Part 4 (2/2)
”_Sin vos_,” it saith, ”if I am without thee,”
Beloved! whose thought surrounds me every where-- ”_Sin Dios_,” I am without G.o.d, ”_y mi_,”
And in myself I have no longer share.
Where pealed the clash of war, the mighty din, Where trump and cymbal crashed along the sky; High o'er the ”Il Allah!” of the Moslemin, ”G.o.d and my lady!” rang his battle-cry.
His white plume waved where fiercest raged the flight, His arm was strong the Paynim's course to stem: His foot was foremost on the sacred height, To plant the Cross above Jerusalem.
False proved the lady, and thenceforth the knight, Casting aside the buckler and the brand, Lived, an austere and lonely anchorite, In a drear mountain-cave in Holy Land.
There, bowed before the Crucifix in prayer, He would dash madly down his rosary, And cry ”Beloved!” in tones of wild despair, ”I have lost G.o.d, and self, in losing thee!”
And I, if thus my life's sweet hope were o'er, An echo of the knight's despair must be; Thus I were lost, if loved by thee no more, For, ah! myself and heaven are merged in thee.
CAGLIOSTRO, THE MAGICIAN.
WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
BY CHARLES WYLLYS ELLIOT.
”Know, then, that in the year 1743, in the city of Palermo, the family of Signor Pietro Balsamo, a shopkeeper, were exhilarated by the birth of a boy. Such occurrences have now become so frequent, that, miraculous as they are, they occasion little astonishment;” and, it may be well to add, that, except in some curious cases, there is no longer that exhilaration now felt, but, as in Ireland, a leaden sense of future woe.
We are not told by the parents that any strange or miraculous appearance attended or preceded this advent, though one cannot but believe that the future Archimagus and his followers must have had a more or less distinct opinion upon this point. Not to lose time in speculation, we learn that ”we have here found in the Count Alessandro di Cagliostro (the above-named boy), pupil of the sage, Altholas--foster-child of the Scherif of Mecca--probable son of the last king of Trebizond; named also Acharat, and unfortunate child of nature; by profession, healer of diseases, abolisher of wrinkles, friend of the poor and impotent, grand-master of the Egyptian Mason lodge of High Science, spirit summoner, gold cork, grand cophta, prophet, priest, and thaurmaturgic moralist and swindler; really a LIAR of the first magnitude; thorough-paced in all provinces of lying, what one may call their king.”
Under the common tent, the great canopy of life, it would not be fair to prejudge the mind of the reader upon so grave a thing as character, which we are now considering--it might be best to let each come to an after-thought respecting it--upon our caustic and n.o.ble author let the blame, if any, hang, while we now proceed to dip in, here and there, to his magic page.
As the boy grows, we learn, that ”as he skulks about there, plundering, pilfering, playing dog's-tricks, with his finger in every mischief, he already gains character. Shrill housewives of the neighborhood, whose sausages he has filched, whose weaker sons maltreated, name him Beppo Maldetto, and indignantly prophecy that he will be hanged--a prediction which the issue has signally falsified.” We also may learn, what, in the treatment of our whole subject it is extremely important to remember, that, in the ”boy,” a ”brazen impudence developes itself, the crowning gift,” &c. ”To his astonishment,” though, ”he finds that even here he is in a conditional world, and if he will employ his capability of eating (or enjoying) must first, in some measure, work and suffer. Contention enough hereupon; but now dimly arises, or reproduces itself, the question. Whether there were not a _shorter_ road--that of stealing!”
But how he was entered into the convent, and under the convent apothecary proceeded to learn certain arts and mysteries of the retorts and alembics (which lucky knowledge, after that, came to use), while he was learning his other trade of monkery and ma.s.s-chanting, we will omit.
It is enough to know, that he would not answer for the convent, and was again afloat on the wide sea of existence. That he floated is certain; for ”he has a fair cousin living in the house with him, and she again has a lover. Beppo stations himself as go-between; delivers letters; fails not to drop hints that a lady to be won or kept must be generously treated; that such and such a pair of ear-rings, watch, or sum of money, would work wonders: which valuables, adds the wooden Roman biographer, he then appropriated furtively.” Slowly but certainly he makes his way: ”tries his hand at forging” theatre tickets--a will even, ”for the benefit of a certain religious house;” and, further on, can tell fortunes, and show visions in a small way--all these inspirations are vouchsafed him, or, rather, these things he is permitted to do, and others not to be mentioned here.
It is well to note, that in all times, and among all peoples, there is a deep and profound conviction that there _is_ not only a ”short and certain” way of getting to heaven, and to know the eternal truths, but also that these earthly treasures do exist, in untold quant.i.ty, in the elements; and if one could only discover the secret by which the gases could be condensed into solid gold, or the gnomes be persuaded or compelled to give them up, ready solidified to hand, it would at least save time and be satisfactory. It is only curious, as a matter of speculation, to know what we shall eat when the lucky age arrives, and spirits will do our bidding in this matter of gold and diamonds. The ”boy,” as he grew, discovered this world-wide capacity; and who should have this power of setting the ”spirits” to work but he?
”Walking one day in the fields with a certain ninny of a goldsmith, named Marano, Beppo begins in his oily voluble way to hint that treasures often lay hid; that a certain treasure lay hid there (as he knew by some p.r.i.c.king of his thumbs, divining rod, or other talismanic monition), which treasure might, by the aid of science, courage, secrecy, and a small judicious advance of money, be fortunately lifted.
The gudgeon takes--advances, by degrees, to the length of 'sixty gold ounces'--sees magic circles drawn in the wane or the full of the moon, blue (phosphorous) flames arise--split twigs auspiciously quiver--and at length demands, peremptorily, that the treasure be dug!”
Alas! why is it that the ”spirits” so often fail us at our sorest need?
Do _they_ deceive us; and, if not, who does? The treasure vanishes, or does not appear, ”the conditions are imperfect,” and the ”ninny of a goldsmith” being roughly handled by these spiritual visitants, threatens to stiletto the adept; who, overcome with the ingrat.i.tude of the world, concludes to quit;--at least, in the words of his Inquisition biographer, ”he fled from Palermo, and overran the whole earth.”
We may see how he has grown--how, as in ordinary mortals, he advances step by step--even he, the favorite son of the higher intelligences, learns as he goes. How is it, then, that we can have no full-grown inspiration; that we know of no perfection--that we only go on towards it? Can it be that prophets and priests really do _learn_, and that even now, men may grow into the future? Might not a more thorough and scientific seminary for this purpose be established than any we now have--theologic, thaumaturgic, theosophic, or other variety? It is a question easier asked than answered.
”The Beppic Hegira brings us down in European history to somewhere about the period of the peace of Paris”--(A.D. ----), supervening upon which is a portentous time--”the mult.i.tudinous variety of quacks that, along with Beppo, overran all Europe during that same period--the latter half of the last century. It was the very age of impostors, cut-purses, swindlers, double gaugers, enthusiasts, ambiguous persons, quacks simple, quacks compound, crack-brained or with deceit prepense, quacks and quackeries of all colors and kinds. How many mesmerists (so speaks this strange author), magicians, cabalists, Swedenborgians, illuminati, crucified nuns, and devils of Loudun! To which the Inquisition biographer adds vampyres, sylphs, rosicrucians, free-masons, and an _et cetera_. Consider your Schropfers, Cagliostros, Casanovas, Saint Germains, Dr. Grahams, the Chevalier d'Eon, Psalmanazar, Abbe Paris, and the Ghost of c.o.c.k-lane!--as if Bedlam had broken loose!”
The great, the inexplicable, the mysterious Beppo, being now fairly afloat, let us try to comprehend how he has begun to touch upon the edge of those trade winds, which shall drive him along toward the golden Indies, Ophir, and the land of promise, for which the men of this world do so hunger and thirst.
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