PART II
——
Here beginneth Chapter 2 of the Second Part of the Book which is
called "The Tablets of Æth,'' wherein is transcribed the Second
Trinity of the Planetary Rulers.
——
"Thou art called forth to this fair sacrifice
For a draught of milk; with the Maruts
Come hither, O Agni!
They who know the great sky, the Visve
Devas without guile; with those Maruts
Come hither, O Agni!
They who are brilliant, of awful shape,
Powerful, and devourers of foes; with the
Maruts come hither, O Agni!
They who in heaven are enthroned as gods,
In the light of the firmament; with the Maruts
Come hither, O Agni!''
——
"Let us meditate on the adorable light of the Divine Rulers.
May it guide our intellects.''
TABLET THE FOURTH
The Moon
REFLECTION
TABLET THE FOURTH
The web of life has caught the monad of the soul and thus incarnated
the universe, for each soul incarnates its universe at birth,
each one's world being different, and peculiar unto himself. At the
first breath, the young child polarizes his relations to stars and earth,
and it is the affinity and repulsion which make his life experience.
And the stars weave the web in their lines of sextile, square and
trine, of opposition and conjunction, thus enveloping the monad in
the Circle of Necessity.
Outside the star of the spirit, the Ego, shines clear, free from
the entanglements of the web and unaffected by the magnetic glamour
of the Moon. And lo! the coffin is filled with stones, a symbol of
death and the Moon, which is but a casket of stones. Therefore, little
monad, caught in the tangle of the web of life and the glamour of
earthly things, take heart, for, beyond all, is the star of your being.
Call down the law of that star into yourself, and the web is broken
and waves its tattered shreds in the breeze. The moonlight, the reflected
light, pales as the Star-Sun of your being rises, and the moonlight
of Earth gives place to the Sun-spheres of Ra.
O child of Adam! The beginning of sorrow is the dawn of spiritual life.
The
wise man rules the stars; the fools of Earth obey.
TABLET THE FIFTH
Mars
REFLECTION
TABLET THE FIFTH
Can greater irony be shown than in this astral symbol. Mars
is externally represented as a fierce warrior, awful to behold; the
reality, a little child, painting toy pictures on the helmet, too big for
his curly head. The lesson in this is indeed, that the pen is mightier
than the sword; that the big and blustering helmet will become a
plaything for the child. Soon, that the sword of bloodshed, rape,
and ruin, will be broken and war relegated to the past, looked at,
but, as pictures, painted with hideous reality by the childhood of
the race.
The symbol also reveals the great executive forces of humanity,
the child. The soul can paint, execute its ideas, its hopes and its fears
in any color—the lurid red of blood, the black of ignorance and crime,
or in the living light of beauty. All the same, it is the childhood of
man painting its ideals in the material world.
O child of Adam, curb the anger of Mars, that thy painting may set the
dove
at liberty. Let the magic of thy soul transform the savage of the desert into
the
angel of mercy.
TABLET THE SIXTH
Jupiter
REFLECTION
TABLET THE SIXTH
Again we are impressed with the contrast of internal and external
things. Jupiter, the symbol of authority, conservatism, church, and
state, and the stability of human institutions, and the things that are,
as the things that are the best. But oh, how widely different the
internal, the real Jupiter, that governing power of the spirit that
hurls defiance at unjust authority, the cruelty and tyranny of the
world. The soul sees the light beyond, and, emerging from the dark
chasm of matter, knows the battle that must be fought against wrong.
It is the awful—yea, terrible—symbol of defiance to gods and men
who oppose its onward, upward march to the shining goal of light.
Make way, then! Make way! For Earth has given birth to her giant
son—the Spirit. For, listen closely, my friend, to the axiom of Immortality.
What is soul? Not the spirit, mind you; not the deathless
Ego, of which you at present, perchance, know absolutely nothing.
Soul is mere memory; a scavenger in earthly states; and a gleaner, a
hired help, in the fields of heaven; and to become immortal, there
must be something more than soul as the result. It must take such a
vital interest in its Lord's work that, finally it becomes too valuable
to lose, and must be taken into partnership, so to say. The Ego—Lord—
has found a valued servant, a trusted steward, after much seeking,
and at once adopts it as its very own. And so the soul becomes heir
to the heavenly estate and receives the immortal, vital principle of
spiritual union, and awakes from the son of Earth a God-like being,
free from the shackles of Time—a dweller in eternity. The soul must
awake and realize the Deific atom around which it revolves before
it is too late. Unless this is so, the seed of immortal life, sown in
matter by the Ego, has not germinated, and it returns unfruitful and
dies—it is an abortion. Many, many seeds never germinate. Many
good orthodox, but animal-like lives, live, move, and die,—yes, die in
very truth. Would to God I could make all mankind realize this
awful, inconceivable privilege of life, that, Jupiter-like, they would
turn and face the light.
O child of Adam! "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a
needle
than for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of God.''
[Blank Leaf]