God rest the soul of Monsieur the Count of Gabalis! who as they write me news, is lately dead of an Apoplexy. Now the Cabalists will not fail to say, that this kind of Death is ordinary to those who imprudently manage the Secrets of the Sages; and that since the Blessed Ramundus Lullius has pronounced the sentence in his last Will and Testament, a destroying Angel has ever been ready to strangle in a moment, all those who have indiscreetly revealed the Philosophick Mysteries.
But let them not so rashly condemn this Wise Man, without having better information of his conduct. ’Tis true he has discovered all to me; but not without all the Cabalistick Circumspectious requisite. I must do him the right, in giving this testimony to his memory, that he was a great Zealot for the religion of his fathers, the Philosophers; and that he would have suffered the flames, rather than have profaned the Sanctity of it, by disclosing it to any unworthy Prince, to any ambitious person, or to one that was incontinent; three sorts of people, excommunicated in all ages by the wise. By good fortune I am no Prince; I have little Ambition; and by the Sequel of this discourse, it may be seen that I have a little more Chastity than a Sage needs have. I am endued with a Docible Wit; curious of knowledge, and Bold enough: I want but a little Melancholy to make all those who would blame the Count of Gabalis, confess that he needed not have concealed any thing from me, in regard I was a Subject proper enough for the Secret Sciences. It is true that without Melancholy, no great progress can be made therein: but this little stock of it that I have, was enough to make me not to be rejected by them. You (has he said a hundred times to one) have Saturn in an Angle, in his House, and Retrograde; you cannot fail, one of these days, of being as Melancholy as a Sage ought to be: for the wisest of all men (as we know in the Cabal) had, as you have, Jupiter in the Ascendant. And yet, it was never observed, that he ever so much as once laughed, in all his life time, so powerful was his Saturn in him, though it was certainly weaker than yours.
’Tis then my Saturn, and not Monsieur the Count of Gabalis that the Virtuoso must quarrel with, if I affect more the Divulging of there Secrets, than the practising of them. If the Stars do not their duty, the Count is not in the fault, and if I have not a soul great enough to attempt to become Master of Nature, to turn the Elements upside down, to entertain the Supreme Intelligences, to command the Demons, to beget Giants, to create New Worlds, to speak to God in his High Throne, and to oblige the Cherubin, which defends the entrance of Paradise, to let me come in, and take two or three turns in his Walks; ’tis me that they must blame more or less: they must not for this insult over the memory of this Rare Man; and say that he is dead, for having blabbed all things to me. Is it impossible that amongst the wandering spirits he may not have been worsted in a conflict with some undocible Hobgoblin? Perchance he is not dead, but in appearance; following the custom of the Philosophers, who seem to Dye in one place, and transport themselves to another. Be it how it will, I can never believe, that the Manner wherewith he entrusted his Treasures to me, merited any punishment. You shall see how all things passed.
Common sense having always made me suspect that there was a great deal of Emptiness in all that which they call Secret Science, I was never tempted to lose so much time, as to turn over the leaves of those books which treat of them: but yet not finding it reasonable to condemn without knowing why, all those addicting themselves thereto, who otherwise are wise persons, very learned for the most part, and eminent both for the Gown and Sword. I took up a resolution (that I might avoid being unjust, and wearying myself with tedious reading) of feigning myself a great devotee to those sciences, amongst all those, whom I could learn were of that Gang. I had quickly better success than I could possibly hope for. Since all these gentlemen, how mysterious and how reserved soever they may seem to be, desire nothing more, than to vent their imaginations, and the new discoveries which they pretend to have made in Nature. In a few dayes I was the Confident of the most considerable amongst them, and had every day one or other of them in my study, which I had on purpose garnished with their most phantastick authors. There was never a learned Virtuoso of this kind, but I had correspondence with him. In a word, for my Zeal to this science, I quickly found that I was well approved by all. I had for my companions, Princes, Great Lords, Gown-men, Handsome Ladies, and Unhandsome too; Doctors, Prelates, Fryars, Nuns: in fine People of all Ranks and Qualities. Some of them were for converse with Angels, others with Devils, others with their Genius, others with Incubus’s; some addicted themselves to the cure of diseases, some to Star-gazing, some to the secrets of Divinity, and almost all to the Philosopher’s stone.
They all agreed, that these grand secrets, and especially the Philosopher’s stone, were hardly to be found out, and that but very few do attain to them, but they had all in particular, a very good opinion of themselves, to believe that they were of the number of the Elect. By good luck, with infinite impatiency, the most considerable of them expected at this time, the arrival of a lord, who was a great Cabalist, and whose Estate lyes upon the frontiers of Poland. He had promised by letters to the children of Philosophy in Paris to come and visit them; and so to pass from France into England. I had a Commission to write an answer to this great man: I sent him the scheme of my Nativity, that he might judge if I were capable of aspiring to the supreme wisdom. My scheme and my letter were so happy to oblige him to do me the honour of answering me; that I should be one of the first that he would see at Paris; and that, if Heaven did not oppose, there should be nothing wanting in him to introduce me into the Society of the Wise.
In the well management of my good fortune, I entertain a regular correspondence with the illustrious German: I propose to him, from time to time, great doubts, as well grounded as I could, concerning the Harmony of the World, the Numbers of Pythagoras, the Revelations of St. John, and the first chapter of Genesis. The greatness of the matter ravished him! He writ to me unheard of Wonders; and I plainly saw that I had to deal with a man of a most vigorous and most copious imagination. I was astonished one remarkable day, when I saw a man come in a most excellent Mien, who, saluting me gravely, said to me in the French tongue, but in the accents of a foreigner: Adore my son; Adore the most glorious and great God of the Sages and let not thyself be puffed up with pride, that he sends to thee one of the children of Wisdom to constitute thee a fellow of their society, and make thee partaker of the wonders of his Omnipotency.
This strange manner of salutation, did upon the sudden surprise me, and I began, at first, to question, whether or no it might not be some apparition: nevertheless, recovering my spirits the best I could, and looking upon him as civilly as the little fear I was seized with, could permit me, Whatever you be (said I to him) whose Complement savours not of this world, you do me a great honour in making me this visit. But I beseech you, if you please, before I worship this God of the Sages, let me know of what God and what Sages you speak. Do me the favour to sit down on this chair and give yourself the trouble to tell me, what this God is, and what these Sages, this Company, these Wonders of Omnipotency, and after or before all this, what kind of creature I have the honour to speak to.
Sir, you receive me most Sage-like (said he, smiling, and taking the chair which I presented him) you desire me on a sudden to explain things to you, which, if you please, I shall not resolve to-day. The Complement which I made you, are the words which the Sages use at first, to those to whom they purpose to open their hearts and to discover their mysteries. I had thought that being so wise as you seemed to me in your letters, this salutation would not have been unknown to you, and that it would be the most pleasing Complement that could be made you by the Count of Gabalis.
Ah! Sir (cried I, remembering that I had a ticklish game to play) how shall I render myself worthy of so much goodness? Is it possible that the excellentest of all men should be in my study? that the great Gabalis should honour me with his visit?
I am the least of the Sages (replied he, with a serious look) and God, who dispenses the beams of his wisdom by weight and measure, as his sovereignty pleases, has given me but a small talent, in comparison of that which I admire in my fellows. I hope that you may equal them, one day; if I durst judge of it by the scheme of your nativity, which you did me the honour to send me: but you give me cause to complain of you, Sir (added he, smiling) in taking me even now for a Spirit. Not for a Spirit, (said I to him) but I protest to you, Sir, that calling to my remembrance on a sudden, what Cardan relates of his father; that being one day in his study, he was visited by unknown persons, cloathed in divers colours; who entertained him in a pleasant discourse concerning their nature and employment. I understand you (interrupted the Count), they were Sylphes, of which I shall talk to you hereafter: they are a kind of Aerial substances; who sometimes come to consult the Sages concerning the books of Averroes, which they do not well understand. Cardan was a coxcomb, for publishing that amongst his subtilties: he had found those memories amongst his father’s papers, who was one of us, and who seeing that his son was naturally a babbler, would teach him nothing of what was most considerable; but let him puzzle his brains in Astrology, by which he was not cunning enough to prevent his sons being hanged. This ass was the cause of your doing me the injury to take me for a Sylphe. Injury (replied I!) Why, Sir, should I be so unfortunate to—I am not angry at it (interrupted he) since you are not obliged to know beforehand, that all these elementary spirits are our disciples; for they are most happy, when we will stoop so low, as to instruct them; and the least of our Sages is more knowing than all those little gentlemen. But we shall talk more at large of this, some more convenient time; it is sufficient for me to-day, that I have had the satisfaction to see you. Endeavour, my son, to make yourself worthy of receiving the Cabalistical Illuminations: the hour of your regeneration is come; the fault is your own, if you become not a new creature. He went out of my study, and I complained of his short visit, as I waited on him back, that he had the cruelty to leave me so quickly, after he had let me be so happy, as to have a glimpse of his light. But having assured me with a grand grace that I should lose nothing by this sudden departure, he got up into his coach, and left me in a surprise which I am not able to express. I could not believe my own eyes, nor my own ears: I’m sure (said I) that this is a man of great quality; that he hath an estate of five thousand pounds a year, besides he appears very accomplished. Is it possible that he can thus suffer himself to be filled with these fooleries? He has talked to me of these Sylphes with great earnestnes: should he prove a sorcerer in the upshot? and should I have been deceived till now, in believing that there were no such things? But suppose he was a Sorcerer, are there also some of them so devout as this man appears to be?