CHAPTER V

SOME FAMOUS SORCERERS AND MAGICIANS

Amidst a great multiplicity of commentaries and studies on the work of

Dante, no one, that we are aware, has signalised its characteristic

in chief. The masterpiece of the glorious Ghibelline is a declaration

of war against the papacy by a daring revelation of mysteries. The

epic of Dante is Johannite and Gnostic; it is a bold application of

Kabalistic figures and numbers to Christian dogmas, and is further

a secret negation of the absolute element therein; his visit to the

supernatural worlds takes place like an initiation into the Mysteries

of Eleusis and Thebes. He is guided and protected by Virgil amidst the

circles of the new Tartarus, as if the tender and melancholy prophet of

the destinies of the son of Pollio were, in the eyes of the Florentine

poet, the illegitimate yet true father of the Christian epic. Thanks to

the pagan genius of Virgil, Dante emerges from that gulf above the door

of which he had read the sentence of despair; he escapes by standing

on his head, which means by reversing dogma. So does he ascend to the

light, using the demon himself, like a monstrous ladder; by the force

of terror he emerges from terror, from the horrible by the power of

horror. He seems to testify that hell is without egress for those only

who cannot go back on themselves; he takes the devil against the grain,

if I may use so familiar an expression, and attains emancipation by

audacity.[258] This is truly protestantism surpassed, and the poet of

Rome’s enemies has already divined Faust ascending to heaven on the

head of the defeated Mephistopheles. Observe also that the hell of

Dante is but a negative purgatory, by which is meant that his purgatory

seems to take form in his hell, as if in a mould; it is like the lid

or stopper of the gulf, and it will be understood that the Florentine

titan in scaling Paradise meant to kick purgatory into hell.[259]

His heaven is composed of a series of Kabalistic circles divided by

a cross, like the pantacle of Ezekiel; in the centre of this cross

a rose blossoms, thus for the first time manifesting publicly and

almost explaining categorically the symbol of the Rosicrucians. We say

for the first time because William of Lorris, who died in 1260, five

years before the birth of Dante, did not complete the _Romance of the

Rose_, his mantle falling upon Clopinel some fifty years later. It

will be discovered with a certain astonishment that the _Romance of

the Rose_ and the _Divine Comedy_ are two opposite forms of a single

work—initiation by independence of spirit, satire on all contemporary

institutions and an allegorical formula of the grand secrets of the

Brotherhood of the Rosy Cross.

These important manifestations of occultism coincide with the fall of

the Templars, since Jean de Meung, or Clopinel, a contemporary of Dante

in the old age of the latter, flourished during his best years at the

court of Philip the Fair. The _Romance of the Rose_ is the epic of

old France, a profound work in a trivial form, a revelation of occult

mysteries as instructed as that of Apuleius. The roses of Flamel, Jean

de Meung and Dante belong to the same bush.

A genius like Dante could not be an arch-heretic. Great men give an

impetus to intelligence, and the impetus takes effect subsequently

in activities which are started by restless mediocrities. It may

have been that Dante was never read and he would assuredly not have

been understood by Luther. This notwithstanding, the mission of the

Ghibellines, made fruitful by the potent thought of the poet, raised up

the empire against the papacy by slow degrees; it was continued from

century to century under various names, and in the end it made Germany

protestant. It was certainly not Luther who produced the Reformation;

it was the latter which took possession of Luther and impelled him

forward. This square-shouldered monk could boast only obstinacy and

daring, but he was the needful instrument for revolutionary ideas.

Luther was the Danton of anarchic theology; superstitious and rash,

he believed that he was obsessed by the devil; it was the devil who

dictated his arguments against the Church, made him declaim, spout

nonsense, and above all things write. The inspiring genius of all the

Cains asked nothing at that time but ink, preassured that, given this

fluid flowing from the pen of Luther, there would be presently a sea of

blood. Luther was conscious of the fact, and he hated the devil because

he was another master; one day he threw the ink-horn at his head, as

if to satiate him by the violent libation. The episode recalls that

jocular regicide who daubed his accomplices with ink when he signed the

death-warrant of Charles I.

The device of Luther was: “Turk rather than papist;” and as a fact

protestantism at its root is, like Islamism, simple Deism organised

into a conventional cultus, or if it differs therefrom it is only by

its remnants of catholicism imperfectly effaced. From the standpoint of

the negation of catholic dogma, the protestants are Moslems with a few

superstitions the more and a prophet the less.

Men renounce God less unwillingly than they give up the devil, as the

apostates of all times have proved abundantly. Speedily subdivided by

anarchy, the disciples of Luther had but one bond of belief in common;

all had faith in Satan, and this spectre, magnifying in proportion as

their spirit of revolt took them the farther from God, reached terrible

proportions at last. Carlostad, archdeacon of Würtemberg, being one day

in the pulpit, saw a black man enter the temple, take a seat in front

of him and stare at him with dreadful fixity through the entire length

of his sermon. He became anxious, left the pulpit and questioned the

assistants; but no one had seen the phantom. Carlostad returned home

in a state of dismay; he was met by the youngest of his sons, who said

that a stranger in black had inquired for him and promised to return in

three days. There was no room for doubt in the mind of the hallucinated

archdeacon; that stranger was the spectre of his vision. A fever was

brought on by his terror, he retired to bed and died before the third

day.

These unhappy heretics were afraid of their own shadows; their

consciences had remained catholic and consigned them to hell without

pity. Walking one evening with his wife Catherine de Bora, Luther

looked up to heaven, which was bright with stars, and said in an

undertone, as he sighed deeply: “Ah, beautiful sky, which I shall

never see!” “What!” exclaimed his wife. “Do you then think that you are

condemned?” Luther answered: “Who knows whether God will not punish

us for having been unfaithful to our vows?” Supposing that Catherine,

seeing his lack of self-confidence, had cursed and left him, it may

be that the reformer, overcome by the Divine Warning, would have

recognised his criminal offence in betraying that Church which was his

first spouse and would have turned weeping towards the cloister which

he had left wilfully. But God, Who withstands the proud, doubtless

found him unworthy of this saving affliction. The sacrilegious comedy

of Luther’s marriage was the providential punishment of his pride, and

as he remained obstinate in his sin, that punishment was always with

him and derided him to the end. He died between the devil and his wife,

appalled at the one and exceedingly embarrassed by the other.

Corruption and superstition are well paired together. The epoch of the

dissolute Renaissance, equally persecuting and credulous, was certainly

not that of the second birth of reason. Catherine de Médicis was a

sorceress, Charles IX consulted necromancers, Henry III played at

devotion and debauch. It was the heyday then of astrologers, though a

few of them were tortured from time to time, to make them change their

predictions. There were, moreover, the court sorcerers, who dabbled a

little in poisoning and deserved the hangman’s rope. _Trois-Échelles_,

the magician of Charles IX, was a juggler and rogue; one day he made

confession to the King and his misdeeds were not peccadillos; the King

forgave him, but promised his cure on the gallows if he had a relapse;

he did relapse, and was hanged in due course.[260]

When the League vowed the death of the weakly and miserable Henri III

it had recourse to witchcraft and Black Magic. L’Étoile[261] declares

that a wax image of the King was set on the altars where priests of the

League said Mass, and that the image was stabbed with a knife during

a prayer embodying maledictions and anathemas. When the King failed

to die with sufficient celerity, it was concluded that he was also a

sorcerer. Pamphlets were published representing Henri III as holding

conventions where the crimes of Sodom and Gomorrah were but the prelude

of more frightful and unheard of outrages. Included among the King’s

minions there was said to be one who was the devil in person, and young

virgins were abducted and prostituted by force to Beelzebub.[262]

The people believed these fables, and a fanatic was found at last

to execute the threats of sorcery. Jacques Clément suffered from

visions and imperious voices, which commanded him to kill the King;

he sought regicide like a martyr and died laughing like the heroes of

Scandinavian mythology. Scandal-mongering chronicles have pretended

that a great lady of the court supplemented the inspirations of the

monk’s solitude by the magnetism of her caresses; but the anecdote is

wanting in probability. It was the monk’s continence which promoted

his exaltation, and had he begun to lead the blind life of passion an

unsatiable appetite for pleasure would have possessed his entire nature

and he would not have been willing to die.

Whilst religious wars incarnadined the world, secret illuministic

associations, which were nothing but theurgic and magical schools, were

incorporated in Germany. The most ancient of these seems to have been

that of the Rosicrucians, whose symbols go back to the times of the

Guelphs and the Ghibellines, as we see by the allegories in the poem of

Dante and by the emblems in the _Romance of the Rose_.

The rose, which from all times has been the type of beauty, life, love

and pleasure, expressed mystically the secret thought of all protests

manifested at the Renaissance.[263] It was the flesh in rebellion

against the oppression of spirit; it was Nature testifying that, like

grace, she was a daughter of God; it was love refusing to be stifled by

the celibate; it was life in revolt against sterility; it was humanity

aspiring towards natural religion, full of reason and love, founded

on the revelations of the harmony of being, of which the rose, for

initiates, was the living floral symbol. It is in truth a pantacle; the

form is circular, the leaves of the corolla are heart-shaped and rest

harmoniously on one another; its tint offers the most harmonious shades

of the primitive colours; its calyx is of purple and gold. We have seen

that Flamel, or rather the _Book of Abraham the Jew_, represents it

as the hieroglyphical sign of the fulfilment of the Great Work.[264]

Here is the key to the romance of Clopinel and William de Lorris. The

conquest of the rose was the problem offered by initiation to science,

whilst religion was at work to prepare and to establish the universal,

exclusive and final triumph of the Cross.

The problem proposed by high initiation was the union of the

Rose and the Cross, and in effect occult philosophy, being the

universal synthesis, must take into account all phenomena of being.

Considered solely as a physiological fact, religion is the revelation

and satisfaction of a need of souls. Its existence as a fact is

scientific, and to deny it would be a denial of humanity itself. No

one has invented it; like laws and civilisations, it is formed by

the necessities of moral life. From this merely philosophical and

restrained standpoint, religion must be regarded as fatal if one

explains all by fatality, and as Divine if one confesses to a Supreme

Intelligence as the mainspring of natural laws.[265] Hence it follows

that the characteristic of every religion, properly so called, being

to depend directly from Divinity by a supernatural revelation—no other

mode of transmission providing a sufficient sanction of dogma—it must

be concluded that the true natural religion is religion that has been

revealed; this is to say, it is natural to adopt a religion only on the

understanding that it has been revealed, every true religion exhorting

sacrifices, and man having neither the power nor right to impose the

same on his fellow-creatures, outside and especially above the ordinary

conditions of humanity.

Proceeding from this strictly rational principle, the Rosicrucians

were led to respect the dominant hierarchic and revealed religion.

They could be therefore no more the enemies of the papacy than of

legitimate monarchy, while if they conspired against popes and kings,

it was because they considered these or those personally as apostates

in respect of duty and supreme abettors of anarchy.[266] What in fact

is a despot—whether spiritual or temporal—but a crowned anarchist?

It is possible to explain in this manner the protestantism and even

radicalism of certain great adepts, who were assuredly more catholic

than some popes and more monarchic than some kings—of certain eccentric

adepts, such as Henry Khunrath and the true _illuminati_ of his school.

By all but those who have made a particular study of the occult

sciences, Khunrath is practically unknown; he is a master

notwithstanding, and one of the first rank. He is a sovereign prince of

the Rosy Cross, worthy in all respects of this scientific and mystical

title.[267] His pantacles are splendid as the light of the _Book of

Splendour_, called _Zohar_; they are learned as Trithemius, precise

like Pythagoras, complete in their disclosure of the Great Work as the

book of Abraham and Nicholas Flamel.

Khunrath, who was chemist and physician, was born in 1502, and he

was forty-two years old when he attained transcendent theosophical

initiation.[268] The _Amphitheatre of Eternal Wisdom_, which is

the most remarkable of his works, was published in 1598, for the

approbation of the Emperor Rudolph annexed thereto was dated on

June 1 of the year in question.[269] Though professing a radical

protestantism, the author claims loudly the titles of catholic and

orthodox; he testifies that he possesses, but keeps secret as he ought,

a key to the Apocalypse, which key is one and threefold, even as

universal science. The division of the work is sevenfold, and through

these sections are distributed the seven degrees of initiation into

transcendental philosophy. The text is a mystical commentary on the

oracles of Solomon,[270] and the work ends with a series of synoptic

schedules which are the synthesis of Magic and the occult Kabalah—so

far as concerns that which can be made public in writing. The rest,

being the esoteric and inexpressible part of the science, is formulated

in magnificent pantacles carefully designed and engraved. These are

nine in number, as follows: (1) The dogma of Hermes; (2) Magical

realisation; (3) The path of wisdom and the initial procedure in

the work; (4) The Gate of the Sanctuary enlightened by seven mystic

rays; (5) A Rose of Light, in the centre of which a human figure is

extending its arms in the form of a cross; (6) The magical laboratory

of Khunrath, demonstrating the necessary union of prayer and work; (7)

The absolute synthesis of science; (8) Universal equilibrium; (9) A

summary of Khunrath’s personal doctrine, embodying an energetic protest

against all his detractors.[271] It is a Hermetic pantacle surrounded

by a German caricature, full of liveliness and ingenuous choler. The

philosopher’s enemies are depicted as insects, zanies, oxen, and

asses, the whole being decorated with Latin legends and gross German

epigrams. Khunrath is shewn on the right in the garb of a citizen,

and on the left in that of his student’s apartment; in both he makes

faces at his adversaries. As a townsman he is armed with a sword and

tramples on the tail of a serpent; as a student he is carrying a pair

of tongs and is crushing the serpent’s head. In public he demonstrates

and at home instructs, but as indicated by his gestures, the truth is

the same always and expressed with disdain for the impure breath of his

adversaries. The latter notwithstanding is so pestilential that the

birds of heaven fall dead at their feet. This exceedingly curious plate

is wanting in many copies of the work.

The book as a whole contains all mysteries of the highest initiation.

As the title announces, it is Christo-Kabalistic, Divine-magical,

physico-chemical, threefold-one, and universal. It is a true manual

of Transcendental Magic and Hermetic Philosophy. A more complete and

perfect initiation cannot be found elsewhere, unless indeed it is in

the _Sepher Yetzirah_ and _Zohar_. In the four important corollaries

which follow the explanation of the third figure, Khunrath establishes:

(1) That the cost of accomplishing the Great Work (apart from the

operator’s maintenance and personal expenses) should not exceed the sum

of thirty thalers. He adds: “I speak with authority, having learned

from one who had knowledge; those who expend more deceive themselves

and waste their money.” It follows that either Khunrath had not himself

composed the Philosophical Stone or did not wish to admit it for fear

of persecution. He proceeds to establish the duty of the adept not to

devote more than the tenth part of his wealth to his personal use,

the rest being consecrated to the glory of God and works of charity.

Finally, he affirms that the mysteries of Christianity and Nature

interpret and illuminate one another, and that the future reign of

Messiah will rest on the dual foundation of science and faith. The

oracles of the Gospel being thus confirmed by the book of Nature, it

will be possible to convince Jews and Mohammedans regarding the truth

of Christianity on the grounds of science and reason, so that—with the

help of Divine Grace—they will be converted infallibly to the religion

of unity. He ends with this maxim: “The seal of Nature and of Art is

simplicity.”

Contemporary with Khunrath there was another initiated doctor, Hermetic

philosopher and disciple of Paracelsian medicine; this was Oswald

Crollius, author of the _Book of Signatures, or True and Vital Anatomy

of the Greater and Lesser World_.[272] The preface to this work is a

sketch of Hermetic philosophy, exceedingly well done; Crollius seeks

to demonstrate that God and Nature have, so to speak, signed all

their works, that every product of a given natural force bears the

stamp of that force printed in indelible characters, so that he who

is initiated in the occult writings can read, as in an open book, the

sympathies and antipathies of things, the properties of substances and

all other secrets of creation. The characters of different writings

were borrowed primitively from these natural signatures existing in

stars and flowers, on mountains and the smallest pebble. The figures of

crystals, the marks on minerals, were impressions of the thought which

the Creator had in their formation. The idea is rich in poetry and

grandeur, but we lack any grammar of this mysterious language of worlds

and a methodical vocabulary of this primitive and absolute speech. King

Solomon alone is credited with having accomplished the dual labour;

but the books of Solomon are lost. The enterprise of Crollius was not

a reconstitution of these, but an attempt to discover the fundamental

principles obtaining in the universal language of the creative Word.

It was recognised on these principles that the original hieroglyphics,

based on the prime elements of geometry, corresponded to the

constitutive and essential laws of forms, determined by alternating

or combined movements, which, in their turn, were determined by

equilibratory attractions. Simples were distinguished from composites

by their external figures; and by the correspondence between figures

and numbers it became possible to make a mathematical classification

of all substances revealed by the lines of their surfaces. At the root

of these endeavours, which are reminiscences of Edenic science, there

is a whole world of discoveries awaiting the sciences. Paracelsus had

divined them, Crollius indicates them, another who shall follow will

realise and provide the demonstration concerning them. What seemed the

folly of yesterday will be the genius of to-morrow, and progress will

hail the sublime seekers who first looked into this lost and recovered

world, this Atlantis of human knowledge.

The beginning of the seventeenth century was the great epoch of

alchemy; it was the period of Philip Muller, John Torneburg, Michael

Maier, Ortelius, Poterius, Samuel Norton, Baron de Beausoleil,

David Planis Campe, Jean Duchesne, Robert Fludd, Benjamin Mustapha,

D’Espagnet, the Cosmopolite—who is in the first rank—de Nuisement, who

translated and published the Cosmopolite’s writings, John Baptist van

Helmont, Eirenæus Philalethes, Rodolph Glauber, the sublime shoemaker

Jacob Böhme.[273] The chief among these initiates were devoted to

the researches of Transcendental Magic, but they concealed most

carefully that detested name under the veil of Hermetic experiments.

The Mercury of the Wise which they desired to discover and hand on to

their disciples was the scientific and religious synthesis, the peace

which abides in the sovereign unity. The mystics themselves were but

blind believers in the true _illuminati_, while illuminism, properly so

called, was the universal science of light.

In the spring of 1623 the following strange proclamation was placarded

through the streets of Paris: “We who are the authorised messengers of

the Brothers of the Rosy Cross, making visible and invisible sojourn in

this town, by the grace of the Most High, towards Whom the hearts of

sages turn, do give instruction, without external means, in speaking

the language of the countries wherein we dwell,[274] and do rescue

men who are our fellow-workers from terror and from death. If anyone

shall seek us out of mere curiosity, he will never communicate with

us; but if he be actuated by an earnest desire to be inscribed on the

register of our fraternity, we, who are discerners of thoughts, will

make manifest to such an one the truth of our promises, so only that we

do not disclose the place of our abode, since thought in its union with

the firm will of the reader shall be sufficient to make us known to him

and him likewise to us.”

Public opinion took hold of this mysterious manifesto, and if anyone

asked openly who were those Brothers of the Rosy Cross, an unknown

personage would perchance take the inquirer apart, and say to him

gravely[275]: “Predestined to the reformation which must take place

speedily in the whole universe, the Rosicrucians are depositaries of

supreme wisdom, and as undisturbed possessors of all gifts of Nature,

they can dispense these at pleasure. In whatsoever place they may be,

they know all things which are going on in the rest of the world better

than if they were present amongst them; they are superior to hunger

and thirst and have neither age nor disease to fear. They can command

the most powerful spirits and genii. God has covered them with a cloud

to protect them from their enemies, and they cannot be seen except

by their own consent—had anyone eyes more piercing than those of the

eagle. Their general assemblies are held in the pyramids of Egypt; but,

even as the rock whence issued the spring of Moses, these pyramids

proceed with them into the desert and will follow them until they enter

the Promised Land.”

The history of magic · 第 5 / 10 章