"They take a young lad or a girl who is in the state of innocence: such they call the Pupil or Colomb: the Venerable communicates to him the power he would have had before the fall of man; which power consists mainly in commanding the pure spirits: these spirits are to the number of seven. It is said they surround the shrine, and that they govern the seven planets. Their names are Arael, Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Zobiachel, Anachiel." Nothing certainly can begin more favorably. We learn that "she the Colomb," can act in two ways, either behind a curtain, behind a hieroglyphically-painted screen with table and three candles, or before the Caraffe and showing face. If the miracle fail it can only be because she is not "in the state of innocence." An accident must be guarded against. Surely our mystic professors, both clerical and lay, will take heed to these things. Much may be learned.
Cagliostro accordingly (it is his own story) brought a little boy into the lodge, son of a nobleman there. He placed him on his knees before a table, whereon stood a bottle of pure water, and behind this some lighted candles. He made an exorcism round the boy, put his hand on head, and both in this attitude addressed their prayers to God for the happy accomplishment of the work. Having then bid the child look into the bottle, directly the child cried that he saw a garden. Knowing hereby that Heaven assisted him [why this is so proven he does not explain], Cagliostro took courage, and bade the child ask of God the grace to see the Archangel Michael. At first the child said, "I see something white; I know not what it is." Then he began jumping and stamping like a possessed creature, and cried, "Now, I see a child like myself, which seems to have something angelical (!)" All the assembly and Cagliostro himself remained speechless with emotion.... [How like this is to what we at this day have seen.] The child being anew exorcised with the hands of the Venerable on his head, and the customary prayers addressed to Heaven, he looked into the bottle, and said he saw his sister at that moment coming down stairs, and embracing one of her brothers. That appeared impossible, the brother in question being then hundreds of miles off. However Cagliostro felt not disconcerted; said they might send to the country-house, where the sister was, and see—if they chose!
Do some still doubt? Time nor paper will allow us to allay that doubt. We must, as rapidly as we can, introduce what may yet be useful in certain cases of the like kind, either in whole or in part. It is the introduction of a novice into the holy Mysteries.
"The recipiendary is led by a darksome path into a large hall, the ceiling, the walls, the floor of which are covered by a black cloth, sprinkled over with red flames and menacing serpents; three sepulchral lamps emit from time to time a dying glimmer, and the eye half distinguishes, in this lugubrious den, certain wrecks of mortality suspended by funeral crapes; a heap of skeletons forms in the centre a sort of altar; on both sides of it are piled books; some contain menaces against the perjured; others the deadly narrative of the vengeance which the invisible spirit has exacted; of the infernal evocations for a long time pronounced in vain.
"Eight hours elapse. Then phantoms, trailing mortuary vails, slowly cross the hall and sink in caverns, without audible noise of trapdoors or of falling. You notice only that they are gone by a fetid odor exhaled from them.
"The novice remains four and twenty hours in this gloomy abode, in the midst of a freezing silence. A rigorous fast has already weakened his thinking faculties. Liquors prepared for the purpose first weary and at length wear out his senses. At his feet are placed three cups, filled with a drink of a greenish color. Necessity lifts them to his lips: involuntary fear repels them.
"At last appear two men: looked upon as the ministers of Death. These gird the pale brow of the recipiendary with an auroral-colored-ribbon dipped in blood, and full of silvered characters mixed with our lady of Loretto. He receives a copper crucifix, of two inches length: to his neck are hung a sort of amulets wrapped in violet cloth. He is stripped of his clothes; which two ministering brethren deposit on a funeral pile, erected at the other end of the hall. With blood on his naked body are traced crosses. In this state of suffering and humiliation, he sees approaching with large strides five Phantoms armed with swords, and clad in garments dropping blood. Their faces are vailed: they spread a velvet carpet on the floor; kneel there, pray; and remain with outstretched hands crossed on their breasts, and faces fixed on the ground in deep silence. An hour passes in this painful attitude. After which fatiguing trial, plaintive cries are heard; the funeral pile takes fire, yet casts only a pale light; the garments are thrown on it and burnt. A colossal and almost transparent figure rises from the very bosom of the pile. At sight of it the five prostrated men fall into convulsions insupportable to look on: the too faithful image of those foaming struggles wherein a mortal, at hand-grips with a sudden pain, ends by sinking under it.
"Then a trembling voice pierces the vault, and articulates the formula of those execrable oaths that are to be sworn: my pen falters: I think myself almost guilty to retrace them."
Strange as it may seem, we stop here with Monsieur the Author. Strange too that some deny the reality of all this—and tell of magic lanterns and science—stranger still that men are who believe all—all—'tis to them a spasmodic miracle, and he is an infidel of course who doubts. Strange too is it, that men do not see here the monstrous power of what is called Symbolism, and that they should not help nor hinder; who say, Let the world go—who cares! Men live and women too who say, "There's something in it"—there must be! and is there not? Figure now all this boundless cunningly devised agglomerate of royal arches, deaths' heads, hieroglyphically painted screens, "columns in the state of innocence, with spacious masonic halls—dark, or in the favorablest theatrical light-and-dark: Kircher's magic lantern, Belshazzar handwritings (of phosphorus), plaintive tones, gong-beatings, hoary head of a supernatural Grand Cophta emerging through the gloom—and how it all acts, not only directly through the foolish senses of men, but also indirectly connecting itself with Enoch and Elias, with philanthropy, immortality," &c. Let such as will now say there is nothing in it—something there is, for a thoughtful man to consider well of, asking himself what also does this of clairvoyance, and spiritual knockings, and Jenny-Lind manias, and Jerkers—truly mean? and what kind of a person am I who have had part and lot with these?
But the lofty science of Egyptian Masonry flourishes, lodges are established over Europe, and the Grand Master travels hither and thither, "mounts to the seat of the Venerable, and holds high discourse, hours long, on masonry, morality, universal science, divinity, and things in general," with a "sublimity, and emphasis and unction," proceeding it appears "from the special inspiration of the Holy Ghost." He is received with shouts and exultation—every where the great heart of man thrills at the coming of this mystic symbol, which contains—cunningly enfolded, as their eyes can and do see—every virtue, every greatness—is he not indeed the Incarnation of these, and therefore to be worshipped; such gift of reverence is in the heart of man, and to such things does he again and again bow down!