12. The Great Workb

The diversity of the forms which abound in Nature is explained, in this treatise, by the diversity of spirits, and monstrosity by divergence of efforts. Its study and understanding are indispensable for all adepts who would fathom the mysteries of Nature and devote themselves seriously to the search after the Great Work. When the masters in alchemy say that little time and money are needed to accomplish the works of science, above all when they affirm that one vessel is alone needed, when they speak of the great and unique Athanor which all can use, which is ready to each man's hand, which all possess without knowing it, they allude to philosophical and moral alchemy. As a fact, the strong and resolute will can arrive in a short time at absolute independence, and we are all in possession of the chemical instrument, the great and sole Athanor which answers for the separation of the subtle from the gross and the fixed from the volatile. This instrument, complete as the world and precise as mathematics, is represented by the sages under the emblem of the Pentagram or five-pointed star, which is the absolute sign of human intelligence. I will follow the example of the wise by forbearing to name it: it is too easy to divine. The Tarot symbol which corresponds to this chapter was misconstrued by Court de Gebelin and Etteilla, who regarded it as the blunder of a German card-maker. It represents a man with his hands bound behind him, having two bags of money attached to the armpits, and suspended by one foot from a gibbet formed by the trunks of two trees, each with the stumps of six lopped branches, and by a crosspiece, thus completing the figure of the Hebrew TAU . The legs of the victim are crossed, while his head and elbows form a triangle. Now, the triangle surmounted by a cross signifies in alchemy the end and perfection of the Great Work, a meaning which is identical with that of the letter TAU ת the last of the sacred alphabet. This Hanged Man is, consequently, the adept, bound by his engagements and spiritualized, that is, having his feet turned towards heaven. He is also the antique Prometheus, expiating by everlasting torture the penalty of his glorious theft. Vulgarly, he is the traitor Judas, and his punishment is a menace to betrayers of the Great Arcanum. Finally, for Kabalistic Jews, the Hanged Man, who corresponds to their twelfth dogma, that of the promised Messiah, is a protestation against the Saviour acknowledged by Christians, and they seem to say unto Him still: How canst Thou save others, since Thou couldst not save Thyself? In the Sepher-Toldos-Jeshu, an anti-Christian rabbinical compilation, there occurs a singular parable. Jeshu, says the rabbinical author of the legend, was travelling with Simon-Barjona and Judas Iscariot. Late and weary they came to a lonely house, and, being very hungry, could find nothing to eat except an exceedingly lean gosling. It was insufficient for three persons, and to divide it would be to sharpen without satisfying hunger. They agreed to draw lots, but as they were heavy with sleep: “Let us first of all slumber,” said Jeshu, “whilst the supper is preparing; when we wake we will tell our dreams, and he who has had the most beautiful dream shall have the whole gosling to his own share.” So it was arranged; they slept and they woke. “As for me,” said St.