point, in their dimensions, in the
resolute perseverance which their construction required, and in the
incalculable expenses of so much magnificence! It is necessary that the
reader should fancy what is before him to be a dream, as he who views
the objects themselves occasionally yields to the doubt whether he be
perfectly awake.... There are lakes and mountains _within the periphery
of the sanctuary_. These two edifices are selected as examples from a
list _next to inexhaustible_. The whole valley and delta of the Nile,
from the cataracts to the sea, was covered with temples, palaces,
tombs, pyramids, obelisks, and pillars. The execution of the sculptures
is beyond praise. The mechanical perfection with which artists wrought
in granite, serpentine, breccia, and basalt, is wonderful, according
to all the experts ... animals and plants look as good as natural, and
artificial objects are beautifully sculptured; battles by sea and land,
and scenes of domestic life are to be found in all their _bas-reliefs_.”
“The monuments,” says an English author, “which there strike the
traveller, fill his mind with great ideas. At the sight of the
colossuses and superb obelisks, which seem to surpass the limits of
human nature, he cannot help exclaiming, ‘This was the work of man,’
and this sentiment seems to ennoble his existence.”[776]
In his turn, Dr. Richardson, speaking of the Temple of Dendera, says:
“The female figures are so extremely well executed, that they do all
but speak; they have a mildness of feature and expression that never
was surpassed.”
_Every one of these stones is covered with hieroglyphics, and the more
ancient they are, the more beautifully we find them chiselled._ Does
not this furnish a new proof that history got its first glimpse of the
ancients when the arts were already fast degenerating among them? The
obelisks have their inscriptions cut two inches, and sometimes more,
in depth, and they are cut with the highest degree of perfection.
Some idea may be formed of their depth, from the fact that the
Arabs, for a small fee, will climb sometimes to the very top of an
obelisk, by inserting their toes and fingers in the excavations of the
hieroglyphics. That all of these works, in which solidity rivals the
beauty of their execution, were done before the days of the Exodus,
there remains no historical doubt whatever. (All the archæologists now {525}
agree in saying that, the further back we go in history, the better and
finer become these arts.) These views clash again with the individual
opinion of Mr. Fiske, who would have us believe that “the sculptures
upon these monuments (of Egypt, Hindustan, and Assyria), moreover,
betoken a very _undeveloped_ condition of the artistic faculties.”[777]
Nay, the learned gentleman goes farther. Joining his voice in the
opposition against the claims of learning—which belongs by right to
the sacerdotal castes of antiquity—to that of Lewis, he contemptuously
remarks that “the extravagant theory of a profound science possessed
by the Egyptian priesthood from a remote antiquity, and imparted to
itinerant Greek philosophers, has been utterly destroyed (?) by Sir G.
C. Lewis[778] ... while, with regard to Egypt and Hindustan, as well as
Assyria, it may be said that the colossal monuments which have adorned
these countries since prehistoric times, bear witness to the former
prevalence of a barbaric despotism, totally incompatible with social
nobility, and, therefore, with well sustained progress.”[779]
A curious argument, indeed. If the size and grandeur of public
monuments are to serve to our posterity as a standard by which to
approximately estimate the “progress of civilization” attained by
their builders, it may be prudent, perhaps, for America, so proud
of her alleged progress and freedom, to dwarf her buildings at once
to one story. Otherwise, according to Professor Fiske’s theory, the
archæologists of A.D. 3877 will be applying to the “Ancient America”
of 1877, the rule of Lewis—and say the _ancient_ United States “may
be considered as a great _latifundium_, or plantation, cultivated by
the entire population, as the king’s (president’s) slaves.” Is it
because the white-skinned Aryan races were never born “builders,”
like the Eastern Æthiopians, or dark-skinned Caucasians,[780] and,
therefore, never able to compete with the latter in such colossal
structures, that we must jump at the conclusion that these grandiose
temples and pyramids could only have been erected under the whip of
a merciless despot? Strange logic! It would really seem more prudent
to hold to the “rigorous canons of criticism” laid down by Lewis and
Grote, and honestly confess at once, that we really know little about
these ancient nations, and that, except so far as purely hypothetical
speculations go, unless we study in the same direction as the ancient
priests did, we have as little chance in the future. We only know what
they allowed the uninitiated to know, but the little we do learn of {526}
them by deduction, ought to be sufficient to assure us that, even in
the nineteenth century, with all our claims to supremacy in arts and
sciences, we are totally unable, we will not say to build anything like
the monuments of Egypt, Hindustan, or Assyria, but even to rediscover
the least of the ancient “_lost_ arts.” Besides, Sir Gardner Wilkinson
gives forcible expression to this view of the exhumed treasures of old,
by adding that, “he can trace no _primitive mode_ of life, no barbarous
customs, but a sort of stationary civilization _from the most remote
periods_.” Thus far, archæology disagrees with geology, which affirms
that the further they trace the remains of men, the more barbarous they
find them. It is doubtful if geology has even yet exhausted the field
of research afforded her in the caves, and the views of geologists,
which are based upon present experience, may be radically modified,
when they come to discover the remains of the ancestors of the people
whom they now style the cave-dwellers.
What better illustrates the theory of cycles than the following fact?
Nearly 700 years B.C., in the schools of Thales and Pythagoras was
taught the doctrine of the true motion of the earth, its form, and the
whole heliocentric system. And in 317 A.D., we find Lactantius, the
preceptor of Crispus Cæsar, son of Constantine the Great, teaching
his pupil that the earth was a plane surrounded by the sky, which is
composed of fire and water, and warning him against the heretical
doctrine of the earth’s globular form!
Whenever, in the pride of some new discovery, we throw a look into
the past, we find, to our dismay, certain vestiges which indicate the
possibility, if not certainty, that the alleged discovery was not
totally unknown to the ancients.
It is generally asserted that neither the early inhabitants of the
Mosaic times, nor even the more civilized nations of the Ptolemaic
period were acquainted with electricity. If we remain undisturbed in
this opinion, it is not for lack of proofs to the contrary. We may
disdain to search for a profounder meaning in some characteristic
sentences of Servius, and other writers; we cannot so obliterate them
but that, at some future day, that meaning will appear to us in all
its significant truths. “The first inhabitants of the earth,” says he,
“never carried fire to their altars, but by their prayers they brought
down the heavenly fire.”[781] “Prometheus discovered and revealed to
man the art of bringing down lightning; and by the method which he
taught to them, they brought down fire from the region above.”
If, after pondering these words, we are still willing to attribute {527}
them to the phraseology of mythological fables, we may turn to the
days of Numa, the king-philosopher, so renowned for his esoteric
learning, and find ourselves more embarrassed to deal with his case.
We can neither accuse him of ignorance, superstition, nor credulity;
for, if history can be believed at all, he was intently bent on
destroying polytheism and idol-worship. He had so well dissuaded the
Romans from idolatry that for nearly two centuries neither statues nor
images appeared in their temples. On the other hand old historians
tell us that the knowledge which Numa possessed in natural physics was
remarkable. Tradition says that he was initiated by the priests of the
Etruscan divinities, and instructed by them in the secret of forcing
Jupiter, the Thunderer, to descend upon earth.[782] Ovid shows that
Jupiter Elicius began to be worshipped by the Romans from that time.
Salverte is of the opinion that before Franklin discovered his refined
electricity, Numa had experimented with it most successfully, and
that Tullus Hostilius was the first victim of the dangerous “heavenly
guest” recorded in history. Titus Livy and Pliny narrate that this
prince, having found in the _Books of Numa_, instructions on the
secret sacrifices offered to Jupiter Elicius, made a mistake, and, in
consequence of it, “he was struck by lightning and consumed in his own
palace.”[783]
Salverte remarks that Pliny, in the exposition of Numa’s scientific
secrets, “makes use of expressions which seem to indicate two distinct
processes;” the one obtained thunder (_impetrare_), the other forced
it to lightning (_cogere_).[784] “Guided by Numa’s book,” says Lucius,
quoted by Pliny, “Tullus undertook to invoke the aid of Jupiter....
But having performed the rite imperfectly, he perished, struck by
thunder.”[785]
Tracing back the knowledge of thunder and lightning possessed by the
Etruscan priests, we find that Tarchon, the founder of the theurgism of
the former, desiring to preserve his house from lightning, surrounded
it by a hedge of the white bryony,[786] a climbing plant which has
the property of averting thunderbolts. Tarchon the theurgist was much
anterior to the siege of Troy. The pointed metallic lightning-rod,
for which we are seemingly indebted to Franklin, is probably a
_re-discovery_ after all. There are many medals which seem to strongly
indicate that the principle was anciently known. The temple of Juno had
its roof covered with a quantity of pointed blades of swords.[787]
If we possess but little proof of the ancients having had any clear {528}
notions as to _all_ the effects of electricity, there is very strong
evidence, at all events, of their having been perfectly acquainted
with electricity itself. “Ben David,” says the author of _The Occult
Sciences_, “has asserted that Moses possessed some knowledge of the
phenomena of electricity.” Professor Hirt, of Berlin, is of this
opinion. Michaelis, remarks—_firstly_: “that there is no indication
that lightning ever struck the temple of Jerusalem, during a thousand
years. _Secondly_, that according to Josephus,[788] a forest of points
... of gold, and very sharp, covered the roof of the temple. _Thirdly_,
that this roof communicated with the caverns in the hill upon which the
temple was situated, by means of pipes in connection with the gilding
which covered all the exterior of the building; in consequence of which
the points would act as conductors.”[789]
Ammianus Marcellinus, a famous historian of the fourth century, a
writer generally esteemed for the fairness and correctness of his
statements, tells that “The magii, preserved perpetually in their
furnaces fire that they miraculously got from heaven.”[790] There is
a sentence in the Hindu _Oupnek-hat_, which runs thus: “To know fire,
the sun, the moon, and lightning, is three-fourths of the science of
God.”[791]
Finally, Salverte shows that in the days of Ktesias, “India was
acquainted with the use of conductors of lightning.” This historian
plainly states that “iron placed at the bottom of a fountain ... and
made in the form of a sword, _with the point upward_, possessed, as
soon as it was thus fixed in the ground, the property of averting
storms and lightnings.”[792] What can be plainer?
Some modern writers deny the fact that a great mirror was placed in the
light-house of the Alexandrian port, for the purpose of discovering
vessels at a distance at sea. But the renowned Buffon believed in
it; for he honestly confesses that “If the mirror really existed,
as I firmly believe it did, to the ancients belong the honor of the
invention _of the telescope_.”[793]
Stevens, in his work on the East, asserts that he found railroads
in Upper Egypt whose grooves were coated with iron. Canova, Powers,
and other celebrated sculptors of our modern age deem it an honor to
be compared with Pheidias of old, and strict truth would, perhaps,
hesitate at such a flattery.
Professor Jowett discredits the story of the Atlantis, in the _Timæus_; {529}
and the records of 8,000 and 9,000 years appear to him an ancient
swindle. But Bunsen remarks: “There is nothing improbable in itself
in reminiscences and records of great events in Egypt 9,000 years B.
C., for ... the Origines of Egypt go back to the ninth millennium
before Christ.[794] Then how about the primitive Cyclopean fortresses
of ancient Greece? Can the walls of Tiryns, about which, according to
archæological accounts, “even among the ancients it was reported to
have been the work of the Cyclops,”[795] be deemed posterior to the
pyramids? Masses of rock, some equal to a cube of six feet, and the
smallest of which, Pausanias says, could never be moved by a yoke of
oxen, laid up in walls of solid masonry twenty-five feet thick and over
forty feet high, still believed to be the work of men of the races
known to our history!
Wilkinson’s researches have brought to light the fact that many
inventions of what we term modern, and upon which we plume ourselves,
were perfected by the ancient Egyptians. The newly-discovered papyrus
of Ebers, the German archæologist, proves that neither our modern
chignons, skin-beautifying pearl powders, nor _eaux dentifrices_ were
secrets to them. More than one modern physician—even among those
who advertise themselves as having “made a speciality of nervous
disorders” may find his advantage in consulting the _Medical Books of
Hermes_, which contain prescriptions of real therapeutic value.
The Egyptians, as we have seen, excelled in all arts. They made paper
so excellent in quality as to be timeproof. “They took out the pith
of the papyrus,” says our anonymous writer, previously mentioned,
“dissected and opened the fibre, and flattening it by a process
known to them, made it as thin as our foolscap paper, but far more
durable.... They sometimes cut it into strips and glued it together;
many of such written documents are yet in existence.” The papyrus
found in the tomb of the queen’s mummy, and another one found in the
sarcophagus of the “Chambre de la Reine,” at Ghizeh, present the
appearance of the finest glossy white muslin, while it possesses the
durability of the best calf-parchment. “For a long time the _savants_
believed the papyrus to have been introduced by Alexander the Great—as
they erroneously imagined a good many more things—but Lepsius found
rolls of papyri in tombs and monuments of the twelfth dynasty;
sculptured pictures of papyri were found later, on monuments of the
fourth dynasty, and now it is proved that the art of writing was known
and used as early as the days of Menes, the protomonarch;” and thus it {530}
was finally discovered that the art and their system of writing were
perfect and complete _from the very first_.
It is to Champollion that we owe the first interpretation of their
weird writing; and, but for his life-long labor, we would till now
remain uninformed as to the meaning of all these pictured letters,
and the ancients would still be considered ignorant by the moderns
whom they so greatly excelled in some arts and sciences. “He was the
first to find out what wondrous tale the Egyptians had to tell, for
one who could read their endless manuscripts and records. They left
them on every spot and object capable of receiving characters....
They engraved, and chiselled, and sculptured them on monuments; they
traced them on furniture, rocks, stones, walls, coffins, and tombs,
as on the papyrus.... The pictures of their daily lives, in their
smallest details, are being now unravelled before our dazzled eyes in
the most wondrous way.... Nothing, of what we know, seems to have been
overlooked by the ancient Egyptians.... The history of ‘Sesostris’
shows us how well he and his people were versed in the art and
practice of war.... The pictures show how formidable they were when
encountered in battle. They constructed war-engines.... Homer says that
through each of the 100 gates of Thebes issued 200 men with horses
and chariots; the latter were magnificently constructed, and very
light in comparison with our modern heavy, clumsy, and uncomfortable
artillery wagons.” Kenrick describes them in the following terms: “In
short, as all the essential principles which regulate the construction
and draught of carriages are exemplified in the war-chariots of the
Pharaohs, so there is nothing which modern taste and luxury have
devised for their decoration to which we do not find a prototype
in the monuments of the eighteenth dynasty.” Springs—_metallic_
springs—have been found in them, and, notwithstanding Wilkinson’s
superficial investigation in that direction, and description of these
in his studies, we find proofs that such were used to prevent the
jolting in the chariots in their too rapid course. The bas-reliefs
show us certain melées and battles in which we can find and trace
their uses and customs to the smallest details. The heavily-armed men
fought in coats of mail, the infantry had quilted tunics and felt
helmets, with metallic coverings to protect them the better. Muratori,
the modern Italian inventor who, some ten years ago, introduced his
“impenetrable cuirasse,” has but followed in his invention what he
could make out of the ancient method which suggested to him the
idea. The process of rendering such objects as card-board, felt, and
other tissues, impenetrable to the cuts and thrusts of any sharp
weapon, is now numbered among the lost arts. Muratori succeeded but
imperfectly in preparing such felt cuirasses, and, notwithstanding the
boasted achievements of modern chemistry he could derive from it no {531}
preparation adequate to effect his object, and failed.
To what perfection chemistry had reached in ancient times, may be
inferred from a fact mentioned by Virey. In his dissertations, he shows
that Asclepiadotus, a general of Mithradates, reproduced chemically the
deleterious exhalations of the sacred grotto. These vapors, like those
of Cumæ, threw the Pythoness into the mantic frenzy.