Part 5 (1/2)
He married a beautiful Seraphina, afterward countess, graceful and lady-like, once the daughter of a girdle-maker, and named Lorenza Feliciani. Every one, simple or sedate, knows that it is best to hunt in couples. What one has not the other may have. So Seraphina had beauty, lightness, buoyancy, and could float up her count when the demons and harpies of a certain troublesome devil, called law or justice, seemed bent upon his swift destruction. Could she not, too, ”enlist the sympathies of admiring audiences”--by her sweet smiles and ”artless ways,” gain belief, and ”a wish to believe?” More than that, could she not turn the heads of young and old? ”n.o.ble” perhaps, perhaps ”ign.o.ble”--”moneyed do-nothings” (so says this writer), whereof in this vexed earth there are many, ever lounging about such (?) places--scan and comment on the foreign coat-of-arms--ogle the fair foreign woman, who timidly recoils from their gaze, timidly responds to their reverences, as in halls and pa.s.sages they obsequiously throw themselves in her way. Ere long, one moneyed do-nothing (from amid his tags, ta.s.sels, sword-belts, fop-tackle, frizzled hair, without brains beneath it) is heard speaking to another--”Seen the countess?--divine creature that!” Indeed, one cannot but wonder that any should question the unity of the race, at least, of those known as ”civilized.” In a small way, or in a large way, how this thing ever goes on--on church steps, on Broadways, in Metropolitan Halls, Congresses, the Palais-Royal, at home and abroad! And men do yet call _this_ ”reverence for the s.e.x,” and holy sentiment; and indulge in hallelujahs to that h.o.a.ry myth, ”a gentleman of the old school;” while women--G.o.d help us--women loving it, hate those who, hating it, hate hollowness and h.e.l.l. With slight imagination, then, one may see how important an element this ”divine creature” must have become in any conjuration or mystic ”renovation of the universe,”
which the high mystagogue might be impressed to set on foot. Enough, that _she_ helped and learned the arts of prophecy and perfection faster than her master! But we read--alas! alas!--”As his seraphic countess gives signs of withering, and one luxuriant branch of industry will die and drop off, others must be pushed into budding.” He, the indefatigable count, is not idle. ”Faded dames of quality (over all Europe, all creation) have many wants: the count has not studied in the convent laboratory, or pilgrimed to the Count St. Germain, in Westphalia, to no purpose. With loftiest condescension he stoops to impart somewhat of his supernatural secrets--for a _consideration_. Rowland's Kalydor is valuable; but what to the beautifying water of Count Alessandro! He that will undertake to smooth wrinkles, and make withered, green parchment into a fair carnation skin, is he not one whom faded dames of quality will delight to honor? Or, again, let the beautifying-water succeed or not, have not such dames (if calumny may in aught be believed) another want? This want, too, the indefatigable Cagliostro will supply--for a consideration. For faded gentlemen of quality the count likewise has help. Not a charming countess alone, but a ”wine of Egypt” (Cantharides not being unknown to him), sold in drops, more precious than nectar; which, what faded gentlemen of quality will not purchase with any thing short of life. Consider, too, what may be done with potions, washes, charms, love-philters, among a cla.s.s of mortals idle from their mother's womb,” &c., &c.
It is well to know, once for all, that the count, chief-priest of his order--which yet thrives, and if not great, deserves to be called for its number, Legion--made money out of this his enterprising trade; that he was enabled to pay his way; to ride post with the ever potent ”voucher of respectability, a coach-and-four,” with out-riders and beef-eaters, and couriers and lackeys, and the other paraphernalia which the greedy tooth of man desires--which helps one forward so far toward happiness, provided always that ”there _is_ no heaven above and no h.e.l.l beneath,” of which let each first make sure; and more than all, let such as wish to travel this road, take great courage from the contemplation of this one model.
We must hasten to the year 1776, a year rather noted in our annals, and in that of England, perhaps, independently of this the ”first visit” of the famed Count Cagliostro to its sh.o.r.es, which happened then. Should it have so chanced that he had lived now, would he have stopped there does the reader think? Having an insight into _their_ national character, and finding ”great greed and need,” and but small heed, what might he not have done on this transatlantic sh.o.r.e, whose free people can so n.o.bly cherish even its Barnum, its----, its----! But let names go. We make the most of what we have, and if not equal to the greatest, the fault rests not on our shoulders. We are not responsible for the past, if for the present or future.
'Twas in England that the master developed most bravely the art of prophecy; perhaps finding there a demand for his supply--such, according to some, being the only law of G.o.d or man. It is enough to know that he does a trade in foretelling the lucky lottery numbers by means of his ”occult science,” whereby at least he put money in _his_ purse, and satisfied good-natured men that as there were gulls, and necessarily a guller, he above all others deserved praise and not blame; the whole thing, this life, being really a juggle, and the smartest fellow of course the best juggler. As man goes on he developes, so many think--so did Cagliostro, and in his growth he reaches to masonry--Egyptian masonry--and in ”sworn secrecy” finds a new Talisman, for which men will pay five guineas each. He resolves to ”free it from all vile ingredients, and make it a new Evangile.” ”No religion is excluded from the Egyptian society”--for is it not certain that religion _pays_?
Charity too, pays, as we shall see by-and-by. No religion is tabooed--none--all who admit the existence of a G.o.d, and the immortality of the soul, may, for the small sum of five guineas, be certain to gain ”perfection by means of a physical and moral regeneration.” He promises them by the former or physical to find the _prime matter_ or philosopher's stone, and the _acacia_ which consolidates in man the forces of the most vigorous youth, and renders him immortal; and by the latter or moral, to procure them a Pentagon which shall restore man to his primitive state of innocence, lost by his original sin. It must be understood that this masonry was founded by Enoch and Elias, had been corrupted by the Egyptian priests, but was now restored to its pristine vigor by its last and greatest Grand Cophta, and includes not only men but women, of whom the Countess Seraphina is Cophtess.
We cannot do better than to gain some insight into the forms and symbolic practices of these wors.h.i.+ppers; and especially will those who desire to practise this or any short and easy way to perfection or happiness, be glad to learn what has been done, and thus be encouraged to begin.
In the _Essai sur les Illumines_, printed in Paris in 1789, are the following details quoted by this before-mentioned known author.[1] These bear an air of truth and probability which will win for them easy admission. Many of them are not unlike what we have seen amongst us during the few past years.
”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 n.o.bleman 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 att.i.tude addressed their prayers to G.o.d 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 a.s.sisted him [why this is so proven he does not explain], Cagliostro took courage, and bade the child ask of G.o.d 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 a.s.sembly 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 c.r.a.pes; 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 p.r.o.nounced 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and faces fixed on the ground in deep silence. An hour pa.s.ses in this painful att.i.tude. 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 s.p.a.cious masonic halls--dark, or in the favorablest theatrical light-and-dark: Kircher's magic lantern, Belshazzar handwritings (of phosphorus), plaintive tones, gong-beatings, h.o.a.ry 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. .h.i.ther 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 wors.h.i.+pped; such gift of reverence is in the heart of man, and to such things does he again and again bow down!
To go on. Cheers, and the ravishment of thronging audiences can make him maudlin; render him louder in eloquence of theory; and ”philanthropy,”
”divine science,” ”depth of unknown worlds,” ”finer feelings of the heart”--and so shall draw tears from most a.s.ses of sensibility. ”The few reasoning mortals scattered here and there, that see through him, deafened in the universal hub-bub, shut their lips in sorrowful disdain, _confident in the grand remedy, Time_.” So says our author, and can we blame him? Will the reader allow the current of this prosperity to be checked for one moment by a certain Count M.? One of the chosen few at Warsaw, who having spent the night with the ”dear Master,” in conversing with spirits, had returned to the country to trans.m.u.te metals perhaps--perhaps to do other mighty works. Count M. seems to have been afflicted with doubts, to have supposed that by sleight-of-hand the ”sweet Master” had subst.i.tuted the crucible with melted ducats, for the other--carefully filled with red lead, ”smelted and set to cool,” ”and now found broken and hidden among these bushes”--the whole golden crucible standing in its place. ”Neither does the Plenagon or Elixir of Life, or whatever it was, prosper better--our sweet master enters into expostulation--swears by his great G.o.d, and his honor, that he will finish the work and make us _happy_.” In vain--”the shreds of the broken crucible lie there before your eyes”--and the usurper has its place.
That ”resemblance of a sleeping child, grown visible in the magic cooking of our Elixir, proves to be an inserted rosemary leaf. The Grand Cophta cannot be gone too soon.”
Already it has been said that ”Charity pays,” philanthropy, benevolence, all these--sometimes? if one sows his bread on the waters shall he not expect its return after many or after few days?--the sooner the better for your Cagliostros, your Barnums. Shout it daily to an envious world--”Am I not a charitable man? If I have done wrong myself (as who has not?) has not a great deal of good _grown out_ of my wickedness? I have therefore done my share, for which if the world has paid me in 'praise and pudding,' it is no more than it has done before, and will do again!” Take courage!
Cagliostro doctors--heals--the poor, for nothing!--even gives them alms--does a great deal of good--who but he? At Strasburg in the year 1783 (year of our peace with England), he ”appears in full bloom and radiance, the envy and admiration of the world. In large hired hospitals, he with open drug-box (containing 'Extract of Saturn'), and even with open purse, relieves the suffering poor; unfolds himself lamblike, angelic, to a believing few, of the rich cla.s.ses. Medical miracles have at all times been common, but what miracle is this of an occidental or oriental Serene-highness that 'regardless of expense,'