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be met with of the Rosicrucian or Ma mystic and Theosophist, entitled sonic orders. And I challenge any an- Nuometria and written about the tiquarian to contradict me. Of course year 1604. The author was born at I do not speak of individual and in- Urach, a little town of Wirtemburg; sulated Adepts, Cabbalists, Theoso- in 1565 he received the degree of phists, &c. who doubtless existed Master of Arts at Tübingen ; and much earlier. Nay, I do not deny that soon after settled at Marbach, not in elder writings mention is made far from Louisburg, in the capacity of the rose and the cross as symbols of teacher. His labours in Alcheof Alchemy and Cabbalism. Indeed my brought him into great embarit is notorious that in the sixteenth rassment; and his heretical novelties century Martin Luther used both sym- into all kinds of trouble. His Naobols on his seal ; and many protes- metria,t which is a tissue of dreams tant divines have imitated him in and allegories relating to the cardinal this.-Semler, it is true, has brought events of the world and to the mystogether a great body of data from teries of scripture, as well as of which he deduces the conclusion that external nature from its creation to the Rosicrucians were of very high its impending destruction, contains antiquity.* But all of them prove a great deal of mysticism and pronothing more than what I willingly phecy about the rose and the cross. concede : Alchemists, Cabbalists, and But the whole has a religious meandealers in the Black Art there were ing; and the fundus of his ideas and unquestionably before the seven- his imagery is manifestly the Apocateenth century: but not Rosicrucians lypse of St. John. Nor is there any and Free-masons connected into a se- passage or phrase in his work upon cret society and distinguished by those which an argument can be built for characteristics which I have assigned connecting him with the Rosicruin the first chapter.

cians which would not equally apOne fact has been alleged from ply to Philo the Alexandrian, to Ecclesiastical History as pointing to John Picus of Mirandula, to Reuchthe order of the Rosicrucians. In lin, to George of Venice, to Francis 1586 the Militia crucifera evangelica Patrick, and to all other Cabbalists, assembled at Lunenburg: the per- Theosophists, Magicians, and Alsons composing this body have been chemists. represented as Rosicrucians; but in Of the alleged connexion between fact they were nothing more than a the Templars and the Rosicrucians, or protestant sect heated by apocalytic more properly with the Free-masons, dreams; and the object of the as- —which connexion, if established, semblage appears to have been ex- would undoubtedly assign a much clusively connected with religion. earlier date to the origin of both orOur chief knowledge of it is derived ders,—I shall have occasion to speak from the work of Simon Studion, a in another part of my inquiry.

X. Y. Z.

* See Solomon Semler's Impartial Collections for the history of the Rosicrucians. In Four Parts, 8vo. Leipzig: 1786-8.

+ The full title of this unprinted and curious book is this : “NAOMETRIA, seu nuda et prima libri, intus et foris scripti, per clavem Davidis et calamum (virgæ similem) apertio; in quo non tantum ad cognoscenda tam S. Scripturæ totius, quam naturæ quoque universæ, mysteria brevis fit introductio—verum etiam Prognosticus (stellæ illius matutinæ, anno Domini 1572, conspectæ ductu) demonstratur Adventus ille Christi ante diem novissimum secundus per quem homine peccati (Papâ) cum filio suo perditionis (Mahometo) divinitus devastato, ipse ecclesiam suam et principatus mundi restaurabit, ut in iis posthac sit cum ovili pastor unus. In cruciferæ militiæ Evangelicæ gratiam. Authore Simone Studione inter Scorpiones. Anno 1604.' An anonymous writer on the Rosicruci

in the Wirtemberg Magazine (No. 3, p. 523) and the learned Von Murr in his treatise upon the true origin of the Rosicrucians and Freemasons, printed at Sulzbach in the year 1803, have confounded the word Naometria (Naopnempia) Temple-measuring, with Neometria (N couetpea) New art of measuring, as though Studion had written a new geometry. By the Temple, inner and outer, Studion means the Holy Scriptures and Nature-the liber intus et foris scriptus, of which St. John says in the Revelations—“ I saw on the right of him who sat upon the throne a book written within and without, and guarded with seven seals," &c.


I do not wish to mention how the following pages came into my possession. I scarcely know to whose history they relate ; but have at times imagined to that of an Earl of A-1, whose story bore some resemblance to the circumstances here mentioned. These papers, few as they are, seem evidently imperfect, and were, I should think, hastily and carelessly written. I have inquired in vain after those which are wanting, for the conclusion is certainly abrupt and unsatisfactory.


August the 1st, A. D. 16**. guilt might cool the boiling blood, :, I do heartily thank my God, that I and stop the mad fury, of some inhave at last determined to write down dividual whose disposition may rein detail many circumstances connect

semble mine. ed with the event which has made my life on earth a state of shame and My youth was passed in the misery. I am a less wretched crea- thoughtless and extravagant gaiety of ture than I have been ; but there the French court. My temper was alno rest for my wounded spirit, till it ways violent; and I returned home one shall please the blessed God to take morning, long after midnight, frantic me from this world. I dare to hope with rage at some imaginary insult that death will take with my poor which i had received. My servant mortal body, the load of guilt and endeavoured to speak to me as I enanguish, which now lieth heavy on tered the house, but I repulsed him my spirit. I found not this hope in violently, and rushed up to my room. myself; I knew not of it, till I read of I locked the door, and sat down inone who washeth with his blood the stantly to write a challenge. My guilty conscience; who with his hand trembled so much that it would searching spirit visits the loathsome not hold the pen : I started up and chambers of the heart; and although paced the room: the pen was again his light showeth there sins long for- in my hand, when I heard a low gotten, or all unobserved till then, voice speaking earnestly at the door each one bearing a visible form and entreating to be admitted. The substance; yet there is a peace that voice was that of my father's old and the world knoweth not, which cometh favourite servant. I opened the door often where that purest light hath to him. The old man looked upon shined long. Do I dream? or hath me with a very sorrowful counnot this light, this sacred peace, come tenance, and I hastily demanded the into my sad heart? the light and reason of his appearance. He stared at peace are but one spirit, but the na- me with surprise, and spoke not: he ture of that spirit is such, that, till it walked to the table where I had sat hath purged from the sight its dull and down, and took from it a letter which mortal mists, the soul seeth nothing in my rage I had not noticed. It but its dazzling brightness. Then announced to me the dangerous illgradually doth the light take unto ness of my father ; it was written by itself a form, even that dove-like my mother, and entreatingly beform which descended visibly on the sought me instantly to return to head of the meekest and holiest son them- Before dawn I was far from of man.

Paris. My father's residence was in What I am about to write, I wish the north of England. I arrived to be seen ; I would make my story here only in time to follow the corpse a warning to others. I would wish of my beloved father to the grave. my crime to be known, my memory Immediately on my return from the to be execrated in this world, if by funeral, my mother sent to me, remeans of my example the remorse questing my attendance in her own which I feel might be spared to an- apartment. Traces of a deep-seated other; if the remembrance of my grief were fresh upon her fine coun

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tenance, but she received me withi About three years after I had succalm seriousness. Love for her living ceeded to the titles and possessions child had struggled with her sorrow of my forefathers, I became the hus for the dead ; and she had chosen band of the lady Jane Nthat hour to rouse me from the follies, I thought myself truly happy. Two from the sins of my past life. My years passed away, and every day mother was always a superior crea- endeared my sweet wife to my heart, ture. I felt, as I listened to her, the but I was not quite happy. We had real dignity of a Christian matron's no child ; I had but one wish; one character. She won me by the blessing seemed alone denied — the truth, the affection, the gentleness of birth of a son. My thoughts, in all her words. She spoke plainly of my their wanderings, reverted to one degrading conduct, but she did not hope the birth of a son—an heir to upbraid me. She set before me the the name, the rank, the estates of my new duties which I was called upon family. When I knelt before God, I to perform. She said, “I know you forgot to pray that he would teach me will not trifle with those duties. what to pray for; I did not intreat You are not your own, my son ; you that his wisdom would direct me how must not live to yourself; you pro- to use what his goodness gave. No, fess the name of Christian, you can I prayed as for my life, I prayed hold no higher profession. God hath without ceasing, but I chose the said to each of us · My son, give me blessing. I prayed for a son-my thine heart. Have you given your prayers were at last granted, a son heart and its desires to God? Can was born to us--a beautiful healthy you be that pitiful creature a half boy. I thought myself perfectly Christian? I have spoken thus, be- happy. My delight was more than cause I know that if you have clear ever to live in the pleasant retireideas of your first duties, and do ment of my own home, so that year strive to perform them, then will your after year passed away, and only setrelative duties be no longer lightly tled me down more entirely in the regarded. Oh my son, God knows habits of domestic life. My boy what I feel in speaking to you thus grew up to be a tall and healthy lad; in my heaviest hour of affliction, and his intellect was far beyond his years; I can only speak as a feeble and per- and I loved to make him my complexed woman. I know not how to panion, as much from the charming counsel you, but I do beseech you freshness of his thoughts, as from the to think for yourself, and to pray warmth of my attachment towards earnestly to God for his wisdom and the child. I learned to wonder at guidance." Before I left my mother's the satisfaction I had once felt in presence, she spoke to me also on my mere worldly society, as I studied master passion, anger, mad ungo- the character of my son. He was vernable rage. She told me that not without the faults which all chileven in the early years of my child- dren possess, which are rooted deep in hood, she had trembled at my anger,- human nature; but in all his faults, she confessed that she had dreaded to in his deceit, and what child is not hear while I was absent, that it had taught deceit by his own heart? there plunged me into some horrid crime. was a charming awkwardness, an She knew not how just her fears had absence of all worldly trick, which been; for had not my father's death appeared then very new to me. I recalled me to England, I should used all my efforts to prevent vice probably have been the murderer of from becoming habitual to him; I that thoughtless stripling who had strove to teach him the government unknowingly provoked me, and of himself, by referring not only every whom I was about to challenge to action, but every thought, to one high fight on the morning I left Versailles. and holy principle of thinking and

My mother did not speak to me in acting to God; and I strove to build vain. I determined to turn at once up consistent habits on the foundafrom my former ways, to regulate my tion of holy principle. I was so conduct by the high and holy prin- anxious about my son that I did not ciples of the religion I professed, and dare to treat his faults with a foolish to reside on my own estate in habits indulgence. I taught him to know of manly and domestic simplicity. that I could punish, and that I would be obeyed ; yet he lived with me, I hold in memory his clear sparkling think, in all confidence of speech and eyes glancing with intelligence ; his action, and seemed never so happy as fair brow contracted with that slight when he sat at my feet, and asked me, and peculiar frown, which gives asin the eagerness of his happy fancies, surance that the mind shares in the more questions than I could, in truth, smile of the lips. Often do I see beanswer.-I cannot go on speaking fore me the pure glow flooding over thus of those joyous times which are his cheek, the waves of bright hair gone for ever— I will turn to a darker floating away from his shoulders, as subject—to myself.—While I gaveup he galloped full in the face of the fine my time, my thoughts, my soul's free wind. best energies to my child, I neglected My boy loved his Araby courser, myself, the improvement of my own as all noble-spirited boys love a faheart and its dispositions. This may vourite horse. He loved to dress, seem strange and improbable to and to feed, and to caress the beausome. It may be imagined that the tiful creature; and Selim knew his habits of strict virtue which I taught small gentle hand, and would arch to my son would, in the teaching, his sleek and shining neck when the have been learnt by myself; and that, boy drew nigh, and turn his dark in the search after sound wisdom for lustrous eye with a look like that of

a him, I must have turned up as it pleased recognition on him, when were many treasures needed by my- his master spoke. self. It would be so in most in- My child was about eleven years stances perchance; it was not so in old at the time I must now speak of. mine. The glory of God had not been He usually passed many hours of my first wish when I prayed for a the morning in the library with me. son. I had imposed upon myself It was on the 17th of June, a lovely in thinking that I acted in the educa- spring morning, Maurice had been tion of my child upon that sacred prin- very restless and inattentive to his ciple. It was honour among men books. The sunbeams dazzled his that I looked for. I had sought to eyes, and the fresh wind fluttered make my son every thing that was among the pages before him. The excellent, but I had not sought to boy removed his books, and sat down make myself fit for the work I under- at a table far from the open window. took. My own natural faults had been I turned round an hour after from a Buffered by me to grow almost un- volume which had abstracted all my checked, while I had been watchful thoughts. The weather was very hot, over the heart of my child. Above and the poor child had fallen fast all, the natural infirmity of my cha- asleep. He started up at once racter- anger, violent outrageous when I spoke. I asked him if he could anger, was at times the master, the say his lesson ? He replied, “ Yes,” tyrant of my soul. Too frequently and brought the book instantly ; but had I corrected my child for the he scarcely knew a word, and he fault which he inherited from me; seemed careless, and even indifferent. but how had I done so ? when pas- I blamed him, and he replied petusionately angry myself, I had punish- lantly. I had given back the book to ed my boy for want of temper. Could him, when a servant entered, and it be expected that Maurice would told me that a person was waiting profit by my instructions, when my my presence below. I desired the example too often belied my words? boy, somewhat with an angry tone, But I will pass on at once to my not to stir from the room till I reguilt.

turned, and then to let me hear him The Countess, my mother, had say bis lesson perfectly. He promised given to Maurice a beautiful Arabian to obey me.—There is a small closet horse. I loved to encourage the boy opening from the library; the window in all manly exercises. While a mere of this closet overlooks the stable. child he rode with a grace which I Probably the dear child obeyed me in have seldom seen surpassed by the learning perfectly his lesson ; but I best horsemen. How nobly would was detained long ; and he went to he bear himself, as side by side on the closet in which I had allowed our fleet horses, we flew over the him to keep the books belonging to open country! Often, often do I be- himself. A bow and arrows which I

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had lately given him were there; and his eyes sparkling with passion. perhaps the boy could not resist look- Again he would have spoken, but I ing on them; they were lying on the would not hear. “ Tell me, sir,” I floor when I entered afterwards. cried; “. Answer me one question; From that closet Maurice heard the are you right or wrong ? ” « Right, sound of a whip-he heard quick the boy replied proudly. He argued and brutal strokes falling heavily with me—my fury burst out.-Alas, Springing up, he ran to the window; I knew not what I did ! but i beneath he saw one of the grooms snatched the whip from his hand-I beating, with savage cruelty, his raised the heavy handle, -I meant beautiful and favourite little courser. not to strike where I did. The blow The animal seemed almost maddened fell with horrid force on his fair head. with the blows; and the child called There was iron on the handle, and out loudly to bid the man desist. my child, my only son, dropt lifeless At first the groom scarcely heeded at my feet. Ere he fell, I was him, and then smiling coldly at the deadly cold, and the murderous weaindignant boy, told him that the pon had dropt away from my hand. beating was necessary, and that so Stiffened with horror, I stood over young a gentleman could not under- him speechless, and rooted awhile stand how a horse should be ma- to the spot. At last the yells of my naged. In vain did my child com- despair brought others to me—the mand the brutal fellow to stop. The wretched groom was the first who man pretended not to hear him, came.--I saw no more, but fell in a and led the spirited creature farther fit beside my lifeless child. away from beneath the window. When I woke up to a sense of Instantly the boy rushed from the what passed around me, I saw the room, and in a few moments was in sweet countenance of my wife bent the yard below. I entered the libra- over me with an expression of most ry shortly after my son had left it. anxious tenderness. She was wiping The person who had detained me away the tears from her eyes, and a brought news which had much dis- faint smile broke into her face as she concerted, nay displeased me. I perceived my returning sense. was in a very ill humour when I re- I caught hold of her arm with a turned to the room where I had left strong grasp, and lifted up my head; Maurice; I looked vainly for him, but my eyes looked for the body of and was very angry to perceive that my child-it was not there. “Where my request had been disobeyed; the is it?” I cried; “ Where is the body closet door was open; I sought him of my murdered boy? When I there. While I wondered at his ab- spoke the word “murdered," my sence, I heard his voice loud in an- wife shrieked-I was rushing outger. For some moments I gazed she stopped me, and said, “ He is not from the window in silence. Be- dead-he is alive.” My heart melted neath stood the boy, holding with within me, and tears rained from my one hand the reins of his courser, eyes. My wife led me to the chamber who trembled all over, his fine coat where they had laid my child. He was and slender legs reeking and stream- alive, if such a state could be called ing with sweat: in his other hand life. Still his eyelids were closed ; there was a horse-whip, with which still his cheeks, even his lips, were of the enraged boy was lashing the bru- a ghastly whiteness; still his limbs tal groom. In a voice of loud anger, were cold and motionless. They had I called out. The child looked up; undressed him, and my mother sate and the man who had before stood in silent grief beside his bed. When with his arms folded, and a smile of I came near, she uncovered his fair calm insolence on his face, now chest, and placed my hand over his spoke with pretended mildness, more heart; I felt a thick and languid provoking to the child, but which beating there, but the pulse of his then convinced me that Maurice was wrists and temples was scarcely in fault. He spoke, but I silenced perceptible. My mother spoke to him, and commanded him to come ** We have examined the poor up to me instantly. He cameinstant- child,” she said, “but we find no ly, and stood before me yet panting wound, no bruise, no marks of viowith emotion, his face all flushed, lence. Whence is this dreadful stu


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