The Emerald Tablet

In truth, without deceit, certain, and most veritable.

 

That which is Below corresponds to that which is Above, and that which is Above corresponds to that which is Below, to accomplish the miracles of the One Thing.  And just as all things have come from this One Thing, through the meditation of One Mind, so do all created things originate from this One Thing, through Transformation.

 

Its father is the Sun; its mother the Moon.  The Wind carries it in its belly; its nurse is the Earth.  It is the origin of All, the consecration of the Universe; its inherent Strength is perfected, if it is turned into Earth.

 

Separate the Earth from Fire, the Subtle from the Gross, gently and with great Ingenuity.  It rises from Earth to Heaven and descends again to Earth, thereby combining within Itself the powers of both the Above and the Below.

 

Thus will you obtain the Glory of the Whole Universe.  All Obscurity will be clear to you.  This is the greatest Force of all powers, because it overcomes every Subtle thing and penetrates every Solid thing.

 

In this way was the Universe created. From this comes many wondrous Applications, because this is the Pattern.

 

Therefore am I called Thrice Greatest Hermes, having all three parts of the wisdom of the Whole Universe.  Herein have I completely explained the Operation of the Sun.

Learn the Night Sky!

 

If you know the constellations, and memorize the following rhyme you will have ever at hand for reference at night, a reliable time-piece, a compass, and a perpetual calendar.

The numbers above the star names indicate consecutively the months of the year in which these respective objects rise about the first instant in the eastern sky. In addition to first-magnitude stars the rhyme refers to the head of Capricornus, the Sea Goat, the Great Square of Pegasus, and Orion's Belt. All except Arcturus rise between 9 and 9.30 p.m. Arcturus rises at 10 p.m., February 1st.

 

	1
First	Regulus	gleams	on	the	view,
2	3	4
Arcturus,	Spica,	Vega,	blue,
5		6
Antares,	and	Altair,
	7		8		9
The	Goat's	head,	Square,	and	Fomalhaut,
10		11
Aldebaran,	the	Belt,	a-glow,
	12
Then	Sirius	most	fair.

 

 

Eight months of the year are identified by the position of the Dipper at 9 p.m. In April and May it is north of the zenith. During July and August it is west of north. In October and November it lies close to the northern horizon and in January and February it is east of north with the pointers highest

A Masonic Allegory Part II - The Resurrection of the Sun

In silence with averted head

by night the "evil three" have fled.

And cold and stiff the body lies

Beneath the gloomy winter skies.

Yet had you been a watcher there.

That dismal night beside the dead.

Had you that night been kneeling there,

Beside the dead in tears and prayer.

You might have seen, amid the air,

A flickering, dim, auroral light,

Which hovered on the midnight air,

And, seeing in the gloomy sky

This mystic strange, celestial light

Contending with the powers of night.

You might have taken hope thereby.

There was, alas! no watcher there

To mark this radiance in the air.

To gaze with earnest, tearful eye

Upon this radiance in the sky.

There was no watcher there, alas!

To ask in anxious whispers low,

"Will not this light still brighter grow,

Or will it from the heavens pass

And leave me plunged in deeper gloom

Beside this cold and lonely tomb?"

Meanwhile the light increased--although

Beside the grave no mourner stood

Amid the lonesome solitude--

And as with tints of blue and gold,

And flashes of prismatic flame,

It lighted up the midnight cold,

Along the plain in beauty came

A shining and majestic form,

And as it came the winter's storm

As if abashed, its fury checked.

No more above and round the path,

Beneath the wind's tempestuous wrath,

The snowy billows heave and toss;

A sacred calm as he draws nigh

Pervades at once the earth and sky.

His robe was blue, its borders decked

With evergreen and scarlet moss;

His hands upon each other rest,

Due north and south, due east and west;

The open palms together pressed

As if engaged in silent prayer.

He thus had formed with pious care

The holy symbol of the cross.

A lamb doth close beside him go,

Whose whiter fleece rebukes the snow:

These things sufficiently proclaim

His mystic office and his name.

Beside the grave he comes and stands,

Still praying there with folded hands;

And, while he prays, see drawing near

Another shinning form appear,

His right hand on his bosom pressed,

As if by bitter grief distressed,

The other pointing to the skies,

And, as he weeps, each radiant tear,

That from his sad and earnest eyes

Falls on the earth, is transformed there

To violets blue and blossoms fair,

That sweetly perfume all the air.

A third one now appears in sight,

Arrayed in royal robes of light,

A "lordly lion" walks in pride.

More glorious far, and at his side

And he who came in glory last

Between the others gently passed.

And, looking down upon the dead,

With level, open palms outspread,

A holy benediction said.

This done, the first one, by command,

The dead god taketh by the hand:

At once through all the body flies

The same warm flush that marks the skies.

The shrunken features, cold and white,

A moment shine with life and light.

A moment only--'tis in vain:

Unconquered Death resumes his reign.

So doth a solitary wave

Leap up amid the lonely night,

And catch a gleam of life and light,

And then sink helpless in its grave.

To raise the god the first thus failed--

The powers of darkness yet prevailed;

So to the second he gives place,

Who, like the first one, by command,

The sun-god taketh by the hand

And, looking downward in his face

With pleading voice and earnest eyes,

On Phoebus calls and bids him rise.

Though at his touch the blood unbound.

With rapid current red and warm

Runs swiftly through the prostrate form,

Yet silent on the frozen ground

The god lies in a trance profound,

Devoid of motion, deaf to sound.

Alas! alas! what doth remain?

Shall death and darkness ever reign,

And night eternal hide the day?

Then said the third one, "Let us pray."

And full of faith and strong intent,

His prayer to IH. VAH. upward went.

"Amen" was said--"so mote it be!"

And then the last one of the three

Arose and stretching forth his hand,

Calls on the dead, and gives command

In IH. VAH.'s name to rise and stand.

Then up rose Phoebus in his pride,

With the "lordly lion" by his side,

And earth and sky with his glory shone

As again he sat on his golden throne.

For the voice of God is nature's law,

And strong was the grip of the lion's paw.

A Masonic Allegory Part I The Death of the Sun

 

When down the zodiacal arch

The summer sun resumes his march,

Descending from the summit high

With eager step he hastens by

The "lordly lion" of July

And clasps the virgin in his arms.

Through all the golden August days

The sun the ardent lover plays,

A captive to her dazzling charms.

But when the harvest time is o'er,

When they gathered grapes perfume the air

And ruddy wine begins to pour,

The god resumes his way once more;

And, weeping in her wild despair,

He leaves the royal virgin there.

What cares he now for Virgo's woes,

As down the starry path he goes

With scornful step, until, at last,

The equinoctial gate is passed?

Two misty columns black with storms,

While overhead there hangs between

A lurid thunder cloud, which forms

The frowning archway of the gate--

The gloomy equinoctial gate,

An evil place for travelers late,

Where envious Libra lurks unseen;

And near the portal lies in wait

September, filled with deadly hate.

With stately step the god draws nigh,

Yet such is his majestic mien,

That whether he shall strike or fly,

The trembling ruffian hardly knows,

As Phoebus through the gateway goes.

But, as the shining form came near,

The wretch's hate subdued his fear,

And, nerving up his arm at length,

He aimed a blow with all his strength

Full at the god as he went by.

In anger Phoebus turned his head--

Away the trembling coward fled.

The god, though smarting with the blow,

Disdains to follow up his foe:

And down the zodiacal path

Pursues his gloomy way in wrath.

Still blacker turn the autumn skies,

and red Antares, evil star,

Points out the place, more fatal far,

Where fell October ambushed lies.

The Sun, as if he scorned his foes,

In pride and glory onward goes.

Not he from deadly Scorpio flies,

Nor pauses he, nor backward turns,

Though redder yet Antares burns,

And darker yet his pathway grows.

Meanwhile October, from his lair,

On Phoebus rushes unaware,

His murderous purpose now confessed,

And smites the sun-god in the breast,

A ghastly wound the villain makes--

With horrid joy his weapon shakes;

And, as he sees the god depart,

His hand upon his bosom pressed,

Believes the blow has reached the heart.

Along his way the sun-god goes,

Unmindful where the path may lead,

While from his breast the life-blood flows.

The clouds around him gather now,

The crown of light fades from his brow.

And soon, advancing 'mid the night,

The Archer on his pallid steed,

With bended bow, appears in sight.

November, bolder than the rest,

Hides not behind the gloomy west:

But, striding right across the path,

Defies the god and scorns his wrath;

And, raising high his frowning crest,

These haughty words to him addressed:

"September and October, both,

You have escaped and still survive;

But I have sworn a deadly oath,

By me you cannot pass alive.

That which I promise I perform.

For I am he who, 'mid the storm,

Rides on the pallid horse of death."

While even thus the spectre spoke,

He drew his arrow to the head--

The god received the fatal stroke,

And at the Archer's feet feel dead.

Soon as the sun's expiring breath

Had vanished in the ether dim,

December came and looked on him;

And looking, not a word he saith,

But o'er the dead doth gently throw

A spangled winding sheet of snow.

And when the winding sheet was placed,

Comes evil Janus, double-faced,

A monster like those seen in sleep.

An old "seafaring man" is he,

As many others understand,

Who carries water from the deep

And pours it out upon the land.

Now February next appears,

With frozen locks and icy tears,

A specter cruel, cold, and dumb,

From polar regions newly come.

These three by turns the body bear

At night along the west, to where

A flickering gleam above the snows

A dim electric radiance throws,

A nebular magnetic light,

Which, flashing upward through the night,

Reveals the vernal equinox,

And him whose potent spell unlocks

The gates of spring.

An evergreen

Close by this spot is blooming seen.

'Tis there they halt amid the snow--

Unlawful 'tis to go farther go--

And, having left their burden there,

They vanish in the midnight air.

Yet on this very night next year

Will this same evil three appear,

And bring along amid the gloom

Another body for the tomb

But still the evergreen shall wave

Above the dark and dismal grave,

For ever there a token sure

That, long as Nature shall endure,

Despite of all the wicked powers

That rule the wintry midnight hours,

The sun shall from the grave arise,

And tread again the summer skies.