Let Them Be for Signs

Observational history

Galileo Galilei was the first astronomer to view the Pleiades through a telescope. He thereby discovered that the cluster contains many stars too dim to be seen with the naked eye. He published his observations, including a sketch of the Pleiades showing 36 stars, in his treatise Sidereus Nuncius in March 1610.

The Pleiades have long been known to be a physically related group of stars rather than any chance alignment. 

John Michell calculated in 1767 that the probability of a chance alignment of so many bright stars was only 1 in 500,000, and so surmised that the Pleiades and many other clusters of stars must be physically related.

When studies were first made of the stars’ proper motions, it was found that they are all moving in the same direction across the sky, at the same rate, further demonstrating that they were related.

Charles Messier measured the position of the cluster and included it as M45 in his catalogue of comet-like objects, published in 1771. Along with the Orion Nebula and the Praesepe cluster, Messier’s inclusion of the Pleiades has been noted as curious, as most of Messier’s objects were much fainter and more easily confused with comets — something that seems scarcely possible for the Pleiades. One possibility is that Messier simply wanted to have a larger catalogue than his scientific rival Lacaille, whose 1755 catalogue contained 42 objects, and so he added some bright, well-known objects to boost his list.

Edme-Sébastien Jeaurat then drew in 1782 a map of 64 stars of the Pleiades from his observations in 1779, which he published in 1786.

OF THE COMING OF THE ELVES AND THE CAPTIVITY OF MELKOR 

Through long ages the Valar dwelt in bliss in the light of the Trees beyond the Mountains of Aman, but all Middle-earth lay in a twilight under the stars. While the Lamps had shone, growth began there which now was checked, because all was again dark. But already the oldest living things had arisen: in the seas the great weeds, and on earth the shadow of great trees; and in the valleys of the night-clad hills there were dark creatures old and strong. 

To those lands and forests the Valar seldom came, save only Yavanna and Oromë; and Yavanna would walk there in the shadows, grieving because the growth and promise of the Spring of Arda was stayed. And she set a sleep upon many things that had arisen in the Spring, so that they should not age, but should wait for a time of awakening that yet should be. But in the north Melkor built his strength, and he slept not, but watched, and laboured; and the evil things that he had perverted walked abroad, and the dark and slumbering woods were haunted by monsters and shapes of dread. 

And in Utumno he gathered his demons about him, those spirits who first adhered to him in the days of his splendour, and became most like him in his corruption: their hearts were of fire, but they were cloaked in darkness, and terror went before them; they had whips of flame. 

Balrogs they were named in Middle-earth in later days. 

And in that dark time Melkor bred many other monsters of divers shapes and kinds that long troubled the world; and his realm spread now ever southward over Middle-earth. And Melkor made also a fortress and armoury not far from the north-western shores of the sea, to resist any assault that might come from Aman. That stronghold was commanded by Sauron, lieutenant of Melkor; and it was named Angband. It came to pass that the Valar held council, for they became troubled by the tidings that Yavanna and Oromë brought from the Outer Lands; and Yavanna spoke before the Valar, saying: ‘Ye mighty of Arda, the Vision of Ilúvatar was brief and soon taken away, so that maybe we cannot guess within a narrow count of days the hour appointed. Yet be sure of this: the hour approaches, and within this age our hope shall be revealed, and the Children shall awake. Shall we then leave the lands of their dwelling desolate and full of evil? Shall they walk in darkness while we have light? Shall they call Melkor lord while Manwë sits upon Taniquetil?’ And Tulkas cried: ‘Nay! Let us make war swiftly! Have we not rested from strife overlong, and is not our strength now renewed? Shall one alone contest with us for ever?’

But at the bidding of Manwë Mandos spoke, and he said: ‘In this age the Children of Ilúvatar shall come indeed, but they come not yet. 

Moreover it is doom that the Firstborn shall come in the darkness, and shall look first upon the stars. 

Great light shall be for their waning. 

To Varda ever shall they call at need.’ 

Then Varda went forth from the council, and she looked out from the height of Taniquetil, and beheld the darkness of Middle-earth beneath the innumerable stars, faint and far. 

Then she began a great labour, greatest of all the works of the Valar since their coming into Arda. 

She took the silver dews from the vats of Telperion, and therewith she made new stars and brighter against the coming of the Firstborn; wherefore she whose name out of the deeps of time and the labours of Eä was Tintallë, the Kindler, was called after by the Elves Elentári, Queen of the Stars. Carnil and Luinil, Nénar and Lumbar, Alcarinquë and Elemmírë she wrought in that time, and many other of the ancient stars she gathered together and set as signs in the heavens of Arda: 

Wilwarin, Telumendil, Soronúmë, and Anarríma; and Menelmacar with his shining belt, that forebodes the Last Battle that shall be at the end of days. 

And high in the north as a challenge to Melkor she set the crown of seven mighty stars to swing, Valacirca, the Sickle of the Valar and sign of doom. 

It is told that even as Varda ended her labours, and they were long, when first Menelmacar strode up the sky and the blue fire of Helluin flickered in the mists above the borders of the world, in that hour the Children of the Earth awoke, the Firstborn of Ilúvatar. 

By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen, Water of Awakening, they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar; and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. Therefore they have ever loved the starlight, and have revered Varda Elentári above all the Valar. In the changes of the world the shapes of lands and of seas have been broken and remade; rivers have not kept their courses, neither have mountains remained steadfast; and to Cuiviénen there is no returning. 

But it is said among the Elves that it lay far off in the east of Middle-earth, and northward, and it was a bay in the Inland Sea of Helcar; and that sea stood where aforetime the roots of the mountain of Illuin had been before Melkor overthrew it. 

Many waters flowed down thither from heights in the east, and the first sound that was heard by the Elves was the sound of water flowing, and the sound of water falling over stone. Long they dwelt in their first home by the water under stars, and they walked the Earth in wonder; and they began to make speech and to give names to all things that they perceived. 

Themselves they named the Quendi, signifying those that speak with voices; for as yet they had met no other living things that spoke or sang. 

And on a time it chanced that Oromë rode eastward in his hunting, and he turned north by the shores of Helcar and passed under the shadows of the Orocarni, the Mountains of the East. Then on a sudden Nahar set up a great neighing, and stood still. And Oromë wondered and sat silent, and it seemed to him that in the quiet of the land under the stars he heard afar off many voices singing. 

Thus it was that the Valar found at last, as it were by chance, those whom they had so long awaited. 

And Oromë looking upon the Elves was filled with wonder, as though they were beings sudden and marvellous and unforeseen; for so it shall ever be with the Valar. 

From without The World, though all things may be forethought in music or foreshown in vision from afar, to those who enter verily into Eä each in its time shall be met at unawares as something new and unforetold. 

In the beginning the Elder Children of Ilúvatar were stronger and greater than they have since become; but not more fair, for though the beauty of the Quendi in the days of their youth was beyond all other beauty that Ilúvatar has caused to be, it has not perished, but lives in the West, and sorrow and wisdom have enriched it. 

And Oromë loved the Quendi, and named them in their own tongue Eldar, the people of the stars; but that name was after borne only by those who followed him upon the westward road. 

Yet many of the Quendi were filled with dread at his coming; and this was the doing of Melkor. 

For by after-knowledge The Wide declare that Melkor, ever watchful, was first aware of the awakening of the Quendi, and sent shadows and evil spirits to spy upon them and waylay them. 

So it came to pass, some years ere the coming of Oromë, that if any of the Elves strayed far abroad, alone or few together, they would often vanish, and never return; and The Quendi said that The Hunter had caught them, and they were afraid. And indeed the most ancient songs of the Elves, of which echoes are remembered still in The West, tell of the shadow-shapes that walked in the hills above Cuiviénen, or would pass suddenly over the stars; and of the dark Rider upon his wild horse that pursued those that wandered to take them and devour them. 

Now Melkor greatly hated and feared the riding of Oromë, and either he sent indeed his dark servants as riders, or he set lying whispers abroad, for the purpose that the Quendi should shun Oromë, if ever they should meet. Thus it was that when Nahar neighed and Oromë indeed came among them, some of the Quendi hid themselves, and some fled and were lost. 

But those that had courage, and stayed, perceived swiftly that the Great Rider was no shape out of darkness; for the light of Aman was in his face, and all the noblest of the Elves were drawn towards it. 

But of those unhappy ones who were ensnared by Melkor little is known of a certainty. For who of the living has descended into the pits of Utumno, or has explored the darkness of the counsels of Melkor? Yet this is held true by the wise of Eressëa, that all those of the Quendi who came into the hands of Melkor, ere Utumno was broken, were put there in prison, and by slow arts of cruelty were corrupted and enslaved; and thus did Melkor breed the hideous race of the Orcs in envy and mockery of the Elves, of whom they were afterwards the bitterest foes. For the Orcs had life and multiplied after the manner of the Children of Ilúvatar; and naught that had life of its own, nor the semblance of life, could ever Melkor make since his rebellion in the Ainulindalë before the Beginning: so say the wise. And deep in their dark hearts the Orcs loathed the Master whom they served in fear, the maker only of their misery. 

This it may be was the vilest deed of Melkor, and the most hateful to Ilúvatar.

Let Them Be for Signs

Observational history

Galileo Galilei was the first astronomer to view the Pleiades through a telescope. He thereby discovered that the cluster contains many stars too dim to be seen with the naked eye. He published his observations, including a sketch of the Pleiades showing 36 stars, in his treatise Sidereus Nuncius in March 1610.

The Pleiades have long been known to be a physically related group of stars rather than any chance alignment. 

John Michell calculated in 1767 that the probability of a chance alignment of so many bright stars was only 1 in 500,000, and so surmised that the Pleiades and many other clusters of stars must be physically related.

When studies were first made of the stars’ proper motions, it was found that they are all moving in the same direction across the sky, at the same rate, further demonstrating that they were related.

Charles Messier measured the position of the cluster and included it as M45 in his catalogue of comet-like objects, published in 1771. Along with the Orion Nebula and the Praesepe cluster, Messier’s inclusion of the Pleiades has been noted as curious, as most of Messier’s objects were much fainter and more easily confused with comets — something that seems scarcely possible for the Pleiades. One possibility is that Messier simply wanted to have a larger catalogue than his scientific rival Lacaille, whose 1755 catalogue contained 42 objects, and so he added some bright, well-known objects to boost his list.

Edme-Sébastien Jeaurat then drew in 1782 a map of 64 stars of the Pleiades from his observations in 1779, which he published in 1786.

OF THE COMING OF THE ELVES AND THE CAPTIVITY OF MELKOR 

Through long ages the Valar dwelt in bliss in the light of the Trees beyond the Mountains of Aman, but all Middle-earth lay in a twilight under the stars. While the Lamps had shone, growth began there which now was checked, because all was again dark. But already the oldest living things had arisen: in the seas the great weeds, and on earth the shadow of great trees; and in the valleys of the night-clad hills there were dark creatures old and strong. 

To those lands and forests the Valar seldom came, save only Yavanna and Oromë; and Yavanna would walk there in the shadows, grieving because the growth and promise of the Spring of Arda was stayed. And she set a sleep upon many things that had arisen in the Spring, so that they should not age, but should wait for a time of awakening that yet should be. But in the north Melkor built his strength, and he slept not, but watched, and laboured; and the evil things that he had perverted walked abroad, and the dark and slumbering woods were haunted by monsters and shapes of dread. 

And in Utumno he gathered his demons about him, those spirits who first adhered to him in the days of his splendour, and became most like him in his corruption: their hearts were of fire, but they were cloaked in darkness, and terror went before them; they had whips of flame. 

Balrogs they were named in Middle-earth in later days. 

And in that dark time Melkor bred many other monsters of divers shapes and kinds that long troubled the world; and his realm spread now ever southward over Middle-earth. And Melkor made also a fortress and armoury not far from the north-western shores of the sea, to resist any assault that might come from Aman. That stronghold was commanded by Sauron, lieutenant of Melkor; and it was named Angband. It came to pass that the Valar held council, for they became troubled by the tidings that Yavanna and Oromë brought from the Outer Lands; and Yavanna spoke before the Valar, saying: ‘Ye mighty of Arda, the Vision of Ilúvatar was brief and soon taken away, so that maybe we cannot guess within a narrow count of days the hour appointed. Yet be sure of this: the hour approaches, and within this age our hope shall be revealed, and the Children shall awake. Shall we then leave the lands of their dwelling desolate and full of evil? Shall they walk in darkness while we have light? Shall they call Melkor lord while Manwë sits upon Taniquetil?’ And Tulkas cried: ‘Nay! Let us make war swiftly! Have we not rested from strife overlong, and is not our strength now renewed? Shall one alone contest with us for ever?’

But at the bidding of Manwë Mandos spoke, and he said: ‘In this age the Children of Ilúvatar shall come indeed, but they come not yet. 

Moreover it is doom that the Firstborn shall come in the darkness, and shall look first upon the stars. 

Great light shall be for their waning. 

To Varda ever shall they call at need.’ 

Then Varda went forth from the council, and she looked out from the height of Taniquetil, and beheld the darkness of Middle-earth beneath the innumerable stars, faint and far. 

Then she began a great labour, greatest of all the works of the Valar since their coming into Arda. She took the silver dews from the vats of Telperion, and therewith she made new stars and brighter against the coming of the Firstborn; wherefore she whose name out of the deeps of time and the labours of Eä was Tintallë, the Kindler, was called after by the Elves Elentári, Queen of the Stars. Carnil and Luinil, Nénar and Lumbar, Alcarinquë and Elemmírë she wrought in that time, and many other of the ancient stars she gathered together and set as signs in the heavens of Arda: Wilwarin, Telumendil, Soronúmë, and Anarríma; and Menelmacar with his shining belt, that forebodes the Last Battle that shall be at the end of days. And high in the north as a challenge to Melkor she set the crown of seven mighty stars to swing, Valacirca, the Sickle of the Valar and sign of doom. 

It is told that even as Varda ended her labours, and they were long, when first Menelmacar strode up the sky and the blue fire of Helluin flickered in the mists above the borders of the world, in that hour the Children of the Earth awoke, the Firstborn of Ilúvatar. 

By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen, Water of Awakening, they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar; and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. Therefore they have ever loved the starlight, and have revered Varda Elentári above all the Valar. In the changes of the world the shapes of lands and of seas have been broken and remade; rivers have not kept their courses, neither have mountains remained steadfast; and to Cuiviénen there is no returning. 

But it is said among the Elves that it lay far off in the east of Middle-earth, and northward, and it was a bay in the Inland Sea of Helcar; and that sea stood where aforetime the roots of the mountain of Illuin had been before Melkor overthrew it. 

Many waters flowed down thither from heights in the east, and the first sound that was heard by the Elves was the sound of water flowing, and the sound of water falling over stone. Long they dwelt in their first home by the water under stars, and they walked the Earth in wonder; and they began to make speech and to give names to all things that they perceived. 

Themselves they named the Quendi, signifying those that speak with voices; for as yet they had met no other living things that spoke or sang. 

And on a time it chanced that Oromë rode eastward in his hunting, and he turned north by the shores of Helcar and passed under the shadows of the Orocarni, the Mountains of the East. Then on a sudden Nahar set up a great neighing, and stood still. And Oromë wondered and sat silent, and it seemed to him that in the quiet of the land under the stars he heard afar off many voices singing. 

Thus it was that the Valar found at last, as it were by chance, those whom they had so long awaited. 

And Oromë looking upon the Elves was filled with wonder, as though they were beings sudden and marvellous and unforeseen; for so it shall ever be with the Valar. 

From without The World, though all things may be forethought in music or foreshown in vision from afar, to those who enter verily into Eä each in its time shall be met at unawares as something new and unforetold. 

In the beginning the Elder Children of Ilúvatar were stronger and greater than they have since become; but not more fair, for though the beauty of the Quendi in the days of their youth was beyond all other beauty that Ilúvatar has caused to be, it has not perished, but lives in the West, and sorrow and wisdom have enriched it. 

And Oromë loved the Quendi, and named them in their own tongue Eldar, the people of the stars; but that name was after borne only by those who followed him upon the westward road. 

Yet many of the Quendi were filled with dread at his coming; and this was the doing of Melkor. 

For by after-knowledge The Wide declare that Melkor, ever watchful, was first aware of the awakening of the Quendi, and sent shadows and evil spirits to spy upon them and waylay them. 

So it came to pass, some years ere the coming of Oromë, that if any of the Elves strayed far abroad, alone or few together, they would often vanish, and never return; and The Quendi said that The Hunter had caught them, and they were afraid. And indeed the most ancient songs of the Elves, of which echoes are remembered still in The West, tell of the shadow-shapes that walked in the hills above Cuiviénen, or would pass suddenly over the stars; and of the dark Rider upon his wild horse that pursued those that wandered to take them and devour them. 

Now Melkor greatly hated and feared the riding of Oromë, and either he sent indeed his dark servants as riders, or he set lying whispers abroad, for the purpose that the Quendi should shun Oromë, if ever they should meet. Thus it was that when Nahar neighed and Oromë indeed came among them, some of the Quendi hid themselves, and some fled and were lost. 

But those that had courage, and stayed, perceived swiftly that the Great Rider was no shape out of darkness; for the light of Aman was in his face, and all the noblest of the Elves were drawn towards it. 

But of those unhappy ones who were ensnared by Melkor little is known of a certainty. For who of the living has descended into the pits of Utumno, or has explored the darkness of the counsels of Melkor? Yet this is held true by the wise of Eressëa, that all those of the Quendi who came into the hands of Melkor, ere Utumno was broken, were put there in prison, and by slow arts of cruelty were corrupted and enslaved; and thus did Melkor breed the hideous race of the Orcs in envy and mockery of the Elves, of whom they were afterwards the bitterest foes. For the Orcs had life and multiplied after the manner of the Children of Ilúvatar; and naught that had life of its own, nor the semblance of life, could ever Melkor make since his rebellion in the Ainulindalë before the Beginning: so say the wise. And deep in their dark hearts the Orcs loathed the Master whom they served in fear, the maker only of their misery. 

This it may be was the vilest deed of Melkor, and the most hateful to Ilúvatar.

The Demand of the Neophyte

"The Fifth Planet was very strange. It was the smallest of all. There was just enough room for a street lamp and a street lamp lighter. 

The little prince couldn’t figure out what purpose a street lamp and a lamp lighter would serve, somewhere in the sky on a planet without houses or any people. 

Still, he said to himself: “Perhaps that man really is a bit absurd. But he is less absurd than the king, or the vain man, or the businessman or the drinker. 

At least his work has meaning. When he lights his street lamp, it’s as if he caused one more star to be born, or a flower. 

When he extinguishes his street lamp it causes the star or flower to go to sleep. 

It’s a very charming job. 

It’s truly useful because it is charming.” 

When he approached the planet, he greeted the street lamp lighter respectfully. “Hello. Why did you just put out your street lamp?” 

“It’s the instructions,” the street lamp lighter replied. “Good day.” 

“What are the instructions?” 

“To extinguish my street lamp. Good evening.” 

And he relit the lamp. 

“But why did you just relight it?” 

“It’s the instructions,” answered the street lamp lighter. 

“ I don’t understand,” the little prince said. 

“There’s nothing to understand,” said the street lamp lighter. “The instructions are the instructions. Good day.” 

And he extinguished his street lamp. 

Then he mopped off his face with a red-checkered handkerchief. 

“I have a terrible job. It used to be reasonable. I extinguished in the morning and I lit at night. I had the rest of the day to rest, and the rest of the night to sleep…” 

“And since that time the instructions have changed?” 

“The instructions haven’t changed,” said the street lamp lighter. “That’s the problem! 

The planet has turned faster and faster from year to year, and the instructions haven’t changed!” 

“Well?” said the little prince. 

“Well, now that it makes a full turn in just one minute, I don’t have a second to relax any more. I light and I extinguish each and every minute!” 

“That’s funny! The days here last a minute!” 

“It’s not funny at all,” said the street lamp lighter. “It’s already been a month since we started talking to each other.” 

“A month?” 

“Yes. Thirty minutes—thirty days! Good evening.” 

And he relit his street lamp. 

The little prince watched him and he liked this street lamp lighter who was so faithful to his duty. 

He remembered the sunsets that he himself used to look for by moving his chair. 

 

He wanted to help his friend: “You know…I know a way that you can rest whenever you want to…” 

 

“I always want to,” the street lamp lighter said. 

 

For someone can be, at the same time, both diligent and lazy. 

 

The little prince continued: “Your planet is so little that in fact you can circle it in three big steps. You only have to walk slowly to remain always in the sunshine. When you want to take a break, you should walk…and the day will last as long as you want.” 

 

“That doesn’t improve my situation very much,” said the street lamp lighter. “What I would love to do in life is to sleep.” 

 

“You won’t have a chance,” said the little prince. 

 

“I won’t have a chance,” said the street lamp lighter. “Good day.” 

 

And he extinguished his street lamp. “That one,” the little prince said to himself, while he went on with his journey, “would be looked down upon by The Others, by The King, by The Vain Man, by The Drinker, by The Businessman. 

 

But he is the only one who does not seem ridiculous to me. 

 

Maybe it is because he is concerned with something other than himself.” 

 

He sighed a sigh of regret and went on saying to himself: “That one there is the only one that I would want to have as My Friend. But his planet is really too small. There’s not enough space for two…” 

 

What the little prince didn’t dare to admit to himself was that he missed that blessed planet especially because of the one thousand four hundred forty sunsets it had every twenty four hours!

The Demand of the Neophyte 

(continuation of Comments on Light on the Path)

Lucifer I Vol. 3 November 1887

by author Mabel Collins

“Before The Voice can speak in the presence of The Masters”

Speech is The Power of Communication; the moment of entrance into active life is marked by its attainment.

And now, before I go any further, let me explain a little the way in which the rules written down in “Light on the Path” are arranged. The first seven of those which are numbered are subdivisions of the two first unnumbered rules, those with which I have dealt in the two preceding papers. The numbered rules were simply an effort of mine to make the unnumbered ones more intelligible. “Eight” to “fifteen” of these numbered rules belong this unnumbered rule which is now my text.

As I have said, these rules are written for all disciples, but for none else; they are not of interest to any other persons. Therefore I trust no one else will trouble to read these papers any further. The first two rules, which include the whole of that part of the effort which necessitates the use of the surgeon’s knife, I will enlarge upon further if I am asked to do so.. But the disciple is expected to deal with the snake, his lower self, unaided; to suppress his human passions and emotions by the force of his own will. He can only demand assistance of a Master when this is accomplished, or at all events, partially so. Otherwise the gates and windows of his soul are blurred, and blinded, and darkened, and no knowledge can come to him. I am not, in these pages, purposing to tell a man how to deal with his own soul; I am simply giving, to the disciple, knowledge. That I am not writing, even now, so that all who run may read, is owing to the fact that supernature prevents this by its own immutable laws.

The four rules which I have written down for those in the West who wish to study them, are as I have said, written in the antechamber of every living Brotherhood; I may add more, in the ante-chamber of every living or dead Brotherhood, or Order yet to be formed. When I speak of a Brotherhood or an Order, I do not mean an arbitrary constitution made by scholiasts and intellectualists; I mean an actual fact in supernature, a stage of development towards the absolute God or Good. During this development the disciple encounters harmony, pure knowledge, pure truth, in different degrees and, as he enters these degrees, he finds himself becoming part of what might be roughly described as a layer of human consciousness. He encounters his equals, men of his own selfless character, and with them his association becomes permanent and indissoluble, because founded on a vital likeness of nature. To them he becomes [Page 171] pledged by such vows as need no utterance or framework in ordinary words. This is one aspect of what I mean by a Brotherhood.

If the first rules are conquered the disciple finds himself standing at the threshold. Then if his will is sufficiently resolute his power of speech comes; a twofold power. For, as he advances now, he finds himself entering into a state of blossoming, where every bud that opens throws out its several rays or petals. If he is to exercise his new gift, he must use it in its twofold character. 

He finds in himself The Power to Speak in The Presence of The Masters; in other words, he has the right to demand contact with the divinest element of that state of consciousness into which he has entered. 

But he finds himself compelled, by the nature of his position, to act in two ways at the same time. He cannot send his voice up to the heights where sit the gods till he has penetrated to the deep places where their light shines not at all. 

He has come within the grip of an Iron Law. If he demands to become a Neophyte, he at once becomes a Servant. 

Yet his service is sublime, if only from the character of those who share it. For The Masters are also Servants; they serve and claim their reward afterwards. 

Part of their service is to let their knowledge touch him; his first act of service is to give some of that knowledge to those who are not yet fit to stand where he stands. 

This is no arbitrary decision, made by any Master or Teacher or any such person, however divine. It is a Law of That Life Which The Disciple Has Entered Upon.

Therefore was it written in the inner doorway of the lodges of the old Egyptian Brotherhood, “The labourer is worthy of his hire”.

“Ask and ye shall have”, sounds like something too easy and simple to be credible. But the disciple cannot “ask” in the mystic sense in which the word is used in this scripture, until he has attained The Power of Helping others.

Why is this? Has the statement too dogmatic a sound?

Is it too dogmatic to say that a man must have foothold before he can spring? The position is the same. If help is given, if work is done, then there is an actual claim — not what we call a personal claim of payment, but the claim of co-nature. 

The Divine give, They demand that you also shall give before you can be of their kin.

This Law is discovered as soon as The Disciple endeavours to Speak. 

 

For Speech is a Gift which comes only to The Disciple of Power and Knowledge. 

The Spiritualist enters the psychic-astral world, but he does not find there any certain speech, unless he at once claims it and continues to do so. If he is interested in “phenomena”, or the mere circumstance and accident of astral life, then he enters no direct ray of Thought or Purpose, he merely exists and amuses himself in the astral life as he has existed and amused himself in the physical life. 

Certainly there are one or two simple lessons which the psychic-astral can teach him, just as there are simple lessons which material and intellectual life teach him. 

And these lessons have to be learned; the man who proposes to enter upon The Life of The Disciple without having learned the early and simple lessons must always suffer from his ignorance. They are vital, and have to be studied in a vital manner; experienced through and through, over and over again, so that each part of the nature has been penetrated by them.

To return. In claiming The Power of Speech, as it is called, the Neophyte cries out to the Great One who stands foremost in The Ray of Knowledge on which he has entered, to give him guidance. 

 

When he does this, His Voice is hurled back by The Power he has approached, and echoes down to the deep recesses of human ignorance. 

 

In some confused and blurred manner the news that there is Knowledge and a Beneficent Power Which Teaches, is carried to as many Men as will listen to it. No Disciple can cross The Threshold without communicating this news, and placing it on record in some fashion or other.

He stands horror-struck at the Imperfect and Unprepared manner in which he has done this, and then comes The Desire to Do it Well, and with The Desire thus To Help Others comes The Power. 

 

For it is a Pure Desire, this which comes upon him; he can gain no credit, no glory, no personal reward by fulfilling it. 

 

And therefore he obtains The Power TO Fulfil it.

The History of The Whole Past, so far as we can trace it, shows very plainly that there is neither credit, glory, nor reward to be gained by this first task which is given to the Neophyte. 

 

Mystics have always been sneered at, and seers disbelieved; those who have had The Added Power of Intellect have left for posterity their written record, which to most men appears unmeaning and visionary, even when The Authors have the advantage of Speaking from a Far-off Past. 

 

The Disciple who undertakes The Task, secretly hoping for fame or success, to appear as a Teacher and Apostle before The World, fails even before his task is attempted, and his hidden hypocrisy poisons his own soul, and the souls of those he touches. He is secretly worshipping himself, and this idolatrous practice must bring its own reward.

The Disciple who has The Power of Entrance, and is Strong enough to pass each barrier, will, when The Divine Message comes to His Spirit, forget himself utterly in the new consciousness which falls on him. 

 

If this lofty contact can really rouse him, he becomes as One of The Divine in his desire to Give rather than to Take, in his Wish to Help rather than Be Helped, in His Resolution to Feed The Hungry rather than take manna from Heaven himself. 

 

His Nature is transformed, and The Selfishness Which Prompts Men’s Actions in Ordinary Life suddenly deserts him.

What is The Secret Fire 

that Gandalf Serves?

From: Erik Tracy

Some people are genuinely puzzled over Gandalf's words to the Balrog of Moria when he first warns it:

 

" 'You cannot pass,' he said. The orcs stood still and a silence fell. 'I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The Dark Fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the Shadow. You cannot pass!' "

 

[The Fellowship of the Ring]

Some people have taken this to mean that Gandalf serves his Ring of Fire, Narya. But this is not consistent or appropriate when Gandalf's history is taken as a whole.

I was re-reading the Silmarillion for references to what the "Secret Fire" that Gandalf serves, and I found the following:

 

"He [Melkor] had gone often alone into the void places seeking the Imperishable Flame; for desire grew hot within him to bring into Being things of his own, and it seemed to him that Iluvatar took no thought for the Void, and he was impatient of its emptiness. Yet he found not the Fire, for it is with Iluvatar."

 

[The Silmarillion]

Then later:

 

"Therefore Iluvatar gave to their vision Being, and set it amid the Void, and the Secret Fire was sent to burn at the heart of the World; and it was called Ea."

 

[The Silmarillion]

The Imperishable Flame and the Secret Fire seem to represent the same thing; The Power of Iluvatar to impart actual Being to his thought - The Spirit of Creation, if you will. 

 

It seems fitting that this would be something that Gandalf (as a Maia sent from the West by the Valar) would "Serve" as counterposed to the evil of the Balrog. 

 

In this context, any notion of Gandalf serving the power of his ring Narya is absurd, IMHO (g).

As to what is meant by Gandalf's words "Flame of Udun", I simply infer that this is another word for Balrog. Balrogs are demons of fire, and the word Udun is found as an entry in the glossary of The Silmarillion under "tum":

"Cf. Utumno, Sindarin Udun (Gandalf in Moria named the Balrog 'Flame of Udun'), a name afterwards used of the deep dale in Moria between the Morannon and the Isenmouthe."

And Utumno is of course the first stronghold of Melkor in the North of Middle-earth. Hence, Flame of Udun could be read as Servant of Morgoth or Balrog from Morgoth's Fortress [Udun].

 

Just conjecture, of course.

Baptism of Fire

The Grey Pilgrim

"I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance: but he that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptise you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire" 

Matthew 3:11 

King James Version 1611

Martin : 

You got everything Money can buy --

Except what it can't.

 

It's Pride. Pride is what got your ass outta here, and losing it is what brought ya back. 

But People Like You, they need to be Tested. They need A Challenge.

Mason 'The Line' Dixon : 

But you know that ain't never gonna happen. 

There ain't anybody out there, Martin.

Martin : 

There's always somebody out there. Always. 

And when that time comes 

and you find Something standing in front of you, Something that ain't running 

and ain't backing up and is hitting on you 

and you're too damn tired to breathe --

You find That Situation on you --

That's good, 'cause that's 

Baptism Under Fire! 

Oh, you get through that and you find the only kind of respect that matters in this damn world: self-respect.

From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth... 

Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountain side...

Darkness Took Me.

And I strayed away through Thought and Time. 

Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a Life Age of The Earth... 

The Grey Magickian

But it was not The End. 

I felt life in me again. 

I've been sent back until my task is done.

"But this fiery Isis is also connected with initiation, magic, and healing. In Plutarch’s rendition of the Isis myth, Isis nurses the child of Queen Astarte during the day, but at night magically sets the child aflame, making him immortal. The Graeco-Egyptian magical papyri suggest an explanation for this fire magic Isis works on the queen’s son. The Charm of the Syrian Woman of Gadara  says, “the most majestic Goddess’ child [Horus] was set aflame as an initiate.” Initiation is here seen as purification by fire so that the mortal parts of the initiate are burned away, allowing her or him to more fully understand the ways of the Deities. 

Some scholars believe that this initiatory fire magic may have had its origins in Egyptian healing magic and what they call the “burning Horus” formula.  This refers to an Egyptian convention that connects poisoning with fire. In the same way that the uraeus spits fire, when Horus is poisoned, he is also, in a sense, burned. Burn-healing formulae identify the sufferer with Horus and say that “a fire has fallen into” Horus, that is, the sufferer. They invoke Isis to put out the fire and heal the burn. The initiatory connection may come from the fact that the poison-burned Horus experiences near-death before being healed by Isis. Mystery initiates, too, regularly undergo symbolic near-death experiences before being saved by the Goddess or God of the Mystery Rite.

Isis is Iset Wosret and the fire-spitting Cobra Goddess. She is the Mistress of Light and Flame Who slays evil and protects us all. And She is the one Who not only initiates us by fire, but also warms us by Her illuminating flame."

I was born in a Crossfire Hurricane
And I howled at the Mourning, Driving Rain
I was raised by a Toothless, Bearded Hag
I was schooled with a strap right across my back
I was drowned, I was washed up and left for dead
I fell down to my feet and I saw that they bled
I frowned at the crumbs of a crust of bread
I was crowned with a spike right through my head

But its all right now
In fact its a gas
Isis was known also for being both the Mother of Life and the Crone of Death. 

Her immense powers earned her the titles of "The Giver of Life" and "Goddess of Magic". 

Her best known story illustrates why she is simultaneously known as a creation goddess and as a destruction goddess.

Isis was the Goddess of the Earth in ancient Egypt and loved her brother Osiris. When they married, Osiris became the first King of Earth. 

Their brother Set, immensely jealous of their powers, murdered Osiris so he could usurp the throne. 

Set did this by tricking Osiris into stepping into a beautiful box made of cedar, ebony and ivory that he had ordered built to fit only Osiris. 

Set then sealed it up to become a coffin and threw it into the river. 

The river carried the box out to sea; it washed up in another country, resting in the upper boughs of a tamarisk tree when the waters receded. 

As time passed, the branches covered the box, encapsulating the god in his coffin in the trunk of the tree. 

In a state of inconsolable grief, Isis tore her robes to shreds and cut off her beautiful black hair.

"Buffy! You cut your hair!"

When she finally regained her emotional balance, Isis set out to search for the body of her beloved Osiris so that she might bury him properly. 

The search took Isis to Phoenicia where she met Queen Astarte. 

Astarte didn't recognize the goddess and hired her as a nursemaid to the infant prince. 

Fond of the young boy, Isis decided to bestow immortality on him. 

As she was holding the royal infant over the fire as part of the ritual, the Queen entered the room. 

Seeing her son smoldering in the middle of the fire, Astarte instinctively (but naively) grabbed the child out of the flames, undoing the magic of Isis that would have made her son a god. 

No second chances...? 

No second attempt to complete the ritual...?

Would he have aged normally or will he be as Horus, an eternal infant godling...?

When the Queen demanded an explanation, Isis revealed her identity and told Astarte of her quest to recover her husband's body. 

As she listened to the story, Astarte realized that the body was hidden in the fragrant tree in the center of the palace and told Isis where to find it. 

Sheltering his broken body in her arms, the goddess Isis carried the body of Osiris back to Egypt for proper burial. 

There she hid it in the swamps on the delta of the Nile river. Unfortunately, Set came across the box one night when he was out hunting. 

Infuriated by this turn of events and determined not to be outdone, he murdered Osiris once again: this time hacking his body into 14 pieces and throwing them in different directions knowing that they would be eaten by the crocodiles. 

This is where the Adventists, Watchtower Society, and Prince get their doctrine of the indivisibility of Body, Mind and Spirit.

The goddess Isis searched and searched, accompanied by seven scorpions who assisted and protected her. 

Each time she found new pieces she rejoined them to re-form his body. But Isis could only recover thirteen of the pieces. 

The fourteenth, his penis, had been swallowed by a crab so she fashioned one from gold and wax. 

Then inventing the rites of embalming, and speaking some words of magic, Isis brought her husband back to life. 

[ Kinda...But just for one last visit. ]

Magically, Isis then conceived a child with Osiris, and gave birth to Horus, who later became the Sun God.

Assured that having the infant would now relieve Isis' grief, Osiris was free to descend to become the King of the Underworld, ruling over the dead and the sleeping. 

His spirit, however, frequently returned to be with Isis and the young Horus who both remained under his watchful and loving eye.