TWILIGHT VISIONS.

(To be continued.)

——*———

“TheLordappeared of old unto me, saying, ‘Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with loving-kindness have I drawn thee.’”—Jer.xxxi., 3.

“In life, in death, O Lord! abide with me!”Thou, Ruler o’er the Living Rosy Cross—Great Master Mason of the mortal frame,Which is the temple of the Holy Ghost—Grand Power of all who through the secret sunDost hold the soul in tenement of clayTo guide it safely through the gloom of nightInto the golden morn, when all things thenIn Light of Love—thine own Eternal Self—Shall truly stand revealed to those that striveIn truth to know the Power which all mankindShall worship in the Universal King.* * * * *My children! saith the living God of Love,Now “if with all your hearts ye truly seek,”[153]Ye surely shall find me your King in Heaven,And finding me shall know yourselves to beAnointed Princes—Rulers of the Earth—The Powers of Light sent by me in the flesh,And named Michael! You are here to fight,To hurl down Satan to his black abyss,Where ignorance and error, sin and crime,And hellish spirits dark for ever dwellWith all who in the bonds of slaveryLead deathly lives as creatures of the world—The wretched earth-worms of that bounden sphere,Which is the only Hell mankind can know!* * * * *The night is now far spent, and in the skyFrom out a dark blue setting there hath shoneIn ages past, as now, full many a starProclaiming to mankind the Light of Heaven,Each with its own peculiar brilliancyIllumining the minds of men with raysWhich point to other realms beyond this world,And ever tell of one star differingIn glory from its fellow star on high.What great and hidden meaning lieth here!Why are the stars above held forth to manAs entities which tell of other states?The Stars of Heaven are never seen by man;As man, he cannot know that glorious lightSent forth—from States of Wisdom not in skies—Through brilliant rays which meet not mortal gaze,And are invisible save to the oneWho—seeing through perception—contacts light,That Light of ancient days, since passed awayInto the sombre gloom of deepest night;Because in ignorance and selfishnessMan willed to dwell in darkness on this earth.And now behold the fallen Lucifer!—Thou Morning Star of Truth—again arise—To touch with thy bright rays the mind of manAnd open to his gaze the Light of Love,Reflected in the silv’ry Crescent nowAbout to crown the Living Cross of Truth.* * * * *Shine forth, fair Luna! Man hath waited longFor thee—O bringer of the Golden Light.Surmount the Cross—thou Goddess of the Gods—Which suff’ring mortals here in agonyHave borne along, desiring of their King—Of whom thou art—those better things on earth,Which He hath promised them in days of old,Shall take the place of former things to pass—With mourning, weeping, bitterness, and death—Away for ever, as the first-born statesOf Heaven and earth and sea no more to be.[154]* * * * *Fair Keeper of the rays shed by the Sun!Whilst feeble mortals now deny thy power,We of the morn declare thee as thou art;The mediate force to govern all mankind,The force of love which mortals cannot know.For that man holds as love is passion foul:It hath transformed the earth into a hell,And none save thou can mediately standTo rid the earth—by Truth who comes from thee—From that curs’d tyrant in the world or hell,The devil—Satan—he that doth deceive,Accuser of our brethren, soon to beBound hand and foot in heaven, then cast to earth,When angels dark and all who fight for himShall fall with him through Michael’s power and might.[155]* * * * *The grandest vision seen in heaven from earthHas burst upon the wond’ring mind of man,For woman has appear’d with Sun array’d—She stands on Luna, o’er her holy browA coronet of twelve bright golden stars:She crieth out and travaileth in painTo be delivered of the Child of Truth,Which is, in love, to rule mankind as one,The one great body in the SpiritChrist[156]Who cometh now a second time to manThrough her who clothes him with a mortal form,Our Holy Mother in the Living God.And yet about the woman, as of old,Damned Satan’s lurks, with seven diadems—The dragon stands as knowledge of the World,Which would devour the holy child of God.But so-called knowledge is not ever true,Frail mortals know not that the states of HeavenPermit below themselves the states of HellTo be—that mortals there may feel the Truth—The everlasting fire, consuming Self—Destroying all the former things in manThrough fiery sufferings induced by self,Through freedom granted by a Loving God.The Universal King in love ordainsThat man shall ever reap the crop he sows,And so the Woman clothed with the Sun,Who sows the seed of love amongst mankind,Shall reap the fruits of love in Heaven—her home—Where happiness and peace eternal reign,Wherein the dragon hath no place—no power.All hail! thou glorious Bride, in Light array’d,O, woman, clothed with the Bridegroom’s Power,[157]Arise and shine! The time is now at handTo change this earth into a heaven bright,This hell into a paradise of Saints;Through thee alone can mortals rise from earthTo soar into Eternity—God’s Peace;Through thee alone can man perceive the light—The Sun of Wisdom,[158]which shall soon appearAcknowledged King supreme of all that is,Which He hath made in love for all mankind.Woman! behold a groaning world awaitsThe crushing of the Serpent’s power through thee;Look on the fairest cities of this globe,In misery the love-starved of the earthNow walk the streets; whilst degradation vileConfronts them in their daily—hourly lives,Because mankind will sell itself for goldTo one, who is the prince of hell; he rulesThe States of falsehood in this mortal worldWherein the moaning of tormented soulsAppeals to God[159]in mortal agonyTo ease the burdens of their earthly livesBy teaching them of thee, O Queen of Heaven!* * * * *Woman, behold the sighing, wretchedness,Depravity, disease and death on earth!Pure life has left these mortals who transgressThe laws of God by being of the world;They know not happiness and peace and thee.Thou art of nations all, the Saving Health.Stretch forth thine hands and save, O Queen of Heaven!* * * * *Woman! behold the man of war existsWhose work it is to shed the blood of himWho truly is a portion of thyself;Nay more, thineALL, within this weary state;The Father of thy loved ones in the flesh!How long wilt thou permit ungodly strifeTo keep thee from thy lawful throne on earth,The one great Empire that shall bow to thee,That thou alone can’st rule, Queen of the South?[160]O, Bride of Heaven, thou knowest well that He—The Son of Man—thy bridegroom—came to save,Not to destroy, the lives of men on earth![161]* * * * *Great Spirit Love! Bright Queen of Highest Heaven,Send forth thy potent force, and let it fireThe hearts of all within this little sphere;Show worldly rulers in their sinful statesThat thou alone art Queen of all Mankind;And in these petty princes of the earthDestroy, we pray thee, all the mortal lustsOf self, of gold, and praise, and feeble power,Implanted in their natures by the oneWho rules them with their subjects in this hellCreated by themselves through ignoranceOf thee, O, Spirit Love, Blest Queen of Heaven!

“In life, in death, O Lord! abide with me!”

Thou, Ruler o’er the Living Rosy Cross—

Great Master Mason of the mortal frame,

Which is the temple of the Holy Ghost—

Grand Power of all who through the secret sun

Dost hold the soul in tenement of clay

To guide it safely through the gloom of night

Into the golden morn, when all things then

In Light of Love—thine own Eternal Self—

Shall truly stand revealed to those that strive

In truth to know the Power which all mankind

Shall worship in the Universal King.

* * * * *

My children! saith the living God of Love,Now “if with all your hearts ye truly seek,”[153]Ye surely shall find me your King in Heaven,And finding me shall know yourselves to beAnointed Princes—Rulers of the Earth—The Powers of Light sent by me in the flesh,And named Michael! You are here to fight,To hurl down Satan to his black abyss,Where ignorance and error, sin and crime,And hellish spirits dark for ever dwellWith all who in the bonds of slaveryLead deathly lives as creatures of the world—The wretched earth-worms of that bounden sphere,Which is the only Hell mankind can know!

My children! saith the living God of Love,

Now “if with all your hearts ye truly seek,”[153]

Ye surely shall find me your King in Heaven,

And finding me shall know yourselves to be

Anointed Princes—Rulers of the Earth—

The Powers of Light sent by me in the flesh,

And named Michael! You are here to fight,

To hurl down Satan to his black abyss,

Where ignorance and error, sin and crime,

And hellish spirits dark for ever dwell

With all who in the bonds of slavery

Lead deathly lives as creatures of the world—

The wretched earth-worms of that bounden sphere,

Which is the only Hell mankind can know!

* * * * *

The night is now far spent, and in the skyFrom out a dark blue setting there hath shoneIn ages past, as now, full many a starProclaiming to mankind the Light of Heaven,Each with its own peculiar brilliancyIllumining the minds of men with raysWhich point to other realms beyond this world,And ever tell of one star differingIn glory from its fellow star on high.

The night is now far spent, and in the sky

From out a dark blue setting there hath shone

In ages past, as now, full many a star

Proclaiming to mankind the Light of Heaven,

Each with its own peculiar brilliancy

Illumining the minds of men with rays

Which point to other realms beyond this world,

And ever tell of one star differing

In glory from its fellow star on high.

What great and hidden meaning lieth here!Why are the stars above held forth to manAs entities which tell of other states?The Stars of Heaven are never seen by man;As man, he cannot know that glorious lightSent forth—from States of Wisdom not in skies—Through brilliant rays which meet not mortal gaze,And are invisible save to the oneWho—seeing through perception—contacts light,That Light of ancient days, since passed awayInto the sombre gloom of deepest night;Because in ignorance and selfishnessMan willed to dwell in darkness on this earth.And now behold the fallen Lucifer!—Thou Morning Star of Truth—again arise—To touch with thy bright rays the mind of manAnd open to his gaze the Light of Love,Reflected in the silv’ry Crescent nowAbout to crown the Living Cross of Truth.

What great and hidden meaning lieth here!

Why are the stars above held forth to man

As entities which tell of other states?

The Stars of Heaven are never seen by man;

As man, he cannot know that glorious light

Sent forth—from States of Wisdom not in skies—

Through brilliant rays which meet not mortal gaze,

And are invisible save to the one

Who—seeing through perception—contacts light,

That Light of ancient days, since passed away

Into the sombre gloom of deepest night;

Because in ignorance and selfishness

Man willed to dwell in darkness on this earth.

And now behold the fallen Lucifer!—

Thou Morning Star of Truth—again arise—

To touch with thy bright rays the mind of man

And open to his gaze the Light of Love,

Reflected in the silv’ry Crescent now

About to crown the Living Cross of Truth.

* * * * *

Shine forth, fair Luna! Man hath waited longFor thee—O bringer of the Golden Light.Surmount the Cross—thou Goddess of the Gods—Which suff’ring mortals here in agonyHave borne along, desiring of their King—Of whom thou art—those better things on earth,Which He hath promised them in days of old,Shall take the place of former things to pass—With mourning, weeping, bitterness, and death—Away for ever, as the first-born statesOf Heaven and earth and sea no more to be.[154]

Shine forth, fair Luna! Man hath waited long

For thee—O bringer of the Golden Light.

Surmount the Cross—thou Goddess of the Gods—

Which suff’ring mortals here in agony

Have borne along, desiring of their King—

Of whom thou art—those better things on earth,

Which He hath promised them in days of old,

Shall take the place of former things to pass—

With mourning, weeping, bitterness, and death—

Away for ever, as the first-born states

Of Heaven and earth and sea no more to be.[154]

* * * * *

Fair Keeper of the rays shed by the Sun!Whilst feeble mortals now deny thy power,We of the morn declare thee as thou art;The mediate force to govern all mankind,The force of love which mortals cannot know.For that man holds as love is passion foul:It hath transformed the earth into a hell,And none save thou can mediately standTo rid the earth—by Truth who comes from thee—From that curs’d tyrant in the world or hell,The devil—Satan—he that doth deceive,Accuser of our brethren, soon to beBound hand and foot in heaven, then cast to earth,When angels dark and all who fight for himShall fall with him through Michael’s power and might.[155]

Fair Keeper of the rays shed by the Sun!

Whilst feeble mortals now deny thy power,

We of the morn declare thee as thou art;

The mediate force to govern all mankind,

The force of love which mortals cannot know.

For that man holds as love is passion foul:

It hath transformed the earth into a hell,

And none save thou can mediately stand

To rid the earth—by Truth who comes from thee—

From that curs’d tyrant in the world or hell,

The devil—Satan—he that doth deceive,

Accuser of our brethren, soon to be

Bound hand and foot in heaven, then cast to earth,

When angels dark and all who fight for him

Shall fall with him through Michael’s power and might.[155]

* * * * *

The grandest vision seen in heaven from earthHas burst upon the wond’ring mind of man,For woman has appear’d with Sun array’d—She stands on Luna, o’er her holy browA coronet of twelve bright golden stars:She crieth out and travaileth in painTo be delivered of the Child of Truth,Which is, in love, to rule mankind as one,The one great body in the SpiritChrist[156]Who cometh now a second time to manThrough her who clothes him with a mortal form,Our Holy Mother in the Living God.And yet about the woman, as of old,Damned Satan’s lurks, with seven diadems—The dragon stands as knowledge of the World,Which would devour the holy child of God.But so-called knowledge is not ever true,Frail mortals know not that the states of HeavenPermit below themselves the states of HellTo be—that mortals there may feel the Truth—The everlasting fire, consuming Self—Destroying all the former things in manThrough fiery sufferings induced by self,Through freedom granted by a Loving God.The Universal King in love ordainsThat man shall ever reap the crop he sows,And so the Woman clothed with the Sun,Who sows the seed of love amongst mankind,Shall reap the fruits of love in Heaven—her home—Where happiness and peace eternal reign,Wherein the dragon hath no place—no power.All hail! thou glorious Bride, in Light array’d,O, woman, clothed with the Bridegroom’s Power,[157]Arise and shine! The time is now at handTo change this earth into a heaven bright,This hell into a paradise of Saints;Through thee alone can mortals rise from earthTo soar into Eternity—God’s Peace;Through thee alone can man perceive the light—The Sun of Wisdom,[158]which shall soon appearAcknowledged King supreme of all that is,Which He hath made in love for all mankind.Woman! behold a groaning world awaitsThe crushing of the Serpent’s power through thee;Look on the fairest cities of this globe,In misery the love-starved of the earthNow walk the streets; whilst degradation vileConfronts them in their daily—hourly lives,Because mankind will sell itself for goldTo one, who is the prince of hell; he rulesThe States of falsehood in this mortal worldWherein the moaning of tormented soulsAppeals to God[159]in mortal agonyTo ease the burdens of their earthly livesBy teaching them of thee, O Queen of Heaven!

The grandest vision seen in heaven from earth

Has burst upon the wond’ring mind of man,

For woman has appear’d with Sun array’d—

She stands on Luna, o’er her holy brow

A coronet of twelve bright golden stars:

She crieth out and travaileth in pain

To be delivered of the Child of Truth,

Which is, in love, to rule mankind as one,

The one great body in the SpiritChrist[156]

Who cometh now a second time to man

Through her who clothes him with a mortal form,

Our Holy Mother in the Living God.

And yet about the woman, as of old,

Damned Satan’s lurks, with seven diadems—

The dragon stands as knowledge of the World,

Which would devour the holy child of God.

But so-called knowledge is not ever true,

Frail mortals know not that the states of Heaven

Permit below themselves the states of Hell

To be—that mortals there may feel the Truth—

The everlasting fire, consuming Self—

Destroying all the former things in man

Through fiery sufferings induced by self,

Through freedom granted by a Loving God.

The Universal King in love ordains

That man shall ever reap the crop he sows,

And so the Woman clothed with the Sun,

Who sows the seed of love amongst mankind,

Shall reap the fruits of love in Heaven—her home—

Where happiness and peace eternal reign,

Wherein the dragon hath no place—no power.

All hail! thou glorious Bride, in Light array’d,

O, woman, clothed with the Bridegroom’s Power,[157]

Arise and shine! The time is now at hand

To change this earth into a heaven bright,

This hell into a paradise of Saints;

Through thee alone can mortals rise from earth

To soar into Eternity—God’s Peace;

Through thee alone can man perceive the light—

The Sun of Wisdom,[158]which shall soon appear

Acknowledged King supreme of all that is,

Which He hath made in love for all mankind.

Woman! behold a groaning world awaits

The crushing of the Serpent’s power through thee;

Look on the fairest cities of this globe,

In misery the love-starved of the earth

Now walk the streets; whilst degradation vile

Confronts them in their daily—hourly lives,

Because mankind will sell itself for gold

To one, who is the prince of hell; he rules

The States of falsehood in this mortal world

Wherein the moaning of tormented souls

Appeals to God[159]in mortal agony

To ease the burdens of their earthly lives

By teaching them of thee, O Queen of Heaven!

* * * * *

Woman, behold the sighing, wretchedness,Depravity, disease and death on earth!Pure life has left these mortals who transgressThe laws of God by being of the world;They know not happiness and peace and thee.Thou art of nations all, the Saving Health.Stretch forth thine hands and save, O Queen of Heaven!

Woman, behold the sighing, wretchedness,

Depravity, disease and death on earth!

Pure life has left these mortals who transgress

The laws of God by being of the world;

They know not happiness and peace and thee.

Thou art of nations all, the Saving Health.

Stretch forth thine hands and save, O Queen of Heaven!

* * * * *

Woman! behold the man of war existsWhose work it is to shed the blood of himWho truly is a portion of thyself;Nay more, thineALL, within this weary state;The Father of thy loved ones in the flesh!How long wilt thou permit ungodly strifeTo keep thee from thy lawful throne on earth,The one great Empire that shall bow to thee,That thou alone can’st rule, Queen of the South?[160]O, Bride of Heaven, thou knowest well that He—The Son of Man—thy bridegroom—came to save,Not to destroy, the lives of men on earth![161]

Woman! behold the man of war exists

Whose work it is to shed the blood of him

Who truly is a portion of thyself;

Nay more, thineALL, within this weary state;

The Father of thy loved ones in the flesh!

How long wilt thou permit ungodly strife

To keep thee from thy lawful throne on earth,

The one great Empire that shall bow to thee,

That thou alone can’st rule, Queen of the South?[160]

O, Bride of Heaven, thou knowest well that He—

The Son of Man—thy bridegroom—came to save,

Not to destroy, the lives of men on earth![161]

* * * * *

Great Spirit Love! Bright Queen of Highest Heaven,Send forth thy potent force, and let it fireThe hearts of all within this little sphere;Show worldly rulers in their sinful statesThat thou alone art Queen of all Mankind;And in these petty princes of the earthDestroy, we pray thee, all the mortal lustsOf self, of gold, and praise, and feeble power,Implanted in their natures by the oneWho rules them with their subjects in this hellCreated by themselves through ignoranceOf thee, O, Spirit Love, Blest Queen of Heaven!

Great Spirit Love! Bright Queen of Highest Heaven,

Send forth thy potent force, and let it fire

The hearts of all within this little sphere;

Show worldly rulers in their sinful states

That thou alone art Queen of all Mankind;

And in these petty princes of the earth

Destroy, we pray thee, all the mortal lusts

Of self, of gold, and praise, and feeble power,

Implanted in their natures by the one

Who rules them with their subjects in this hell

Created by themselves through ignorance

Of thee, O, Spirit Love, Blest Queen of Heaven!

Wm. C. Eldon Serjeant.

London, 28th January, 1888.

EDITORS’ NOTE.This second part of the three which form the bulk of the poem called “Twilight Visions” by their author—from a purely Kabalistic standpoint of universal symbolical Esotericism, is most suggestive. Its literary value is apparent. But literary form in occultism counts for nothing in such mystic writing if its spirit is sectarian—if the symbolism fails in universal application or lacks correctness. In this, Part II., however (of the third to come we can yet say nothing), the Christian-Judæan names may be altered and replaced by their Sanskrit or Egyptian equivalents, and the ideas will remain the same. It seems written in the universal “mystery-language,” and may be readily understood by an occultist, of whatever school or nationality. Nor will any true mystic, versed in that international tongue, whose origin is lost in the dark night of pre-historic ages, fail to recognise a true Brother, who has adopted the phraseology of the Initiates of the ancient Judæan Tanaim—Daniel and St. John of the Apocalypse—and partially that of the Christian Gnostics, only to be the more readily understood by the profane of Christian lands. Yet the author means precisely the same thing that would be in the mind of any Brahminical or Buddhist Initiate, who, while deploring the present degenerated state of things, would place all his hope in the transient character of even theKali Yuga, and trust in the speedy coming of the Kalki Avatar. We say again, the divine Science and Wisdom—Theosophia—is universal and common property, and the same under every sky. It is the physical type and the outward appearance in the dress, that make of one individual a Chinaman and of another a European, and of a third a red-skinned American. The inner man is one, and all are “Sons of God” by birth-right.The editors regret that, by an over-sight, the sub-title, “The Cross,” that headed Part I. of “Twilight Visions,” published in our January number, should have been omitted.

EDITORS’ NOTE.

This second part of the three which form the bulk of the poem called “Twilight Visions” by their author—from a purely Kabalistic standpoint of universal symbolical Esotericism, is most suggestive. Its literary value is apparent. But literary form in occultism counts for nothing in such mystic writing if its spirit is sectarian—if the symbolism fails in universal application or lacks correctness. In this, Part II., however (of the third to come we can yet say nothing), the Christian-Judæan names may be altered and replaced by their Sanskrit or Egyptian equivalents, and the ideas will remain the same. It seems written in the universal “mystery-language,” and may be readily understood by an occultist, of whatever school or nationality. Nor will any true mystic, versed in that international tongue, whose origin is lost in the dark night of pre-historic ages, fail to recognise a true Brother, who has adopted the phraseology of the Initiates of the ancient Judæan Tanaim—Daniel and St. John of the Apocalypse—and partially that of the Christian Gnostics, only to be the more readily understood by the profane of Christian lands. Yet the author means precisely the same thing that would be in the mind of any Brahminical or Buddhist Initiate, who, while deploring the present degenerated state of things, would place all his hope in the transient character of even theKali Yuga, and trust in the speedy coming of the Kalki Avatar. We say again, the divine Science and Wisdom—Theosophia—is universal and common property, and the same under every sky. It is the physical type and the outward appearance in the dress, that make of one individual a Chinaman and of another a European, and of a third a red-skinned American. The inner man is one, and all are “Sons of God” by birth-right.

The editors regret that, by an over-sight, the sub-title, “The Cross,” that headed Part I. of “Twilight Visions,” published in our January number, should have been omitted.

THE WHITE MONK.

By the Author of “A Professor of Alchemy.”(Continued.)

By the Author of “A Professor of Alchemy.”

(Continued.)

“Margaret had been in grief so sad and potent since her brother’s death, that it at last brought her into a fever, from which, with difficulty, she recovered, and which kept her long to her chamber.

“During this time the monk roamed like a restless spirit, seeming to seek her, and despairing because he found her not. Giles Hughson even went so far as to suspect he was no true priest at all, until he had seen his tonsure. Even then he was drawn into most sacrilegious surmises by what he beheld some few nights after.

“Having some work to do in Castle Troyes garden, he noted the White Monk, his lodger, glide noiselessly through the grounds, hidden behind the thick black walls of yew, and pause under the casement of Mistress Margaret and stand there listening intently for a certain space. At last, with a gesture of despair, he slung himself with infinite agile stillness up some feet of the ivy that covered the wall, from which insecure footing he did long and earnestly search if he might see her shadow cross the room. Giles, the gardener, swore afterwards that the sight of that priest, with his cowl fallen back from his dark face, and that look of straining, terrified attention had in it something so partaking of the unearthly, that for the life of him he dared not accost the daring intruder. ‘Time enough if there were need,’ he excused himself afterwards, ‘but Castle Troyes is ever well enow defended, and at that time there must have been enough of inmates watching over Margaret, the beautiful, to win her back to life.’

“The horrible recklessness of an act such as this, with the carbines of a round thirty men within a few yards of him, made the monk seem to Giles a creature of charmed life, who may not be addressed as ordinary mortals.

“But the White Monk saw his discoverer when he descended and glided away again, scared by some noise made by Margaret’s attendants. And thus there occurred a tragedy, which you shall learn as far as it was ever known.

“Now Giles Hughson had a young son afflicted with total dumbness, but whom Mistress Margaret de Troyes had taught to write; and it is through this scholarship of his that we come to know as much as we do of what really happened. The White Monk appeared fond of this boy, possibly because he had seen Margaret kiss him. Thus the lad had greater access to the monk’s small attic than any other; and this is the tale he tells of the night after Giles had espied his lodger clinging to the wall of Castle Troyes.

“The boy had noiselessly, so as not to disturb the often musings of the solitary one, stepped up the attic stairs to fetch some trifle he wanted of the monk. Pausing timidly at the door, he beheld the familiar white-clad figure, with an air of terrible malignity, mixing some powder of a greenish colour, which, at the sight of the intruder, he hastily laid aside, thinking it had not been seen.

“But the lad was unnerved by the expression he had caught on the monk’s face, and he forgot not so lightly.

“At the frugal supper, that very night, he observed the monk ate even less than was his wont, and of one dish only, the which he also pressed upon the young lad by his side, seeming to wish to keep the others from him. The others of the family, Giles Hughson and his dame, did eat as usual, and were both found dead on the morrow.

“The monk strove to comfort the poor boy by every means in his power, but it was all of no avail. The lad seized a moment, fled into the wood, and there wrote down all that he had seen and suspected, with which account he presently did seek the justices. These caused proper inquiry into the manner of the deaths of the workman and his wife to be made, and, finding they had died of potent poison, instituted careful search for the person of the White Monk, who had vanished from the cottage.

“At length they found him, in a strange state for one of his way of living. Into the wood had he gone, but not so far as that he could hide him. He had stopped beside a little brook, where he had sat when first he saw fair Margaret, the sister of his victims. There, even there, was he found, in so deep contemplation that he never heard his pursuers’ footsteps. He had made a cross of two elder branches (folk about us say that the elder-wood formed the Cross whereon Christ died), and having set it on the summit of a bank, was deep in prayer, as it seemed, before it.

“One of his Italian repentances, I doubt not.

“He seemed in sore distress of mind, and lost to all thought of his surroundings.

“So they took him; the foreign wild beast, tracked at last. But not without trouble for he fought like the panther he was. Escaping lissomely from their hands at the moment when they would have bound him, the ex-bravo snatched a genuine stiletto from the folds of his monastic frock and stabbed one man to death, laughing coarsely at the stupid astonishment of the harquebusiers to see this weapon in so unseemly a hand.

“He had no chance, being taken thus unawares, and exhaustion came upon him; so, with tremours, the officers of justice held him fast. Before the first cord was fastened round his struggling wrists, he fell back, rigid, in their arms; sighed once or twice, smiled bitterly to himself at their consternation, and flung his head back, dead.

“A small quantity of a green powder was found on him (a large dose, I ween, had killed so hardy a villain!), and by comparing the signs of death with those of Giles Hughson and his wife, they saw he had poisoned himself some time within the last five hours. Whether he had seen Margaret again, and by seeing her upon the earth, had come to know himself too bad for it; or whether the weariness attendant upon sins so heavy had worn him out at last, remains a mystery. The leeches said a man so wasted and wan as this could scarce, in the way of Nature, have lived many years longer; but I question this, and so did the men who had so great trouble to hold him!

“News travelled slowly in those days from Italy to England, and it was not until very shortly after the White Monk’s death that our town learnt it had harboured Pietro Rinucci, the slayer of the two good brothers, Ambrose and Gilbert de Troyes. No one ever told Mistress Margaret that she had spoken with such a man. And now the beautiful maiden rose from her bed, and asked for her mostly costly gowns, of amber, blue and rosy colours; and went amongst her friends brightly, wreathed with pearls and radiant in smiles. She was thought to have recovered, though she looked ethereal as a daisy or white cloud; but she said and averred that she was dying, and that her brother Ambrose had appeared to her in a vision, bidding her make all speed to do what remained to her upon the earth and be soon ready, when he should come behind the angels to fetch her hence. Her kinsfolk thought she wandered in her mind. She asked for the man who had wooed her, and held long speech with him, very merrily, and yet with tears; beseeching him to pause e’er he rashly threw away his life on this earth, since we know not in the beginning, whither our pleasant sins may carry us, and when we have no enjoyment of them, save by memory, what are they to us? The instruments of our present ruin.

“‘All this,’ said the lovely Margaret with a smile, ‘hath right off, my Lord, been heard, by you and others; but from a lady’s lips (and that lady who is even now bent to consider the past failings of her own life, soon to be taken from her) it hath been made evident to me, these poor oft-repeated words shall have some power. God bless you, my Lord—farewell.’

“The gentleman came out from her boudoir exceeding sobered, and essaying as he might to conceal his tears.

“The words of this dying angel—for so indeed she seemed—he vowed should be as a challenge to him from God to purify his ways. And indeed from that day the gentleman made such progress in godliness as can be made by one of his complexion.

“And now a strange and terrible portent was observed.

“Those who watched by the Lady Margaret, began to see a vision, and of that most dreaded being, the White Monk!

“Night or day, it mattered not; with a chill like to that of Deathitself, the horrified watchers knew the presence of the phantom. In the dark corners of the room would shape themselves dimly the features of the murderer, Rinucci, and his monastic gown, so glaring white in its dimness through the dark that the eye could not search it, and gone, ever gone, if some bold spirit neared the spot where he had thought he saw it.

“No“Noone said aught of this to the Lady Margaret, in fear to fright her; and she alone, of all who watched, did never see nor feel the constant presence. It seemed sometimes as though the phantom yearned to make itself visible to her kind, half-divine eyes, but her thoughts were too high-set for it to be given her to see a sight so horrible.

“She was much upheld by visions then—her contemplative soul shaped to itself many fair sights and sounds that others knew not. Sitting by the open casement in her sun-coloured gown, with white arms, pearl encircled, leaning out, and her smile ever brighter as she murmured to herself, she would stretch far over the lattice and grasp at rosy clouds, which she said floated past her in the peopled air. She would reply, still leaning out and smiling, to what she vowed was said to her by wandering happy spirits. And all this while, behind her, there would stand the White Mystery, with slight hand lifting the cowl from a face whose eyes were as deep as death and more despairing.

“Small marvel that the murderer’s ghost should cling to our saint while she yet lived on earth! He may have known that, once dead, restored to Heaven, she would thenceforth move in worlds where such as he should never have the force to breathe.

“And in her due hour she died; and after that for a space no one saw aught of the dread ghost. His spirit, drawn by some power to enter our house, wherein was held all he knew of goodness, had now no further business there, for a while. His loathed name, fraught with horror to your ancestors’ home, was now never spoken. It was thought, doubtless, that since Margaret de Troyes—the innocent avenger—had unwittingly caused the murderer’s death, the house he had so deeply injured was for ever free from his godless presence. And, indeed, for a while, the chronicles are silent respecting him. The next two generations were happy, and no great misfortune blasted the house. But in the third generation there were harsh feuds in the city, and much bloodshed, and several of your name came to violent and sometimes mysterious ends. Then it was that there arose a searching into past traditions to discover the secret of a certain white spectre said to appear about the castle previous to each calamity. Not all saw it; but still it grew known, and it bore a marked resemblance to an ancient portrait—hung up for curiosity’s sake—of Pietro Rinucci.

“Well, young master, I myself served your grandfather, and I myselfcan bear witness to the presence of the White Monk’s ghost on one of the shrewd moments of the family destinies. Wilt hear it? So your father was then a stalwart young man, away at the wars in Spain. Your uncles, two blithe young gallants, were at home at the time I speak of, and there was some merry-making toward in the castle. Myself was seeing to the torches in the garden, when I chanced to see your uncle, Geoffrey de Troyes, come hastily into the yew-walk with his rapier drawn, followed by another youth whom I knew well, his rival, and in some sort, his enemy.

“As the guests danced within, these nobles fought without. A man dared not have interposed; it was matter of life and death to them, and they were there to prove it.

“I was glad, as I stood on the further side the hedge, to mark the vigour and the skill of our Geoffrey. Methought the vantage was with him, and with my whole heart I hated his opponent, the cold, selfish Ernle Deane, and wished him to succumb.

“And so, by mine honour, he should have done, for my boy was the pride of us all for swordsmanship; but it was not to be.

“Geoffrey de Troyes never suffered more from his mortal wound than I did in my heart and my pride, as I led him, bleeding piteously to this very stable-room, where he sank on the hay and said he must die.

“‘Look to it,’ groaned the poor young noble, as he lay dying, ‘that Mistress Beatrice Savile has this token from me—my gold chain—warn her from me when I am dead, that she wed not Ernle Deane—he is bad to the core, and she is too good to mend him. Oh! but for that hateful vision!’

“‘What vision, a God’s name?’ I cried.

“And he told me trembling—he who had never trembled of his whole life!—that even at the moment when he had thought to subdue his enemy—even as he raised his sword to strike home to a worthless heart—even then had his arm fallen paralysed and a frightful shiver quite unmanned him at the sight of a poor monk in white, who stood some yards away, and raised his cowl with a thin white hand, and fixed unearthly eyes upon him with a steadfast look that drew the soul away from the deadliest earthly peril.

“‘And so I fell!’ cried the shamed noble, crimsoning though the pallor of exhaustion. ‘I—a practised hand, a not unworthy courage—a De Troyes! I fell—for this!—and so would any man have fallen,’ he defiantly ended, ‘for ’twas a devil—’twas Pietro Rinucci himself, who came from hell to lure me from my hopes of earthly happiness. O, life! O, Beatrice!’

“And I nursed him and wept over him like any woman, whilst one young, bright life more departed,

“In truth, young master,” ended honest Ralph, “the noble Geoffreymay have been deceived, and fancied this; but, you shall pardon me, I would rather think that armies of devils nightly march these grounds than that one De Troyes was ever seen to quail, save under magic! Thus it is that I, and that many of us yet believe in the spectre of Pietro Rinucci, ‘the White Monk.’”

Oh these faithful servitors, they would die for us children of the house, I believe, and yet they have ever this curious bent to terrify the childish minds. I know not when it was precisely that I thus first heard the White Monk’s story, but this I know, I was young enough to sit with my clenched fistlets supporting my chin, and my eyes and mouth very wide open.

“And was he always inwhite, that fearful man?” I asked, somewhere toward the middle of the story. “Always in white?” I know not why, but this detail struck my child’s phantasy more powerfully than all the rest;thiswas awful, this was the pith of the whole matter, and from that moment I sat trembling, and drinking in the history with reluctant suspense, until it became the bane of my life for a term of years.

For hours I lay shuddering ofttimes in my bed, dreading with my body and my soul lest the Monk should appear to me! And never had I courage to speak of this to anyone of the many loving house mates who would so promptly have put an end to my fears by leaving me no more alone at night. There is a keen, hard honour for children to maintain, and to them the confession of nocturnal terror is as flight to the soldier. So, as the banquet sped its course below, I shuddered lonely in my bed in the oaken room, often weeping angrily amidst my fears because I alone, the only son of the house, was the only soul in it left desolate.

A little later I was comforted in some sort by my baby sister Margaret, who was put to sleep in an adjacent cot, and being too tiny for Fear to reach, would sleep secure, all gold and white in the dusky gleam of our rushlight—the one oasis of hope throughout the terrible oaken room. Yet she in her turn, became a source of fear to me. Should the Monk appear, and should the dire extremity cause me to shriek, what would become of Marguerite? She would die of sudden terror. Worse—if he should stand by her bedside, raising his cowl off the awful face, and her blue eyes should open at that instant? How should I protect her?

But before I wander further, I must begin straight and tell how we lived, and where, and to what end.

Percy Ross.

(To be continued.)

AN AUTO-HYPNOTIC RHAPSODY.

“When all desiresthat dwell in the heartcease, then the mortal becomes immortal, and obtains Brahman.When all the fetters of the hearthere on earthare broken;When all that bind us tothis lifeis undone, then the mortal becomes immortal—here my teaching ends.”

“When all desiresthat dwell in the heartcease, then the mortal becomes immortal, and obtains Brahman.

When all the fetters of the hearthere on earthare broken;

When all that bind us tothis lifeis undone, then the mortal becomes immortal—here my teaching ends.”

—Katha Upanishad.

I (Âtman) have crossed the sea—I have reached the other shore—I have triumphed over gravitation, my soul is in the sun-currents, moving sunwards with the sun.

Where the currents are bearing me to I scarcely know, but yet something has been revealed.

I died the mystical death, I was received by the Dawn-Maidens—the bright ones of the eternal twilights, the two bright Ushas, Ahana and Antigone, Isis, and Nephtys of Aanru.[162]

The Ahana-Aurora of Eternity laid me asleep on her bosom, giving meamrita[163]to drink, as Hebe gave to Herakles, and then I at once knew that I (Atman) was immortal; the Mask of Personality had fallen to earth, the Âtma was revealed—my trueSelf—I knew my name, and found myself soaring sunwards. Then the Voice of thatDawnsaid, “I give you the ‘Amrita’ of the cessation of deaths,” and her lips burning with sun-ardours, kissed my forehead, and said, “I bring you to the sun; when blind—on earth, that Sanskara of sorrow—you fancied your sun was nothing but a great centre of physical force—light and heat, and their equivalents; but it was Maya, the Earth-Queen of illusions, who thus deceived your earth eyes. Look now, and you can see nothing but a vast group of mighty spirit-wills clustered round a yet mightier Spirit centre, drawing from thence inspiration, and ever-radiating sun effluxes, for the good and advancement of those unhappy lower wills yet sunk in the earth. What you called light was intelligence, and heat was—love. Did not Koré suggest this to you, O my weak child, for she, too, was one of the Ushas, a Maiden of the Dawn, kindling your soul to love?”

I was silent to this question, for a dread sorrow clung to me.

“Though” (began again the Voice) “the sun-souls attract the earth-souls, the lost ones, for a while, to bring them up to themselves by the path that leads to Nirvana[164]‘where there is no sorrow’; yet the sun-groupsof Spirits are themselves attracted by a grander centre of force, and the Sun, with his planet-children, are speeding in a mighty orbit round a far mightier Soul-centre—the lost Pleiad—lost on earth to be found in Heaven. Dost thou not hear the solemn music of that tempest flight?” And then she touched my ears, and I heard the myriad voiced song of the blessed ones as they passed on rejoicing, and the Voice continued: “That lost Pleiad, the dove-woman, the ‘Woman Clothed with the Sun,’ who, as Jeremiah prophesied, should ‘compass man,’ is that eternal womanhood which attracts all men.” And the chorus of the psalm I heard them sing, as they passed on Pleiad-ward, was “Freedom and Love—Love in Bi-unity. The Two in One foretold has come even to earth.” And the souls in that Pleiad-world are infinite in number as the sands of the seas of countless worlds, elective affinities attract like to like, forming celestial choirs, each member of which breathes the akasian air synchronously with the other, and what you call in your earth-symbol-language their “hearts,” beat and throb in unison together as one heart, and thus become coalesced in, and by, love.

“Listen, O my child, to the music of their breathing,” and I said, “Is Koré there?” Then I heard voices in Heaven, and I began to breathe the interior akasa breath synchronously with her—our breaths became one, I was mingled with, and melted in her; and lo! a great mystery! that Dawn-maiden changed to Koré, and Koré gave me the amrita of the Pleiad, and I knew that our biune love was immortal.

I have passed over the deep waters, I am free, I have infinite peace and infinite joy, at rest for ever.

Have I not, like Herakles, slept on the bosom of Athéné, breathing the wisdom of her breaths? I, too, breathe internally akasian love-breaths, I live in the love-choirs of the Pleiad Sun, I am in the true Nirvana, where there is no sorrow and no desire, for desire is lost in an ever-abiding and eternal fruition. The Lotus has bloomed in the Sun-fire,[165]and my soul is newborn in the pure white calyx, and floats down the golden waters that wash the eternal shores. I have found the “Path,” “suffering, and the cause of suffering” (separation from the loved one) have been seen, and have passed away, whilst we ever rise and pass onwards by the star-paths. I am no more blind, but, like Orion of old, gazing eastwards on that rising sun, the red flush of whose dawn is ever blushing in our central souls. I have received my sight.—Om....

A. J. C.Lucerne.

A. J. C.

Lucerne.

Since writing the foregoing, A. J. C. has met with the following note contained in Mr. Edwin Arnold’s interesting essay, “Death and Afterwards,”which throws light on the views in said Rhapsody: “That which safely bears our ‘solid world’ in the gulfs of space is no base or basis, no moveless central rock, butthrobbing energiesin complex and manifold action,in swing and wave and thrill; whirling us onward in mighty sweeps of three-foldrythmrythmto which our hearts are set. So therefore not solidity of base in fixity of status is our supreme and vital need, but movingpower beyond our ken or senses; known to us inenergising action, and working through blue ‘void’; impelling us in rings of spiral orbit round a moving sun in which we are dependent.”

The same book contains Walt Whitman’s beautiful and striking poem on Death, in which the poet says:

“Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome?”

Yes, one other, the writer of the foregoing Rhapsody, has attempted a song in praise of Death the deliverer, and the Italian poet, Leopardi, stated in beautiful verse years ago that the world had two good things in it—Love and Death.

“Due belle cose ho il mondoL’amor e la Morte”...

“Due belle cose ho il mondo

L’amor e la Morte”...

When our ancient brethren, the Kabalists, Jewish as well as Oriental, taught that the divine monad, starting on its long journey from the bosom of the Infinite One was divided into halves, they had a double meaning, one exoteric, the other esoteric. The exoteric one, being that the two halves, swept through cycles upon cycles of time, in search of each other; and, that, when they finally met, in a perfect union, or marriage, the two halves became one on earth, and after death, united again. The true explanation, however, the esoteric one, is, that each and every one of us, contains within himself, both the halves: the feminine predominating through some incarnations, the masculine through others. It adds that, when we evolute into the perfect being, the Adept, the Mahatma, both principles are in perfect harmony. Or, as the Kabalists have recorded it, harmony is in equilibrium, and equilibrium exists by the analogy of contraries. How often we discern in the most masculine of men, distinct feminine traits of character, andvice versa, in the gentlest of the fair sex, discover masculine traits.

The Jewish Kabbalists represented these two principles in the letters forming their Ineffable Name. Its first three characters mean Eve, or Eva, or Hâyah היה or woman, or by another reading it means mother, and is, in fact, the proper name as given in Genesis for Eve, “the mother of all living.” Adding the character י Yodh or Yah, the male, the number one, the masculine, we have Jehovah, or Jah-eve, or being as male-female, the perfect number—10, symbolised by the Sephirothal Adam Kadmon.

A few evenings ago, while pondering on this subject, in a room devotedto occult research, where an Eastern incense burning with a ruddy glow on the triangular-shaped altar, sent its refreshing fragrance through the apartment, my outer senses were lulled, and the inner ones came into play, and I became conscious of my other “half.” I saw standing before me, a being, whom I had hitherto considered as my guardian angel stretching out her hands to me, and saying—“my beloved one, know thy-self.”

The fire on the altar burnt low. The north-east wind, which had been blowing in furious gusts outside, lashing the bosom of the lake into white foam, died away, sounding like some far distant choral chant. An unearthly silence ensued, and seemed to pervade the infinitudes of space. A thousand voices spoke to me, saying, “Man, know thyself.” Shadowy, ghostly forms filled the apartment. One, more distinct than the rest, tall in form, clad in a long flowing garment of pure white, the long black hair falling in curly locks over his shoulders, the silky beard reaching to his waist, the light of centuries of centuries gleaming forth from his dark eyes—extended his right hand toward me. A thrill of unutterable delight passed through my being. Slowly I emerged from my earthly casket, looked for an instant at its sleeping form, then felt irresistibly drawn to the fair being, who still stood with outstretched hands, and seemed to lose myself in her. The twain had become one. The mystic union had taken place. For a few brief moments I realized the possibilities ofjnânayoga, the wisdom-power of the adepts. Space was annihilated. I could see systems upon systems of worlds, galaxies of stars, suns and systems of suns, whirling through space. I thought of some distant place, and I was there. Complex problems solved themselves quite naturally: I had become allTHOUGHT....

The extended hand of the tall form flashed before my eyes, and I became unconscious. When I awoke, I found lying on the altar a full-blown white rose. The north-east wind was again roaring in fierce gusts, the fire on the altar had died out. The mirrors had draped themselves with their curtains of black. The two interlaced triangles had merged into a circle, of pure gold in colour. Once more I took upon myself my objective life. But I had solved the problem which has taken me seven years to solve. I was content....

“Bertrand Stonex,” F.T.S.

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