Your Previous Life on Earth

Reincarnation Simplified

To my correspondents all over the world, whose interest and encouragement continue to support me in my work, I dedicate this book with love and service

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  1. Reincarnation
  2. President Roosevelt
  3. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in January
  4. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in February
  5. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in March
  6. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in April
  7. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in May
  8. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in June
  9. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in July
  10. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in August
  11. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in September
  12. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in October
  13. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in November
  14. Weekly Reconstructions of Persons Born in December

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Reincarnation

We should not strive to believe in immortality—but to prove it.

For thousands of years organized religion has demanded our belief and our faith in the hereafter.

The theologist has sought to explain life, with its miseries, its injustices and its inequalities, by a future condition rewarding and punishing men for the deeds they have performed on earth. He admits that benevolence and justice in God cannot be proven by what is seen of His earthly administration. It does not seem to occur to him that the Divine Principle (God), which has no limitations, can bestow justice only in some future state. He insists upon brotherly love in a world where sin and suffering are bequeathed to humanity; where the strongest wins, the weakest fails and the devil takes the hindermost.

The materialist, on the other hand, believes that the soul (if he believes in it at all) begins and ends with the present existence. He believes that life was hurled on to this planet by some cosmic disturbance which left all development to blind chance.

The student of psychic research investigates what he calls supersensuous knowledge. He examines people in trance condition who claim to be controlled by some departed spirit. By the statements of the departed spirit speaking through the lips of the medium he hopes to prove immortality. Nine times out of ten the “control” gives personal messages which are unimportant or it tells its listeners something they already know.

The psychologist translates present behaviour in terms of previous incident. He believes that a man may dislike his mother because in childhood she hurt him in some way, and the memory of the injury, even if he has apparently forgotten it, lingers somewhere in his subconscious mind. This is correct so far as it goes; but the psychologist does not penetrate far enough into the past. The unfortunate incident may have occurred in some previous existence which the psychologist cannot trace and which no amount of probing into inheritance can reveal.

Science, which was once the materialist’s gospel, is now studying and classifying facts which must be placed in the realm of non-physical things.

Reincarnation, because it is not organized, is condemned without a hearing in the Western nations. On every hand one hears people say that they do not believe in it—who in the next breath say that they know nothing about it. Prejudice has forbidden any investigation of the subject. Members of the clergy, who are frequently impressed by the words of mediums, are horrified if anyone mentions Reincarnation. But, in spite of prejudice, Reincarnation alone has proved immortality. One person who remembers his previous existence, the facts of which can be thoroughly investigated by the most sceptical investigator, has proved immortality for all time. One such case makes further investigation unnecessary.

In the East, where prejudice has not delayed investigation, Reincarnation has been proved without the shadow of a doubt. I do not refer to old cases on the Eastern records, but to the statements of children (most of them too young to know anything about Reincarnation) which have been investigated. I personally investigated the statements of two children aged seven and nine. One child lived in India, the other in China. Both belonged to illiterate families and neither knew anything about Reincarnation. The Chinese child insisted that he had lived in a previous existence in a place over six hundred miles from his home. He gave the name of the person he had formerly been and mentioned the previous conditions of his daily life. Investigation proved that he told the truth. I might have discredited this child’s statement had not an English friend acted as interpreter. The friend, in this case being very sceptical, hoped to find some flaw in the child’s statement. I think he was disappointed when none could be found.

The Indian child was actually taken to the place where she insisted that she had formerly lived and commanded to find the house and the people she had formerly known. She found the house and the man she claimed was her former husband. The man admitted that his wife had been dead for twenty years. The child then told him his wife’s name and reminded him of certain incidents which had happened when they lived together. The man admitted that his former wife alone knew of the things the child mentioned.

In spite of such startling evidence, which anyone can follow up for himself, the Western nations refuse to believe in Reincarnation. Disbelief, as well as belief, is a matter of the will. We will not to believe that which we fear to investigate.

I have been told that Reincarnation is a very gloomy religion; that the law of karma leaves life without hope. I can answer this by saying that Reincarnation has nothing to do with religion. Reincarnation is a natural law in operation, a penetration into the laws of cause and effect. Science has taught us (in the physical world) that nothing can die, for nothing is ever totally extinguished. When one form of animation leaves the body another is switched on. The body which is alive in all its cells begins to function in another direction. It fertilizes other life, which life in turn fertilizes other life.

Certain investigations in physical science have proved that personality is under the same law, that it inhabits a vehicle in which it can survive. The question is asked by people who would challenge Reincarnation: Why should I return to the hardship, poverty and struggle of this world? They fail to realize that there is no hardship, poverty or struggle in the world save what man has produced. Man has created all the misery in the world: the wars, the absurd governments, the poverty, the superstitions which hamper the intellect, most of the illnesses, the various fears, and all the ugliness. Even religion has not escaped the ruthless hand of man. The Christianity of the Sermon on the Mount had to be changed to suit the temperament of virile races before it could become a world religion. Its spiritual force had to be tempered by mixing with it a good deal of worldliness to suit the aggressive, warring races of Europe. The religion of Christ plays a very small part in European life. Man has used religion to further his vanity and his selfish claims, for there is no such thing as an instinct of religion; nor is religion a primary emotion. It is born of fear and hope. It is an emotion built up of admiration, awe, reverence, self-abasement and love of mystery. The falling off in religion to-day is contemporaneous with a better understanding of the so-called supernatural. Faith establishes a vague relation between the known and the unknown, but as knowledge increases more light is thrown on the unknown, for progress in knowledge lessens the number of things we fear. The life of the intellect need not be the death of religion; but no alluring will-o’-the-wisp of mere emotional satisfaction can resuscitate an interest in waning religion.

The ordinary Christian idea of creation at birth suggests annihilation at death. But why should the soul be eternal on one side of its earthly sojourn and not on the other? If the soul sprang into existence only for this life, why should it continue when this life is over? The materialist who says that the soul originated with this existence and believes that it ends with this existence is at least rational.

Even embryo life calls for some preparation preceding it. The order of creation is everywhere subject to change. The ceaseless force of life passes through mineral, vegetable and animal without losing its individuality. Every creature is constantly progressing to another form. The tadpole becomes the frog, the fish becomes the bird, the form of the elephant was contained in the mammoth. Evolution proves that the physical part of man has passed through a series of changes in which each stage is the effect of past influence. Does not the immaterial part of man require a development as varied? Nothing springs suddenly into existence. Everything is derived from some cause. Natural science will not allow the miracle of special resurrection which is contrary to all experience, but it will allow the resurrection throughout nature which is a matter of common observation.

There is no other explanation of the phenomena of life than the scientific one. Spiritual evolution, like physical evolution, is governed by cause and effect. Every physical body is different. Nature does not deal in duplicates. Even the finger-prints of every hand she contrives to make different. The characteristics of each personality are vastly different. Some earlier experience has been required to fashion them, or the same environment and training would tend to make one person exactly like another.

The development of the soul by the school of experience demands greater scope than that furnished by one earthly life. If it takes thousands of lives to form one animal from another, the expansion of the soul needs many lives for its growth. Natural science explains the instinctive acts of young animals as inherited tendencies. Spiritual science is learning that the acts of human beings are derived from remote habits the memory of which are stored in the unconscious self. Since there are many powers and substances in nature which our present senses cannot grasp, is it not reasonable to suppose that we must in time acquire senses to deal with them? This applies to soul experience as well as physical experience. If the purpose of life is the acquisition of experience it is unreasonable to suppose that the soul will be transferred to another sphere until it has acquired the knowledge which an earthly existence can teach it. Children who die before they know the difference between what we call right and wrong have won neither the promised bliss nor the punishment meted out in that vague state called the hereafter.

I am constantly asked, If I lived before, why cannot I remember my former life? The identity of the soul does not consist in the remembrance of all its past, any more than in the remembrance of all its present existence. How many people know what happened to them in infancy? But no one would deny that he existed during infancy. It does not apply, however, that because the average person cannot remember his past that no one can remember his past. The average person does not possess a magnificent voice, but we cannot deny that we have great singers in our midst.

The question also arises, Why is one person born into wealth and luxury and another in the depths of poverty? Reincarnation teaches that the soul does not enter each life as a fresh creation, but after long experiences in the past, where it earned its rewards or punishments. Through successive generations the same personality has animated a number of bodies and carried into each the character it formed in the past. Were it otherwise there would be no such thing as individual reward and punishment. Even during this one life our bodies are constantly changing through decay and restoration, consequently the soul dwells in various bodies during one life.

If the soul were a fresh creation in each life, we should all start fair in the race. One child is mentally deficient, another possesses criminal instincts, still another is amiable and loyal. Then there is the genius, which science has worked overtime to explain. Physical heredity cannot account for these vastly different tendencies. Science usually tells us what genius is, but not why genius exists. Genius, science says, is the development of one portion of the brain to the detriment of all other portions. The very word development explodes this theory. Certain children who have never had time to develop one portion of their brains have produced work which adults after years of striving have not been able to produce. Mozart playing the operas at the age of five cannot have had the opportunity of developing one portion of his brain to the detriment of the other portions. Science cannot explain the musical (or any other) prodigy, because science would never admit the law of cause and effect which is known as karma. Karma (the doctrine of Reincarnation) is a Sanskrit word which means action. In Reincarnation it is used to denote cause and effect. The causes which affect our present lives had their inception in the past, when we earned what we are receiving to-day, when we built up from our former habits and deeds the personality which we have to-day. We belong to nations, we may believe in the unity of the state, we may hope to progress as societies, as groups—but never for one moment can we cease to be individuals. Certain people who believe in Reincarnation talk about the karma of nations. There is no such thing as national karma. Nations have always been controlled by individuals. National consciousness could not exist. All progress a nation has made, all misfortune it has encountered existed first in the mind of one individual. It may seem that certain groups have agreed to one form of government, but there is always one mind which dominates the group. No nation has ever been greater than some one individual, whether he has used the spoken or written word or something much more subtle.

The civilizations of the past were directed by certain individuals. To-day certain countries are dictator-ruled. Others are ruled by groups who engage in endless discussions until one brain dominates the situation. History has been made by individuals. The future will be arranged by individuals. Great personalities fashion the age in which they live. It does not fashion them.

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Reincarnation unites the family of mankind into a universal brotherhood. It destroys the barriers which have been raised between individuals, nations and races. All receive justice. Certain individuals are not ordained to honour and others to abasement. There are no special gifts. Physical blessings and mental talents are the results of individual achievement. Sorrows, defects and failures are the results of former negligence. The road to spiritual perfection is always ahead. The downward path is but the other direction of the same way. Let us not despise those who travel it, for we have all travelled it at one time or another. All the tragic and beautiful poetry, all the sublime music are the voice of man singing to the progressive soul.

Contrary to the opinion of many, Reincarnation is optimistic. It allows each individual to be the master of his own destiny; it gives one the opportunity to correct his own mistakes; it permits the individual soul to profit from each experience it encounters; it has proved immortality; science is steadily confirming it; it alone solves the problem of (apparent) injustice; and, not being a religion, it interferes with no religion.

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Certain of my correspondents have in writing me mentioned the new belief, Reincarnation. May I say that the belief in Reincarnation existed before our histories were written? In earliest India it was firmly established. The infancy of Egypt found it dominating the Nile country. It was known in Greece before Pythagoras mentioned it, and the ancient civilizations of Mexico and Peru knew it as the faith of their fathers. The Rig-Veda, the oldest book in the world, mentions it. The immortality of the soul was an ancient belief before Hinduism was established. In the early doctrine of Hinduism there were no distinct gods. Through everything flowed the stream of ever-changing life, until gradually an ecclesiastical system developed upon which religions were founded.

It is certain that Plato was convinced of the truth of Reincarnation. All his works testify to the fact that he believed the mind was superior to the body, and soul to both.

The Body

The body should be governed by the energy we call the soul—the energy which is for ever changing its abode; but few people really believe that the mind can control the body.

In the Christian nations the belief in three score years and ten allows the body to begin the process of disintegration at fifty and to shuffle off this mortal coil at seventy. This race belief has annihilated more people in Western nations than wars, epidemics or accidents. Because this belief is ingrained in the mind men and women allow the elasticity to depart from their bodies in middle life. Any body can remain elastic until the soul wills to pass from it. To retain elasticity it is necessary to dissociate yourself from the age of your body. You would not be conscious of your body were it not for the energy which flows into your flesh. This outside energy is you. When what you call death occurs, this energy is released from the body. But until it is released it should control the body. The Eastern yogi, whose body is nothing more than an instrument of his will, does not permit his body to become ill or to become crippled by rheumatism. In other words, he does not permit the elasticity to leave his body. Naturally he does not feed the body with alcohol or food in excess and he keeps it supple by movements and rhythmic breathing. His body warns him of the approach of storm or the approach of an enemy. He realizes that it has more than five senses and he uses all its powers. He does not believe in three score years and ten, and consequently many yogis live to be well over one hundred.

In the Mokattam Hills, north of Cairo, there is a tiny oasis which contains the tekiyah (home) of an order of Turkish holy men who worship God with music, dancing and poetry. These men believe that “God should be worshipped with all that is pure.” Evil influences should, they believe, be danced out of the body and adoration expressed by it. It should be purified frequently by fasting and meditation. They insist that food (unless eaten only when actually required—and then in small portions) heats the blood, which in turn heats the brain, rendering it incapable of “higher thought.” I make no comment on their religion, but their bodies are the bodies of young men, and there is not a young man in the order. As a matter of fact, many of them would be considered extremely aged by Western reckoning, but every movement they make, from passing a coffee cup to a guest to the whirl of the dervish-dance, expresses the utmost of elasticity.

In the West if one lives to be over one hundred the newspapers mention it and telegrams are sent to the centenarian congratulating him on his great age. In the East when one lives to be over one hundred no one thinks anything about it.

Of course we of the West cannot acquire the bodies of yogis, because the yogi starts in childhood to develop his body; but we can control the body by the mind. We can have a carefully planned diet, we can dance to prevent stiffness from creeping into the joints, and we can dissociate our essential selves from the age of our bodies. I hope no one will think that by dancing I mean clutching another person and stiffly turning round in a room reeking of tobacco smoke. Dancing should be done out of doors or in a room with the windows open. Any exercise should be discontinued the moment you feel tired, as fatigue-poison interferes with the elasticity of the body.

Many grandmothers are younger than their grandchildren. It is the soul which announces the age of an individual. The body is an instrument of the will, and it is capable of achieving only that which the will directs it to achieve.

Clairvoyance

Certain members of the occult Order to which I belong have by using astrology as a clue projected their senses (by the will) into the past and discovered the abode of any given ego (anyone mentioning his birthdate and name). They used astrology to find the position of the moon in the birth chart of an individual, and discovered that people born in this life with the moon in a certain position must have passed out of their previous lives under certain signs. From these signs they reconstructed the previous charts and then compared them with clairvoyant observation. With regard to the children whose previous lives I investigated from their own statements, it was found that the astrological clue reinforced by clairvoyance corresponded almost exactly (about ninety per cent.) with the actual investigations.

For convenience in reconstructing a person’s previous life the Order uses symbols in much the same way as an astrologer uses his various ephemerides when calculating a person’s birth chart. Students of the Order set up the symbols as astrologers set up the position of the stars. Certain symbols are ancient ones which have been used by the Chaldean occultists. Others have been added at various times as clairvoyant projections have been made from certain birthdates and especially from the names of individuals. At first the name symbols indicated the letters of the Chaldean alphabet. This was rather awkward, as letters composing Western names had to be translated, so far as possible, into their Chaldean equivalents. Symbols have gradually been listed which correspond with the letters of other alphabets, and reconstructions can now be made from almost any name. In the case of Chinese names the Chinese themselves write their names (when requesting reconstructions) in what they are pleased to call English, French, German, etc. The Chinese have always been interested in symbolism, and they have many ancient symbols which have been adopted by the Order.

Whether we believe in symbols or not we use them constantly. Money is the symbol for various values. Our “exact” science mathematics is nothing but symbolism, for figures do not exist. They are symbols which represent something.

The reconstructions which appear in this book have been made for the weeks of the year. Do not think that these reconstructions represent your only incarnations. Your personal charts could not be set up without your name symbols. For each week I have endeavoured to give a short outline of the country in which you lived at the time you lived there. In these sketches I have reconstructed the background against which one of your former existences was portrayed.

The word “occultism” seems to frighten people in general. Occultism simply means the investigation of the unknown—so, consequently, science proceeds under the occult law.

“Clairvoyance” is another word which terrifies the uninitiated. They think of it as some supernatural thing—something to do with mediumship and a state of semi-consciousness called trance. “Clairvoyance” and “clair-audience” are words which express the extension of the physical senses. There is nothing superhuman about such an extension. Clairvoyance and clair-audience come naturally to anyone who, by his will, can extend his susceptibility. It is not a question of vision or hearing, but of the power wilfully to become susceptible. All impressions reach us from without on long or short waves which penetrate matter. The eye of the average human being responds only to the vibrations which produce the sensation we call light. The average ear responds only to the vibrations which affect the air surrounding it; but there is an infinity of waves perceived by the clairvoyant which do not register on the average ear and are not seen by the average eye.

People who wish to dispose of clairvoyance without investigation say that the clairvoyant imagines everything. There is no such thing as imagination. What we call imagination is our memory (acquired in previous existences) contacting the (waiting) knowledge by which we are surrounded. Nothing comes from nothing. We could not take out of our consciousness what we had not already put into it.

Organized religion teaches us that everything comes from within. It also teaches us that we are born with no knowledge of anything. It is impossible to reconcile these two statements.

A little investigation will reveal the fact that what comes from within is the memory of our previous experiences. If we possess no knowledge but what is apparent in our outer consciousness, how is it that a hypnotized person can describe things which he has never consciously known—and this when there is no knowledge of the things described in the mind of the operator? Hypnotized subjects have been known to describe their previous lives. “Imagination,” you may say. There is a test which can be made to discover whether a person is really hypnotized or just feigning hypnotism. Go into another room and carry on a conversation in whispers. The hypnotized person can repeat what you have said, as the senses are more alert under hypnotism. He can also “look” into his own body and describe the working of his organs. This proves that seeing is not simply a matter of eyesight.

There is a state of hypnotism in which a person becomes so dissociated from his outer consciousness that he ceases to breathe, his heart ceases to beat and his blood ceases to flow. Strange as it may seem, his senses are more alert in this state than they are when he is outwardly conscious. At such times he becomes intensely aware of anything he wishes his senses to contact. If this state is produced by an operator the subject can contact only that which the operator commands him to contact. But if he is self-hypnotized (a state deliberately reached by yogis and other initiates) he can project his senses and contact the knowledge he seeks. As past, present and future are one spot in eternity—in other words as time, like imagination, does not exist, the senses can be projected into what we call the past as readily as they can be projected into the state we call the future. If a person could stand on one of the stars and look down at the earth he would see (according to the time it takes light to travel) the rowdy court of Henry VIII. We, standing on the earth, would see at the same moment what, is happening, to-day. If time depended upon definite dimension it would be the same at any point of the Universe.

We are surrounded by knowledge which we contact. We do not discover anything. We become attuned to certain knowledge and we contact it. Wireless telegraphy is as old as the world, but Marconi was the first to contact the knowledge of it. Thought which we send out from our minds is nothing new. We have received it from somewhere. When we send it out it reaches its rate of vibration as the wireless waves reach their rate of vibration. Everything is wave-born, either to us or from us. Research in laboratories has proved that short waves can produce fevers and bone diseases in the human body. All substances are made from collections of waves, and every substance has its own form of projection. At present the average person cannot contact the wave which will carry his message; but future generations will laugh at our radio machines placed in their museums, while they, without any apparatus, use the natural means of communication.

The wave does not depend upon the machine. The machine is the substance through which the wave passes. If the human eye and ear are in harmony with the wave they will take the place of the machine. This is simply a physical law in operation—clairvoyance.

The nervous system is energized by outside waves and not by the body. The body (we can liken it to the radio machine) furnishes substance called nerves into which outside energy flows. Medical science will learn some time that it is useless to treat the nerves through the body. Nerves are inert until played upon by vibrations from without. They have their own separate consciousness. If this were not so they would be under the control of the ego. Pathological unconsciousness and hysterical paralysis prove that the nerves work by themselves and not under the direction of the ego.

Plants can be excited, depressed, poisoned or revived by the use of drugs. This shows that plants have sensitive response to outside stimuli. The only difference between man and minerals and vegetables is in the manifestation of consciousness.

The clairvoyant is not troubled by his nerves. By his will he projects his senses until he contacts the knowledge he is seeking, whether it is the knowledge of yesterday, to-day or to-morrow. He knows that death is nature in birth. He knows that there is no death-dealing principle in nature, for nature is life throughout. Death and birth are only the struggles of life to manifest in various forms. Death is only an introduction to another life on earth, and if the new life is not a better one than the old we have only ourselves to blame. Could we extend our vision over the whole history of our previous existences it would then be evident that no portion of it was purposeless. And governments desolated by war or prostrate in an unequal struggle might have been peaceful had their rulers heeded the former call of duty and not blindly followed the tumult of their own passions.

Energy

Electricity is the extreme outer energy of an invisible force which operates everything in the universe. We have made some progress with the slight energy which we have captured from this greatest of all forces. It has made the world habitable for millions of years because of its heat-producing quality. In various potency it could fight all our battles; it could annihilate a continent in a moment, or it could light and heat and do all the work of a continent. To understand the “mystery” of life we must study the force which surrounds us. With it we shall learn the nature of other planets. Directing telescopes to Mars and other planets is like trying to see what is happening in a house by looking down the street it is in.

Our evolution depends upon sustenance and susceptibility. Morality has nothing to do with it. At present we live on decaying substance. We have no article of food (except honey) which, if we did not consume it, would not decay. To maintain life we allow matter to decay in our bodies. In the distant future we shall nourish ourselves with energy. When our present organs become useless they will disappear. At present we can think of our nourishment only in terms of chewing, swallowing and digesting; but our form will change (as forms have always changed) when we conserve energy which is not yielded from decaying matter. Susceptibility is the keynote of life, and not resistance, as certain religions teach. Only by becoming receptive (being wilfully susceptible) can we contact the surrounding energy which makes for soul progress.

The fish in the sea does not know that he is surrounded by land and by life on the land which could not live in his element, the sea. In the same way we are surrounded by other elements, by other rates of energy, of which we, as yet, have no knowledge. This surrounding life may be conscious of us as we are conscious of the fish. It may even angle for us as we angle for the fish. As we, unlike the fish, are developing through the intellect, we should be able in some distant day to understand this energy which surrounds us.

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President Roosevelt

I have made, from President Roosevelt’s name and birthdate symbols, three reconstructions of his former existences. These reconstructions by no means complete the sequence of his progress.

His personality has changed but little in his various earthly appearances. He has always inspired love or hatred, never indifference. He has met with great successes and great failures; and his mind has constantly inclined to reform of one sort or another. Popularity follows him even when he would shun it. He will spring several surprises yet before his term of office is ended.

Most people know the surface qualities of Franklin Roosevelt—his untiring energy, his stubbornness, his fondness of experiment and his love of reform. Few people know that he prefers a quiet, introspective life where he could make his experiments without the world looking on, that he possesses the quality of the martyr—until he is aroused to action. Once roused to action this man acquires a dynamic force which enables him to stand alone against all opposition. Right or wrong, he will buckle on his armour to fight for the cause in which he believes. Complete victory seldom accompanies his efforts, for few men have had to encounter such thwarting of purpose, such loss of credit, such disappointment arising from misplaced confidence. It is true that he overreaches in his desire to alter existing order (sometimes when the existing orders are better than those he wishes to propose), but it is also true that the world could benefit by certain reforms he wishes to make. “Tradition” is a word which has no place in his vocabulary. This desire to exchange old forms for the new has brought down a shower of criticism on his head.

I have heard him compared to many great men in history—from the old Romans to Napoleon. Only in one way does he resemble Napoleon—the hour of his birth has also been disputed.

I set up his symbols for the 30th of January, 1882, and I find that he was previously in America with the “Indians.” Many people, especially those interested in spiritualism, look upon the American Indian as a noble creature well versed in occult science. This is because his religion is founded on legends and on the practice of magic. A strange romance has been built up around the Indian. In the first place he is not an Indian. Columbus named the aborigines he found in America “Indians” because he believed that he had found a short route to India. His mistake caused his ruin, but the name Indian is still used to describe the aborigines of America, and the real Indians, in consequence, are called Hindus or East Indians.

His latitude symbols place Mr. Roosevelt east of the Mississippi River. This would have put him with one of the Totem or great tribes. These tribes east of the Mississippi were divided into clans. Each clan had its emblem, consisting of a bird, beast or serpent—and each clan was distinguished by the name of its animal. Mr. Roosevelt’s symbols indicate the Wolf as his emblem. This places him high in rank, as the Bear, Tortoise and Wolf were the great three. All the members of his clan would have been bound to him by the closest ties of fraternity. Those members of his clan are his friends to-day. They are among the men who see eye to eye with his reforms.

He has always been one of a group always accepted service as his lot while longing for personal freedom. Certain enemies he has met in this life (he has a large number) have belonged to clans opposed to the Wolf. Now, as then, he is the victim of party rather than individual opposition.

Tracing his characteristics from his symbols, it is probable that he belonged to the Tribe Hodenosaunee, which the French were to call the Iroquois. This tribe was foremost in war, in eloquence and in government policy. These gifts, eloquence (lacking to-day) and the ability for handling political situations, belonged to Mr. Roosevelt at that time. He was courageous, an emotional speaker, and he held the position of chief in his clan. At some very early period the Iroquois must have formed an individual nation, so able was their administrative policy.

To say that the early Indian was a weak character, easily influenced by white people, is a mistake. The Indian was a military genius. The approved tactics of to-day are those the white man learned from the Indian at great cost. The Indian understood the essentials of discipline and the necessity for personal initiative. A chief had to understand personal initiative. Mr. Roosevelt has always known how to apply it.

As for finding and using cover, what the white man learned from the Indian enabled him to stay in America. This lesson, learned when he was an Indian, has never been forgotten by Mr. Roosevelt.

His symbols indicate that he was a warrior to the last, and his cruelty was equal to that demanded by his tribe. Perhaps I should not call it cruelty. It was not so much cruelty as a sheer delight in pain. Torment fascinated the Indian and he often inflicted pain and torture upon himself. Mr. Roosevelt’s present infliction upon himself of useless risks is a carry-over from the infliction of pain in his previous existence. The indifference the Indian could pretend when bearing pain manifests itself to-day in Mr. Roosevelt’s disregard for the opinion of those who oppose him.

The Indian was a strange mixture of good and bad impulses. Much truth and much falsehood have been written about him, but the real Indian hovered somewhere between the sublime and the ridiculous.

Mr. Roosevelt, the then Indian chief, was married to a woman of another clan, as the clans were not permitted to intermarry. Thus a member of the Wolf clan could not marry a Wolf.

The wife of his Indian days was not the wife who has made a name for herself independent of her husband’s position; who can successfully conduct a school and a furniture business; who can write books, deliver lectures, discuss politics and broadcast at the microphone. His Indian wife waited upon her brave and brought up his children.

Descent, as in ancient Egypt, was through the female line. What the chief had of this world’s goods would have passed to his sister’s son.

He predeceased his Indian wife by eight years. His children survived and assumed important positions.

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With an earlier birth symbol I still find Mr. Roosevelt in North America. He has an affinity with that Continent.

Ascending the hills and mountains of Mexico through the regions the Spaniards call the tierra caliente and the tierra templada one comes to an immense tableland. It is here the symbols indicate that Mr. Roosevelt once lived. This tableland was then called the plains of Anahuac, for the Aztecs had not yet arrived. Five lakes were distributed over the plain. Round the margin of these lakes stood numerous cities. On an island in the centre of the largest lake stood the city of Mexico; but it was then called Tenochtitlan. On the margin of another lake stood the city of Tezcuco, which was the capital of the Acolhuans, the people who preceded the Aztecs.

In this city of Tezcuco I find Mr. Roosevelt. He was then an Acolhuan.

Tezcuco was a fair city, buzzing with life and gaiety and engaged in an extensive commerce. Its citizens had reached a high degree of civilization. They were skilled in the finer arts and they possessed a literature of a high order. They were a self-sufficient people, wisely furthering the habit of peace. They might have been called the Athenians of the new world.

One of their most celebrated sovereigns was called Nezahualcoyotl. From the array of royal symbols which I encounter in Mr. Roosevelt’s set I am convinced that he was this ruler, in whose brilliant mind originated the scheme for the confederacy between all the cities which stood on the margin of the Lakes. Again he was trying to unify the factors of opposition. It is indicated that certain of the cities did not care to join the confederacy. It is also indicated that he never hesitated until he had overcome all opposition. His royal position forced the hands of his enemies, who, reluctantly in some cases, gave in.

He divided his time between governing and a lively interest in his gods. The Acolhuans worshipped many gods, but their religion called for neither sacrifices nor propitiations. Mr. Roosevelt has always had an intellectual (rather than emotional) interest in religion. I would go so far as to say that his introspective and reflective nature has certain leanings towards the monastic life while making a necessary display of energetic resistance to such.

His conjugal symbols are very disturbed in his Mexican life. His wife was a strong-minded and very independent woman who could easily have been called domineering. Divorce was unknown in Tezcuco, or he might have applied for it. Tragedy is evident in his wife’s passing, which must have been caused by an accident.

Women flit in and out of his life after her demise, but not one of them affected him very deeply. He gave his mind and his energy to his confederacy, to the dissemination of knowledge and to welfare movements. He put down the practice of black magic in each of the cities which he brought into the confederacy. This fight against magic still slumbers in his essential self, as does his method of handling opposition. Like smoke curling from an incense pot, a mist arises from the urn of his memory. It blinds him at times and obscures what is happening about him. When he sees clearly again he does not know that an urge from the past has been operating; that it was responsible for his success or his failure.

Like all dictators, his programme in Mexico simply served the period for which it was due. He closed his eyes on his beloved confederacy when he was sixty-eight years of age.

Hot on his heels came the Aztecs, with their materialistic philosophy. If the Tezcucans were the Greeks of the new world, the Aztecs were the Romans. The Tezcucans had descended, through Reincarnation, from the old civilizations of Maya, and they possessed the culture of that ancient race. The present Mexicans, who have pounded their swords and bayonets into ploughshares for the peons, belong also, through karmic descent, to the Tezcucans. The Government which has now given the vote to women once belonged to Nezahualcoyotl’s confederacy. Looking forward I cannot see Mr. Roosevelt returning to Mexico, but karmic debt continues to bring him to other parts of North America.

*  *  *

Another arrangement of the symbols and Mr. Roosevelt is in China. It is 550 B.C. The great sage Kong-fu-tse, whom the Romans called Confucius, was re-establishing the old institutions; for, as he said, “I but scatter, like a tiller, the seed which I have received, unchanged, upon the earth.

Mr. Roosevelt’s conflict with tradition must have stood out strangely from the peaceful background of the Chinese character. There are always exceptions to existing conditions, and Mr. Roosevelt was an exception. His love of reform got him into considerable trouble in China. It cannot be said that he acquired enemies, for the Chinese do not waste their time on enmity, but, as usual, he met with opposition.

Uniformity has always been the watchword of China. Chinese character is stamped with the inevitable. It has the power to transform into its own substance all foreign matter. No conqueror has ever changed the life of the Chinese people; no conqueror ever will. The Chinese care nothing for political systems; they have no regard for historical values or for modern appliances. They think of change as temporary interference with the natural course of life. Their history records no developments. What is known as progress finds no favour with them. Their laws are eternal, immutable; only the planets in their courses can be compared to them. Each nation has its own rate of vibration. China’s vibratory motion has never been interfered with by extraneous influences. Would-be conquerors have tried many times to change it, but China is the changeless, the eternal land. The Chinese ghost Tradition wanders over the entire country, and no exorcist will every lay it.

The ancient Chinese believed that a sage was born to advise every Hwang-ti, or “August Emperor.” The ruler governed the people while the sage assisted and advised him, and with him taught the Chinese their lessons of truth and duty.

Judging by his symbols, Mr. Roosevelt must have been at one time adviser to the Emperor Ling of the third dynasty. His latitude symbols place him in Chung-tu, the province which was governed by Confucius. By teaching the people of his state the ancient laws Confucius wrought a marvellous reformation in their manners. He strengthened the ruling house, but weakened the position of ministers and chiefs—and possibly of the sage. In many ways Mr. Roosevelt must have come to grips with him. Being the advising sage Mr. Roosevelt was a favourite of the Emperor. Being a great teacher Confucius was also a favourite of the Emperor. Being weak himself the Emperor did not interfere between these two, but left them to their own disputes.

Confucius had been appointed minister of works of his state and later minister of crime. In these two departments he governed through the medium of the ancient laws. The sage, on the other hand, wanted to annihilate the old order and to establish the new. He could almost be compared to the Emperor of the fourth dynasty, the T’sin, who vainly ordered the burning of old records and the obliteration of antiquity—only to know himself frustrated by the discovery of the books of Confucius. So conceited was this Emperor that he wished nothing to stand which had existed before his time. No such reason urged Mr. Roosevelt to oppose the teachings of Confucius. He actually believed that the conditions of the people would be advanced by his reforms. So determined was he to control the situation that he landed himself in exile for six years. There was no persecution attached to his punishment. He was simply removed because he was considered dangerous to the community.

During his exile his mind turned to literature. No doubt he distributed writings denouncing tradition and advancing his ideas. Something in the nature of a magazine was written and distributed at an early age in China. The “Forest of Pencils,” or Grand Academy of Literature, would not have recognized the sage’s encouragement of reform, but it is indicated that through his writings the sage was released by the Emperor and he returned to Chung-tu. It is possible that the Emperor considered some of the sage’s ideas of reform, but if he intended to adopt any of them he must have been overruled by Confucius.

The sage was still young when he returned to his native state. The disciples of Confucius were against him, while the ruling party looked upon him as a visionary who could do no lasting harm. Once more it was group against group. The ruling party was very short-sighted, however, for this man must always be reckoned with. Whichever direction his power takes, it is power, and it is unwise to ignore it. To prove the fallacy of the judgment of the ruling party he got the ear of the army, the men who make the “extreme sacrifice,” and it is indicated that his influence with them must, for a time, have been considerable.

His wife was the conventional Chinese woman—on the surface. The women of China have never accepted that place under the masculine thumb which the West believes they occupy. The Chinese woman knows what she wants and in some way (by intrigue if necessary) she obtains it. To all outward appearances the sage’s wife was the dainty woman with bound feet, with well-oiled hair decorated with flowers, who, with true celestial dignity, accepted the services of slaves. Leaning upon the arms of her attendants for support, she would probably have gossiped with her friends in some room, detached from the rest of the house, where graceful coral-vines ran up the walls, dodging pictures made of kingfisher feathers. The room would have been sparsely furnished. A brass-cornered, jade-handled chest and her red-lacquered chair might have been all it contained—unless we count the grace produced when overcrowding is absent; for China has never suffered from space-phobia.

The sage had concubines too, but they denoted his prestige rather than his passion. Five children are indicated. They were his wife’s children, not the children of his concubines. The age had not arrived when a man recognized his offspring by the jade ornament they wore.

Towards the end of his Chinese existence the sage either accepted the teachings of his rival or he followed the pathway to peace, for I find him living quietly in his garden, where the fragrant tea-plant blooms and the silkworm spins his precious threads. His flaming spirit was only resting, however. It will never be extinguished until it leaves its rounds of incarnations. With stubbornness and belief in the work he has set himself he will continue to contract karmic debts and rewards.

What the soul of the sage has taken out of China is an intense love of the people. As he watches their fate at present he needs firmness and more firmness. He needs the strength to make demands and to back them up with the old force which tolerates no half-measures.

The man he is to-day, the American Indian, the Acolhuan and the Chinese sage are one and the same.

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Weekly Reconstructions

The following weekly reconstructions are made from the symbols for each week. Naturally they cannot describe the personal lives of readers, as the name symbols of each individual are necessary for such calculation; but they denote the country and the prevailing conditions of one previous incarnation—according to the week in which readers’ birthdays occur.

## January

The symbol of the first week of January is the Ram’s Horn. This symbol denotes a mixture of high ideals and materialistic philosophy. It gives the knack of producing a happy blend from the extremes in the nature. It bestows honour, the love of knowledge and sometimes wealth. It draws to itself the criticism of others. Commerce should appeal to the people of this symbol, as it deals with the romance of trade.

Placed with the latitude symbols, it indicates that people born at this time spent their previous existence in mediaeval England during the reigns of Henry VIII or of Elizabeth. They would have been in trade unless their name and year symbols denote different circumstances. In any case, even if the royal symbol or the symbol of distinction is indicated by their names or years, the symbol of this, their week, must be taken into consideration.

The Ram’s Horn is a symbol of the wool trade, and we all know that the wealth of England was founded upon wool. The merchants of the staple were the real knights of mediaeval England. The kings looked to them for their revenue. The crown borrowed money from the wealthy traders in wool, and wool was the security offered when money was borrowed to further the interests of commerce. England has never forgotten that her prosperity rests on wool; so eager is she to pay homage to the fleece that she has placed a sack of wool in the House of Lords, and when Parliament is in full session the Lord Chancellor can be seen seated on this sack of wool. Even when cotton and iron crowded wool out of the industrial scheme of things, wool remained the symbol of England’s prosperity. Trade companies were formed to protect the shipping of it with their lives, for in the days of the fifteenth century the pirate and the brigand went their adventurous ways seeking any loot available.

Because of their wealth the wool merchants arranged the destinies of English towns. Bearing the staple before them they dictated to the money-lenders, the builders and the mayors of the provincial ports.

The knights of the golden fleece were a merry lot who drank neither tea nor coffee, for beer and wine were obtainable by all classes. Food was eaten with an abandon never again approximated. Gluttony was an art practised alike by the noble lord, his lady and the meanest varlet of his establishment. The gentle damsel of those days could attack the half of a chicken, a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine as easily as her modern slimming descendant consumes a grapefruit and a leaf of lettuce. Sprightliness was the keynote of love, and affairs were tossed off as merrily as wine was drunk. Letters full of a savage old poetry were written to loved ones—letters of most original spelling and entirely devoid of punctuation, but possessing a punch and go which we cannot capture to-day.

The trades of the Middle Ages had their symbols or “brasses.” Each trade had its own brass. Some of the brasses of the wool trade are still to be seen in the parish churches of the wool-growing districts of England. Sometimes a brass shows a man with his arm around a sheep or his foot on a wool-sack. Unlike the lion, the horse and the stag, the sheep has not meandered into heraldry; but he has his place on the old brasses denoting a once prosperous and romantic day. Some of the holders of this symbol who gaze at these ancient brasses may not know that once they represented their status before the world.

Most of the family trees wither from neglect; but even if they were cherished and families could pursue their “ancestors” back to the brasses, they would not be able to waylay the soul, that reincarnates where it needs to gather the experiences necessary for its development. Physical descent has nothing to do with spiritual descent, and the soul who once saw the brass above his door may have no connection whatever with the person who to-day looks up at his “ancestor’s” brass in some ancient provincial parish church.

Not all the people born during the first week of January can look back to the wool trade, but in most cases they can look back to trade of some sort. Men were in trade, their families were merchants, and women of this sign usually married men engaged in some industry.

People who were born this week should not condemn the child marriage of India, for some of them in their mediaeval life would have been betrothed when they were in their cradles. This would have been done for property reasons or to settle some family feud.

Fortunately the Church would have allowed them to repudiate such a contract when they came of age—between twelve and fourteen. Certain women of this symbol might have been the unfortunate little girls who were sold to the highest bidder. Humour and pathos met in the bribes offered for some of them, and perhaps they agreed to marry some silly boy for a dish of apples or for meat with their supper. Looking back at the good old days there is nothing which so separates us of to-day from the days of Henry VIII as certain of the marriage laws.

Naturally there were people who turned their backs on trade and entered the religious Orders, but the background of that time was trade, and nothing so clearly depicts it as the symbol of the Ram’s Horn.

*  *  *

The weekly symbol which has certain bearing on the destiny of persons born between the 8th and the 14th of January is the Hawk staring at the Sun. The people of this sign are not happy in subordinate positions. While their motive is not exactly self-interest, they must dominate a situation. They know how to get things done and they have a talent for justice. Flattery may disturb their sense of values, for they are inclined to overlook the shortcomings of a flatterer. Admiration is the breath of life to them, but they will never admit this. They have physical courage and frequently the courage of their convictions. This sign offers opportunities and denotes restlessness.

Like the previous sign, it indicates England as the former birthplace of its holders. They knew the chaotic days which followed the arrival of the Norman rulers. They knew that soon after Stephen had hurried over from Normandy he had met a very powerful enemy in the person of Robert Earl of Gloucester, the illegitimate son of Henry I, who held the fortress at Bristol. Robert was not the only enemy of the king. He had many followers, some of them holding this symbol, who became the king’s enemies. The king was very quarrelsome, and soon after his arrival he arrayed the entire power of the clergy against his reign by a quarrel with the Bishop of Salisbury.

This symbol indicates certain social orders, and the persons whose weekly symbol it now is would have been barons, wealthy landowners, or members of the clergy in their former existence. There is one thing it always denotes—the objection to being ruled. Russia was under this symbol when she decided upon communism, but it has now passed out of her “set-up.” In less than three years she will be one of the most capitalistic nations in the world.

Many of the people who were born under this sign in their present existence were in their former lives engaged in creating revolutions. When the realm fell into anarchy they burnt and pillaged to their hearts’ content. They did anything to help on the work of destruction if it could add to their possessions. In spite of the strenuous life they led they possessed a certain diplomacy rather rare in that age. They could keep their own council much better than they do to-day. They knew how to plan their moves well in advance (this trait is still operating) and they were seldom taken off their guard.

When Stephen had become thoroughly unpopular Matilda arrived in England and took him prisoner. She was then declared, queen; but her greed so disgusted the holders of this symbol that they diverted their enmity from the king and rose against Matilda. It is obvious that the life they led generated a tremendous karmic debt. They are paying this debt in their present existence. Some are paying it willingly, others are constantly at war with what they call Fate. These people have no end of inner power, which they are releasing in business, religion and sometimes in hypnotism. They have one characteristic which, properly directed, can lead them on to triumph—fearlessness.

*  *  *

The symbol which operates from the 15th until the 21st of January is the Lone Wolf emerging from a Forest. Persons holding this symbol are equipped with knowledge gained in a past life. They can read character and usually “see through” people. They are reserved, introspective and ambitious. They love power and secretly they try to acquire it. They can afford to rely upon their intuition. Enemies are suddenly disarmed by them. Work demanding close routine has no terror for them; but they must see improvement in whatever they are doing. Self-restraint is often indicated by this symbol.

It places its wearers in India in their previous existence. They could have been found in the Punjab about 300 years before our present era. A Hindu king, Chandra Gupta (the grandfather of the famous Asoka), was reigning at that time. This Chandra Gupta is the same person whom the Greeks called Sandracottus. He was the son of one of the petty chiefs of the Punjab; but he was a man mightily to be envied by the people of his day. He succeeded in expelling Alexander the Great from India and in destroying the Macedonian garrisons.

He fixed the seat of his government at Pataliputra, now called Patna. He was the Mussolini of his time. So great became his renown that ambassadors were sent to his court from all parts of the world. Such an illustrious person would have maintained many officials and government servants. People whose birth occurs during this week could have been government servants or wives of government servants at that time.

Many of them would have been Greeks who threw in their lot with the Indians and became citizens of Chandra Gupta’s country—at any rate to all surface appearances. In many cases there must have slumbered in their hearts the love of Greece and of the Greek people. Something which looks very much like spying and the giving of secret information to the Greeks is indicated by this symbol. The love of worldly position seems to have been offset by idealism and by strong religious inclinations.

This symbol is also connected with metals. Those now bearing it might have superintended the craftsmen who made the medals which decorated the gods. These medals and the sculptures are the only relics we now have of the period in which the holders of the Lone Wolf symbol lived. The Scythians who wiped out the Greek kingdoms left nothing of the Greek art. People of this symbol might also have instructed the idol makers, but whether they taught them to fashion the Greek Athena or the Indian Siva it is impossible to say.

The women who lived in Chandra Gupta’s country would have occupied rather a degraded position judged by the present standards. Their mission would have been to give their husbands sons and to look after the servants. They would have been permitted, Indian fashion, to eat the food their husbands did not want. This state of things would not have made them unhappy at that time, for they would have demanded no better treatment. A woman who had given her husband a son to light his funeral pyre (the Indian son lights his father’s funeral pyre) would have been honoured in the community. Fundamental human nature was the same then as it is to-day, and no doubt many women, especially those who were Greek by birth, tolerated their husbands for financial and family reasons.

This symbol does not bring happiness in the conjugal state until it has progressed through many experiences, but as it is the habit of bearers of it quickly to disarm their enemies, they clear the ground by disclosing their opponents’ methods. This trait enables them to progress very rapidly.

*  *  *

The symbol which operates from the 22nd until the 28th of January is a Man Driving a Galloping Horse. It denotes tremendous energy and ambition. Holders of it are tenacious and bold, but they seldom consider results in advance. They dislike convention and restriction and seldom pay sufficient attention to their possessions. They are inclined to put their mistakes down to some misfortune over which they have no control. They love ardently and often they are very generous. Women of this symbol are apt to dominate their partners in marriage. Both the men and the women of this sign should try to express caution in their lives.

In a previous existence they lived in Rome, in the time of Nero. It was a lavish age. Lavishness was exhibited in every phase of life, from art and literature to cruelty. The mission of Rome was to make conquests, to govern. Might took precedence over everything. To such a height did it soar that races had to be born to overcome it with citizenship and regard for the family. The titles of Roman and Roman matron were almost equal to the titles of king and queen. Rome wore her importance as a brazen shield. This shield is bound to tarnish with the passing of time. The nations which burnish it to-day are soon to discover this fact. With savage effrontery Rome seduced everything. Not satisfied with her own gods of thunder and force she admitted the gods of conquered peoples into her scheme of things as she trod her conquering way. She invoked their protection when she approached the nations she meant to subdue. Once she forgot her system. It was at the walls of Jerusalem. The gods of Israel entered her temples unbidden—and remained there. Roman signs and omens had no significance in Jerusalem, where a greater Divinity commanded.

The holders of this week’s symbol came from every walk of life in Rome. Some of them were patricians, others were plebs. Still others were slaves who could be sold by the paterfamilias. In spite of their status all imbibed the Roman spirit, whose seed blooms to-day in self-esteem.

Certain students of Reincarnation insist that the Romans have reincarnated in England. But no people reincarnate en masse. Each soul gravitates to the place where it can learn the lessons necessary for its development. The men who are now building the skyscrapers once built the pyramids, but there is no reason to suppose that all the Egyptians have reincarnated in America. English people have many of the Roman qualities, especially self-esteem and the appreciation of their own importance; but they are learning that Might is not the conquering hero.

After the conquest of nations and of gods Rome conquered women—but the conquered reconquered in their turn, for Cato, expressing the conditions of his day, said: “Everywhere else women are ruled by men, but we, who rule all men, are ruled by women.” This fact is still true with the holders of this symbol. The women dominate the men in affairs of the heart and frequently in business transactions. This is sometimes done with force. Again, it is done with such subtlety that it passes almost unnoticed.

The daily life in Rome was a brilliant pageant. The city had been completely hellenized. Beauty had its place in the Imperial splendour. There were wide streets and gracious temples, green terraces sloping back from the river on which galleys passed, charming villas with bronze doors, theatres in which the populace could shout their approval or roar their contempt, arenas in which bored rulers could watch the people die, circuses, races, games and sacred groves.

The patricians and the people would descend upon all this beauty and gaiety to watch the spoils of triumphant wars flash through the streets and pass into the Forum, which was curtained with silk. At times war gave place to lust cleverly disguised as love. At other times love gave place to war needing no disguise.

Rome took the best that others had, but she created little. Men of genius appeared occasionally, but the voluptuaries in power did not appreciate them.

The Galloping Horse, which is this symbol, can be forced into a walk and it can be encouraged to seek cover while it observes what is passing on the road of life.

The women holding this sign would have been subjected to Lycurgian laws in Rome—if they were women then. Sex is not important to a soul seeking incarnation. Little heeding, it inhabits the body of man or woman—whichever body can more readily obtain for it the experiences it needs. The women—if they were women in Rome—would have placed their honour above everything; for to have forfeited it would have been a disgrace to the state. They could have repudiated any indictment—but this might have meant for them the antique livery of shame replacing the purple border on their robes. The Roman woman worshipped honour as the Greek woman worshipped beauty. A certain austere purity is still a marked characteristic of the women who hold this symbol. Rome, in spite of her lavishness, rested upon a state purity.

When expiring Greece threw her art into Rome and Asia dumped into the state her bizarre riches, the Roman, like all puritans, was bewildered. Luxury went to his head and undermined his character. Only ease and luxury annihilate the puritan. History has taught that it is necessary to be born into luxury and ease properly to ignore their influence. People who have these thrust upon them see only their allure and nothing of their snare. This is true of holders of this symbol. They should cultivate moderation, poise and the value of indifference to appearances.

*  *  *

The symbol for the week the 29th of January to the 4th of February is the Triangle above the Circle. Were this symbol reversed and the circle appeared above the triangle it would indicate an older soul, one who had made greater progress. The circle means completion, and when it appears alone or forms the upper part of a symbol, it denotes one who has learned most of the lessons which this planet can teach him. The circle is prominent in the set-up of reformers, inventors and certain geniuses.

The Triangle above the Circle indicates two distinct characters. One is an optimist, for ever over-reaching and believing that some good luck will come his way. The other is interested in the passing moment, caring little what may happen in the future. Both characters find it difficult to adjust themselves to conditions as they are. They are inclined to seek the unusual. Love does not play a very important part in their lives. Marriage is sometimes contracted to better material conditions. These people like to do business on a large scale. They detest routine. Many holders of the sign are speculators who frequently encounter disastrous results. All belonging to this dual symbol should cultivate restraint and pray for foresight.

These people lived in England in their previous existence when this country was constantly disturbed by the arrival of the Saxon chiefs. The Britons, to which people they belonged, were ever on the alert, hoping to protect their property and their ships from the Saxon invaders.

Cissa, the Saxon chief, had landed on the south coast, and had renamed the old Roman city of Regnum Cissacaestra, after himself. The place is now called Chichester, and many of the holders of this symbol lived in or near Chichester in their former incarnations. Others lived in Norfolk, but the present appearance of this county could give them no idea of its aspect when they lived there. Breydon Water was then an estuary, and it received the waters of three rivers: the Yare, Bure and the Waveney. This estuary was then called Garienis Ostium. Where green fields now stretch in the vicinity of Yarmouth and Reedham, the sea once encroached, and large ships could sail inland as far as St. Olaves.

It was the day of pirates and highwaymen, devil-may-care rowdies, looters and laughing troubadours. Man fought man in direct combat, refusing to give in until both were disabled. Peace and security had not yet come to England, but there was mirth and adventure and love. Young bloods lay in wait for the Spanish Silver Fleet which carried gold and jewels from the West Indies to Spain—for piracy was a gentleman’s game.

Many who come under this symbol were landowners. That they acquired their property by honest means is not too clearly indicated. Others were attracted by the study and practice of law, for something which we call law has flourished in every age. State affairs at that time were discussed at general assemblies—discussed and discussed and discussed. The people were not interested in settling tilings by discussion—only in discussion for its own sake. Conditions change slowly. Discussion is still one of our indoor sports.

In the England I am describing affairs of minor importance were dealt with by magistrates.

Men and women who succeeded in covering their tracks thought little of any crime they had committed. If no penalty was enforced their attention was attracted by what next they could do to disturb the tenor of existence, and possibly to feather their nests with soft linings. Is it any wonder they came into their present existence bearing the symbol which denotes interest only in the passing moment? It is only natural that they find adjustment to existing conditions difficult. Their saving grace is their love of the unusual. This inclination, when rightly directed, produces the inventors, the people who discover cures for baffling diseases, explorers, and archaeologists who rewrite history.

February

From the 5th of February until the 11th the symbol is the Looped Rope. It denotes people who are all things to all men. They appear to be unemotional—but the contrary is true. War is constantly waging in their personality between one emotion and another. Some holders of this symbol are extremely brilliant. These brilliant ones try to impose their wishes upon the minds of others. Others holding this symbol are tyrants in the home while not appearing to be unkind. These people seldom show their hand in advance in business matters. Any business or profession could be undertaken by them, as their minds are so alert and their grasp of things so rapid. They have a sense of humour, a ready wit and charm enough to pull them through almost any situation. Usually they possess a strange magnetism which draws to them whatever they seek. They should remember this and govern their desires accordingly.

In a previous existence they were in Switzerland with the Helvetians during the Roman occupation. The Helvetians were a people (a collection of tribes) who defended themselves against the Romans when these conquerors first tried to occupy Switzerland. They were a hardy, untameable people who gave the Romans considerable trouble before they were flattered (people of this symbol find it difficult to resist flattery) by the Romans with the title of allies. This title has always been precarious, and frequently it has meant little but the subjection of the people to whom it was given.

Soon after the Romans arrived in Switzerland the condition of the Helvetians was much the same as it is to-day when a powerful country holds a weaker country in its dominion. All the good positions were given to Roman soldiers and the Helvetians were little better than slaves.

This position could not last with the bearers of this symbol. They slew the Romans and havoc reigned in the country. The Roman Emperor ordered some of the Helvetian envoys to appear before him and to explain the reason for the revolution. These chosen men expressed the characteristics of this symbol. There are few cases in history where such magnetism has been displayed.

Standing before the Emperor Vitellius, listening to the muttered curses of the Roman soldiers, they made no attempt to excuse the action of their people. They depicted the condition of their country in such hues of misery that the soldiers themselves took part in supplicating mercy for Helvetia. The country was degraded; it was no longer an ally of Rome, but it was permitted to form an alliance with the Province of Gaul. This was, in the circumstances, a supreme victory, considering that Vitellius wanted the total extirpation of a race which had dared to lay hands on Roman warriors.

Always in the previous existence holders of this symbol made their way with their eloquence and their magnetic qualities. To-day they are less eloquent and they have a greater regard for truth; but it must still be said that if they find themselves in a tight corner they become artists in explanation. There are few things these people cannot explain—to others’ and often to their own satisfaction.

There must be something about the atmosphere of Lake Geneva which produces the love of oratory. That magnetic centre seems still to possess this quality, which flourished there when the holders of this symbol lived in Switzerland.

These Helvetians, who made a great start, finally became the victims of Roman luxury, effeminacy and moral corruption; but degeneracy cannot last. The Burgundians demolished it in Switzerland, together with the property of the Romans. Something always demolishes it and starts a new order of things. Certain foolish people associate decadence with culture. Energy, they say, is expressed by a young race—a crude people trying to fit into the state we call civilization. This might be true if a race came to an end and another race began, but there is neither beginning nor end; for the old race of yesterday is the new race of to-morrow.

People of this symbol should cultivate tolerance. They should study the substance of things. Their marvellous adaptability is a trap. No one can build either his or her personality who is too anxious to appear to please. It makes very little difference what people think of us if we are true to ourselves. Many holders of this symbol have developed a new personality to cope with modern conditions. They realize that the power of words and charm is not enough to obtain for them what they desire in this incarnation. But the traits indicated by this symbol still exist in their soul-memory, and when they express diplomacy or handle some problem in a very clever manner they are prompted by an urge from the past.

*  *  *

The symbol which operates from the 12th of February until the 18th is the Thirty Coins. This symbol denotes a strange mixture of idealism and determination; but holders of it are bent, whatever the cost, upon having their own way. Advice makes no impression on them. They have a probing mind and they investigate conditions for themselves, taking no one’s word until they have examined a situation.

Close friends mean much to them, but they care little for acquaintances. Their business affair are apt to fluctuate, but certain of them acquire wealth or position in late middle life. The female of the species should succeed in politics, as her discernment immediately senses the weak point in a situation. In love the discernment of both sexes is not so good, and they should see to it that a third party does not enter their conjugal relations. Many mediums and people who can be called psychic bear this symbol. In the dim past they practised occult science—sometimes to their souls’ detriment.

Holders of this symbol once lived in Babylonia, but as they also appeared in France in the days of the Revolution I shall mention their French existence.

Napoleon said that before the Revolution all men were in love with liberty. He forgot to mention what the women were in love with. Nothing so expressed Napoleon’s lack of vision as his disregard of the feminine intellect.

The clever brains of Mme. de Stael and Madame Roland could be said to have run the Revolution once it got under way. They gathered men into their salons and worked upon their conceit and their love of power. A keener brain than that of Mme. de Stael has not been encountered in history. She instantly mobilized everyone to her desires. She subjected, appealed, flattered and threatened. Her expert eye saw at once the weak spot in a man’s armour. She used love, passion and a force disguised as surrender to gain her point. She stopped at nothing. She got the control of her father’s (Necker’s) newspapers to launch her ideas, her wit and her venom on the Revolution.

Her father, by the manipulation of money, was terrorizing Louis and Marie Antoinette. The court reeled under his dictation. While he controlled the money his daughter controlled the new class which had suddenly come into power—the financiers, the bankers and the money-lenders. The tactics of the jungle expressed in the blood-lust which swept France was really a battle for the supremacy of money. In this respect it was not unlike the battles which have followed it. Battles are always started by the minority, and when later they flame like fire, people forget what kindled them. Heads of the new state and the older Church clasped hands in the Revolution—and a great woman managed their publicity in her newspapers.

Madame Roland was a puritan. She used her puritanism for the same purpose for which Mme. de Stael used her passionate indulgence. Both appealed equally to the emotions of men and both drew to their standards a host of followers. Madame Roland was like nature, she cared nothing for individuals. The unit meant everything to her. She wasted no time in single conversations or in love. She stood up before the multitude and forced it on to victory. Her courage was colossal. When she could not infuse people with it, she shamed them with it. She taught her people how to five and how to die. She never loved anyone, but she loved her idea of liberty. There was no red blood in her liberty. It was a magnificent abstraction, but it appealed to the men of France—for it they fought and bled, and conquered for a time. But liberty will never endure until it is founded on reason and truth, and these props we have not yet placed at its foundation.

Like Napoleon, the men of to-day are inclined to ignore the intellect of the women who hold this symbol. These women do not stand before the people to-day shouting for their cause, whatever it may be. They do not try to snare the emotions of men or play upon their affections. They are more subtle than they were in previous existences. They value their intuition, which is of a high order, and they use it to gain their point. They have a sort of sixth sense which warns them of other people’s intentions. They are mind-readers and sometimes hypnotists. Many of them are studying occult science. They are the people of the new age. They know that the gods of yesterday have lost their power, and they are quietly preparing a place for themselves in the future. They will win again, as they have in the past—but with other methods, and for saner reasons.

The men of this symbol are still led by greater brains than themselves, but they are not conscious of this fact. They are inclined to be stubborn and not easily impressed; but in spite of all this they are led. They neither ask nor receive advice and they would resist or ignore any obvious authority, but they are easy prey for the quiet, subtle person who never discusses what he is doing. In the past they were interested in politics and in law as professions; but they lacked the fanatical ardency which proclaims the successful politician and the power of deduction which is essential to the legal mind.

In their present existence they are inclined to be interested in electricity, in aviation, in certain kinds of reform, in journalism and in the luxury trades. As there are exceptions to every symbol, as to every rule, some of the holders of this one are dreamers who live in a world of their own designing. These dreamers frequently “make good” in some unusual occupation.

*  *  *

For the week beginning on the 19th of February and ending on the 25th of February the symbol is the Saint’s Tomb. It belongs to people who usually “get away with things.” What they do or say to others is seldom held against them; but be it to their credit they never wilfully hurt anyone. They are apt to be careless and sometimes they are quite reckless. In the midst of the most appalling circumstances they remain hopeful. Their good qualities outweigh their faults. They are sympathetic and generous friends and frequently very intuitive; but they do not always listen to the voice of their intuition. They have a highly developed sense of appreciation and of gratitude. Many of them have some special “gift.” Artists and inventors often hold this symbol. It is one of the symbols of karmic reward, denoting reward in their present existence for good deeds done in the past.

They lived in Japan in the fourth century. This was before the advent of Buddhism. As a matter of fact, Buddhism did not appear for some two hundred years after their birth in Japan. In their day Shinto was the worship of Japan. Shinto means the way of the deities, but actually it is a form of nature worship—the worship of the soil. It still continues, to a certain extent, in Japan.

When the holders of this symbol lived in the Land of the Rising Sun the people were divided into four classes: military, agricultural, artisans and tradesmen. The military class represented the aristocrats of the time. Love of country has always been the first lesson of the Japanese. Many people and certain historians say that the Japanese people are Chinese who migrated to Japan. This is but partly true. The Japanese came from Malaya as well as from China. In temperament they differ greatly from the Chinese.

The former education of people bearing this symbol would have consisted in the learning of myths and legends concerning the gods and the nature spirits. These myths would have been related to them as facts. The women would have been trained in the tea and flower ceremonies. The Chinese was the only literature which Japan possessed for fourteen centuries, so consequently the legends the bearers of this symbol would have studied would have been Chinese. Their worship at the Shinto temples, called miyas would have consisted of prayers and prostrations. Religious merit would have been won by flinging rice into the alms-box, by avoiding any impurities, or the contact of blood, or killing any animal, or coming into contact with a corpse, and by refusing to eat the flesh of any animal except the deer. They would have been instructed in the proper conduct at festivals, concerts or theatrical exhibitions. There would have been one pilgrimage, which all adherents of Shinto would have made at least once a year: the pilgrimage to Idzu, which was the name of the province where the original miya stood, after which all other Shinto temples had been modelled. Most of the temples were simple little wooden buildings bearing a door-plate which announced the name of the kami (god) to whom the temple was consecrated.

Every religion in every nation has expressed itself in the dance. This was especially true of the Shinto. People of this symbol would have been taught to put on their white-cloth face-mask and their embroidered kimonas and to dance before the idols which represented their gods. This dance of the Shinto resembles the No dance of Japan, which in its halting movements must be much the same as was the Greek mask dance. The No and the Shinto are danced to compose the mind and to relate it to spiritual things. Men and women of this symbol would have danced in the little temples which nestled under the cherry blossoms, and they would have made cake offerings to Sui-Getsu, the little god who is seen only by those who understand love. They would have made rice offerings to the stone foxes, the servants of the rice-god. The women would have spent their time in their high-walled gardens with the miniature hills and trees and the tiny bridges which arch their backs over the little artificial streams, lighted at night by stone lamps, moss-green with age.

To see the fruit blossom appear on a plum-tree would have been an event in their lives. They would have watched for it in the rain, a paper umbrella protecting their well-oiled hair, which would have been dressed but once a month.

They would have married when they were fourteen or younger, and they would not have been jealous of their husbands’ other wives, for the wives of the ancient Samurai were friendly with each other, waiting upon their husband in turn and looking after each others’ children. They would have seen no man but their husbands and the male members of their family. The men of this symbol would have associated with their men friends. They would have been kind to their wives, but they would not have dreamt of discussing anything with them.

There had already been a wave of Chinese and Korean immigration into Japan, which brought with it the factors of material civilization. The Japanese learnt the science of canal-cutting and the methods of sericulture and silk-weaving. China is a country which has shown speed in but one direction. She has gone from the canal to the aeroplane without waiting to build roads. But the ancient Chinese taught the early Japanese how to build roads and how to build cities and temples. The Japanese adopted everything without hesitancy. Japan has always been a nation of imitators. But one nation has always imitated another. European nations imitated Greece and Rome until there was nothing left to imitate. Not until the nineteenth century was Japan’s habit of imitation disastrous. It was then the West revealed itself and its civilization. Japan was no longer content to copy the methods of Oriental people. She rushed into the maelstrom of Western politics and practices, believing that unless she mimicked the Western countries she would be at their mercy. By this mimicry she has delayed her development. She was a little too late in putting her trust into physical force. There may still be wars in the world—frightful ones—but physical force is outmoded on this planet. It has had its day. Its message is accomplished.

Holders of this symbol who once lived in Japan are scattered over the world. They look at their former country with condemnation or pity. Her problem is no longer their problem. Japan must learn that she is the divinity which shapes her end. No other nation can live her life for her. The holders of this symbol learned to worship beauty in old Japan. She can teach them nothing to-day which would add to their soul development.

*  *  *

From the 26th of February until the 3rd of March the symbol is the Eagle’s Stone. This is a Hebrew symbol. The ancient Hebrews believed that a stone which an eagle had dropped brought good fortune to the wearer. As a symbol it denotes tremendous inner force which was generated in the past. Holders of it occupied a position of honour and importance in their previous existence, but they failed in their duty and they are still trying to pay the debts they contracted. Their courage will be rewarded in the end (towards the end of their present existence) and their struggle will lessen. Help through friendship usually comes to these people in late middle life—in some cases when they have almost given up hope.

They lived formerly in Jerusalem. The Jerusalem of their day was under Herodian rule. The lax and dissolute Herodians sprang from the Sadducees, and their reign plunged Palestine into degradation and bloodshed. Many of the bearers of this symbol lived during the reign of the most depraved member of this notorious family, known as Herod the Great. Herod was appointed procurator of Judaea by Julius Caesar. After he was displaced by the representative of another Jewish dynasty, he fled to Rome, where the Romans interceded for him and again placed him on the Jewish throne. His reign was undisturbed by foreign wars, but it was stained with cruelties almost without parallel in history. He was destined to disperse the Jewish race and to send it wandering over the face of the earth. His massacre of the children in Bethlehem was quite in keeping with his other activities.

Jerusalem of that day was a city of patriarchs, of priests, of merchants and money-lenders. The city hadn’t changed much since Alexander had approached it. A visitor at that time would have been impressed by the view of Jerusalem seen from the Mount of Olives, by the valley of Jehoshaphat and in the distance the sullen waters of the Dead Sea; but mostly he would have been touched by the wonder of Hebrew patriotism in the city from which the word of God was to go forth to the world.

The holders of this symbol occupied various positions in Jerusalem. Some were interested in art or literature, some in religion, others had Government or palace appointments and many were connected with finance.

Accusations of avarice against the financial Jews were not then heard in Jerusalem. The Jews demanded no interest for the use of money. This, however, did not exempt them from greed and the desire to turn a clever deal. But when has the Jew held a monopoly of greed and cunning?

In Jerusalem at that time the Jew was conspicuous for his ability in business and for his interest in art and literature and in the mysticism of religion. While he engaged in many a stern fight he could claim no notice in war. But turning to the employments of peace his record was a better one. He established schools and taught in them, and he did all he could to encourage learning. His development proceeded on tradition, and while he believed in the freedom of the human will, he also said that all events were predestined; in this way reconciling his cruelty (he could be quite cruel) with prophecy.

Some of the holders of this symbol were military officials having a high position in the army. Many of the atrocities they engaged in were forced upon them by royal order.

Certain bearers of this symbol were austere and monastic in habit, living in seclusion and taking upon themselves vows of charity and chastity, and holding their goods in common. They condemned wedlock and kept up their number by adopting children. They understood healing and offered their services as physicians. Wealthy families, knowing the protection of this order of monks, passed over their children during some of the internal disturbances.

Like all Oriental girls, the women of this symbol married when they were very young. They would have been happy according to the standard of happiness then operating in Jerusalem. Bringing up their children and their household duties would have taken up most of their time. Social activities would have claimed the more advanced ones and in some cases religion would have made its appeal.

But there was something lacking in the lives of the holders of this symbol. They failed in their duty to their essential selves rather than in their mundane duties. Those who engaged in brutal atrocities were constantly assaulting their conscience. The materialistic ones, wound up with a commercial key, were living but half lives. The sect of monks were the greatest offenders. They allowed their faculties to atrophy. Every faculty of the body should be used and developed, as should each faculty of the soul. The soul takes a body to promote its experience on this planet. If the body is disabled the soul’s progress is arrested. Many disabilities come upon us through our ignorance, and we must try to do our best whilst struggling against them, but no sane person would deliberately cut his arm off and then hope to succeed as a sculptor or a craftsman. No celibate has ever lived a complete life. All faculties must receive their due, and each must perform the duty which nature has imposed upon it. Celibacy, like degeneracy, has added nothing to the world. These are the two extremes of the same thing.

March

The symbol which operates from the 4th of March until the 10th is the Piece of Amber. This symbol denotes a kindly, artistic person whose life seems to be full of beginnings which come to no definite end—whose ideas are a bit hazy and whose mood of the moment seems to govern his decisions. There is an element of luck, however, which persists through difficult periods. The holder of this symbol is slow to recognize his opportunities.

The Babylonians and certain members of Indian castes carried amber to ensure the wearer against disease. It was one of their medical amulets. Occult science teaches that amber restores the magnetism and should be worn by people who feel exhausted from overwork or nerve-strain.

This symbol relates to India, and especially to Delhi, in the time of the Great Moghuls. It operates from 1480 to 1625.

Certain holders of it lived in the reign of Baber, the first ruler to bear the title of the Great Moghul, others lived in the reign of the apathetic Timur; still others lived when the brilliant Akbar was directing the building of his red-sandstone monuments; for, vigorous and exuberant in everything, Akbar spent laks of rupees to beautify his state and his court.

Some of the wearers of this symbol were ministers under the direction of one of these rulers. Some were merchants, others directed education, others were money-lenders, still others were yogis. Large numbers were slaves. Some of the men who lived in Akbar’s reign managed his police service. Others managed his theatrical performances. Many architects were needed for the planning of his forts, and palaces, so architects also hold this symbol.

Most of the women were wives, for India does not tolerate the state known as spinsterhood. There were dancing girls who had more freedom than the wives, but whose position was less secure—unless they were the dancers dedicated to the Hindu temples. These women, if secure according to social standards, had no enviable existence.

The present holders of this symbol were Hindus and Mohammedans. They were Hindus belonging to each of the castes, from Brahmans to Sutras. There were others belonging to no caste at all. These increased the ranks of the untouchables.

In India, then as now, the Mohammedans employed Hindus to fill all positions of authority and the Hindus returned the compliment by employing Mohammedans to manage their affairs. The Brahmans (the priestly caste) were so holy they could not risk pollution by contact with the lower castes, so they appointed members of the Kashatrya (military caste) as their executives.

Certain Indians say that one is not born a Brahman until one has almost reached the end of the journey on this planet; but I have reconstructed the previous lives of many Brahmans who, according to the symbols, show very little soul-development.

The bearers of this symbol who were yogis in their Indian existence must have disapproved of the grandeur and lavish waste of the Moghuls, for the yoga inclination and training make for endurance, the acceptance of hardship and the cultivation of poise.

Many lovers of physical culture and many adherents to rigid diet were yogis in former existences. Most of them have forgotten the secrets of endurance, the control of the breath which allowed them to walk on water or fire and the means used to penetrate the minds of people at a distance. This knowledge is in their soul-memory, but only in few cases are they able to release it.

The slaves had to do the bidding of their masters, and their happiness depended upon the character of the man or woman who owned them.

The women were expected to present their husbands with sons. This was especially true if they were Hindu women, for the Hindu husband must have a son to light his funeral pyre. If a woman failed to produce a son her husband took another wife. According to the Hindu laws he could have had several wives. Widowhood reduced Hindu women to the lowest status, and in many cases, rather than endure the disgrace of widowhood, they mounted the funeral pyre and gave their living bodies to the flames. This was called suttee—the sacrifice of Hindu wives at the death of their lords and masters. Thanks to Akbar’s intervention, suttee was not practised during his reign.

Those who lived during Akbar’s reign saw an age of beauty in architecture, of able city planning and of court ceremonies. There were strength and virile beauty in Akbar’s forts and palaces. His grandson was later to give the world such lyric masterpieces as the Taj Mahal.

People of this symbol lived in the seventh Delhi. The present Delhi, the English city, is the eighth Delhi. The ninth city—there will be another—will see the end of Hinduism as it is to-day. The seventh city was to India what Athens was to Greece or Rome to Italy. It was the heart of the country’s culture. Legend placed it on the site of Indraprastha, the city sung of in the Mahabharata. It was contemporary with the Plantagenets and the Hohenstaufens of the Holy Roman Empire. It was a walled city, having marble mosques, graceful fountains and beautiful palaces.

It was there that holders of this symbol learned to trust to the element of luck. Life was not difficult and there was little to struggle against. There was no hurry to finish any task. It was this easy-going existence (remembered in the essential-self) which makes it so difficult for them to recognize their opportunities to-day, and to make decisions. It is true that luck still follows the people of this symbol; but they must learn quickly to make up their minds and to understand what is happening about them before it is too late.

*  *  *

From the 11th until the 17th of March the symbol is the Cyclamen. It denotes optimistic tendency, love of power and in some cases (if the name symbols are fortunate) the capacity for leadership. People of this symbol can put new life into anything; but in spite of this they should follow business and professions of an established order; even something which is reinforced by tradition would be better for them than the unusual. If a little ceremony attaches to their work they should be better pleased with it. Their mind is intellectual and given to analysis. They trust to reason when they should leave decisions to their intuitions. It is strange, but many holders of this symbol have responsibility forced upon them which they accept as their duty. They are inclined to struggle under unnecessary burdens rather than face up to facts and refuse to be imposed upon. They have many friends, who appreciate them, and far too many acquaintances, who waste their time and substance.

The ancients believed that if cyclamen were planted near a house no evil could come near it. There is a sort of protection attaching to this symbol which ensures its holders against serious loss of property or reputation.

Bearers of it lived in Greece, in one of the greatest and most critical periods of her history; as to-day many of them live in one of the most critical periods of British history. They have lived in many such periods, for their lessons are to be learned in times of stress and uncertainty. Their chief lesson is not to reflect the age in which they live, but to oppose it. The line of least resistance is for very advanced souls, like Buddha, who can ignore what is happening about them while their minds function on higher planes of existence. Holders of this symbol lived in Pericles’ time. The dream of Pericles was the unification of all Greek-speaking peoples under his Athenian government. Many rulers, statesmen and dictators have indulged in this dream. Dreams, like other things, cannot operate until the world is ready for them.

Pericles attached all the best brains of Greece to the pursuit of art, statesmanship and commerce. It was a great age. Athens prospered. The fortifications were strengthened by the Long Walls which extended to the Piraeus, and secured the communications between city and seaport. Magnificent buildings were erected on the Acropolis, the Parthenon came into existence, and merchants acquired great wealth.

Bearers of this symbol were artists, goldsmiths, merchants, architects and politicians. Some, like the father of Socrates, were stone-cutters. The stonecutters of that day could be compared, in skill, with the artisans of the Middle Ages. They knew how to cut stones for the monuments and for the columns which decorated the buildings.

The goldsmiths could not rely, as they do to-day, upon machinery and moulds. They wrought with their own hands to compete with their fellow workers in the same art. They frequently designed those delicate vases which have never been equalled in grace. The sculptor Phidias had many goldsmiths to help him in his work. The goldsmiths used gold to adorn the streets and the temples of the city. Pericles was criticized by some of the statesmen for using the gold which was contributed by the allies for such purposes. Man has seldom cared where he got gold, so long as he got it; and usually the purposes for which he uses it can be criticized more than his means of obtaining it.

All Greeks were and are politicians. Greek politics will be heard while there is one Greek to harangue his listeners at the street-corner.

The holders of this symbol, who were merchants, dealt in all sorts of wares for which there was a ready sale. Few of these merchants felt the pinch of poverty.

Greece had various creeds, but she believed only in beauty. She left punishment to Israel, while she indulged in love. In Israel everything was righteous. In Greece everything was beautiful. When the Asiatic gods reached Olympus they had lost their imperfections. All that had been hideous in them became gay and cheerful. The people joined in their merriment and chased mystery and fear from the temples, leaving a holiday religion evolved from poetry and joy. The Greeks believed in the gods no more than we do; but they loved them. It is no wonder that holders of this symbol can put new life into everything, for in their previous lives beauty was the article of faith.

The Greek wives of the upper class would not have openly taken part in their husbands’ affairs; but their voice, if not heard publicly, would have been effective.

Greek girls of the poorer classes would have been taught to spin and to weave, and to make and mend the clothes worn by the various members of their families. They would have been permitted to watch the public games and to dance the simple village dances with other girls.

The village man, when his work was done (and before it was done if he could get his wife to do it for him), would take his lunch and go to the market-place, where he would talk politics by the hour with his cronies.

The strength of Athens depended upon her prosperity. When her wealth was threatened she went into decline. Pericles had exhausted the treasury for the beauty of his costly public works; and gold, which can prosper a city, can also be used against it. Money had been used to sow dissension among the subject states, and Greek rebels and malcontents had been welcomed at the Persian court. After years of luxury Athens realized what it meant to be financially embarrassed. Art had a serious set-back and rich men saw their fortunes reduced. The change of circumstances made the wealthy more unhappy than the poor. This has been the case throughout history, but no nation has learned the lesson which nature is striving to teach.

Few of the holders of this symbol have acquired a true sense of values. When they do they need not lean upon tradition and established order. But they are not yet ready to launch their ships on the uncharted seas. These people are not pioneers unless, as I mentioned before, their name symbols denote leadership. They must learn to put responsibility and blame where they belong and refuse to carry burdens which other people want to shift. Times have changed. The carefree days are gone. The game of life is won now by those who hold the cards and know how to play them.

*  *  *

The symbol which operates from the 18th of March until the 24th is the Mariner. It denotes a person who is composed of two selves. These two selves do not merge the one into the other, which is the case with what is known as a dual personality. Each has its own separate characteristics. As the bearers of this symbol grow older, one self dominates the other. This split in the personality is caused by karmic debt incurred in the previous existence, which must be paid in the present life. People who possess this symbol develop according to their circumstances. Wrong associates and self-indulgence are their besetting sins. Rapid adjustments to any conditions and extreme versatility fit them equally well for professions or for business. Many of them benefit through bequests or gifts. They find it difficult to remain in one place or to continue in the same occupation. Inclined to be very restless, they crave variety.

Their adaptability should allow them to make a success of marriage, but their love of change operates in all conditions.

All the foregoing is modified if the stronger self is dominating the weaker self.

These people have spent little time between incarnations. Many of them (unless their name symbols disagree) lived in Spain during the reigns of Charles IV, Ferdinand VII, and the regency of Christina (Ferdinand’s wife), who ruled until her daughter Isabella had reached her majority.

Spain was then having the same reign of terror which she is having to-day, although the causes of bloodshed differ. In the former period the trouble was caused by the restoration of the king. To-day two warring governments fight for supremacy. In the actual working-out of these two causes the difference becomes less. The egotism of certain leaders, then as now, laid waste the country to further their mistaken ideas of power and to appease their love of acquisition. It is a strange fact, but the role of conqueror is usually played by a megalomaniac.

Few men have had a greater regard for themselves than the pompous despot Ferdinand VII—and few men have had less reason for self-admiration. Whatever he was the people believed that they desired him and that he would refind some of the past glory of Spain. The Spaniards, until recently, have expressed a certain monarchial fanaticism, and the person of a king meant more to them than the form of government under which they lived. A king they would have, however they acquired him.

Nominally Joseph Bonaparte was king of Spain, but the Juntas, the representatives of the nation, acknowledged only the captive Ferdinand, who was proclaimed king by his father Charles IV when he abdicated.

Various parties were at each others’ throats, but the Absolutist party was strong enough to divide the liberals. It was also strong enough to enable Ferdinand to reject the constitution to which he had pledged himself.

He re-established the Inquisition and removed, with the aid of French soldiers, all restrictions from his rule. The aristocrats hovered round him like a flock of birds. They offered him their riches and their loyalty. Certain parties advocated a return to the old regime. The time had come to act in a decisive and kingly manner. Ferdinand applied himself to the kingly role by condemning to death all who in any way opposed his authority. Any writer who wrote a word in which the rights of the king were doubted could be put to death. A premium was placed upon information and secret police penetrated into every household. Neither age nor sex offered any protection. Wives could be sent to prison for not denouncing their husbands if they knew that their husbands were guilty of any opposition to this reign of terror.

In such an atmosphere holders of this symbol dared not speak the truth. They were afraid to discuss anything with a stranger in case he was a spy. No one was natural. Everyone played a part. In such a country, where no one could call his soul his own, it is small wonder that karmic debts were contracted which must be paid in the present existence. The deeds performed by an individual are not counted against him in karmic law. It is the motive behind the deed (known only to each individual) which delays the progress of the soul. Many deeds inspired by hatred and revenge were done by people holding this symbol. Having to be all things to all men developed a character which lacked the courage of its convictions.

Not all the holders of this symbol submerged their better natures under hypocrisy and subterfuge. Some boldly defied the existing conditions and died or suffered for their convictions. These people incurred fewer debts in the past and consequently make fewer karmic payments in their present incarnation.

There is nothing which indicates straitened circumstances in the former life for the bearers of this symbol. On the other hand, there is nothing to denote affluence.

Law, medicine and the clergy are represented as the professions followed by certain of these people. Many of the men were in the army and some occupied positions in the government. Titles were held by a small group, but titles and connection with royalty are indicated only by the name symbols of an individual.

So far as business is concerned, variety is conspicuous. Everything pertaining to the trade and commerce of the period was practised by a large number who come under this symbol.

Former members of the clergy suffer more in this existence than other holders of the symbol. The reason is obvious. The Inquisition was a political order carried on in the name of religion. The spiritual censures and the dupes who acted under their direction were controlled by the state. Not until 1834 was the Inquisition finally abolished in Spain, and then its property was applied to the liquidation of the national debt.

There are two offences which carry the greatest burden of karmic debt—persecution in the name of religion and the destructive use of occult science.

The majority of the women holding this symbol were wives and mothers in Spain. The majority of women in any period are wives and mothers. Connection with the arts, especially music, is indicated for women of this sign. They are inclined to be very emotional and changeable—until their stronger character asserts itself.

All holders of this symbol should cultivate caution and discernment.

*  *  *

From the 25th of March until the 1st of April the symbol is Two Reeds Bound Together. If people of this sign recognize their opportunities they should be very successful. Friends help them because they have helped others in the past. They are inclined to become public benefactors; but owing to their present conditions many of them should curb their generosity. Opportunities occur if their work entails travelling. They love change and travel. Forceful and energetic, they are quite capable of knocking down any obstacle on their way through life. It is important that their partners (in marriage or business) understand them. These are the people who find it difficult, as Kipling would say, to “settle to one.” This appears equally in love and in business affairs. In spite of this, they must have someone who is their special companion, to whom they will be devoted and on whom they will shower benefits—until another companion who interests them equally appears.

In their previous existence this symbol relates to Russia in the fifteenth century, when the country was emerging from the rule of the Vetch into the monarchial regime which continued until the World War. Russia’s present form of government is not her first attempt at democracy. Her ancient government, the Vetch, was an organization ruled by popular council. The noblemen and princes of that day, who had achieved their titles by the vast tracts of land they owned, decided to establish a monarchy in which the people would have no vote.

It was during the previous lives of holders of this symbol that Russia started to subject the people, and the position of the serfs (peasants) was degraded. For many years the entire country was at variance, rent by internal strife. Many of the princes thought more about their personal welfare than the welfare of their country.

Some of the holders of this symbol were noblemen of Kiev who migrated to the city of Vladimir, which became the favourite residence of the men who wished to establish the new monarchy. Under the new regime (the Vladimir regime) these men became governors of the army, which was recruited all over Russia. They had a very determined military policy, not untouched by cruelty, when it came to furthering the economic position of Vladimir. They were hard-riding, hard-swearing, hard-living men. Strong personalities were the only ones which counted in those days.

The wives and daughters of these men would also have been inured to hardship. Their castles, however imposing, would have offered little protection in those winters of snow and ice. Windows without glass furnished unwelcome intimacy with the elements, and the smoke from fires built on the stone floors weakened lungs already deficient in resistance from contact with intense cold. Only the physically fit survived the rigours of their previous existence (who lived to be thirty-eight and over); they are the women who to-day surmount all barriers on their way to success or to love. They are intense, impulsive creatures, never halting until they reach their goal, whatever it happens to be—women who exhale the odour of virility, whose desires hold them like a steel clamp—who sometimes help men to brilliant success and who sometimes destroy a man’s initiative. It is their flaming personality, which takes upon itself any amount of responsibility, which destroys a man’s initiative. Their intense desire to help and to manage a situation is responsible for this; for only the worthless woman puts a man into abjection. They will dare anything, yield anything. The poet Edna Millay, who said “Oh world, if I could get you closer,” must have this symbol prominent in her set-up.

Many holders of this symbol were serfs who did all the work of the households as well as the work out of doors. The work was not done too willingly, for this symbol denotes rebellion against existing law.

Bearers of this symbol should cultivate tolerance and the habit of seeing the point of view held by others. They can accomplish almost anything when they learn the lessons required by this symbol.

April

The symbol operating from the 2nd of April until the 8th is the Asp. This is an Egyptian symbol which was placed over the porticos of Egyptian temples. It denotes the spirit of adventure and the love of conquest. If aroused, the bearers of this symbol are combative, but their general inclination is to protect the weak. They are straightforward and rather romantic. Their inner emotions are intense and they are inclined to be too sensitive. They can put up a logical argument and quickly take command of a situation. If no other symbol opposes they are decidedly unconventional.

They lived in Egypt in the First Dynasty, in the reign of the first king of Egypt (of recorded history), whom the Greeks called Menes. The Egyptians called him Mena. He ruled over the kingdom of Memphis, which in the ancient Egyptian language meant “the good place.” His acts were those necessary to the first prince of a country. He founded his city and built the temple of Ptah—the first temple in Egypt. He was responsible for the introduction of the cult of Apis (the worship of the bull), and also he discovered the alphabet (used on the prehistoric monuments) 15,000 years before Phroneus, the architect of Argos, was accredited with its discovery.

Different factors from those recognized to-day would have elevated a man in ancient Egypt. Certain holders of this symbol would have achieved their exalted rank through their knowledge of magic and of the religious rites of that period. There would have been priests, astrologers (a crude form of astrology was practised then in Egypt) and interpreters of dreams. Prediction by omens would also have belonged to this class. The flight of the ibis would have told them from which direction to expect prosperity. The flight of the crane would have warned against misfortune.

Women also, who were temple priestesses, would have been well versed in magic.

The love of occult science, which is expressed by the holders of this symbol, had its inception in Egypt. Certain holders had something to do with the worship of the crocodile, which was first practised in Egypt in the waters of Lake Moeris. Mena gave this lake to the people for crocodile worship. Legend says that Mena was swallowed by a hippopotamus in this lake; but his symbols indicate that his passing was caused by continued fasting during some magic rite. This symbol belongs to architects, and a certain group had something to do with the building of the famous Labyrinth, which was actually built to protect a memorial pyramid.

Mena united Upper and Lower Egypt, thus giving the country a national existence and producing a certain kind of patriotism among the people. A rather nebulous love of country is expressed by holders of this symbol. They are not intensely national. They are the universal people who would like to see the world united in peace.

War was waged on the surrounding country by Mena, but war has always been proclaimed by those in power regardless of the wishes of the people.

According to symbolism, the people of that day understood telepathy much as the African native understands it. They could receive messages from a distance and send messages at will. Telepathy has always been understood by primitive peoples. Any number of Christopher Columbuses of our day are claiming the discovery of it. They say that it is but little understood as yet, but in the future people may be able to send messages without using mechanical instruments. There can be no great mystery about something which any Indian yogi can do with practice. The holders of this symbol are natural clairvoyants. Frequently they can tell what is going to happen, but for various reasons (inhibition may have something to do with it) they do not make the most of their “gift.” The women of Mena’s day would have lived much the same as other primitive women. They would have looked after their children, worshipped their gods and chatted with their neighbours.

Mummies in the First Dynasty were not wrapped. Such a mummy as many holders of this symbol left in Egypt can be seen in the British Museum. It is in a glass case, its knees bent upward, and it is surrounded with clay pots. The ancient Egyptians, believing that one’s possessions would be needed in a future existence, placed them beside one’s mummy.

Holders of this symbol should strive to refind some of their primitive knowledge. It would be a strange contrast to much of the hokus-pokus of to-day.

*  *  *

From the 9th of April until the 15th the symbol is Lin, a Chinese goddess represented with many arms. It denotes an alert mind. People of this symbol draw unconsciously on an ancient fund of knowledge. They can do any number of things, one after another, doing each equally well. People who try to deceive them are wasting their time, for these people are mind-readers. Long explanations are not necessary when dealing with them. A hint is all they need. They follow their own judgment regardless of any advice they receive. Their courage will stand a strain, and they are inclined to work harder than is necessary. Reverses bring out their fighting spirit, and no matter what is against them they never admit defeat.

This symbol relates to China during the Han Dynasty, which was one of the greatest of the Chinese dynasties. In this dynasty, which dominated the Middle Kingdom, a thousand latent energies were released. Revival, remembrance and recovery brought the great days of the past back into being and added to the re-creation new philosophy, art, religion and poetry. Heaven dwelt in the four palaces of the seasons, and nature was contemplated in harmony and simplicity.

The holders of this symbol lived during the early and latter days of the Han. Confusion is evident at the beginning and the end of dynasties. The Han was no exception.

The bearer of this sign, who lived when the government was trying to centralize itself, knew the hardship and the humour of its establishment. They saw barbarian vigour reluctantly give way to manners and to the forming of a tradition for posterity. Headhunters were no longer paid for the heads they brought back from battle, raids were no longer made on the felt tents; the bones of soldiers no longer marked the trail across the Gobi Desert. Regardless of all inclinations to the contrary, peace was to be established.

Peace demanded a palace and a gentle deportment. One could not whittle a piece off a column, sing filthy songs or spit in a hat if one lived in a palace. These actions might be tolerated in a felt tent, but the palace required a different mode of life.

The early Emperors felt the strain, and who can blame them if they returned frequently to their former homes, where they could swear with their lusty companions and get drunk without shocking the proprieties? Gradually they accustomed themselves to the requirements of peace. They studied statecraft, religion and literature. They began to prefer the newer life.

There were men in the palace who are now bearers of this symbol and they had to pass an examination in literature and in the religious rites before they could qualify for their appointments.

Others of this symbol lived in the days of the Empress Lii. The Empress Lii was the perfect example of the woman scorned. When her husband died and the reins of the government were placed in her hands, she paid her husband (or his memory) back for his neglect of her by poisoning his concubines and the children he had left by them. Fully to pander to her venom, she had the arms and legs of the favourite concubine tied, and, after putting her eyes out, she left her to die by inches in a lavatory. Having despatched the concubines and their children and all the accessible members of her husband’s family, she got down to governing the country. Strangely enough, her method of governing was kind and humane. The country prospered under this woman of short-sighted policy and generous impulses. To a barbarian chief who proposed to her when she was sixty (he really proposed to the Middle Kingdom), she sent a young Han princess and an apology for growing old and having lost her teeth and hair.

Holders of this symbol who lived during her reign were in various circumstances. They ranged from artists and government officials to cowherds. Many of them were soldiers. Women of this sign were in the days of the Empress Lii wives of aristocrats and wives of the men who made up the larger part of the population.

Many able financiers lived in the days of the Emperor Wu Ti. Certain holders of this symbol have a highly developed financial talent which was acquired in their Chinese existence. Unfortunately it is latent to-day with a large number.

Wu Ti’s men had to know how to replenish his coffers. They were called in when funds got low and commanded to think up ways to replenish the exchequer. Some of them instituted the sale of titles.

So successful was this institution that it became a regular business with a fixed tariff. The world has never known a time when a good price could not be got for vanity. In Wu Ti’s time there was a special order for military merit. It was military only in the sense that it provided funds for the army. It was arranged in eleven degrees. It cost thirty-seven pounds of pure gold to acquire the highest degree. This was a high price to pay for snobbishness.

Men who were nominated for offices in the government could not decline unless they paid a heavy fine.

Official promotion was arranged by gifts of money. So eager were the financiers to enrich the exchequer that condemned persons were allowed to purchase redemption. The salt, iron and alcohol monopolies were established by these wizards of finance. When merchants were taxed until they were forced out of business, the government took on their business and buying and selling were controlled by the state. New types of currency were introduced, so charged with alloy that the saving in valuable metals was commented upon. Notes were extraordinary and cumbersome. One, twelve inches square, was cut from the skin of the white deer and decorated round the edges with seaweed fringe.

When the exchequer was on a solid basis the passing of an examination in literature for posts in the civil service was revived. It had been dropped in the reign of the Empress Lii. The people came into their own when the examination was again started, for they knew more about literature than the nobility. The reestablishment of this examination allowed a jailer and a keeper of pigs to become councillors.

Architects were employed to undertake the building of religious architecture. The Hall of Understanding was built on the banks of the River Wen in 107.

Not all the holders of this symbol were financiers and architects in Wu Ti’s time. Some were soothsayers; others were court magicians. Mediums gave trance messages, as they do to-day. One message encouraged Wu Ti to fit out a fleet of junks to find the Islands of the Blest and the Tree of Immortality. The court magicians performed materialization phenomena by royal order, but the Emperor was unable to see any apparition. In desperation the chief magician, Chao Weng, hit (like many who have followed him) upon an almost brilliant idea. He induced an ox to swallow a piece of silk upon which he had written a prophecy. He told the Emperor that if the ox were killed a great prophecy would be revealed. The Emperor ordered the ox to be killed; but unfortunately he recognized Chao Weng’s writing, and the magician followed the ox into one of the many Chinese hells. Not all the soothsayers were frauds. Valuable information was given Wu Ti by some of them.

The most advanced souls who lived in the days of the Han were the artists, who painted landscapes on rolls of silk and rice paper. China’s history can be studied on these rolls. Men have left their devotion and their passion on rice paper and the family life with its gods on pieces of silk. The picture-roll shows us all manner of people: pilgrims marching to their pagodas, sages meditating, emperors and empresses, woodcutters, fishermen and cowherds. We see the beauty of Chinese gardens, with their rockeries and drooping pines. We catch the feel of the breeze which hurries through them in the evenings. Beyond the moon-gate we see the dragon-carved door with its jade handles. We catch a glimpse of the jade terraces—jade and jasmine and swinging lanterns.

The frenzy called progress has forgotten the picture-rolls. In brass-cornered camphor-chests they await the abatement of destruction; when they will again adorn the walls, and, like the banned books of the ancient sages (which were resurrected by one of the Han Emperors), they will again point out the wisdom and beauty on the road to peace.

All wearers of this symbol have an exceptional background. In their soul-memory lie the knowledge and the whimsical humour of a magnificent race.

*  *  *

The Parsley is the symbol from the 16th until the 22nd of April. It is the Roman symbol of victory. Because it helped to form the crown of the Roman victors it was considered a mystic plant. It was also used on coins and always to represent victory. It has considerable occult significance. The Babylonians used it (when they gathered it under a certain aspect of the moon) to arrest disease. As a medicine it was taken internally and used externally. It was used, according to certain ancient writings, as a beauty treatment. It denotes strong-minded people whose heads are apt to rule their hearts. These people have fine organizing ability and they are inclined to assume the role of dictator in anything they undertake. Their minds are always on results, and they frequently disregard the factors leading to the accomplishment of an undertaking. Their intuition is excellent—if only they would use it. They will meet with difficulties which seem, for a while, to check their progress. This happens when their mind is running on a single track and when they have become too self-centred. Continuity is an excellent thing, but there are times when flexibility and discrimination are more important than constancy. People of this symbol, if they do not watch out, are liable to get into a rut. Unless other symbols disagree, they are not susceptible to flattery. In this they differ from the larger portion of humanity, which laps up flattery as a cat laps cream. People of this symbol suspect the flatterer and look for the motive under his words.

This symbol relates to the end of Rome, when Christianity made its appearance there. Rome, with her gods almost as numerous as the populace, had for many years been riding for a fall. Paganism was loth to give way to brotherly love, but the people were tired of rulers who had taken their inspiration from the infamies of Tiberius and the corruption of Caligula men who didn’t take the trouble to cover their turpitudes with hypocrisy.

The mad imperial orgy of war and lust had exhausted their patience. They scarcely noticed that a page of history was being turned. They listened rather inattentively at first to the new message.

The early Christians had no intention of founding a new religion. They were the heralds of “death”—not of how to live. Had they thought of life they would not have preached celibacy. They condemned sex when they condemned woman and humiliated her by enjoining on her submission.

When marriage was regarded as unholy and degrading the Romans pricked up their ears. They were weary of their lax marriage laws and of divorce. Divorce had become as popular in Rome as it is to-day in England and America. The idea of attaching a divorce coupon to the marriage licence had not occurred to the Romans—nor has it been thought of by the over-worked judges of to-day.

“Death” is in the mind when an empire is expiring. Fear can then be sown. The Romans were afraid to face, without forgiveness, what the new Order said awaited them. But the new Order promised forgiveness if they would change their way of living and concentrate on the hereafter. The peace which passeth understanding was to be won by “death.” There was love in the new message, but there was severity also. Rome, which had been destroyed by pleasure, was eager for the new severity which lorded asceticism.

When the Romans thought it over later the doctrine of asceticism was to madden them and to lead them on to persecution. “To the arena with the Christians” was a reactionary call. It had not been heard at first. Fasting and celibacy had goaded the Romans on. Then a new note was sounded. Paul spoke on the dignity of marriage. Marriage was permitted; but celibacy was still the ideal. Many concessions were made, beside permission to marry. The populace would have the same status as the nobility. Even the slaves would share equally in the future blessings.

It took time, but eventually Rome turned from her brazen litters, with their silken curtains, her rose-water baths and her gay apparel, and faced Christianity. Paganism was pulled down, but it would not die. It reincarnates more frequently than the soul of man.

In the passage from paganism to Christianity we hear the roar and surge of blood, the crash of falling nations, the din of splintering civilizations mingled with the cry of brotherly love; and on the site of these ruins we hear the diabolic laughter of the survivors—the gods of lust and hatred.

The wearers of this symbol occupied all sorts of positions in the expiring Empire. Some went down with paganism. Others marched on under the new standard. Roman matrons, who had lived for luxury and lavish display, boldly turned to sackcloth and ashes—or they remained true to the gods of the toilet.

The old conflict still wages in the souls of all holders of this symbol—the conflict between belief and disbelief. The questions in their deeper minds do not come to the surface, for these people can (apparently) accept any situation.

This symbol is frequently found with the Galloping Horse—the symbol which operates from the 22nd of January until the 28th; but this symbol, the Parsley, is concerned with the conflict between Christianity and paganism.

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From the 23rd of April until the 30th the symbol is a Circle from which Wings Project. This is a very ancient symbol. It denotes people of excellent judgment who are extremely practical. These people will never fall down the well while contemplating the stars. “Hen-pecked” men and submissive women do not wear this symbol. Their exceptional ability will get them through situations where others are apt to fail. Certain of these people are creative; others are natural scientists. They are all conscientious and loyal. Some of the idealistically inclined deliberately allow themselves to be imposed upon. A furious temper accompanies this sign, but fortunately it is not easily aroused. Women of this symbol are very attractive to men, but men seldom realize how inwardly critical these women are. Success means much to them and they prefer men who achieve something in life.

Once the people of this symbol lived in Constantinople. This was when Murad I was the Sultan. Murad was a man marked out by destiny to play two important parts on the Turkish stage: namely, warrior and writer. He was the first Amurath author. He was an incurable romantic, always with some hope, some made-up dream which he knew couldn’t happen, but which he would long for just the same.

Certain holders of this symbol were his financial ministers. They found the money for his wars, when he routed the united Serbians, Hungarians and Vlachs on the banks of the Maritza.

When the Balkan Peninsula became a Turkish possession because of Murad’s genius for war, money poured into the Turkish coffers. It was then that other holders of this symbol gave their attention to expenditure for peace. Schools for boys were founded, new mosques uprose to the memory of the Prophet and all civic arrangements were generally advanced. Murad went back to his books and peace for a time settled down over the Golden Horn.

Many of the wearers of this symbol were goldsmiths practising various crafts, manufacturers, domestic merchants and merchants dealing with foreign nations. All of these could drive a hard bargain. A smaller number who come under this sign were Ulema (priests), teachers, musicians and writers. Not much in the nature of scientific research was being done in Constantinople at that time, but the desire to probe nature until she discloses her secrets has always lingered in the minds of holders of this symbol.

To-day many of them are interested in advancing aviation and in studying the wayward character of electricity. In the future (several incarnations ahead) they will give their minds to thought-transference (which will become as rapid as voice transmission) and to the air-swim. We shall yet swim through the air as we now swim through the water. We now understand the currents of the water and how to deal with them. There will come a time when we shall understand the air currents and how to deal with them.

The greatest man of this century, the only one who has definitely advanced the human race (“facts” of to-day which other “facts” dislodge to-morrow advance the race only by trial and error), knew something of air currents. Marconi had this symbol very prominent in his set-up.

The custom in Constantinople when people of this sign lived there would have allowed the men (their incomes permitting) the four wives mentioned by the Prophet and as many dark-eyed beauties as they wished in the harem. They would have loved their wives in the Turkish way; but being true-born sons of Islam they would have insisted upon their wives’ faces being veiled with the yashmak.

The harem beauties represented the worldly status of the men, much as a racing-stable represents the material standing of an Englishman. These women would have presented their lords with children, as the chief wives did, but their children would not have had the same social position as the children of the wives. Neither would they have had the same right when claiming inheritance.

The Turkish women of Murad’s day would have found no fault with the domestic arrangements. Everything in the East was then considered an arrangement of Fate. The East spoke, but she did not explain. Women accepted and endured. But the defiance of the Turkish women, which for years was not suspected, was to fling the yashmak aside in our present generation and demand the freedom which is the right of every being.

Religion meant much more to the holders of this symbol when they lived in Constantinople than it does to-day. Every Friday their (male) voices could have been heard reading the Koran in some shadowed corner of the mosque of Suliman or of San Sophia—where the Greek founder of the city once rode in on his steaming charger to worship another Faith.

Many of these people suffered considerably after the assassination of the Sultan. Appointments given out during his reign were lost, together with money which had been accumulated; but people of this symbol are bound to see a way out of difficulties. Many of them gathered up what could be used of the wreck and made a fresh start, and when they finally closed their eyes on the lilac-covered hills of Stamboul their worldly positions were almost as good as in the brilliant days of Murad’s reign. This is the first incarnation people of this sign have had in the West. They should cultivate tolerance and sympathy.

May

The symbol operating from the 1st of May until the 7th is the Chain Consisting of Six Links. It denotes a person who will never willingly become subservient to others. Nothing can overshadow the personality of people holding this symbol. Their love of dominating a situation frequently causes them disappointments in friendship. They can succeed in anything in which they are interested. Beauty appeals to them and they are true nature-worshippers. On the surface they are patient and calm, but in the depths they are passionate and forceful. They seldom count the cost when they wish to accomplish anything. In late middle life they should reap the reward of determined effort. Every six years—in some cases every six months—a change comes into their lives.

In the past this symbol relates to England during the Danish occupation. Set up with the latitude symbols I find the holders of this sign living in or near Worcester. This was the city where tax was levied for the support of the Danish soldiery. This tax was resisted by the English (this symbol belongs to the English and also to the Danes living in England) to the extent of murdering the tax collectors. The law finally caught up with the ringleaders who had perpetrated the murders, but not before the city was pillaged and burnt. During this pillaging much property was destroyed. Agriculture came to a standstill. Many holders of this symbol, having suffered heavy losses, ranged themselves with the destroyers, thinking, no doubt, that if they could not protect their own property they might as well destroy the property of others.

Prison was not unknown to many of them, neither was the brutality of the Danish soldiers. Survival depended upon physical fitness, which is well aspected by this symbol.

Harthacnut the Dane governed England until Magnus became king of Norway. Harthacnut, while negligent and intemperate, was not without ambition, and his army saw to it that he acquired and governed the English land to which, as heir of Canute, he believed himself entitled.

He was a strange blend of contradictions. When he arrived in England he displayed his childish and impotent vengeance by causing his brother’s remains to be disinterred and cast into the Thames. Getting this brutality off his mind, he became kindness itself to the family of Ethelred. He gave Edward, the youngest son of Ethelred (afterwards called the Confessor), a splendid establishment. He alternated between deeds of kindness done for the English and punishments inspired by temper. As his kindness depended upon his own emotions it does not count for much. He died without issue, thus ending the Danish rule in England.

Magnus was a ruler of different calibre. During his reign Norway, Denmark and England enjoyed several years of prosperity. He reduced piracy, thus moderating the dread of the North. He was known as “the Good,” and in spite of historians who say that this appellation denotes weak government and little advancement, the country prospered under the reign of Magnus. He was generous, understanding and tolerant. His key-word was peace, and the diplomacy with which he established peace was in his day very unusual.

He was followed by Harold, who compiled an able code of laws. Then came William I of England, a daring, intrepid monarch who caused the Scandinavians to think twice before they invaded his country.

Magnus reigned from 1042 until 1047. The years following his reign, when the succeeding rulers were in power, saw a little more security in England. Pillage was no longer popular, and men settled down to the cultivation of their land. Many of the holders of this symbol lived during the reigns of these northern rulers and during the reign of William I. There was overlapping at the beginning and at the end of these reigns. Certain ones had reached late middle life when Harthacnut appeared and others lived after the reign of William, but this symbol is concerned with the period denoting these reigns. Holders of this sign were soldiers, farmers, merchants, artisans and members of the clergy.

Judged by our present standards, the daily life would have been very difficult. Courage and vitality were needed to resist the winter weather, when houses were heated by smoking fires which must have blinded and choked the people who gathered round them. England has made but little progress in the art of being comfortable. She still does not know how to heat her houses. In this she is not as advanced as the Romans, who could at least heat the outside of their houses.

In their previous existences in Danish England the women shared with the men the hewing of wood and drawing of water.

In those strenuous days brotherhood guilds were formed. There were guilds for religious purposes and guilds for merchants and artisans. The religious guilds existed for the purpose of saying prayers and holding services for the poor. When anyone died the religious brotherhood spent the night singing hymns and saying prayers. Masses were said for the repose of the soul of the dead. The lighter note which sometimes crept into the Irish wake was missing.

The merchants’ and artisans’ guilds were known as Calendars because their members met on the first day of each month. If one member of the guild killed another, he had to pay forty marks to his victim’s family.

(Comparable to this conscience money in our present existence is the fee accepted by an unfortunate family which has unwillingly provided a victim to some mad motorist’s carelessness or speed.) If a member of the guild lost his money or his means of livelihood, the other members passed the hat for him, usually receiving a collection which enabled him to make a fresh start. These people placed friendship before love.

This trait still exists in the holders of this symbol. Their love affairs must be reinforced with sympathy and understanding if they are to endure. Their desire to dominate a situation was bred in a hard school, when nothing but the ability to dominate a situation saved them from annihilation. More than most, these people can be trusted ably to discharge a duty. They are blessed with mental and physical courage. Their lesson in this life is self-government, for their abnormal persistence causes them to go too far in many of their undertakings.

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From the 8th of May until the 14th the symbol is the Horse with a Golden Ball (the Sun) on his Head. It denotes people who are impetuous, restless and ambitious. They are inclined to exaggerate, because their mind and speech rush past their objective. They are not accurate, but their alert minds notice a mistake before others can point it out. They are tenacious and sometimes very obstinate, and inclined to believe what they wish to believe rather than what is a fact. They are practical and understand material values. This is true even of the eccentric and original ones. They have quite an opinion of their own importance, but not too much regard for the feelings of others. This is one of the symbols which attract wealth—but it may also attract disillusionment.

People holding it were Arabs in their previous existence. Many of them followed the fortunes of Queen Zenobia, and lived in the city of Palmyra, the magnificent desert city of this glamorous queen. This symbol actually belongs to the desert and especially to Palmyra. Holders of it were Bedouins with the nomadic tendency (it still exists) of the desert-born.

Zenobia’s Bedouin husband, Septimus Odenathus was in A.D. 264 appointed Governor of the East by Gallienus. Zenobia and her son, Wahballath, shared the Governor’s power. After her husband’s “death” Zenobia caused herself to be called Queen of the East. She felt justified in doing this as she claimed descent from the Ptolemys of Egypt. She was a great woman, loving study and vigorous exercise. She spoke Greek, Syrian and the Egyptian language; she patronized the art of her day, and when not engaged in intellectual pursuits and in governing her people, she hunted the lion and the panther. She was temperate, but to win a point she would become a lively pal, drinking wine with her generals and with the Persians. Her idea of chastity was quite unusual in her day, when the less said about morals the better. She believed in the union of the sexes only for procreation. As a sovereign she could be severe or sympathetic as the occasion demanded.

She defeated an army sent against her by Gallienus, making herself mistress of Egypt, her rule extending as far as Bithynia.

Many holders of this symbol accompanied her to Egypt. A part of this number must have established homes in Egypt and remained there when she returned to Palmyra. They probably lived not far from the city which is now called Cairo. Old Memphis, with its famous temple of Ptah and its other temples, had been destroyed before their time. Only certain of its walls remained.

Somewhere on the desert Zenobia gathered her colourful court about her. Wearers of this symbol fought in her army, managed her reforms, erected her buildings and worshipped with her in the temple of the sun (Baal).

Arab women of the upper classes were not veiled then. They had considerable say in the government and in all social matters. Their daily lives were happy. They had dozens of slaves to carry out their slightest wish and musicians and dancing girls to entertain them. Less fortunate wearers of the symbol were the slaves and the dancers.

Zenobia went into battle with her army, and she frequently decorated her soldiers for their prowess in war. She was a rather restless woman, living in the centre of her emotions and always longing for something new to conquer. Tiring of Egypt, she returned to her beloved Palmyra on the northern edge of the Arabian desert, a little over one hundred miles from Damascus. There is nothing standing of this once famous city but the portico of the Great Colonade to testify to the glory and splendour of former days. When holders of this symbol knew it, it was the chief commercial centre of Arabia, where intellect, aristocracy and riches met. It governed all NearEastern countries and all paid tribute to it.

It was to this magnificent city that Aurelian, the Roman conqueror, pursued Zenobia and finally conquered her. It is said that she expected help from the Persians and the Arabians, but that they disappointed her. But Zenobia, who believed in the prediction of the oracle, had for years dreaded defeat by a Roman conqueror. The Palmyrians had at one time acquired a large portion of the Roman Empire. Drunk with the lust of battle, they had consulted the oracle in their temple of Apollo at Selencia, asking how further to conquer Rome. The oracle had warned them, had told them that their treacherous deeds had angered the gods. They received the prediction that Rome would conquer them in the end—that a man of the Roman people (Aurelian’s birth was humble) would govern Palmyra. What the oracle had omitted to tell Zenobia was that Aurelian would be very generous with her, that he would present her with a beautiful home in Tivoli—a suburb of Rome—where she would spend the remainder of her days in peace and comfort with her two sons.

There are holders of this symbol who did not accompany Zenobia to Egypt, others who returned with her to Palmyra. These people lived on in Palmyra when it was under Roman rule. Certain of them of the merchant classes became rich from supplying merchandise to the surrounding countries during the long-protracted Roman wars.

These people are never quite satisfied with anything. They believe that the grass on the other side of the fence is always greener—until they climb the fence. Distance holds enchantment for all who come under this sign. As they need never worry about getting into a rut, they should cultivate contentment.

*  *  *

From the 15th of May until the 21st the symbol is the Ibis Feather. It denotes people who know how to hold what they acquire. They are artistic, liking good clothes, decoration and pleasant surroundings. They should have some outstanding talent if they are living up to their previous existence. Many of them earned a position for themselves in the past.

In their present existence they are inclined to be diffident. Their idealism will carry them far if they can overcome shyness and a certain self-depreciation. In spite of this, they have a violent temper when aroused. To their credit it can be said they never seek revenge and petty spite is unknown to them. They can succeed in any profession or occupation when they overcome shyness. Thrift and extravagance play their parts in the actions of these people. Extravagance has been acquired in their present existence.

Women of this sign are more diplomatic than the men. Every eight years a change should occur in the lives of these people.

This symbol relates to Egypt during the reign of Rameses II and Meneptah, who followed him.

Egypt’s power declined under Rameses, for he failed to hold the foreign possessions. Being more interested in building than anything else, he let much of the Egyptian territory slip through his fingers. He is called the Pharaoh of the Oppression, but this statement is rather far-fetched, for the king of the Hittites was able to settle with him on equal terms. The element of luck was with him in the battle of Kadesh, his most famous exploit.

Being advanced in years when he ascended the throne, he knew, no doubt, the folly of war, and turned his attention to things constructive. He restored the monuments destroyed by the previous rulers and covered Egypt with new temples, tombs, and public buildings. It was his determined love of building which gave him the title of “the Great,” and he is perhaps the only ruler who ever won this title for construction instead of destruction.

He raised the local militia to a standing army of considerable importance. Certain holders of this symbol belonged to his army. Others were scribes, who looked after the crops, the irrigation schemes, the wells and the mines. Scribes had little to do with writing. “Scribe” was a name used to designate men of certain occupations, hence the crops scribe, irrigation scribe, etc.

Everyone in Egypt belonged to a class. While India had (and has) a caste system, Egypt had a class system. Divisions were made according to occupations. As in India, the priests and military men had the highest positions. The only way the Egyptian system differed from the Indian was that a man did not necessarily follow the occupation of his father. Children of a priest frequently chose the army as a profession; and children of military men became priests.

In the priestly class there were many grades: the sacred priests, the priests of the sacrifices, the dressers the embalmers, the masonic priests, the priests of ceremonies and the high priest of the king.

Women were priestesses of the temples, of the gods and of the kings and queens. There were a large number of other employments connected with religion at which women officiated. Men and women of this symbol had much to do with religion in Egypt. The desire to study occult science which accompanies this symbol had its beginning in Egypt.

The military men had to provide their own arms and to hold themselves in readiness for active work when required. The garrisons were posted in fortified towns, and there was a military school established for the purpose of instructing the soldiers. The royal guard consisted of a thousand soldiers, who were selected each year and received more bread and wine than the ordinary soldiers.

The strength of the army was in its archers, who fought on foot or in chariots. In Rameses’ time each chariot contained two warriors and the charioteer. Looking at a chariot in museums, wearers of this symbol, who were once warriors in Egypt, might think that they would hate to ride in such an uncomfortable-looking thing. As a matter of fact, the chariot was not uncomfortable. The bottom was made of rope woven in a manner to produce elasticity. On the Egyptian roads this rope foundation would have been more comfortable than springs. The wheels were placed as far back as possible, thus resting the greater part of the weight on the horses which supported the pole. This same pole was used in England in the nineteenth century, proving that wagon-construction hadn’t gone very far in three thousand years.

Wearers of this sign were also artists and sculptors in Egypt. Rameses’ marvellous buildings were covered with reliefs. Innumerable gods and heroes stood upon their planes on the walls, and large figures stood before the temples and the palaces. It is difficult to find anything in Egyptian art showing the touch of the amateur. The figures are frightfully conventional and frequently done in profile, but the men who made them came fully fledged to the art. As we gaze at the Sphinx, with its huge head and its lion’s body, we may consider it extremely ugly, but who would dream of saying that we are looking at an experiment?

Egypt was a very conventional country. Everything was done by the book and all development proceeded on tradition. The individual was of little account. Originality was a crime not to be tolerated. This explains the diffidence and self-depreciation of the holders of this symbol.

In Rameses’ time brothers and sisters could marry if they belonged to royal or important families. Men sometimes married their daughters. As a matter of fact, the king set the example by marrying his daughter. The voice of woman was heard in all social and religious matters and descent was through the female line.

Meneptah was sixty years of age when he became Pharaoh. He could not hope to accomplish as Pharaoh what he had unsuccessfully struggled to achieve as the regent of Rameses. Rameses was over seventy when his career ended. Thus Egypt was at the mercy of two old men when she needed a vigorous ruler.

Meneptah’s reign was overshadowed by the constant barbarian raids, which degraded the Egyptian morale and allowed chaos to sweep the country.

Holders of this symbol were engaged in much the same occupations as those mentioned in the reign of Rameses until chaotic conditions brought with them their usual accompaniment—unemployment. Then many of the Egyptians, and among them holders of this symbol, fled to Syria to make a fresh start in life or to chase that will-o’-the-wisp security.

These people must cultivate flexibility and self-assurance. Their essential self is stored with the knowledge of a great period, which meditation (sanely conducted) might reveal to them.

*  *  *

From the 22nd of May until the 28th the symbol is the Strawberry Leaf. It denotes a calm exterior hiding passionate emotions. The holders of this symbol are practical and businesslike, while loving luxury, colour and gaiety. They are introspective and inclined to dream about what they would like to do. Desire for work and indolence exist side by side. If these people can keep their minds aroused they can accomplish much; but mental (and physical) inactivity is their stumbling-block. As teachers they should do well, for once having learned a subject they know how to apply their knowledge. Others are inclined to listen to their suggestions—and if their motives are not good they can cause a lot of trouble. They should beware of taking advantage of others. Wrong-doing will recoil on them, for their lesson in this existence is to use their power constructively.

Their previous lives in Athens in Solon’s time saw much the same upheaval as we are watching to-day. The money standard was being changed to assist the debtors, the people were being divided into four classes according to their income, a council of four hundred was being convened to administer the needs of the people, and Solon was defending the Oracle in much the same way as certain ecclesiastics of to-day are trying to defend or resuscitate our waning Christianity.

Solon, the famous law-giver of Athens, was a political genius. He created a constitution for governing the people which could be used to-day to advantage. He had—what so many of our present politicians lack—balance. In spite of being an enthusiast who wanted to take the wealth from the rich and give it to the poor, he was not an extremist. He realized that no remedy for the distress of the people could be found by allowing one class to control another. This wisdom has been lost sight of in the world to-day. Solon did not permit the plebs to bring their prejudice and hatred to the control of the aristocrats. He knew that making the aristocrats suffer for the sins of the plebs would accomplish nothing, so he divided the people into four classes, imposing certain duties upon each class. The three highest provided the army of Attica, while the fourth provided the galley-rowers for the navy. The first class managed the offices of state. The second and third were eligible for minor offices; and the fourth, while not admitted to office, was allowed to sit in the Assembly and to elect the public magistrates and to criticize or to pass sentence on the conduct of these officials at the end of their year of government.

Holders of this symbol belonged to these four classes in Athens.

It was the injustice of the law of debt which inspired Solon to form his constitution. He knew it was greed and the desire for gain which was keeping the poor in such desperate straits. He knew that the poorer citizens were being sold as slaves to foreign countries.

He placed a limit on the accumulation of land, and the person of a debtor was safe whatever his obligations. Mortgaged lands were restored to the people and debts were cancelled. He instituted a popular court of law the members of which were drawn from every class. The object of this court was to see that judicial supremacy should not go too far in the interests of the aristocrats. Freedom was given in bequeathing property.

Luxury was severely dealt with, and women’s dress was regulated by the government; which decided that three changes of clothing sufficed for a woman. The tremendous expense of funerals was regulated and wailing at them was forbidden.

Solon’s graceful distribution of power paved the way for democracy in Greece. He insisted that men should be equal before his goddess of justice. This was a mistake. Men can never be equal, for each soul enters the world with the burden of its previous deeds. Equality would demand an equal start, and this is impossible. But Solon’s constitution allowed men and women to progress and to see the flaws in greed and selfishness. No doubt many of the people resented his system and secretly longed to assert their personal power. These are they who must to-day guard against forcing their will upon others unless they are sure their motives are good. Personal force, when imprisoned, longs for expression. When the expression, as in Solon’s case, is for the good of others, it makes for universal progress; but personal will shooting off in every direction to seek individual gain delays and hinders the soul in its development.

On this Athenian stage, where economic and religious reforms were being enacted, the holders of this symbol played various parts according to their classes. Some were sold as slaves to foreign countries. Many of these unfortunate ones were brought back to Athens by Solon’s reforms and by his stirring poetry, which, in no gentle language, denounced a law which permitted citizens to be sold into slavery. Men who had trembled before masters suddenly became free men. This act of Solon’s engendered in the hearts of the freed men either defiance against past conditions or thankfulness. Neither of these emotions ennobles the soul. One breeds revenge and the other slays initiative. People of this symbol have much to learn about human values.

*  *  *

From the 29th of May until the 4th of June the symbol is the Raven and the Serpent. It denotes people whose minds are never at rest. They are inclined to rush headlong into things without using their judgment. They think a lot about profitable ends to their activity; but, being so impulsive, results do not plan out as expected. They have discrimination and purpose, but they are often inclined to be erratic and even rash. They are not good judges of other people. At some period in their lives they will change completely. If kind and considerate in early life, they become with the passing of years self-centred and difficult; but if their early life has been troubled and unhappy, their later days may be quite serene. They are young souls who in past incarnations came often to the cross-roads wondering which direction to follow. Once they conquer their desire madly to rush into new experiences they can undertake almost any business or profession. This symbol always refers to emotional conflict.

Formerly they lived in England in the reign of Henry III. Henry’s reign was one of the longest and one of the most troubled in English history. It consisted of nearly forty years of misgovernment, several years of foolish extravagance and civil war, and the remainder a fade-out of petty bickerings, deceit and broken promises. Like many men whose middle age has been tragic (or pathetic), Henry had an unfortunate start. When he came to the throne, a mere child, he had no relative to turn to for advice. His mother had abandoned him to return to France and marry her former lover.

Pope Honorius, the then feudal superior, declared himself guardian for the orphan, and commanded Gualo to watch over the child’s safety. In time Gualo returned to Rome leaving his young charge in the care of Pandulf, who with the Earl of Pembroke, Hubert de Burgh and the Bishop of Winchester looked after the young king. These guardians were rivals. Soon trouble started between the barons and the people, breeding insubordination which resented legitimate authority.

The king, who detested the English, found his antipathy encouraged by the French who crowded the court. His reign is a long siege of resistance against his parliament. His comedy of errors was played against a background of French intrigue, terrifying barons, who came to Westminster on one occasion in complete armour with rattling swords, and wars in which he took no interest. Like a naughty boy, he would promise anything to get money to spend as he wished. That he never kept his promises did not worry him in the least. He was devout and he could boast of domestic virtues, which in his mind overcame broken promises and lapses of judgment.

He tried all sorts of dodges to get money: one was to form a Crusade and search for the tomb of Christ. Parliament heard this offer with contempt, knowing that it was but a ruse to obtain money.

Holders of this symbol were the barons, the soldiers and the people of Henry’s time. They were not the French, whom the king banished to please the English when he wanted money and called back when he had received it. Their lives, if insecure, were never dull. No one knew what Henry was going to do next. While his extravagance and double-dealing let the country down, he kept his people amused.

When the barons took up arms and threatened him, he assumed the role of penitent; but when they put their arms down he tried to sell his country to Spain. Wars went on between the barons and the king’s party. Then his mother added to his unpopularity by forcing him into war with the French. Even when Leicester took him prisoner he arranged his plots against opposition from his place of captivity.

Being a ward of the Pope (the Pope’s word was still law in the king’s affairs), he did not remain long in captivity. He was restored to power, or rather to his misrule. He made his foreign wife’s uncles ministers, earls and bishops. After he had managed to place these in-laws, his mother, with a touch of unconscious humour, sent over the four sons she had had by her former lover (then her husband) to be provided for in England. Henry opened his purse to his half-brothers and later heaped honours upon them. Again he found himself without money or credit, but being used to this state, he waited until he could think of some way further to extract money from the barons. His circumstances, like a shuttle, constantly wove from bankruptcy to affluence during the fifty-six years of his reign.

As a subject he might have been respectable and quite harmless; but as a king he was a tragedy. Always irresolute, lavish rather than generous, given to self-indulgence and ill-temper, he was weak, hasty, imprudent and changeable, as are all people who are too emotional. To exaggerate all his faults he had that feminine persistency—that determination to do as he liked without the slightest regard to consequences—which in a certain type of man takes the place of masculinity.

Wearers of this symbol must often have felt discouraged under such a ruler. They never knew which was in power, his party or the barons. But this symbol does not indicate economic hardship, although it denotes uncertainty and delay. The daily lives of these people were not unhappy, but the uselessness of planning for the future must have occurred to them. It is difficult for them to plan ahead in this life; but it is fear which keeps them from venturing. This is the reason they dream of what they would like to do instead of doing it—or they rush headlong into something without due consideration.

June

The symbol for this week, the 5th of June until the 11th, is a Draped Female Figure Holding the Moon in its Outstretched Hand. It denotes lack of caution and method. Opportunity is constantly overtaking the wearers of this symbol, but they do not seem to recognize it. They are easily disappointed, but their ambition keeps them striving for results. They love luxury, comfort and adornment; and they are inclined to be interested in the effect of things. While emotional and self-indulgent, these people seldom become mentally affected. Their intuition often warns them of what is about to happen, but they do not always heed their intuition. These are they who must learn that only what is put into life can be drawn out of it; and being impressionable they must avoid copying the traits of others. This symbol is often prominent in the charts of mediums and clairvoyants.

It related to Egypt in the reign of the Mamelukes. History usually refers to these slave-kings as a tribe of disorderly soldiers who managed to hold the country by the sword and by intrigue. It is true that the most powerful man took the throne and held it just so long as he kept his following.

The first of these slave-kings slew Sultan Turan and seized his government. Turan was the last Ayyubid sultan. The Mamelukes then set up their own men, Emir Eibek being the first of their sultans. This was in 1250, from which year until the Ottoman conquest in 1517 Egypt and Syria were ruled exclusively by the slave-kings. There were forty-eight in all. Some retained the throne but a few years, and some but a few months. History does not usually mention that, with all their excesses, they were the greatest men who ruled Egypt since the Pharaohs. Their postal service, naval and military organizations and legal code were well in advance of their time. They built beautiful mosques, founded institutions for the education of the people, expressed their taste in ivory reliefs, woodcarving, enamelled glass, stone and plaster work, mosaics and fine embroideries. They patronized art and literature.

To occupy the throne was their obsession. Each kept a body-guard and each was ready to fight his way to the throne should the slightest occasion offer. The streets of Cairo were sometimes scenes of bloody conflict and the dark passages of the Citadel saw many assassinations as they waged their mad war for the possession of the throne.

Wearers of this symbol have seen the Mamelukes mounted on the finest Arabian horses tearing out across the desert to repulse the Crusaders in Palestine—their plumed turbans waving in the air, their gold-embroidered military dress glittering in the sun, their weapons hanging from the sides of their horses. Other wearers of this sign have seen Napoleon form his infantry in squares to receive them, while they charged forward with horrible yells and terrific speed. These wearers saw the Mamelukes’ first defeat. They saw this magnificent cavalry overcome by the French. At first they could not believe what was happening, for this so-called invincible body had struck terror into the hearts of the people wherever the religion of Islam prevailed. Some of these brave slaves swam the Nile and escaped into Syria. The bodies of those who were drowned were fished out of the river by the French soldiers, for the Mamelukes always carried large sums of gold when they rushed into battle.

Their final end came in 1811, when they were massacred in the Citadel by the order of Mohammed Aly Pasha, whose family still occupies the throne of Egypt. One Mameluke, Amin Bey, escaped from the doom of his fellow slaves by making his horse leap from the Old Palace of Mohammed Aly over the battlements of the Citadel.

While the Mamelukes were pursuing the throne, the holders of this symbol were attending to their daily duties. The agriculturists were planting and harvesting their fields of barley, which they irrigated with the shadoof. Craftsmen were making the intricately carved furniture, the plaster-work and the mosaics. Goldsmiths were making the jewellery, artists were carving the ivory and the wood and drawing the designs for the enamelled glass. The fellaheen were ploughing with a camel yoked with an ox, as they had ploughed before in another age; bazaar merchants were bargaining before their shops, servants were hurrying to do the bidding of their masters.

In the evening they all knelt, the rich on their mats, the poor on the sand, and prayed into the golden eye of the sun, for violence, lust, passion, money-grabbing and bartering all ceased in the hour of prayer. Passion never changed in quality. The same force was brought to prayer as was used to drive a bargain in the bazaar. The muezzin would stand on the minaret, his figure outlined against the setting sun, while he told the kneeling men below that God is great, that there is no one but God. Sounds would come to them as they prayed; the scarlet note of a bugle or a trickle of music through a flute.

The women reared their children or prepared meals for their husbands. If their husbands (or the men in whose harem they lived) were wealthy, they did little but enter the perfumed bath and submit to the make-up women and the masseuses. All women were veiled. The wealthy rode in carriages. The women of the people walked in the streets dressed in long black robes, black lace veils covering their faces. These were the ones who knew Egypt intimately. They stood in the trembling magic of the atmosphere and watched colour become sterile in a country where nothing pale exists, where light catches everything up into a primrose haze on which the very air seems to rest as if hypnotized. In the evenings they would go down to the River, the seductive Nile, and fill water jars, which they would carry home on their heads. These Mohammedan Rebeccas would gossip at the river as another Rebecca gossiped at the well, while goats and sheep passed along in dusty processions and donkeys trotted home after their day of work. There was a different scene then worked by the magician who changed the brilliant glare to an ethereal dusk of orange and purple which hid the dull poverty of the day, as the sun prepared for its eternal resurrection like a soul fulfilling its destiny. Soon the squalid huts of the poorer classes would be plated by the moonlight into little shining treasures.

There were women of another and ancient class who waited in dark alleys under low-browed doors. They wore flimsy gauze and barbaric jewels. Music, feverish and compelling, came from the houses behind them.

Holders of this symbol were once these men and women of Egypt who watched with indifference as one Mameluke after another occupied the throne. Beauty was then of some value to the world, for it had not been completely ousted by progress.

Some of the old buildings of the Mamelukes are still to be seen in Egypt. They are near the tombs of the Mamelukes. They have forgotten how to die. Their haggard facades show deep lines of pain. They crumble a little more every year. They have lost their grip on the worm-eaten shutters which once hid a little of their misery. No one will strike them down until the space they occupy is wanted.

*  *  *

The symbol which operates this week, from the 12th of June until the 18th, is the Tragic Mask. If we believed in Fate we might say that the forces were against people holding this symbol. But we know that each of us controls his own destiny. These people have brought over a load of karmic debt from the past. They possess remarkable understanding and they are able to cope with all sorts of experiences. They are very psychic and usually their advice is worth having. In spite of their karmic debt, life always gives them a second chance. They form quick decisions, but they are inclined to shun responsibility. Their subtlety usually sees them through a difficult situation. They often do two things at once, thus distributing their mind instead of bringing the entire force of it to the task in hand. Business of a quick-moving nature or some artistic occupation should be suitable for them. In the dim past this symbol relates to Atlantis; but it also relates to France in the time of Louis XIV and Louis XV.

French civilization reached its highest point in the reign of Louis XIV. In spite of the wars which followed each other with little time between them, it was a great age. Great men were establishing art and literature. Louis had only to support them and give their works his patronage. The genius of Richelieu, Corneille and Descartes called to the thinkers and inspired them.

In 1635 Richelieu founded the French Academy to perfect the language and to criticize literature. It was his idea to give royal patronage to art. Before his time royalty was not so concerned with intellectual matters. He did not believe that liberal education was for everyone. He encouraged the largest number of families to prepare their children for trade. In this he was right—and wrong; for subordination substituted for previous independence increased the importance of the court rather to the detriment of the people. It became the government. No expense was spared to add to its grandeur. If it did nothing else it gave men of genius a chance to direct society and to patronize art. The society which surrounded Louis was the flower of Europe. Conversation was an art. Women took part in the movement. Madame de Sevigne has left her appreciation of the brilliance with which Louis surrounded himself.

It has been said that if the French literature of the seventeenth century was lost and found again by the coming races of the future, they might think they had found the work of a people who had revived the Greek standards—so graceful is it. The coming people would not know that the French of Louis’s time were steeped in their own ideas, that they were not concerned with other civilizations. They produced a literature which reached the utmost of sophistication and a literature as simple as a peasant woman’s prayer.

Certain holders of this symbol helped to produce that literature, especially the drama. Others could be found in the theatre—that pulpit which combines art and religion. Still others gave their minds to science, for the seventeenth century was one of the great ages in science. It saw the beginning of analytical geometry and of the infinitesimal calculus. Astronomy strode forward followed by acoustics, optics and the researches on plant life. Men of this symbol who were doctors in France knew that anatomy and physiology made great progress.

Women of this sign studied art, literature and the technique of love. Beauty culture was pursued by them. Those who possessed charm (which can never be acquired) cultivated it, and often used it to advantage when dealing with men. Many had salons which were crowded with the intellectuals and the artists of the day. Some controlled politics from behind the scenes, and others openly espoused various causes.

Not all the holders of this symbol belonged to this Olympus where Louis was the god. Many were in the ranks of the people who followed Richelieu’s idea and took up trade. These traders sometimes became quite wealthy. This sign also belongs to farmers and to the women who helped them in the fields.

Louis lived seventy-seven years and he governed for fifty-four. Gangrene in his leg caused his “death.” The gangrene had extended to France. She also was soon to decay.

When passing on Louis told Madame de Maintenon that he hoped to meet her in eternity. We wonder if Madame was so eager to meet him again, or if she welcomed the release from a personality she had strove for over thirty years to interest. Louis’s mind was more active than resourceful and there must have been times when Madame felt weary and exhausted.

Louis XV said that the monarchy would last his time, so he did little to arrest its decline. He could have done little had he tried to bolster it up, for a cyclic change was inevitable. The acts of everyone, the king, the clergy, the nobles, the ministers and especially the authors had combined to hasten the change. Louis XV lacked the dignity of his great predecessor. He was dissolute and weak and mentally interested in sex, which in itself is a form of degeneracy.

The Church, seeing how things were, decided to control the situation. It allowed the people neither liberty of speech nor of writing. It placed obstacles in the way of enlightenment.

Voltaire poured forth his volumes and attacked the Church. New principles of conduct, independent of religion, appeared. Rousseau and Diderot joined Voltaire, and the philosophers conquered while Madame de Pompadour came to govern Louis and France. Her boudoir became the council chamber where she appointed generals and bishops.

This bourgeois woman, without opinions of her own, knew how to choose the best from the opinions of others. She was persistent, self-confident, selfish and calculating. Being incapable of enthusiasm, she could pretend any emotion. This is where cold natures always have the advantage. This trait enabled her to hold the king by habit long after her charms had faded. With the wisdom of the serpent she kept intelligent women away from him and permitted him to have only those who catered for his lust. She was a procuress whose misdeeds were hidden under finesse and intrigue.

When she was young she filled the king’s whole existence. When she grew older she retreated from boredom behind an army of young girls, whose minds Louis set himself to improve, while they awaited the pleasure of subscribing to his desires. Dowries and marriages hurried their departure, when a new regiment advanced. While this was going on Madame de Pompadour was pulling the political wires.

It was not only the debaucheries which made Louis incapable of ruling. He had that peculiar egoism which disdains any sort of knowledge. There are many like him to-day, who rush from distraction to distraction belittling the people who could expose their ignorance.

Holders of this symbol who lived in the reign of Louis XV have brought over more karmic debt than they who lived in the reign of Louis XIV. There was less incentive to study and the inclination to drift through life was encouraged. In many cases vanity was a spur which drove men and women on to the accomplishment of something.

As in the former reign, women tried to fascinate men, but with physical charm rather than intelligence. Women who had to make their living were the fortunate ones. They became dressmakers and embroiderers, for it was an age of magnificent clothes. The Pompadour encouraged the manufacture of porcelain, which gave occupation to many artists and craftsmen.

The prisons were well filled, and no doubt many holders of this symbol spent some time in the French prisons, for it was necessary only to write and circulate some verses about Louis and the Pompadour to be condemned without hesitation and cast into prison.

Certain holders of this sign lingered on until Du Barry came to rule the king after the passing of the Pompadour, but this symbol is concerned mostly with the early days of Louis’s reign, not with the eve of the Revolution.

*  *  *

The symbol for this week, the 19th of June until the 25th, is a Square enclosing Two Keys. It denotes people who are indifferent to danger because they feel equal to any occasion. Their courage is of a high order; but they are inclined to take risks which are not necessary. They are old souls and they have, in past lives, been distinguished by mental excellence. In their memory (if only they could tap it) is all they need for achieving success in their present existence. These people should never be judged by appearances. Their inner power increases with each life, but their destiny may be a strange one. Prophets and statesmen have this sign prominent in their charts, but while it is a symbol of one of the higher degrees, it is also a test symbol. Wearers of it will be tested by adversity and disappointment. Women holding it should cultivate discretion. In the past it relates to Venice in that period known as the Dark Age.

Venice, the Island Republic, was formerly subject to continental Venetia, the parent city on the mainland. From this city it received its magistrates, who governed the Islands. This arrangement became irksome to the stalwart men who had settled on the Islands—which were really nothing more than marshes called Lagune.

Seeing how successfully the dukes had managed the other Italian cities, they decided to elect a chief magistrate who would have jurisdiction over all the Islands. This man was called a doge (duke). Few holders of this symbol lived at the time this doge was elected, but as the symbol refers to the latter part of his reign it is necessary to describe him. The Venetians were fortunate in their choice of this doge, whom they established in 991. Pietro Orseolo II was a great man. The first thing he did was to punish men for quarrelling. Quarrelsome people who could not pay their fine in gold were put to death. Having shown that they could not trifle with such a dictator as he meant to be, he occupied himself with the government and prosperity of the republic. He and the other dukes who followed him had the power to appoint tribunes and judges and to control all ecclesiastic and private matters. These early Venetians had to dispute their rights with the Franks, the Lombards, the German Emperors and the pirates. In the early days they took up arms only in defence. They were a discriminating people, inclined to moderation and peace. But commerce was to attract them and to sow the seeds of greed, jealousy and domination.

The Doge decided to engage the rest of the world in commerce. Being clever as he was severe, he reduced port dues on foreign merchandise and sent presents and lofty words to Eastern rulers with whom he wished to trade. He sent the products of the surrounding mainlands across the world. Wearers of this symbol sailed in his ships and saw the Near and the Middle East. Situated as he was between two empires, the Doge knew how to resist one and how to make himself necessary to the other. So sturdy did he become that all the nations which had settled on the surrounding coasts asked his help against the pirates. Men of this symbol who were soldiers in Venice followed the pirates to their shores and conquered them.

The Doge built hospitals and schools. His father had rebuilt the Church of St. Mark at his own expense as a monument to St. Mark the evangelist, whose body the Venetians had transported from Alexandria.

The noble families became wealthy through the medium of commerce. In the passing of time the republic grew and expanded. It acquired the islands of the Ionian and Aegean Seas, part of Greece, the city of Adrianople, the island of Candia and a colony at Constantinople. Most of the islands of the Aegean archipelago were granted in fief to ten noble families of Venice, and for several centuries these islands were controlled by members of these families. Certain holders of this symbol once belonged to those ten noble families.

With patience and extreme cleverness the nobility made itself the civic power. The Doge had to share his authority with these illustrious citizens who had artfully encroached upon it. In time 480 men governed the republic. These men were named annually on the last day of September, by twelve tribunes. As it was permitted to re-name the same men, the aristocrats saw to it that they were habitually re-elected, and when they passed on their children usually took their places.

Like another great Venetian traveller, Marco Polo, many men of this sign were extensive travellers. Others attended to the trade at home. Architects, legal men, the clergy and artists are represented by this symbol. The women of that time were interested in their homes, in religion, in music; but seldom in politics. Their lives were rather restricted, as man’s word was law in everything. These people lived in one of the prosperous periods of the Dark Ages. Life was not impoverished by the economic conditions. In their present existence many of them are learning that economic conditions can be very difficult. They must realize that nothing remains. The good moves along with the bad, as clouds move across the sky. When they are depressed they are inclined to overlook this fact and when everything is rosy they forget to prepare for the time when the light fades.

July

The symbol which operates from the 26th of June until the 2nd of July is a Woman Kneeling before a Pagan Altar. The wearers of this symbol are adaptable, changeable and versatile. They are inclined to say more than they mean. Their lives are full of little escapes: the escape from responsibility, from prudence, from facing facts. They are good companions, always interesting. Women of this symbol are always very attractive to men. Both sexes are creative; but their creative ability is apt to be dormant. It takes either shock or happiness to bring out the best in them. They have considerable manual skill.

In the past many of them were goldsmiths and woodcarvers. Advertising appeals to them in their present existences, especially if they were born early in the morning. They should avoid extravagance and try to cultivate their latent powers. This symbol always calls for restraint.

It relates to Florence before and after the great plague which swept over Europe in 1348. This frightful scourge, which originated in the Far East, advanced rapidly over the Western world and almost annihilated Florence. For many years the city had been the victim of misfortune. Wars, poverty, famines, floods, sickness, fires and revolutions had weakened her physically and morally. Immediately before the visitation of the plague constant rains, sometimes accompanied by earthquakes, had ruined the harvests. There were few grapes and fewer olives; thus wine and oil were in the hands of profiteers. The Arno burst into torrents and swamped the greater part of the city. Bridges and banks were torn asunder and most districts were ravaged by the swirling waters. The corn crops failed, poultry and cattle perished from lack of food. The peasants had to abandon their farms and beg in the streets. No land could be tilled unless the owners of it could guarantee remuneration and food for the labourers. As this guarantee was impossible except in a few cases, the land was neglected. Other free cities of Italy were in almost the same condition, so the Florentines could not procure food from them.

Into this devastated and disheartened city the plague advanced, in spite of the pathetic offerings made in the churches for three consecutive days to avert the pestilence. There was no cure for the malady. The bodies of the people perished by the thousands.

People who imagined that moderate living and isolation could resist the scourge shut themselves up in their houses, eating very little and refusing to see anyone.

Others who felt that the end was inevitable decided to spend their last days in carousal. They satisfied every gross appetite while mocking and ridiculing religion. They chased from one tavern to another, abandoning their possessions; but in spite of their brutish sensuality they kept away from the sick and “dying,” refusing to do anything for them, so determined were they to postpone their meeting with the disease as long as possible.

People who took the middle course and wandered about the streets, neither seeking nor shunning the afflicted, carried flowers or spices in their hands which they constantly applied to their nostrils to overcome the stench of “death” and disease.

Immense fortunes were willed to public charities by the “dying.” More than 350,000 florins were left in trust for the poor. Valuables, money and houses abounded with no one to claim them. They had been the property of the nobles.

Before the plague appeared female relatives had wailed in front of the houses of their deceased kinsmen. Male relatives had seen to the funerals in their families with pomp and music. But the plague had stopped all acts of kindness for the “dead.” The Pope offered rewards to the priests who would deliver the Last Sacrament. But only in few cases were these rewards sufficiently attractive. Thousands of people “died” without any witness, the stench of their carcasses giving the first notice of their expiring.

Many holders of this symbol perished from the plague. They knew the horror of passing from an incarnation without a friend to minister to their last needs. But these dismal terminations were better than physical survival.

Suddenly the heat of the August sun sent the plague flying before it. It left Florence as suddenly as it had come, taking poverty with it. The remnant of humanity was left with its accumulated inheritances. The city was a huge storehouse of treasure. There was more wealth than people to use it. Instead of being subdued and thankful, the survivors turned to a life of debauchery. Nobody worked. Nobody studied. Both men and women engaged in licentious revels. They dressed in the richest garments and the streets became scenes of daily carnival. With poverty had gone pride and decency and the weight of government. Passions had a free course. There was nothing to stop the indulgence of them. Because the answer to every desire appeared spontaneously, these mad survivors expected this life of pleasure to continue for ever.

But, as always, reaction followed. Magistrates appeared with corrective laws. Government again came into its own. Colleges were founded and professors were appointed. A decree appeared forbidding citizens to buy or sell on credit. A check was placed on all expenses. Art, which had been driven into some obscure limbo, reappeared and claimed its followers. Literature forced the writers to take up their previously discarded pens. The path was cleared for the coming of the Renaissance.

Wearers of this symbol who survived the plague and engaged in those mad saturnalia built up a heavy karmic debt, which they are paying in their present existence. Some of them saw the end of the cycle of pleasure and the re-establishment of sanity. Certain of them gave their money to the Misericordia, an Order founded at the eleventh hour to look after the sick. (If the Misericordia did little in the last days of the plague, it has certainly justified its existence in the years that have followed.)

Wearers of this sign pursued various careers before the plague devastated Florence. They were artists, financiers, magistrates, writers, agriculturists and metal workers. Most of them possess some special ability which they can re-find by probing the depths of their inner natures.

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The symbol for the week beginning on the 3rd of July and ending on the 9th is the Mace. The wearers of this symbol are hasty in judgment and variable of mood. Their minds are easily diverted from the course they should pursue. On the surface they are very carefree, but actually they are deep ones; but their deeps are concerned with the unusual, the strange. Any undertaking depending upon magnetic power should appeal to them. They have the knack of gaining people’s confidence, and they are often very stimulating. They are constantly longing for something they haven’t got. If they could cultivate indifference many of their desires would be realized, for this symbol is very contrary and it is inclined to give that which is not sought. It can be said, of these people that they are never too old to learn, and sometimes in late life success, which has delayed all along the line, suddenly and unexpectedly overtakes them.

It relates to Scotland in the days of Wallace—from 1286 to 1305.

Scotland at that time was the scene of continuous warfare. Edward I of England had succeeded, after many battles, in getting Scotland under his control. Edward was one of the most subtle politicians of his time—in fact, of any time. Like the Arabs, he never mentioned what he was going to do until he was ready to do it—and then his left hand never knew what his right was doing.

He let the Scots see that submitting to his dictation was better than exposing their country to the arms of England. The nobility of Scotland therefore admitted his claim as overlord, and he examined the candidates who stepped forward to assert their right to govern Scotland.

He divined that John Baliol would be easy prey to his Machiavellian tactics, so he granted him the Scottish crown, to be held by him and his successors. The Scottish castles were then surrendered to Baliol.

No sooner was Baliol placed in office than Edward began to humiliate him in the English courts of law. He could keep peace with his imperious master only by yielding to all of Edward’s demands. Driven to desperation, he formed a secret treaty with France and started rabble armies racing through the counties disregarding all rules of warfare: pillaging and subjecting their victims wherever they felt so inclined.

The Scottish nobles realized that something should be done to resist the demands of the English overlord, but they refused to allow Baliol to undertake the preparations, considering him weak and unsteady.

Edward, to quell the disturbance in Scotland, advanced with a large army. Thousands of defenceless inhabitants were slain in the attacks made on the Scottish towns. Seeing how useless opposition was, the Scottish nobles of the south joined with the king, each one secretly wishing that he might take Baliol’s place.

The English army continued its unresisted march as far as Aberdeen. Baliol was brought before the king, stripped of his royal robes and made to confess his feudal transgression. Holders of this symbol were the nobles and the people of Scotland. Some fought for Edward; others for Baliol.

After Baliol’s confession Edward received the submission of the Scots. He then created John Warrenne, Earl of Surrey, the guardian of Scotland. He placed English governors and garrisons in the Scottish castles and returned to England.

Not satisfied with this victory, he sought to destroy all evidence of national independence. He decided that posterity must never know that Scotland had once been free. He carried to England the crown and sceptre surrendered by Baliol and even the sacred stone on which the Scottish monarchs were placed when they received the royal inauguration. He presented the stone and the trophies to Westminster Cathedral. This stone was brought from Ireland by Fergus, the son of Eric. It is the symbol of Scotland, and prophecy says that wherever it is found the Scots must reign. It is preserved as the support of the chair of King Edward the Confessor. Prophecy is not always right—and sometimes it is long delayed.

Edward’s destruction of the Scottish records has forced the ancient families of Scotland to trace their ancestors in the parchment which constitutes the belittling roll of submission—called the Ragman Roll.

The subjection of a proud nation was not easily dismissed from the mind of William Wallace, the second son of a knight of small estate. Young Wallace was hasty and violent in his passions. His hatred of the English was as fierce as Napoleon’s. A crowd of indignant young men gathered round his eloquence as he shouted for Scottish rights. While Wallace was organizing these men an English sheriff killed the woman he loved. Wallace slew the sheriff. This placed a price on his head, and he was obliged to hide in the woods and mountains. His companions, a band of plundering outlaws, soon sought him out.

Having a talent for generalship, he united these desperate men under his command and it was not long before he found himself at the head of an army.

Barons joined his revolt, but they were not content to serve one who had neither high birth nor extensive estates. This was not the first time that false values interfered with victory. The barons deserted, but their retainers remained.

Wallace now openly declared war on the English. The people loved him and looked upon him as their deliverer. Everyone knows the strategy he used in his engagement with the English at Stirling. This gave him complete victory, and suddenly he found himself in the possession of Scotland; but the barons still professed their lukewarm allegiance to the English king. Undismayed, Wallace threatened with “death” all who disobeyed his call to join the army. But his star was beginning to wane, while Edward’s was in the ascendant. He was overcome by Edward at Falkirk and Edward’s victory forced him back to the wilds of his mountain retreat.

For long he eluded the pursuit of his enemies, but his own people betrayed him. Naturally he was found guilty of everything laid to his charge and he was executed. The disposal of his remains was horrible for all who had to witness it, but futile for those who sought revenge.

He was a patriot, one of the few the world has known. He was destitute of ambition, having not the faintest desire to seize the crown or to seize anything for himself. No so-called nobleman of his time dared to champion with him the independence of Scotland.

Holders of this symbol fought under this great man. Some remained loyal to him. Others betrayed him. Little besides war and violence engaged the Scots at that time. The work necessary to maintain the country was done, but the workers were constantly harassed by the outlaws. Religion, which made desperate efforts, was powerless.

The crowning of Robert Bruce did little to stop the wars between England and Scotland. But as time went on Bruce proved that his wife—who told him when he obtained sovereign rank that he was a summer king, but that he would scarce be a winter one—was wrong. Certain holders of this symbol who had been loyal to Wallace enlisted with Bruce and followed him to triumph.

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The symbol for this week, the 10th of July to the 16th, is the Crescent Moon. It denotes people of discerning and retentive minds. Their keen vision sees through deception and fraud. They should pay attention to their dreams; for dreams may reveal previous experiences. Some of these people are quite psychic and should be able to foretell events. They are either extremely emotional or very practical—practical even in love. They are quite capable of bearing responsibility, but they are not too eager to accept it. The gift of expression belongs to this sign. Poets and writers of fiction have it prominently placed in their charts. Art, philosophy and intellectual pursuits appeal to these people. In general they have considerable manual ability. A very strong character is apt to be hidden under their tact and natural grace.

It relates to the Theban Kingdom in Egypt. The history of civilization is the history of cities. No nation has ever become great without an important city. We follow civilization into Athens, Jerusalem, Babylon, Nineveh, Tyre and Sardis rather than into the countries where these cities once stood. The founding of a city or the shifting of government from one city to another has meant a new epoch in the life of nations. When Egyptian authority was transferred from Memphis to Thebes it meant the beginning of a new era in Egyptian history.

Wearers of this symbol lived in Thebes in the Twelfth Dynasty, which lasted 213 years. They lived in the reigns of Amenemhat and his son (who was also his co-regent), Usertsen I; Amenemhat II, who was co-regent with his father Usertsen I; Usertsen II; Amenemhat III; and Amenemhat IV. Under these kings Egypt became very prosperous.

Looking back on her achievements after a lapse of four thousand years, and studying her system of agriculture, her engineering, her army, her art and her architecture, we wonder if progress has made such great strides as we are led to believe. It would not hurt us to refind her love of industry and her knowledge of putting simple beauty into large structures. Only the Americans know the secret of putting beauty into mass—and they learned how to do it in Egypt, in the Memphis kingdom, the kingdom which built the great pyramids.

The Theban kingdom, in which holders of this symbol lived, saw the enlargement of the boundaries of Thebes; the hordes of barbarians dispersed; Nubia conquered; the valley of the Nile, from the First Cataract to the Fourth, colonized; the creation of canals and their own city, together with towns like Heliopolis, Tanis and many others adorned with fine buildings. Beyond the boundaries of their possessions lay the open desert, awe-inspiring, mysterious.

Sometimes emigrants from Syria and Palestine would arrive in Thebes wearing strange costumes and bearing tales of the countries beyond the desert; Occasionally the Egyptians made bas-reliefs of these emigrants, depicting the fringed materials of their costumes. Whatever wonder these people inspired in the Thebans, it must have been as nothing to the visitors’ astonishment when they saw the Labyrinth and Lake Moeris, which the Thebans had extended along the coast of Egypt. This lake the Thebans made very deep and they erected two pyramids in the centre of it. It was not supplied by springs, but communicated with the Nile by a secret channel. During six months of the year the Nile water flowed into this lake. The remaining six months the lake emptied itself into the Nile. The money which the fishery of the lake produced was given to the queen to supply her with clothes and perfumes.

Wearers of this symbol were the soldiers, agriculturists, the engineers, the artists and the architects of ancient Thebes. Others were priests and priestesses in the temples. Still others were the embalmers, for Thebes gave much time to the cult of the dead.

The women of Thebes attended to their household duties and the rearing of their children. They worshipped Amun-Ra, Mut and Khuns in the temples on the banks of the Nile. They also worshipped the toilet god, for woman has always been interested in her appearance.

The longing to visit Punt, the sacred country, was the dream of the Thebans, as it had been the dream of the earlier kingdoms. Punt was a distant country rich in ebony and incense, precious metals and stones and valuable balsams. Winged creatures sat on the boughs of incense trees singing to the gods who dwelt in Punt.

The gods Amen and Horus and the goddess Hathor had come to the Nile valley from the sacred land of Punt—or so the Egyptians believed.

Ships were sent out to find this heavenly land, but it was not the coast of Arabia, as many people think. It was the Yemen and Hydramaut, where some day archaeologists will find a missing portion of Egyptian history. Tombs will yet be discovered in these regions which will throw some light on the remotely prehistoric times.

Now the palms grow in Luxor (Thebes) where the houses of the holders of this symbol once stood. The lateen-sails come up the Nile like great white birds, the boats under them bearing merchandise to Upper Egypt. The minarets of another religion arise against the sun. But the remains of the Colossi of Thebes still sit on the plain looking across the river. The temple of Amun, built fifteen hundred years before Christ by Amenemhat III, refuses entirely to disappear from its ancient site. In spite of Christian fury, which smashed its shrines and defaced its bas-reliefs, as enraged fanaticism always destroys beauty in the name of God, it defies time and changing religions. It still exhales the essence of vanished grandeur, of achievement, of love and laughter and of the peace of another day.

If the holders of this symbol could visit it at night, when all sounds are hushed but the voice of the Nile, the past might materialize before them. The life of their ancient city might be seen, with the Theban flags waving on the buildings, and their former companions passing in and out of the temples of the moon god.

Scenes and sounds have their dimensions, as has every other thing in the universe. Nothing that has existed is ever lost. We shall yet photograph the scenes of the past, and when we do there will be nothing mysterious about the achievement.

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The symbol for this week, the 17th to the 23rd of July, is a Woman Standing on a Serpent. Travel and change constantly beckon to people of this symbol—and this in spite of their love of home. Duty often keeps them at home while their minds climb inaccessible peaks. They are fond of ostentation and appearances mean much to them. They are impulsive, impatient and inclined to be irritable. Intuition is usually given to this sign. The mind is original and sometimes quite creative. Schemers and plausible talkers may play upon the emotions of these people. They must learn in this incarnation that they cannot shift the burden. Luck is apt to favour them in early or late life. In middle life they must rely upon their own judgment or upon the good advice of others. Sorrow may be connected with love, and frequently there is something unusual about their marriages. They love beauty in all its forms. They are extremely sensitive, some of them having nerves like singing wires which catch every vibration. In this existence many of them are given a chance to pay karmic debt which they acquired in their previous incarnation. The ancients believed that this symbol obtained for the wearer (if it was actually worn) his heart’s desire, and guarded him against the evil eye.

It relates to Persia in 700 B.C. At this time the territory of Persia was divided between two peoples: the one, inhabiting the north-eastern part of the country, was called the Medes; the other, inhabiting the south-eastern portion, was called the Persians.

The Assyrians had been in possession of Upper Asia for five hundred years when the Medes revolted from their authority, and fought with such obstinate bravery against them that they (the Medes) managed to exchange servitude for slavery. Soon other nations followed their example.

The Medes, after their revolt, needed a leader. They were divided into various districts; but it was decided that one leader could impartially distribute justice among them. After much consultation they decided to appoint Deioces, a man who had an outstanding reputation for wisdom and discernment. They did not then know that this reputation disguised a nature which was the slave of ambition.

Being too interested in greater things to practise depravity, the morals of Deioces were above reproach. The Medes, to signify their approbation of his character, made him their judge in all matters. In this office, having a much higher appointment in mind, he conducted himself with the utmost decorum. This rigid adherence to duty won the applause of his countrymen. People of the surrounding countries, hearing of his equitable decisions and contrasting them with their own dissolute rulers, came to his tribunal begging him to determine their litigations. His fame increased, and when he saw how people were gathering beneath his word he withdrew from the public, thereby increasing his importance. Certain leaders of modern religions have followed his example with much the same effect.

Realizing that it was impossible to approach the great man, the Medes again consulted each other as to what they could do. They decided to elect a king who could protect them against the dangers of molestation. They elected Deioces, who offered many objections which he knew would heighten their interest in him. He pointed out that a king must live in a palace and that guards must be appointed to secure the person of a monarch. The Medes promised that he should have everything.

Once he possessed supreme authority he was not slow in making his demands. He ordered the Medes to build a city which was to be the finest in Asia. They obeyed and constructed the place which is now called Ecbatana.

This symbol is concerned with Ecbatana, and holders of it lived in this city, some of them helping to build it.

Ecbatana was enclosed with seven circular walls, the battlements of each rising one above the other until the outer wall was the highest. The king’s palace and the treasury stood within the inner wall. The outer and longest wall was nearly equal to the circumference of Athens. It was white in colour. The next wall to it was black and the next purple, the next blue and the next orange. The two inner walls were plated, one with silver and the other with gold. Fortifications immediately surrounded the palace.

Having located himself in his dream-city, Deioces commanded the greater part of the people to live beyond the walls. Then he thought how further to increase his own importance. He was the first ruler to forbid access to a royal person. Again he refused to be publicly seen, and decreed that all communications should be sent to him by agents. Only on special days would he consent to appearing before his court. He next issued an edict which forbade smiling or spitting in his presence. Having established himself with all the pomp and ceremony he could think of, he began to govern the country; and the fifty-three years of his reign were crowded with progress and justice. Few men so absorbed with self-love have been as steady and as persevering as Deioces. He collected the Medes into one nation and ably ruled them.

Holders of this symbol were his agents, his spies and the administrators of his justice. His spies were sent in every direction to hunt out offenders whose crimes were reported to him. Other holders of this symbol were his architects, his goldsmiths, his weavers and his costume-makers.

The position of women, unless they happened to be slaves, was different in Persia from what it was in other Eastern countries. Women for the king’s harem were drawn from various provinces of the empire. The position of the wives differed from that of the concubines. The wives belonged to important families and observed a strict and tiresome etiquette. Jealousy and intrigue prevailed among them. When a jealous wife managed to get the upper hand she frequently had her rivals mutilated or poisoned.

The harem was divided into two large apartments. Newcomers were put into one apartment, where they spent a year in purification by means of costly perfumes, baths and aromatics. When a girl was admitted to the king’s chamber she was allowed to enter the second apartment of the harem. The concubines were watched over by eunuchs, who frequently helped them with their palace intrigues. Only the children of the wives (in theory) were in the line of inheritance; but the intrigues of concubines, the treachery of eunuchs and poison tactfully administered sometimes prepared for the illegitimate children the way to the throne. Women who belonged to families in high position lived in much the same way as the women of the palace. Women of the lower classes worked in their homes and in the fields.

Religion of Deioces’ time consisted of the lore of the Magi. This lore was a privilege communicated to the king and to certain highly favoured personages. The doctrine of the Magi consisted of rites, performances and penalties. If the ritual of this doctrine was followed there would have been little time for anything else during the day. Hymns were chanted to the rising and setting sun, and every half-hour between sunrise and sunset there were rites to observe and sacrifices to make to the deities. The Median monarchs, not above obtaining grace vicariously, had the priests chant the hymns and offer the sacrifices. The ancient Median priests are among the holders of this symbol.

When Deioces passed on and left the kingdom to his son Phraortes some of the holders of this symbol were still living in Persia.

Not satisfied to govern only the Medes, Phraortes brought the Persians under his dominion. Supreme ruler of these two nations, he passed over Asia with his armies, subduing the people of other nations; but every conqueror eventually meets his Waterloo, and Phraortes met his when he tried to conquer Nineveh, for he perished there with the greater part of his army. Some of the people of this symbol perished with him, slain by the Assyrians.

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The symbol which operates from the 24th of July to the 30th is the Sextant—sixth part of a circle, in modern times an instrument used in navigation. It denotes people who never give up the struggle until the goal is reached. Once reached they are inclined to draw their force within, and others seldom realize their inner power. Women of this symbol are not so fortunate as the men. Often very attractive, they are apt to place too much importance on appearances and pursue the shadow instead of the substance. Once they realize, however, that the shadow is not the substance, they become very practical and often develop shrewd organizing ability. Both the men and the women of this symbol are good friends, never denying assistance to those who solicit it. Philosophers and persons interested in science have this sign in some prominent place in their charts. With the Torch (another symbol) it denotes genius.

This symbol relates to Jerusalem when David was king of Israel. David had reigned for seven years in Hebron over the tribe of Judah before he became king of all Israel. The Israelites refused to resign their liberty, and he found it necessary to acquire paid foreign troops to keep them in order.

The people of Jerusalem sent him a message of defiance. He then declared that whoever could scale the wall of that town and drive away the defenders should be made the captain of his army. His reckless and impulsive nephew Joab mounted the wall and captured the town. This daring feat placed him at the head of the army, where he remained for over thirty years. To signalize his triumph David caused a fortress to be built at Jerusalem. The city had previously been called Jebus or Salem (peace).

The Philistines, seeing what David had done to the Jebusites (the people of Jerusalem), knew what to expect from him, so they marched out in force and encamped on the plain of Rephaim. David, always the religious monarch, consulted Jehovah as to whether or not he should attack the Philistines. Having obtained permission, he repulsed them and captured the images of their gods, which his people, the Hebrews, burned. The Philistines, however, returned to battle, and the priest, after further consulting Jehovah, forbade David to assail them in front. Finally the Hebrews attacked their flank and they fled to Gezir; this being their own town north of Jerusalem. Peace, being the wisest policy, was finally established with the Philistines.

David then gave his attention to making Jerusalem the sacred city of Israel, where he bound the tribes together under Jehovah and destroyed in Israel all foreign superstition.

Holders of this symbol were among the 30,000 men who accompanied him to Kirjath-jearim to obtain the Ark of the Covenant when he decided to bring it to Jerusalem. The Bible describes the dangers of moving the Ark. While it was exposed to vulgar curiosity mortal plagues proceeded from it. The oxen jolted the cart which drew it, and when Uzzah put forth Iris hand to steady it from falling, Jehovah smote him and he “died” on the spot. Such was the belief of the Jews and such has been the belief of Christians. Students of occult science know that good or bad influences attach themselves to sacred objects. This is also the case with objects which are not sacred, but which have belonged to certain unfortunate people. Famous jewels have brought misfortune to certain people who have acquired them after the passing of their original owners. An explanation of the forces which cause this misfortune to pass from one person to another would require considerable space and cannot be included in this book.

After the passing of Uzzah, David ordered the Ark to halt on its journey for three months at the house of Obed Edom.

After its establishment in Jerusalem David ordered a palace to be built for him. The Hebrews were crude workmen, so the neighbouring tribes were called in to build the palace and to teach the Hebrews the art of building.

The Jews have never been agriculturists, but wheat and oil were almost self-produced, and the Jews exported them from Israel to Tyre. David, realizing that the country was insecure economically, established commerce with his neighbours. Tyre exchanged weapons of war and armour for the wheat and oil.

Soon after his palace was built David began his conquests. He undertook the conquest of Moab, Philistia and Edom. Holders of this symbol made up his cavalry and drove his chariots when he pursued Hadadezer. The result of this pursuit was David’s entry into Damascus as conqueror. The Damascenes paid homage and tribute to David and acknowledged him as their ruler.

To hold Damascus meant constant increase in the army, and some of the wearers of this symbol must have spent considerable time in Syria with David’s forces.

The ancient Hebrews believed that it was unlucky to count people, and the pestilence which carried off 70,000 souls was attributed to the census which David had taken of his people. Certain holders of this symbol saw the reign of David’s son, Solomon. Bathsheba, who was much younger than the mothers of David’s elder children, used her great ascendancy over David to have his son Solomon placed on the throne.

After Solomon and his glory the Hebrew nation declined. The Jews had to struggle for national existence with no thought of conquest. This struggle still continues. Many times the Assyrians and the Babylonians put the Israelites to the sword, yet these conquered people managed to exist. In their decline came their importance; for it gave rise to their impassioned poetry of denunciation, which remains to-day the chief glory of the world’s literature. These despised people gave their contemporaries a place in history, for who would have known the Assyrians and the Babylonians without the haunting brilliance of the Hebrew scribe?

David and the holders of this symbol lived a thousand years before Christ. David’s god Jehovah brought success to his followers and trouble to his enemies. He was the god of the strong—and to the strong he gave the victory.

David lived in a defective world, a world of violence, inertia and intrigue. At times he had to submerge his conscience and practise deception, but he was always the servant of Jehovah.

Holders of this symbol are the surviving type. They are the people who know that no worthwhile cause is ever lost.

## August

The symbol which operates from the 31st of July to the 6th of August is a Man Kneeling in Prayer Before an Altar. It denotes distaste for artificiality. Holders of this symbol are constantly seeking their conception of truth. Their intuition is very keen and they should always heed it, for it is a better guide than their judgment. They have considerable (in most cases latent) creative ability. Regarding the affections, they are quite demonstrative or extremely reserved. Friendship means much to these people, and they can usually be counted on to help a friend who is in distress. Mediums always have this sign well placed in their charts. Unwelcome changes may occur in middle life. Often these changes are psychological, and holders of this symbol may find themselves changing their opinions about most things. Their attitude at this time is apt to surprise their friends and even themselves. This condition changes in later life (longevity belongs to this symbol), and they are usually happy and contented. It is better for them to take the middle course in most things, as the desire to overdo is very pronounced. This should be watched and corrected.

This symbol relates to Rome in the time of Constantine. With Constantine three other emperors ruled the Empire: Maximin, Licinius and Maxentius. As there were no friendly relations between them, it remained for one among them who possessed the most ability and strength to overthrow the others and to reign alone. This was finally effected by Constantine after more than one battle with the others. What was finally to determine the issue was the attitude of the contesting emperors towards the Christians. The Christians formed a considerable number and they were closely united amongst themselves. To strengthen their position, the former religion had no inward or external union. It was sane policy, therefore, to have the united Christians on one’s side if one was to carry the victory over the co-rulers. Constantine was the only ruler who actually cared for the Christians. For many years he remained a pagan while showing himself friendly to the Christians. The women of his family, his wife Fausta and his mother Helena, were Christians. As a matter of fact, his mother was celebrated for her teaching of Christianity. It may be supposed that these good women were influential in Constantine’s later conversion.

Pride often precedes a fall, and Maxentius conceived a high opinion of himself after his victory over Alexander. In his arrogance he decided to attack Constantine. His tyranny and cruelty could not hold out against Constantine’s military discipline and judgment. Many holders of this symbol were in Constantine’s army when he marched against Maxentius.

Before the battle Constantine had chosen the Christian cross as the ensign of the Roman army. He had seen in a vision a shining cross spread across the sky with the inscription “By this sign thou shalt conquer,” and in a dream Christ had commanded him to make the cross his standard against the enemy.

After his victory over Maxentius he became a Christian, not formally or fanatically—and not irrevocably, for he still attended heathen sacrifices and continued to bear the title of high priest of the pagan religion. His attitude towards religion was unique. He could not desert paganism nor relinquish his desire to be a Christian. There is something more childish than prudent in his postponement of baptism until he was on his death-bed, that he might enter the next life washed clean of his sins. Holders of this symbol were ready to follow him into Christianity (even part-time Christianity), for he was generally loved by his men.

The Roman world was now divided between Constantine and Licinius, the others having been overcome. Two battles were necessary to overcome Licinius. The second induced him to sue for peace. The reconciliation between Constantine and Licinius, though embittered by resentment and jealousy, brought eight years of tranquillity to Rome. Constantine, as the supreme Emperor, could now devote his energy to peace. Religion was his chief interest and he established new laws to correspond with his policy of religion. His humanity was moved by the despair of the poorer classes, whose chief distress was caused by the burden of taxes placed upon them by the officers of the revenue, who refused to show any mercy to insolvent debtors. The poor people killed their new-born infants to release them from the impending miseries of a life which was insupportable. Constantine issued an edict to all the cities of Italy directing immediate relief to be given to parents who should produce before the magistrates children whom their poverty would not allow them to retain. But like many of Constantine’s good-hearted orders, it was too liberal and too vague. It seemed in advance to ask the wily magistrates to take advantage of it. Instead of alleviating the distress, the magistrates displayed it and called everyone in Italy to witness the spectacle. In the passing of years governments have learned that the weakness of a country can be dealt with without too much advertisement.

Constantine then directed his attention to rape and seduction, which were prevalent in the country. A ravisher was put to “death” by being burned alive or being torn to pieces by wild beasts in the amphitheatre. A woman who admitted her consent to the act, instead of serving her lover exposed herself to “death” with him. Parents who tried to save their impulsive sons and daughters were punished by exile. Slaves who were convicted of being accessory to the sins of their masters were put to “death” by having melted lead poured down their throats. Constantine would sometimes show mercy to an offender who came directly under his notice. So singular was his character that he could be indulgent and remiss in the execution of the severe and cruel laws which he initiated.

His friends call him a hero, a saint, the deliverer of the Church; while his enemies abhor him, calling him a weakling, a vicious tyrant. But he was neither strong nor weak. He was a victim of early Christianity. Christianity made sex the scapegoat of the dissolute Roman society. The most primitive urge became a sin, and the prohibition of it gave the edge to rape and seduction. Constantine had many impulses, many urges, many loves and many detestations; but he had no ruling passion. Even his ambition let him down when his mind became too saturated with religion. Nature let him remain too long in one incarnation, and he lost the esteem of his subjects. In early life his mind was relaxed by religion and in the end by prosperity. The holders of this symbol were the early Christians who, like Constantine, became obsessed by the novelty of a new religion. Some of these people were with him when he besieged Byzantium. They believed, no doubt, that obedient to the command of God Constantine laid the foundations of Constantinople. Certain of them must have watched him when, robed in purple, with lance in hand, he solemnly led the procession as he traced the boundary of his destined capital. They believed that he was following the celestial being who was to indicate how large the city should be. And perhaps they saw his body, adorned with the trappings of an Emperor, when he was deposited on a golden bed in one of the apartments of his palace in his beloved capital. Even after his soul had departed to continue its journey, the force of his will caused the people of his household to approach his body on bended knees, offering their homage as if he were still alive.

Whatever of beauty and luxury could adorn a fine capital was found within the walls of Constantinople. There were schools, theatres, reservoirs, courts of justice, churches and numerous baths to testify to Constantine’s glory. No doubt many holders of this symbol made their homes in Constantinople and remained there after the passing of the Emperor.

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The symbol for this week, the 7th to the 13th of August, is the Tablet of Destiny—a disc upon which the sun and moon are engraved. It denotes people who are never satisfied with existing conditions, although they make slight efforts to change them. They are usually at the mercy of their emotions and their strangely sensitive natures. Love often brings disappointment. They are inclined to place too much importance on social position. There are three times in their lives when they have a chance to reach out and to take what they want from life. The first is when they are thirty-eight, the next occurs when they are fifty-two, and the final opportunity in this incarnation is indicated at sixty-one. They should choose their associates with great care, for there is the risk of associating with people who might be hostile to their interests. Discretion and patience should be cultivated. Women holding this symbol are attracted in middle life by occult science.

This symbol relates to Alexandria when Caesar entered that city to add Egypt to the Roman State. To govern Egypt was the dream of every nation, for she was the richest country of the ancient world. Her fecundity had become an ancient proverb. She knew no modest harvests. Each season she produced corn in greater abundance. By refusing to export her vast crops she could produce a famine in Rome whenever she wished. She was governed by people who had given up arms for pleasure. Caesar knew how to step into this Ptolemaic dynasty by strategy. When he arrived his army was contemptible, but he expected forces to join him and he could study the ground while he waited.

The people of Alexandria, thinking their independence was to be interfered with, started a riot in which most of the soldiers of Caesar’s small army lost their lives. Caesar, to gain time, summoned the rival sovereigns and offered to settle their disputes in the name of the Republic.

We all know how Cleopatra, when her brother obstructed her approach to Caesar, had herself carried into his presence. Her fame had already extended to Rome, and Caesar knew that this woman, not yet twenty years old, was noted for her wit and her accomplishments. She neither possessed nor needed unusual beauty. She had personality and she knew the art of conquest. But she was no match for Caesar.

A pretty legend has been woven round this meeting, and because of it and the subsequent life of Cleopatra hundreds of women, who see romance rather than fact in Reincarnation, have told me that they must have been Cleopatra in a former life.

Caesar saw in Cleopatra not the woman of irresistible allure, but the person who might repair a weak spot in his campaign. He at once championed the distressed siren and played off her claims against her haughty rivals. He saw no reason to deny himself the reward of his gallantry, but while he indulged in the dissipations of the most sensual capital, he kept his eye on his main object. He was the matter-of-fact realist with an uncanny judgment amounting to genius. He could bring all his concentration on the moment and give his complete attention to small things. He was very passionate—genius always consorts with passion—but his passion was never greater than his will. He was attracted more by the knowledge of Alexandria than by the charms of Cleopatra. There were people living in Alexandria who had nothing to do with the dissolute life of the city. They were the sages, the scientists, the mystics, the occultists who guarded a mysterious lore and the librarians. Caesar sought them out. He listened to their discourses, read their writings and penetrated into any mysteries open to non-initiates. Certain holders of this symbol may have met Caesar when he searched for the hidden knowledge of Alexandria; for this symbol is concerned with the Egyptians, not with the Romans living in Alexandria. They, to whom this sign now belongs, may have been the priests, the sages, the writers, the librarians, the astrologers and the interpreters of dreams in Cleopatra’s flaming capital.

The young king, Cleopatra’s brother, against whom Caesar was playing his sister’s claim to the throne, raised an army among the Egyptians and the renegade Roman soldiers (the place was filled with deserters from all parts of the Roman Empire, for Alexandria was the haven of the desperate and the abandoned) and marched against the advancing Roman army which Caesar had been expecting.

The deserters and the people of the city were as nothing against the scientific knowledge of the veterans. They fled in all directions. Many of them rushed to the Nile, where their boats were stationed. The boat in which the king had taken refuge was overladen and sank. The defeat and the death of their sovereign reduced the Egyptians to despair. They came to Caesar in the attitude of suppliants performing their religious rites, which were supposed to enhance their humility. Cassar promised them protection. He then reconstituted the government and appointed Cleopatra to the sovereignty with her younger brother. He secured Cleopatra’s position by leaving a Roman guard in Alexandria.

He had now pleased the Egyptians by placing one of the Ptolemys on the throne, and the pride of Rome had been gratified by the subjugation of a country so long coveted. He remained in Egypt for three months to consolidate the advantage he had gained. Then he left Cleopatra in power and returned to Rome. He was becoming superior, almost immortal, and he had little time for love. He was adding lustre to the name which the Roman Emperors were to adopt.

Holders of this symbol went back to their occupations. They were builders, jewellers, engineers, woodcarvers, agriculturists and men engaged in commerce.

The position of women was good: better than it has since been in Egypt. In the government and in social matters women took an active part. The Queen’s intellectual powers (she spoke several languages, read many books and played certain musical instruments) encouraged the women of Egypt (the present holders of this symbol) to study.

Many beauty preparations of our day are said to be Cleopatra’s recipes, but it is doubtful if she gave as much time to the study of cosmetics as she did to improving her mind. As a vassal of the Roman State she found it necessary at times to employ femininity and pageantry, but she was far too clever to employ them simply to appease her vanity.

Holders of this symbol saw Antony come to Alexandria to govern the Eastern world. But he did not govern; Cleopatra did; not because Antony had been her captive since the moment he saw her at Tarsus, but because she had decided to rule the world’s ruler whoever he happened to be.

Antony, in the position in which he found himself, should, with Cleopatra, have ruled the world; but Antony was not Caesar. It was not Cleopatra who debauched him. It was Alexandria. Rome was no match for the Eastern capital. Art and commerce, which had made Alexandria the opulent, brilliant city it was, were the occupations of slaves in military Rome. Rome knew how to conquer nations, but she knew nothing else. The refinement of vice was too much for Antony. His clumsy mind could not understand a people who made licentiousness a polite occupation and virtue a provincial oddity. His failure was a logical climax.

Some of the holders of this symbol witnessed Antony’s failure and Cleopatra’s dramatic end. They were in Egypt when Augustus came to govern in the name of Rome. Others lived in Alexandria before the arrival of Caesar. All saw the Greek rule merge into the Roman.

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The symbol for this week, the 14th of August to the 20th, is the Divining Rod. It denotes keen perception and a highly developed critical faculty. The ancients said that this symbol (it also, with other symbols, relates to Babylonia) indicates a charmed life, for something unexpected usually sees the holders of it through difficulties. They entered this existence with few karmic debts to pay. Much can happen to them within a small radius, but they should be sure that their ideas are their own and that they do not copy others, for they are on a line of self-development which was started in the past.

They have organizing ability. Some of them are attracted by display, ceremony and appearances; but this is not the case with the really developed ones.

This symbol relates to Italy at the beginning of the Renaissance. When medievalism ended the world was tired of conquering nations only to destroy them again. The fall of Constantinople was the last straw. For centuries the rich had been accumulating every luxury. They had assumed power in the name of the state, the kingdom, the republic. Man had been conscious of himself only as a member of a race, a people, a party. It was time to raise an altar to beauty. This altar was raised in Italy, for it was there that man realized that he was an individual. Nothing can ever be accomplished without a free personality. Individualism should be sought every moment of each existence and announced with the last breath.

Might had failed. Art and intellect were to come into their own. Instead of brawn and obedience, brains were to elevate a man. Men could come from any environment if they brought intellect with them. Traders bred Popes and an apothecary offered Lorenzo the Magnificent. The only prejudice was against stupidity. In Rome sin had been an accomplishment. In the coming years it would be taxable; but in the age of Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio beauty reigned supreme.

The rest of the world was still held by its uncreative traditions, its superstitions and its clumsy morals, because it had not yet emancipated the individual.

Holders of this symbol lived in Italy when Dante was writing his immortal poem, when Petrarch was singing the beauties of Laura, and when Boccaccio was sending his learned works on science, geography and mythology all over Europe and giving his Decameron to a few understanding souls.

The Italians of the Renaissance were unacquainted with false modesty. No one was afraid of being singular or of differing from his neighbours. There was no prevailing fashion of dress for the men. Each clothed himself as he wished. Political bickering still continued, but to one side of culture. It did not affect the development taking place, which was making the Italian language (instead of Latin) a literary medium and giving Cimabue and Giotto the opportunity to display their creative genius in art.

It was in Florence that the greatest advancement was made. The statesmen who formed the governing party became leaders on their own. They developed so marked a personal character that we cannot find their parallel in history. Each strove to do his utmost for the new culture. Agnolo Pandolfini wrote the first really complete work on domestic economy. It stresses the duties of an individual to himself and the uselessness of giving himself to the public.

So attractive was the culture of Florence that people flocked to the city from all over Italy, establishing little colonies for themselves. In France, Germany, England and Spain the people were still generalizing their ideas or smothering them. They brought nothing to a conclusion and their speculations had nothing to do with the life of the individual.

In Italy, where everyone tried to develop the powers he possessed, the holders of this symbol became artists, writers, architects, governors, goldsmiths, engravers and traders. They studied the needs of the towns and tried to supply them. Whatever they created was intended to give pleasure to the eye and the senses. Universities and schools, already founded, were recognized and new schools were erected, in which holders of this symbol might have been professors or scholars. If a university was excommunicated by the Pope (as when Clement V excommunicated the University of Bologna), the professors and scholars simply passed to another university.

Before the Renaissance nothing had been taught in the universities but what were commonly called the seven arts. Literature was ignored with the exception of books which were considered suitable for the monasteries, such as the works of the Fathers on theology, medicine and astrology. These Fathers, when the passion for knowledge arose, interpreted the ancient books and obscured by their explanations what had at first been clear. The people ignored these interpretations and gave their attentions to the writings of the day. Holders of this symbol could have been priests in Florence, and perhaps they interpreted some of the ancient books. Religion was having its day, but pagan Rome still lived in the amatory poetry and the songs written by the men and women of the new culture. Instead of an Emperor Italy had a Pope. A new cleansing took the place of the perfumed baths—a cleansing of the reason, of the intellect. Beauty emerged from her tomb and a new race came into being—a race of painters, sculptors, writers, musicians and architects. With these exceptional people came bandits and tricksters, who, by absorbing the new knowledge, made themselves attractively dangerous. Love had hitherto been regarded as something of the senses. There had been licence in it, but little beauty. In France it had to contend with the hysteria of celibacy—but not for long. A new ingredient had entered with the new culture which could combine the soul and the senses. Men found new wonders in feminine charm and women found new methods of seduction which robbed sex of much of its importance.

It was a great epoch, approaching the taste and brilliance of Pericles’ time.

Holders of this symbol lived in this great age and they should cling to the lesson they formerly learned that the individual soul must create its own destiny.

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The symbol for this week, the 21st to the 27th of August, is the Broken Crown. It denotes people who hesitate when they should go forward and who rush into things when they should hesitate. They are the world’s greatest starters, but their first attempts are not always satisfactory. They are very emotional, and religion or pleasure or some cause claims their attention. They can work just as hard doing nothing as they can if profitably employed. They are fond of adventure and of change. This symbol can belong to the soldier, the sailor, the religious fanatic and the dilettante. It deals with extremes, seldom with moderation. Physical and mental vitality belong to it—and sometimes fame.

This symbol deals with the early French and English colonies in America. The noble, the priest and the soldier ruled in Canada. The Canadian peasant knew little about civil rights and cared less. His habit was obedience, and he readily offered submission. Power, he believed, was in the system under which he lived, and he asked no questions.

The lords of the land were French noblemen who were more interested in war and adventure than in trade and agriculture. Those ostentatious men looked upon the people as their vassals. The churches, the convents, the wayside shrines were everywhere in evidence. In the town and villages the streets seemed to belong to the black-robed Jesuits and the grey-garbed Ursuline nuns. Names of saints had been given to rivers, islands, towns and forts. Over all the little white houses floated the emblem of the cross.

In sharp contrast were the English colony, the stern Puritans of New England. In this colony the spirit of nonconformity flamed like a fire. Right or wrong, they were free. Their love of liberty and their hatred of coercion had brought them to this rock-bound coast of New England, where they called no man master. Patient and determined, limbs and hands hardened by toil, they sought life’s necessities, giving no thought to her luxuries; detesting war, yet, if need were, they fought with indomitable courage and then returned to their farm labours and their self-imposed worship. They had neither noblemen, priests nor soldiers to protect them. This English colony was outcast and neglected, but it contained the pith and marrow of a commonwealth.

In quality and efficiency the Canadian colonies fell below it, but in emotion and merriment the Canadians surpassed it. Gay and careless, like their French ancestors, the Canadians made the frozen wilderness ring with song—a song mixed up with black pools, snow-shoes, slim canoes, the beat of the paddle, the frost-complaint of huge spruces and pines, the hiss of food spluttering in iron pots hung on tripods over leaping flames—a song mixed with moonlight over a white landscape where big, cold stars huddled, with the call of the wolf, the whine of the dog and the smell of wet fur. And across the border in New England the Puritans sang to the grey skies of Massachusetts, while the dim solitudes answered and the sea lent its passion to their hymns.

Holders of this symbol were with the Puritans or with the Canadians, for this symbol indicates the northern half of North America from 1620 to 1750.

The Canadian, true example of beggared nobility, was happy in his poverty, content if he had his tobacco and some little present for his wife or his mistress. Proud and penniless, the only way he could now assert his rank was by idleness. The fur trade furnished his chief source of income. He embarked upon whatever adventure offered, and after carousal the priest shrived him of his sins.

Sometimes in the evening he visited the French peasants and watched them prepare their simple meals, or he would wander into the Indians’ tents, stretch out on a bear skin, and smoke a pipe with the chief and his squaw. In some of these tents white women lived with Indians or white men lived with squaws, while children of lost identity made flowers of feathers or worked beads into patterns on leather moccasins.

In the English colony the fight against nature went on. The ground had to be tilled, the forest overcome, the crops harvested, the wild turkey captured and domesticated. Schools had to be erected and churches built. There was no rank to be protected by idleness and there was little time for visiting.

Often the women must have dreamed of their former life in England, but it is doubtful if they ever mentioned it to their stern Puritan husbands. They brought up their children in the fear of God, baked bread, sheared sheep, spun wool and wove coarse materials on homemade looms. They knew physical exhaustion, but they were constantly rejuvenated by the inner fire of personal freedom.

In such a colony it was only natural that fanaticism should develop. Soon the Puritans would allow no more freedom than the mother church had allowed. People who disagreed with the Puritan clergy were ordered to recant and renounce their opinions under penalty of banishment. Spiritual arrogance and pride were as evident in Massachusetts as rank was in Canada.

Now that they had established themselves in the new land they developed troublesome morals which had to be constantly worried about. The habit of industry necessary to form a new nation was highly developed in them, but self-righteousness and stern discipline were in time to annihilate the freedom they had bought so dearly.

By studying their characters the holders of this symbol will know to which colony they belonged.

September

The symbol for this week, the 28th of August to the 3rd of September, is a Holy Man in Meditation. It is the symbol of radiation, denoting magnetism and strength. Being natural healers, people are inclined to “feel better” after coming into contact with the holders of this symbol. Through the power of their personality they usually achieve success. They always desire the inaccessible and the impossible, but at the same time they are practical and have a keen sense of values. If they are running true to type, their minds are searching and shrewd. They have a fund of inner knowledge which manifests in urges they cannot explain. Some of them incline to originality and cannot work under direction. It is possible for these original ones to create a new type of writing or advertising. They are extremely intuitive, and changes in the weather affect them. This comes from the past, when they were close to nature, studying and understanding her moods.

This symbol relates to the “roof of the world”—Tibet. The history of Tibet (for the uninitiated) is the history of disputes between religious sects.

The country was converted to Buddhism in the eighth century. Before this conversion many kings had reigned in Tibet. Munibtsam-po, who came to the throne in 789, tried to improve the condition of his subjects by reducing them all to the same level, abolishing all distinctions of rank and dividing all property. This system has never been successful, for the world is not yet ready for the levelling process.

In 1270 Kublai Khan appointed Phagspa Lodoi Gyaltshan as ruler of Tibet. This ruler was chief of the Sakya sect of lamas. Rival monasteries began to dispute the right of Kublai Khan’s nominee, and the reformer Tsongkapa appeared and established a new dynasty. Soon after Mongolian interference began Kushri Khan conquered the entire country and invested the Dalai Lama with supreme authority.

It was at this time, 1645, that the holders of this symbol lived in the land of the snows.

The lama chosen by Kushri Khan to govern the country came from a monastery near Lhasa. Since then the Dalai Lamas have continued to rule the country spiritually and politically.

The Dalai Lama, Gyalba-rembotche (meaning Jewel of Majesty), is king and god of Tibet. There is no limit to his power, but in making decisions he is governed by the ancient laws. Lhasa, the capital of Tibet, where he lives in the palace of Potala, is the centre of Buddhism.

The holders of this symbol once walked through the two long tree-bordered streets of Lhasa counting their rosaries and turning their prayer wheels. They gathered round the palace (which is really a collection of fortifications and monasteries surmounted by a dome plated with gold) chanting their blessings for the holy lama. They would then file out through an opening in the peristyle, the columns of which are also gilded, and return to their various monasteries. The palace is called the “mountain of Buddha” and it is the most venerated place in Asia.

In Lhasa the priests have always outnumbered the civilians. The Tibetans are zealous Buddhists, but there are numerous sects in Buddhism. The geluk-pa, or yellow bonnets, predominated when holders of this symbol lived in Tibet. The more ancient sect, the duk-pa, or red bonnets, had left Lhasa to maintain its power in Nepal and Bhutan. Rites belonging to Chinese Taoism were (and are still) practised in Lhasa.

These rites consist of offerings made to the lakes, mountains and trees, representing the forces of nature. The Tibetans believe (and rightly) that the holy lama never perishes. His khoubilgan becomes the “new” lama. A child’s body is prepared in which the lama reincarnates. This is not so difficult for an individual who can force his will into ancient or future conditions. The soul, like everything else, contacts its rate of vibration as it passes from one existence to another. When its direction can be controlled, as it can be by the great initiates, it can occupy the tenement prepared for it and continue its work.

The life of the Tibetan priests has always been spent in invocations and prayers. The six magic syllables Om mani padma houm—which mean “O jewel in the lotus, thus may it be”—are found everywhere: on the walls of temples, on houses, on statues and on rocks. Manes, ramparts built beside the paths, are composed of stones bearing this sacred phrase. Brotherhoods have been formed for the sole purpose of carving this inscription on buildings. The korlos khortens (prayer wheels) are sometimes made in the form of huge cylinders which are turned by wind and water, every revolution showing the inscription.

When holders of this symbol lived in Tibet the country was governed by China. The Dalai Lama could not assume his dignity until he was provided with a diploma signed by the Emperor of China, who resided in Peking. A Chinese resident in Lhasa watched over the Dalai Lama and his government.

Acting for the lama were four ministers and sixteen inferior mandarins. Other officials were chosen by the ministers from the monasteries. All the men of Tibet were supposed to constitute a national guard for the defence of the country, but the army was composed of strangers—Manchus, Mongols and Turks.

Sorcery played a prominent part (it does still) and mediums, called mawos, cast spells and delivered messages of gods and demons or the “dead.” The work of the magicians could not (nor can it now) be lightly passed over, for they could enslave the elements of nature and surround themselves with invisible barriers which none could pass.

Orthodox Buddhism forbids rites and sacrifices and the bestowal of enlightenment. The trapas (students) are supposed to acquire their spiritual knowledge by their own efforts. In spite of this the Tibetans have always used certain rituals for healing the sick and securing material property.

Holders of this symbol learned concentration in Tibet. The habit of concentration was carried so far that it produced unconsciousness. In the memory of persons born during this week is the knowledge of how to overcome pain by concentrating the mind on some object or subject. All initiates know that everything is done by manipulation of power. Pain is lessened or removed by robbing it of its power. If holders of this symbol have forgotten, in the stress of their present environment, the habit of concentration, they should refind it.

The Tibetans practised polyandry in order to avoid dividing inheritance. The eldest son went to the house of the bride and by offering himself he offered all his brothers. When a piece of butter was placed on his head and on the head of the bride the ceremony was valid for the entire family. The women were highly respected. They were good housekeepers and mothers and they also helped their husbands in the fields. Having a plurality of husbands, the wife’s work was done for the family as a whole.

Tibet, like Japan, was noted for politeness. When people met they bowed several times, stuck out their tongues and scratched their right ears. Sometimes they exchanged scarfs. Funerals meant feasts for the poor. They had plenty of tea and sometimes meat. Tea was boiled with butter and salt in huge caldrons.

The Tibetans were an enlightened people. Acquiring knowledge was (and is) a passion with all but the lower classes. They did not find their knowledge in books (which, after all, is but the acquiring of some other person’s knowledge), but in the contemplation of nature’s forces and in meditation. Progress with its accompaniments, war, hypocrisy and starvation, did not interest them. They found a method for living and for “dying.” Nothing was done without thought and preparation. When passing out of the body a priest sat with them to see that they did not lapse into unconsciousness and fail to direct, by their will, the course their spirit was to take. All fear of “death” disappeared in the concentration necessary to guide the soul to the realm it had chosen.

This symbol, in certain combinations, denotes leadership. No doubt this characteristic was acquired when it was necessary to concentrate the entire mind on some desire.

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The symbol for this week, the 4th of September to the 10th, is the Cross. It denotes people who will go to any length for that in which they believe, be it religion, politics, love or just some personal ideal. Few there are who realize the inner strength of these people. They are courageous and capable of sacrifice, loyal in friendship, and usually they insist upon seeing justice done. To a certain extent they are adaptable, but they resent having anything forced upon them. They are the people of the upward path, who set their course and steer for their ideals.

This symbol relates to Malta. If a holder of this symbol were to visit Malta to-day and sit on a bench in the Abercrombie Gardens he would see around him the modern city of Valetta. He would hear the hum of its traffic, he would see its stucco houses with their variously coloured doors change from beige to deeper yellow in the sunlight. Ship sounds would come to him from the Mediterranean Fleet anchored in the Grand Harbour. But if some power were given him to see yesterday’s pageant pass by, the scene would be very different. The gay uniforms of the military Knights of St. John would flash past, following their Grand Master and his suite. Monks in sombre habits would pass, mumbling prayers as they fingered their rosaries. The tinkle of goat-bells and the call of the shepherds would be heard in the fields, where a moment ago the stucco houses stood. The Mediterranean Fleet would have vanished and in its place ships of various nations would be seen in the harbour. As the pageant passes the watcher would see the Moors invading Malta and its sister island Gozo; the kings of Aragon and the Castilian monarchs who succeeded them; Count Roger, the son of Tancred de Hauteville; the Arabs; the Romans; the Greeks; the Carthaginians; the Phoenicians; and perhaps the nymph Calypso, whom legend says entertained Ulysses on the island while his wife Penelope waited at home, usefully employing herself with needlework.

Over and over again Malta has been conquered. Dozens of times she has been mortgaged or given as a fief. Nations and private individuals have held her in pledge. Once she was mortgaged by a Sicilian ruler to a wealthy Spaniard for 30,000 golden florins (about £15,000). This last insult was too much for the oppressed Maltese. They rose in their wrath and seized the Spaniard’s wife. They then offered to pay the sum for which the Island had been mortgaged. The offer was accepted and the Spaniard’s wife was returned to her family. The ruler then conferred on the Maltese the same privileges as those enjoyed by the citizens of Palermo and Messina. From that time until 1530 no other cession of the island took place.

Holders of this symbol lived in Malta from 1530 until 1740. Some of them were Maltese, others arrived with the Knights. Owing to previous disturbances and to plague the population of Malta in 1530 had been greatly diminished and the survivors left in great poverty and misery. The Maltese were forbidden to arm ships under penalty of 1,000 florins; but the Sicilian ruler, in consideration of their poverty, granted them full exemption from custom duties in the Sicilian ports. Certain holders of this symbol were Jews living on the island. History has furnished us with the names of many persons who persecuted the Jews. The names of several of the Sicilian rulers are on the list. These rulers treated the Jews no better than the lepers were treated at that time. The lepers wore a bell to warn people of their approach, and the Jews wore the “little red wheel” for the same purpose. The red wheel was a piece of red cloth pinned on the breast as a distinctive badge of nationality. If the Jews neglected to wear it they were thrown into prison for fifteen days. Not content with belittling them in this manner, the Sicilian rulers had them banished from Malta and their property confiscated. The money raised from the sale of their property was used to repair one of the island’s castles.

Not long after the banishment of the Jews, Charles V of Germany, overlord of Malta, had his attention attracted to the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. These Knights had left the Island of Rhodes after defending themselves against the Turks with such force that their defeat seemed almost a victory. From the establishment of a small hospital at Jerusalem in 1050 to care for the Christian crusaders who were wounded by the swords of Islam this Order of Knighthood had developed. After the Knights were defeated in Rhodes Charles granted them the castles, fortresses and towns of Tripoli, Malta and Gozo, with their entire jurisdiction both civil and military; the only condition being that they should annually, on the day of All Saints, present a falcon to the Viceroy of Sicily in the name of the Order.

L’Isle Adam, the hero of Rhodes, was the forty-fourth Grand Master of the Order. He agreed that the Knights should never make war against the Emperor of Germany or against the kingdom of Sicily. He further agreed that the Emperor should select the Bishop of Malta from three candidates chosen by the Order.

The Maltese, instead of resenting the cession of their island home to the Knights, received the new rulers with rejoicing, for they solemnly swore to observe and keep inviolate the ancient laws and privileges. An oath to this effect was taken by each Grand Master on his entry into office.

The Knights began at once to relieve the poverty of the island. The supply of corn, which had been insufficient, was increased, fuel to take the place of dried dung and thistles was imported, the contemptible dwellings of the people were improved, the crumbling fortifications of the old city were restored and a mint was established. The Knights found money for the principal productions of the island—figs, melons, fruits, cotton, honey and locust beans; and taught the people how to dispose of them to advantage. The members of the Order (to which certain holders of this symbol belonged) were divided into three classes: the Knights of Justice, who were obliged to produce proof of nobility; the ecclesiastics; and the servants at arms. The third class was not eligible for the highest honours. Each Knight took the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, none of which were scrupulously observed. Each division had its own palace, called Auberge, which was presided over by a chief called a Pilier, who received from the general treasury a sufficient supply of money or grain for his Auberge. A different language was spoken in each Auberge. During the Reformation the English language was suppressed and Henry VIII confiscated all property belonging to the Order in England. He also saw to it that many Knights died on the scaffold or in prison.

The general income of the Knights was derived from Commanderies belonging to the Order in various countries. Considerable moneys came into the Order from wealthy Knights who renounced their pensions.

The Knights appointed a “Captain of the Rod,” or Hakeem, at Citta Vecchia (the ancient city variously known as Melita, Notabile and Citta Vecchia) to minister to the needs of the people. The Jews, who, when the Knights arrived, had returned to the island, frequently asked this official to have the law revoked which ordered the wearing of the red wheel. This law was finally revoked by the Knights.

The defence of the island was entirely undertaken by the Knights.

Many women holding this symbol belonged to religious Orders in Malta. The Ursuline and other orders of nuns received an annual pension from the Knights. The women of the people, also holders of this symbol, attended to their religious duties, managed their homes and brought up their children. Owing to religious pressure there was not much freedom of thought.

If the watcher in Malta should leave the Abercrombie Gardens, where some genie had shown him the pageant of yesterday, and go to the old capital, Citta Vecchia, he would know, without the help of the genie, how the ancient city looked when L’Isle Adam, the Grand Master of the Order, went there and commenced his government—for the ancient city has not changed much. It had looked almost the same before the Flood, when it had been visited by the Carthaginians, the Greeks and the Romans, when men of Tyre had strengthened its walls and called it home.

The old moat, dry now, surrounded it when Cicero mentioned its beauty. The cathedral, with its Byzantine portrait of St. Paul, stands where it stood when holders of this symbol lived in Citta Vecchia. Once on that spot where the cathedral stands stood the villa of the Roman Publius who entertained St. Paul when he was shipwrecked on the island. This was long before holders of this symbol lived on the island.

But the visitor, who needs no genie in the ancient city, should go inside the cathedral, for nothing there has changed since he attended the service when the Knights were in Malta. There is the picture, said to be by St. Luke, representing St. Paul routing 18,000 Moors who besieged the city. There are the old music books and the silver cross from Rhodes. Leaving the cathedral, he should go to the houses which form part of the old wall. In that line of houses he may find his former home and, mounting the ancient stairs, go to the window, where he once looked across the valley to see the city of Senglea—which the Maltese now call Vitorioso.

The holders of this symbol who arrived in Malta with the Knights have a great heritage—the heritage of courage. In times of stress they should realize that no Knight ever played the coward’s part. In the hour of danger no Knight ever bartered his soul to a Moslem conqueror. When burning at the stake they could flash their defiance to their persecutors—for no men ever lived who could fling away their bodies so gloriously.

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The symbol of this week, the 11th to the 17th of September, is the Steps. This symbol is a block having five steps. It symbolizes the support on which Shu stood when he separated the earth and sky. It denotes a person who will triumph over circumstances, who is inclined to be proud and rather defiant. Holders of this symbol are seldom small-minded or petty. Their minds can embrace any subject and their tolerance is of a high order. They understand life as few people do. Life’s glitter and show do not attract them, as they have a fine sense of values. They must avoid getting into a rut or playing too long on one string. While these people are usually modest and unobtrusive, they are a force to be reckoned with. They have reincarnated many times, and consequently have had much experience.

This symbol relates to the early Aegean settlements: the Mycenaean civilization (for example, the Greek) and especially Crete. History constantly reminds us of the debt which the Mycenaean civilization owes to Egypt and Babylonia. It is true that Egyptian, Babylonian and Phoenician products were found in Crete, but Crete did not owe her civilization to any of the nations furnishing these products, for she was much older than any of them. And to think of her as a primitive nation would be wrong, for she had reached the full flower of her civilization before the Egyptians and the Babylonians visited her. Egyptian and Babylonian art is known from the beginning, and its character is not the same as that of Aegean art. Sidonian civilization has been brought forward to explain the culture of Crete, but here again it is only presumption, for the scripts known to be Mycenaean are in no way related to the Phoenician alphabet.

To account for the Aegean culture it is necessary to advance an explanation which historians refuse to consider. To mention Atlantis to an historian is to expect ridicule and laughter. The “scientific” investigation of past ages will tell one that Atlantis is a myth—that it never existed. But I have the temerity to say that it did exist, and that some of the vases, idols and gems in which artistic ideal differentiates Aegean objects from the products of Egypt and Babylonia came from Atlantis. Such tablets and sealings as have been found in Crete have been found in no other place—but Atlantis. Similar shaft graves have been found in no other civilization.

Certain chambers at Knossos have square central piers, denoting pillar-worship. This was practised in Atlantis. The method of disposing of the “dead” was the same in Crete and in Atlantis.

Certain holders of this symbol possessed rare skill in gem-cutting and metal-working when they lived in Crete. It was an age of metal. The people of Crete made vases of copper and bronze and of silver—which made its appearance before gold. Gold was plentiful. It was used for anklets, pendants, diadems, objects of worship and face-masks. It was made into rings having engraved bezels. It was even used for cups. Overlaid as leaf, it appeared on bone, clay, wood and bronze. It also appeared on buttons and blades. Most of the tombs of Crete have yielded gold ornaments. Some of these ornaments show a careful technique and an elaborate finish and extreme fineness of handiwork. The inlaid dagger-blades display a skill which has never been excelled.

Iron was the precious metal in Crete. Precious stones of great value were dropped into it. Gold was almost as common as iron is in our day. Neither of these metals has any value beyond that which the age using them bestows upon them.

Certain holders of this symbol were artists in Crete. They made the frescoes of men and animals, birds and fish which have been found on the walls of Mycenae. Other holders of the symbol were the builders. They built the walls and the fortifications, with their corner towers, but no flank defences. Their fortifications were approached by stairs from within, and furnished with one large gate. Chambers with thick walls were used to protect stores rather than men. The Stone Age people and the people of Atlantis protected their food and their animal skins rather than their men.

The people of Crete worshipped various gods. They also worshipped trees and pillars. The worship of trees was practised in Atlantis. It is still practised in India, where girls are sometimes married to trees—and where the neem tree and the sacred fig (the peepal) are married to each other. This is a relic of the ancient tree-worship of Atlantis. The Greek nature-worship came to Greece through Crete from Atlantis.

Archaeologists vary in their statements about Crete, but most of them consider it a dumb age which has not yet spoken. They are hoping that it will find its voice and disclose its history. The Cretans neglected to write their names on their walls, but certain archaeologists believe that they had a culture in the earlier centuries of the second millennium.

Looking backward with clairvoyance (the clairvoyance of the teachers belonging to the Order to which I am a member—who penetrate the mysteries of the past and establish symbols as guides to them) we see the people of Crete long before the second millennium. We see them in Atlantis, working with metals (gold and silver), building fortresses, tilling the soil, planting and harvesting.

They practised a strange religion which they carried to Crete. “Death” had no terrors for them, but sorcery kept them in a constant state of worry. They believed that by certain magical rites they could leave their bodies for days. If certain chants were sung over their vacant bodies they could not return to them. Fearing that the “dead” might return to life if the magic spell were in some way lifted from the body, they buried the “dead” in the shaft graves, as they did in Crete.

They performed magical rites in underground caves, so as to draw assistance from the spirits of the nether world. With magic rites and chants they worshipped the sun, moon and stars.

They knew no poverty. There were but two classes: the slaves and the slave-holders. They had an advanced system of arithmetic and astronomy. They understood the use of fire, and they cooked their food according to ceremonies. They were fond of colour and decoration.

The present continents of the world will, in the course of time, be flooded, as Atlantis was. The ice-sheet at the poles is many miles thick. Scientists believe that it cannot melt during the eras which succeed glacial periods; but its counterpart melted ages ago and flooded the earth. It will melt again and flood the earth. Its next melting will be due to the warm eras following glacial periods. These warm eras will change, as they have changed in the past, the climate of the world.

The Arctic Ocean was once much larger than it is now. Water once covered central Europe and western Asia. The world is constantly sinking and rising. This is caused by the magnetic waves which operate above and below the earth. They are no more mysterious than wireless telegraphy, but we have not yet “discovered” them. England, Holland and Germany are slowly sinking, while Greenland and islands in the Arctic seas are rising.

In this book I cannot fully describe the life of the Atlanteans as reconstructed by the Order: space will not allow it; but the interest in occult science and the love of beauty expressed in craftsmanship and in works of art which are evident in the holders of this symbol had their inception in Crete and formerly in Atlantis.

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The symbol which operates between the 18th of September and the 24th is the Mandrake. It denotes people who must learn to accept as well as to give.

Acceptance teaches humility, a quality which holders of this symbol should cultivate. Their minds are flexible, turning easily from one thing to another, but diffidence may prevent them from achieving their desires while they are young. As they grow older caution gives way to daring, and in late middle life many of them are quite successful. A cramped environment keeps them from doing their best. They need mental and spiritual spaciousness. Women of this symbol are inclined to be very introspective, but some of them have remarkable dramatic ability.

This symbol relates to India before and after Alexander’s invasion. India before Alexander arrived, with his army composed of Macedonians, Greeks, Thracians, Persians, Egyptians, Arabs and Phoenicians, does not seem to interest historians very much. History prefers to record the doings of military leaders, so-called conquerors and rulers. The life of the people is skimmed over, if it is mentioned at all. We have heard a lot about the Indian princes whom Alexander defeated—Ambhi (Omphis), the ruler of Takahasila (Taxila), and Poros, prince of the land on the far side of the Jhelum (Hydaspes)—and about Koinos, Alexander’s favourite general; but we have heard little about the people who lived in India when Alexander entered the country to further the accomplishment of the mission for which he believed he had been born—that of bringing the entire world to his feet. Many conquerors since have shared his dream. They have bathed the world in blood, as he did, and then they too have passed out of their bodies leaving the world unconquered. This is a dream which has always engaged the ego of man. In the future the conquerors will use different weapons, but the dream will continue so long as man occupies this planet.

While Alexander was making terms with Omphis and returning the territory of the defeated Poros, the Indians were worshipping their gods, writing their philosophies and performing the feats which we like to refer to as miracles or magic. Holders of this symbol were once these Indians. They knew that their people, unlike Alexander, did not care to preserve the memory of their actions and their fortunes. They would leave for posterity the knowledge of their gods which they unfortunately wrapped up in legend and parable. They said, for example, that the god Vishnu existed before his form was conceived when they wished to refer to the intelligent reality behind some energy, and that Siva was the destroyer and the reproductive power when they wished to represent the divine force behind plastic circumstance. As with all religions, part of their teaching was for the initiate and part for the masses. Holders of this symbol were divided into four principal castes: the Brahmans (priests) being the families who had the knowledge of prayers, rites and sacrifices; the Kshatriyas (warriors), who are the Rajputs of to-day; the Vaisyas (agriculturists); and the Sudras, a non-Aryan class—really the Dasas of the Rig-Veda (the oldest book in existence). Each caste kept to its hereditary employments. The warriors faced Alexander and his forces, while the priests, with their astrology, predicted the outcome of the battles. The Vaisyas tilled their fields and harvested their crops, leaving the management of the government to the Kshatriyas. The Sudras attended to the business of the country, seeing that trade continued and that food was distributed while the various states were engaged in war.

Polygamy was practised, but the condition of the women was not degraded. Veils had not yet appeared to hide their charms from men. They studied their religion and gave considerable thought to physical culture and to beauty preparations. Many of them were sought by Alexander’s soldiers, which may account for the classical perfection of Rajput beauty—for the body as well as the soul obeys its law of inheritance.

The rulers surrounded themselves with luxury which fairly staggers the Occidental mind. To obtain this luxury they forced upon the people severe taxes and exactions.

Long before Alexander came to India the prince Siddhartha had renounced the teachings of the Brahman priests for Buddhism. He first taught his doctrine at Varanasi, the present Benares. Henceforth he was known as the “Enlightened One.” He said that his reform pointed the way to escape from the Brahmanical religion, but the people of India—-holders of this symbol—did not care for this reform. They considered it too abstract, too morbid; and, worse than all, it was in competition with their gods.

Alexander continued to race through the Punjab conquering the land and the people, but he could not conquer the gods. Old Mother India brought out the green of her jungle to cover his victories—and his mistakes. This green carpet stretches over the land which he conquered; but Siva’s voice still thunders through the universe and Ganesh—-the elephant-headed god—Ganesh the wise, still stands on his altar with a garland of marigolds about his neck.

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The symbol for this week, the 25th of September to the 1st of October, is the North Star. It denotes people of the surviving type, who are seldom conquered by circumstances or misfortune. When others are giving up the race, these people are often getting their second wind. They like anything which is out of the ordinary. Their power of observation is excellent. When they least expect it fortune favours them. They are the people for whom something always “turns up.” Many of them are fine looking and rather elegant in manner. They have one (not only one) great fault—they are inclined to pose. This is foolish, as their own character is usually better than anything they can invent.

This symbol relates to France in the reigns of Louis VIII, Louis IX, called St. Louis, and Philip III. Louis VIII did nothing to justify his incarnation save to become the father of Louis IX. He was weak and endowed with but slight capacity. Had not the sage policy of his father, Philip Augustus, persisted throughout his reign, the enemies of France would have triumphed over her.

The sovereignty of Languedoc was still undecided, and Louis decided to undertake a crusade in that country with all the advantages of a warlike pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Louis and some of the holders of this symbol marched towards Languedoc at the head of a formidable army in 1226. The town of Avignon offered him facilities for crossing the Rhone but refused entry within the walls. Louis insisted upon passing through the town. The Avignonese shut the gates and defied him. Famine and disease reduced his army by twenty thousand men—holders of this symbol being among the victims.

The people of Avignon finally submitted and Louis retired from his feeble victory, but not before he had been stricken by an epidemic. Soon after he passed on, at Montpensier in Auvergne. Certain holders of this symbol had been his governors, his advisers, his soldiers; others had been merchants or agriculturists or members of the clergy during his reign.

He was followed by his brave son, Louis IX—-a truly great character in history. Great men seldom have great sons, while feeble men frequently have sons who achieve distinction. The explanation of this fact is found in Reincarnation.

St. Louis was devoted to the Church, yet he knew how to resist the teaching of the Pope if he thought it necessary. He respected the existing law, but he placed justice above it. He was swayed by Christian charity, but he recommended the torture of the body for the salvation of the soul, and Rome canonized him.

He had methods of preserving his ascendancy without resorting to violence. Without possessing any genius, he elevated himself by his kindness and moderation. Before his time the sword of France had been valiantly carried, but he raised the influence of the monarchy to a much higher point than his predecessors by less ambitious means. He restored part of his father’s conquests to Henry III of England, who had lost the cities of Niort and La Rochelle to his father. He constantly tried to reconcile the dissensions which broke out in his own country among various parties; and he employed himself in the furtherance of peace with other nations. Fortunately for him, he could display his virtues against the less innocent but strong government of his grandfather, Philip Augustus. A century earlier his splendid character would not have supplied sufficient awe. He appeared at the right time. The crown was formidable, virtue could be effectual. His policy was right. Such policy is always right, even if it has to struggle against the greatest odds. It is necessary, however, to temper fine qualities with reason. When the excellence of the heart is not attended by understanding, results are not so satisfactory, Louis possessed bravery and firmness, but these qualities were always submerged by piety. Had his piety consisted of greater qualities than superstition and habit, his spiritual rejuvenation would have retained its strength.

Like many fine souls who have followed him, he was obsessed with the belief that all who did not agree with his faith should be exterminated. He studied nothing but the Scriptures. He caused a candle three feet long to be lighted and he read the Bible so long as it lasted. Every week he confessed his sins and insisted upon his confessor administering discipline to him. The discipline was flagellation. His confessor struck him with iron chains. He wore a hair shirt and visited all the churches barefoot on Good Friday.

It was only natural that this passionate pilgrim should gather his followers for a Crusade. He gathered many of the holders of this symbol, who left with him in his eighteen hundred ships to kill men of another faith in the name of God. Adventure rather than religion beckoned to many holders of this symbol.

Damietta, at one of the mouths of the Nile, was captured, and the Christians pushed on to Cairo, where a badly directed battle was to claim the lives of a large number of St. Louis’s knights. The king and his remaining knights were captured. The king was released for ransom and made his way to Palestine, where he remained for three years. The news of his regent’s “death” brought him back to France, where he carried on his good works by making treaties with England and Aragon.

But the habit of conversion was on him. He could not rest in France. An expedition was arranged to go to Tunis. Men of this symbol who survived the first Crusade accompanied the king to Tunis, where plague was to prove a greater opponent than the army of the Moors. The African sun and the lack of food and water made the knights easy prey for the plague. There were not enough survivors to bury the dead.

The king had barely time to respond to the litanies and to chant the psalms before the plague overtook him. The few remaining knights lifted him when he was passing and placed him on a bed of ashes, where he lay with his arms folded in the sign of the cross. His last words were a blessing on the people who remained in the country, knights and enemies alike.

So perished Louis the Saint, the beloved and deluded hero of the Middle Ages.

Holders of this symbol followed him in his Crusades or they carried out his peace plans. They taught his religion with a fine frenzy and enforced his laws. They tilled the fields of France, herded the cattle and engaged in trade.

Holders of this symbol who lived in the reign of Philip III saw Valois, Poitou, and the counties of Toulouse and Vanaissin reunited to Philip’s domain; but Philip, still under the influence of his father’s teaching, gave up to the Pope this last fief and half of Avignon.

Philip’s reign began in Tunis. His first duty was to bring home his father’s body, after forcing a treaty upon the Mohammedans in which they became tributary to the king of Sicily and agreed to pay the costs of the war.

In time Philip extended his domain to the Pyrenees, and finally it crossed them. Less pious and more virile than his father, Philip had his father’s love of justice. An ordinance which he had drawn up in 1274 obliged the advocates of the royal courts to take oath each year that they would defend none but just cases. Philip was the first king to make a commoner a noble. The case in point was Philip’s letter of ennoblement to his silversmith, Raoul.

Holders of this symbol who were young when Philip came to the throne saw less religious strife and more peace than those who had lived in the two previous reigns.

October

The symbol of this week, the 2nd of October to the 8th, is the Pomegranate. The ancients considered this a very fortunate symbol. Holders of it attract admiration. They are graceful, good talkers, fascinating and sometimes extremely clever. They seldom worry about trifles (unless they have an intercepting name symbol) and they are less critical than those holding other October symbols. Many successful actors have this sign in a prominent position in their charts. It denotes temptation. These people may forsake the realities of life to pursue some ideal or vision. They are the dreamers who seek the crock of gold at the end of the rainbow.

This symbol relates to Baghdad in the reign of the Caliphs. The first Caliph to rule in Baghdad was Al-Mansour, who, desiring a city which would eclipse all other cities of the Orient, founded Baghdad. Immense sums were spent on its establishment. Its palaces and public buildings were magnificent, and a wall incorporating 160 towers defended it from attack. Roads were laid; bazaars, fountains and caravanserais were constructed; institutions for learning were erected and opened, where the people, after so much war, could study the arts of peace.

The magnificence of all other Caliphs pales before that of Harun-al-Rashid (Harun the Just), who reigned in the city after Al-Mansour.

Most people think of Harun-al-Rashid in connection with The Thousand and One Nights, a series of tales once popular in Arabia and now equally popular in other lands. Harun-al-Rashid was more than a figure in these famous tales; he was a potentate in whom Arab genius reached its highest development. He was generous and magnanimous and neglected no occasion of doing good. It was not necessary for him to exert his supreme power over his subjects, for they obeyed him without a murmur. Like all great people, he could recognize his own faults and he constantly sought to correct them.

During the reign of these two Caliphs holders of this symbol lived in Baghdad. Some had come to Baghdad when the Abbasids had been raised to the Caliphate at the decline of the Omayyads. Others were born into the culture and unbelievable luxury of Old Baghdad. The Arabs, having conquered Spain and Sicily and having invaded France, were tired of military victories, and the reigns of the earlier Abbasids were marked by a complete absence of expeditions with a view to conquering other nations in wars.

Without a permanent army to support, they spent their enormous wealth on the pursuit of learning and in the distribution of gems and gold utensils among their friends. With the same ardour which had formerly characterized their military undertakings they now endeavoured to conquer the world with their art, letters, science and industry. While Europe was sunk in profound ignorance, the Arabs studied and produced literature. The passion displayed in the Renaissance scarcely equalled the passion of the Arabs. Libraries were founded and Arabic became the language of Asia and Africa. A school for interpreting Greek writings was opened in Baghdad upon which money was lavished. Hospitals were opened wherein physicians had to submit to difficult examinations before being permitted to practise. Laboratories for experimenting with plants and minerals were established. The Arabs were the creators of chemistry. It has been said that they erred by giving too much attention to alchemy and astrology. But as chemistry cannot deny its parent alchemy and as astronomy owes its start in life to astrology, this statement cannot receive much consideration.

Decorative art was actually cultivated in Baghdad in spite of the check placed upon sculpture and painting by the Koran. Agriculture was widely encouraged. Flowers and fruits were brought from Persia and cultivated. The wines of Shiraz and Ispahan left the places of their origin to become staples in Baghdad and to be exported throughout Asia. Mines yielding iron, lead and other minerals were worked. Beautiful fabrics woven with silver threads were manufactured in Baghdad and in all the cities of the Iraq.

Holders of this symbol had something to do with the development of this Arab culture.

Charmed with having invented rhyme, the Arabs used it for everything, from their love messages to the adoration of their prophet. Poetry was an occupation which they invented the serenade to express. Europe was inventing chivalry while Baghdad was teaching the qualities which go to the making of a gentleman. Women were in the harem, not because they were subjugated but because they were protected—because the inflammable, poetic Arab (who could fall in love with the story of a woman’s beauty) did not trust himself. We should not blame the Mohammedans for the harem. We should put the blame where it belongs—on Solomon the Wise. The Arab women were neither punished nor bought. Women were respected until the religion of the Prophet was corrupted by the fierce apostolicism of the Turk.

Women who hold this symbol and struggle for their daily existence may long for the golden age of Baghdad, when the protection of the harem came round them like a loving arm, when the dark-eyed men of the desert lavished upon them their devotion and their substance, when they were someone’s “heart of a rose,” with time to study music, dancing and poetry.

But the soul seeks all experiences and the struggle is as necessary for its development as the golden life of Islam.

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The symbol of this week, the 9th of October to the 15th, is the Three Circles. One of the circles is broken. This symbol denotes kindness and consideration of others. Life should not be a struggle for these people unless they have contracted unfortunate ties. They possess the gift of healing and often they have power over the insane. They should remember that there is much they cannot put right, so they should waste no time grieving about it. Many opportunities come their way after their thirty-sixth year. Independence is the key-note of their character, and they seldom ask anyone to help them unless they are ill or in some desperate state.

This symbol refers to Germany during the reigns of Henry, the first of the Saxon fine, and Otto the Great.

Henry, who was proclaimed king at Fritzlar by a majority of votes, found Germany in an unsettled state. Before he could pursue the course he had decided upon, he had to win over the states which were against him. The Southern Germans had not acknowledged him and Bavaria remained in an unsettled condition. Henry, considering the disagreement of the people, showed considerable astuteness in the way he handled the situation. He knew that it would be impossible to administer the various dissenting states from one centre. Only through a very liberal organization could a union of the people be established. He decided that each state should rule itself (so far as its own affairs were concerned) according to its old rights and traditions. A duke, he decided, should settle the disputes among the lords and govern the state in times of war and peace.

In the sixth year of his reign he had united the German tribes with himself as overlord. He had accomplished this quietly, almost stealthily, without the shedding of German blood. With this bond of unity the various German states became conscious of their nationality. It was as strong an alliance as a monarchy, of that period, could produce.

Holders of this symbol were the dukes, the nobles and the people of those German states.

What is called luck, but what was really most unusual foresight, kept pace with Henry during the early part of his reign. He, like every German of his time, feared the Hungarians. Wherever they came everything was laid desolate—castles, cloisters, churches and the dwellings of poor peasants were reduced to ashes. Men, women and children were slaughtered. People fled when they heard of the approach of the Hungarians and hid in forests and caves.

Henry dared not meet the superior forces of his enemy in open battle. When the Hungarians were marching on Saxony, he, with certain of his faithful followers, shut himself in Werla, his fortified castle. His men managed to capture a prominent Hungarian, whom they brought before the king. Henry saw his chance. He knew the captive stood in high favour. He refused the gold and silver which was offered for the release of the captive, and promised to return the man if the Hungarians would agree to a nine years’ truce and a yearly tribute paid by the Saxons. The Hungarians agreed, and Henry started on one of the most rapid building schemes on record.

Before the Hungarians had descended upon them the Saxons had lived in detached houses standing alone in fields or meadows. Scattered here and there were the castles of the nobles and the seats of the bishops and monks. Henry had the forts enlarged and new ones built. Day and night the people worked, many of them holders of this symbol, to surround the buildings with walls and ramparts. In the circumstances they must be forgiven for joining houses together in ugly lines, such as are still seen.

With his idea of establishing an army, Henry opened an asylum for criminals at Mersburg. These warlike bandits populated the town and made it capable of defence. People of this symbol were probably among them.

After the houses were joined together, the people, quite rightly, regarded them as prisons. Henry had to teach them how to live in enclosed places. When the building was finished and the Saxons were ready to receive stronger enemies, Henry hatched a plan in his astute mind whereby he could get his men in fighting trim. He made war on the Wend tribes because they happened to be the nearest enemies to his new empire. He conquered them. He was now ready for the Hungarians, and the nine years’ truce had almost expired.

On the ninth year he refused to pay the tribute, and the enemy appeared. He defeated the Hungarians so successfully that no Hungarian was seen again on German soil during his reign. Great was the rejoicing among holders of this symbol when the Hungarians were routed.

Henry was to strike at the last enemy of the Saxons, the Danes. This unconquerable old hero at the close of his life led his army against the Danes. He forced Gorm, the king of the Danes, to sue for peace. He then re-established the former boundaries and gave the abandoned districts as fiefs to his Saxon warriors.

People of this sign who lived during his reign had a great instructor, who taught them (if they learned) the lesson of preparedness.

Otto, unlike Henry, decided upon a centralized government. His wars upon the dukes (certain of them holders of this symbol) were too numerous to mention in detail. Every duke in the kingdom was at one time or another in rebellion against him. At first he was beaten, but finally he conquered the dukes. He then, like Napoleon, decided to set up members of his own family. He also realized what an ally the Church could be, so he decided to be the protector of the Church and its reformer.

His appointments were fortunate, for no more attractive character than Bruno, who as chancellor carried out his reforms, appears in the history of that time. This great man comes under this symbol. He brought intellect into the clergy and tried to deliver it from superstition. He taught science, geometry, music and astronomy. His charming personality was as unusual as the superiority of his mind. From the court his teaching spread throughout the kingdom. The literature was monastic and ascetic, but straightforward and upright. In spite of its rather dogmatic scholasticism it represents the spirit of the German people. A civilization was being established, which, affecting only the highest ranks of society at first, gradually changed the conditions of German life. People of this symbol were the bishops, the priests, the writers, the musicians and the peasants of those days.

Like Henry, Otto had to subdue the Hungarians; and, like Henry, he conquered them. For a quarter of a century he had no higher title than king of the Franks; then he received the imperial crown which, by uniting Roman and Teuton, was to form the structure upon which society was to rest.

Otto attained his aim—all the states which had gone out from the empire of Charlemagne had become his and consequently possessions of the German nation. When he passed on peace and security reigned throughout his empire, but peace and security are words which mean nothing. Peace is a heritage the world has never received from a conqueror. What Bruno established remains, but no conqueror has ever added the hundredth part of an inch to the world’s stature. The finest government cannot endure and no blood-bath will ever cleanse humanity.

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The symbol for this week, the 16th of October to the 22nd, is the Drifting Boat. It denotes people who are exhilarating and amusing. They act before they think, but they can always offer an explanation for their actions. Their minds are very active, but their mental vision is not always clear. Stupid people get on their nerves and they have little time for them. In early life they are frequently in and out of love. At all costs they follow their own inclinations, never taking advice, but often assuming an air of interest when listening to it.

They lived in Ireland during the reigns of Henry VIII, Mary and Elizabeth. The English had ruled in Ireland for three and a half centuries when Henry undertook the reformation of the country.

The country at that time was divided into counties called Regions. These Regions were ruled by chieftains, who called themselves kings, princes, and dukes. These rulers had no regard for imperial jurisdiction. They lived by the sword, obeying no one. They constantly made war on each other and on their subjects. Petty chiefs became popular over-night and launched revolutions on their own. The English captains appointed by the king followed the lead of the Irish chieftains, and arranged for war or peace without any order from the king. As a matter of fact, the Irish people gave them little time to obtain the king’s licence. The courts were in such a depraved condition that men gave up their freeholds rather than submit to extortion. The clergy went its own way, disregarding the habits of the people and leaving the preaching to the poorer friars.

In the twelfth century the Irish Celts had a political organization and a sort of nationality. Justice was administered among them according to a definite code; but at the beginning of the sixteenth century there was neither national unity, law nor organization. Civil war was the order of the day. The English king had no power in Ireland. The English conquest was admittedly a failure, and the Irish question confronted the English statesmen. If England was to control Ireland something had to be done.

When Henry VIII attempted to govern Ireland royal authority was held within very narrow limits known as the English pale. This comprised the principal seaports with one half of five counties. The rest of Ireland was divided among the chieftains of Irish and English origin.

The war with France caused Henry to recall his English governor, Thomas Howard, who with the vigour of his administration was beginning to impress the Irish. The government of Ireland was then conferred on Butler, Earl of Ormonde, who was compelled to resign it to Kildare, who transferred it to somebody, who again transferred it to somebody, until the list of people who held the office resembles nothing so much as the begetting chapter of the Bible. The last of the list had just time to throw the reins of the government to his twenty-one-year-old son when Henry confined him in the Tower. The son, hearing the false report that his father had been beheaded, declared war against the king of England. His revenge was finally satisfied by the execution of Allen, archbishop of Dublin, whom he blamed for his father’s misfortune.

Holders of this symbol were these warlike chieftains, these petty chiefs, these inflammable politicians, these members of the clergy and the people who suffered under them.

In this chaotic country Henry launched his new religion. At first the Irish and the English colonists viewed it with abhorrence. Certain of the clergy became champions of the ancient faith. Others supported the king. Still others waited to see what the outcome would be. They had not long to wait, for Henry abolished the papal authority and made himself head of the Irish church, demanding the first-fruits of all ecclesiastical livings.

The new religion was one more thing for the chieftains to fight over. They took sides for the Catholic and the Protestant faiths. This religious struggle is still unfinished in Ireland.

The Irish church was soon full of scandalous irregularities. Henry suppressed the monasteries and took the land. The friars were turned out of doors, but they continued to preach among the people, especially the mendicant orders. The English government hesitated for some time before the official establishment of Protestantism. Very gradually the clergy denounced the mass. Men shrank in horror when first the mass was forbidden, but in time they became accustomed to the new order. At the time of Henry’s passing the English ascendancy in Ireland seemed to rest on a firmer basis than it did at the beginning of his reign.

Those of you who were living when Mary came to the throne saw the mass restored. Mary decided to reunite the church to the Catholic Church of Rome and to restore the ancient ritual, but she was not willing to resign any prerogative of the crown or to restore any property. Holding the property her father had confiscated, she professed herself zealous on behalf of the Catholic Church. Sir Anthony St. Leger restored the mass, but it was not until 1556 that Parliament assisted in the restoration of the Church. A bull was obtained from Pope Paul IV to legalize the course of legislation to be taken with regard to Church property. The crown, however, continued to make grants of the estates of the monasteries down to the end of Mary’s reign.

No attempt was made to reunite the English and Irish inhabitants of Ireland upon a common basis of religious confession. The chieftains and people who had subscribed to Protestantism—certain holders of this symbol—saw to it that Mary’s accession was attended with new outbreaks. Catholic sovereigns tried to enforce order in Ireland, as Protestant sovereigns had done during Henry’s reign. The government fell back into its violent yet feeble measures of former days. When Mary passed on the Catholic Church was but a shadow of what it once had been in Ireland. The monastic element was destroyed and the independence of its secular members was crushed.

Upon Elizabeth’s accession it scarcely retained any element of resistance. Elizabeth knew that the absolute command of Ireland was necessary to her purpose. This great queen always connived at what she could not prevent, and waited for an opportunity to force her will. By these means she took most of the tricks in the political game.

She introduced into Ireland arts and industry, hoping to lure the people from the lust of conquest. Nothing could lure the Irish from the lust of conquest, and her campaign produced an extraordinary loss of life and property—but it secured England for the time from the danger of foreign attack through Ireland.

Elizabeth had scripture texts substituted for “pictures and popish fancies,” and Parliament restored the ecclesiastical legislation of Henry.

Holders of this symbol knew that much could be said against Elizabeth’s policy in Ireland. But they also knew that she had to expend most of her energy in her death struggle with Spain. Eventually she conquered Ireland, which her predecessors had failed to do, but like all conquerors who conquer by coercion, hers was nothing but a surface victory. Wandering friars and subtle Jesuits were more powerful than any government, for they kept alive the faith of the people.

Elizabeth’s one successful English institution was the university.

Holders of this symbol saw many changes in the government of Ireland—but no change in the temperament of the people. The dogged determination to have their own way is as marked in these people to-day as it was in Ireland.

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This week’s symbol—the 23rd of October to the 29th—is the Arrow. People of this symbol are not concerned with the present. Their mind is always on the future. They plan, save, invest—all for to-morrow. They will never die in the workhouse, if this fact is any consolation to them—but it might be better to enjoy the present a little more. Men of this sign may think to buy flowers for their wives, but they will never feel to buy them. This is the symbol of calculation. It would seem at times that some mischievous fate meddles with their destiny; but this is not what is happening. Life is teaching them certain lessons which they must learn by certain tests. They must acquire a sense of spiritual values.

This symbol relates to Carthage. If one were to visit the town of Carthage to-day and climb the hill where the St. Louis Hotel stands, one would be on the site once occupied by the Carthaginian fortress. If one stood on one of the balconies of the hotel, the gulf of Tunis would be seen, a beautiful stretch of water, which once furnished anchorage for the Phoenician ships when Carthage was the first commercial city of her time. In Roman times this city, not completely restored, became the third city of the Empire. Even to-day, when conditions are not too favourable, the city still thrives and has a certain amount of industrial prosperity.

Holders of this symbol lived in Carthage when she was the first (commercial) city of antiquity. The Carthaginians were an offshoot of the Canaanites who occupied Palestine before the Jewish invasion. Their language closely resembled Hebrew and they were of Semitic origin. Their history consists of a struggle between the Semitic and the Aryan races.

With one exception Carthage was an ancient New York. The exception occurred in the government. Carthage was controlled by the aristocrats, the hundred judges, who could purchase the offices—so corrupt was the system. Like New York, Carthage was not interested in war, but, like New York, she could fight when compelled to, as she proved when the stream of Greek migration poured down upon her. She realized then that if she were not to be utterly annihilated it was time for her to show resistance in earnest. In long and determined wars she set a limit to the encroachment; and Hellenism was unable to establish itself west of the Desert of Tripoli. Her victory gave her the control of a portion of the Mediterranean. With this control she assumed supremacy in trade.

The Semitic race, then as now, knew how to invest capital. With it the Carthaginians acquired vast tracts of land, which they cultivated by means of slave labour. Chained slaves tilled the ground. Certain wealthy individuals possessed as many as twenty thousand slaves. The grain planted and harvested by the slaves was exported; and Carthage became richer and richer.

Holders of this symbol were the merchant princes or the slaves of this powerful North African empire.

With the rise of Carthage went the decline of the Phoenician cities in the mother country. Sidon, like a waning moon, was losing her brilliance. The prosperity of Tyre was a thing of the past. The noble families and the commercial houses of Tyre moved to Carthage, taking with them their capital and their traditions.

Carthage developed her maritime strength. She built ships—the first ships having three banks of oars. The rowers were slaves who never left the galleys. They were well drilled and brutally treated. These ships made Carthage superior to Rome on the sea. The Carthaginian arsenals were well stocked with war-machines, treasuries were filled to enable the judges to hire mercenaries to fight their wars for them—for fighting took them away from their beloved commerce.

They were doomed from the first, because nothing held them together but their love of gain. Their civilization was utterly material. They produced neither art nor literature and only a few men of outstanding genius. They oppressed their subjects, who were ever ready to rise against them. Rome was bound to conquer such a people, for she possessed the qualities of an imperial race. But Rome was to learn from fallen Carthage how to exploit her subjects and how to bring her intellect to the service of capital.

Holders of this symbol did not see the Roman conquest. They knew Carthage when she expressed herself in the amount of her revenue, when she made loans to foreign governments, when she used, besides her gold coins, money made of a worthless material, but having the exchange value of gold—thus anticipating our present currency. Could she have had a stock exchange she might have founded our modern system of speculation.

Her religion was cruel and consisted of bloody atrocities. She worshipped the god Moloch, mentioned in 1 Kings xi. 7 as the abomination of the children of Ammon. Moloch was the title of a god of Judah who was worshipped with human sacrifices; but to believe, as certain people do, that live bodies were hurled into the brazen image to be consumed by fire is erroneous. The victims were slain at the sanctuary and afterwards burnt on a tophet—a funeral pyre. Human sacrifice is a very ancient form of worship. In the past we offered human bodies to the bloody Eastern gods in the name of religion. To-day we sacrifice them in war to another ideal.

Carthage herself was finally delivered to the flames by her conquerors—the greatest of all sacrifices to Moloch. Under the ashes she lay for years, until, like the phoenix, she arose again. When she awoke in the sixteenth century she saw a mosque, a university without students, a few shops and the huts of a hundred peasants where her former glory once stood. To-day she is more prosperous. She has the hotel previously mentioned and many pretty villas. In a small way she is again interested in commerce.

Tourists who visit her now find nothing but the broken arches of the ancient aqueduct to remind them of the arrogance and wealth of the Punic judges.

Holders of this symbol have a karmic debt to pay and many lessons to learn.

November

The symbol for this week, the 30th of October to the 5th of November, is the Crescent and the Lamp. It denotes adaptability, tact and understanding. Holders of this symbol can change their minds at a moment’s notice, leaving their associates bewildered. Their mentality, which seems to know the result of things in advance, was acquired in past existences. All sorts of subjects interest these people. Many of them have extreme manual skill. They appreciate art and beauty and they are very unhappy in disharmonious surroundings. Original thinkers and artists with creative ability have this symbol well placed in their charts. People born this week are usually well endowed with a reasoning mind, and they can keep to their course in a rough sea. They are optimistic and, in certain cases, very sensitive.

This symbol relates to China—to the T’ang Dynasty, which reached radiant heights in immortal beauty, in poetry, literature and painting. The leisure and wealth necessary for the production of great art was achieved by a sane government which thought more of beauty than of conquest.

The T’angs were not bent upon creation, but upon perfecting that which was already created. They erected many Buddhist temples and temples for the blessing of agriculture. Large statues did not appeal to their graceful minds so much as delicate ornaments and cave statuary. The Hans had made sculpture-filled avenues to the famous tombs. These were kept up and increased by the T’angs.

Holders of this symbol worked in bronze, marble, wood, lacquer and jade. They fashioned the gods the meditative Kuanyins, and the eight immortals.

The wonder-working Li-Tai-Po and Tu Fu, now wearers of this symbol, reached heights of poetic beauty never since attained.

With a few strokes of an inked brush people to whom this symbol now belongs could produce jagged mountains, the chill of falling snow, the earth-stab in fierce rain and the dream in languid rivers. These artists needed no canvas, no easel. A piece of rice-paper stretched on the ground, a brush, an inkpot and their extreme sensitiveness were their materials. But had not security been a certainty, their genius would have been lost to the world.

Li Yüan founded the T’ang Dynasty, but he thought more of concubines, luxury, palaces and horses than of his country. It is seldom that a Chinese father listens to advice from his son, but Li Yüan listened to the advice of his courageous and brilliant son Li Shih-min, who constantly had to force his father to stand up against tyranny. On one occasion he told his father that if he would face conditions he would place him on the throne. He kept his word. Later he promised to rid China of the Turkish peril; and again he kept his word. His brothers, who like all weaklings hated what they could not emulate, tried to poison him. When this scheme failed they tried to have him killed by assassins. He was too clever for them. The poison he refused to take and the assassins he shot. His father, who really feared him, abdicated in his favour and retired with his beloved concubines and horses.

Li Shih-min knew how to build a peaceful and prosperous country. He called a peace meeting in his capital, Ch’ang-an, and sacrificed a white horse while he accepted oaths of alliance from all the tribes. He induced the nomads to exchange cattle for the merchants’ silk. This ended the degradation of seeing men instead of oxen harnessed to ploughs.

Triumph after triumph came to Li Shih-min, but it was really T’ai Tsung who made the T’ang Dynasty the brightest jewel of the Dragon Throne. He divided the country into ten administrative districts and placed a governor over each one. For this office the applicants were obliged to interpret the classics.

T’ai Tsung put honesty in the place of flattery and he encouraged the free discussion of opinions. Though averse to Buddhism, he never tried to influence the people in their religious beliefs. He was blessed with the quality of mercy and would pardon all the inmates of a prison if they promised to do better. “Death” sentences had to be submitted to him eight times before they could be carried out. On days of public executions he would not allow meat on his table. Simplicity and economy were the fashions at his court. On several occasions the number of palace women was reduced by his order. His wife, a woman of great culture, wrote a book on advice to women. When the Mohammedans came to China to convert the Chinese to Islam at the point of the sword, they found T’ai Tsung blocking the road to their violent salvation. When Persia became a vassal of the Arab caliphate, he invited the king of Persia to Ch’ang-an, where he ended his days. He treated all men as equals, but he placed the administration of the country in the hands of the poets, painters, mystics and philosophers. To such men the greatness of the T’ang Dynasty was due. If soldiers and politicians had been in power the history of the T’ang would have been a series of brawls between the Chinese and the various invaders.

Men of this symbol were the scholars, the priests, the bandits, the beggars, the merchants and the agriculturists of the T’ang Dynasty. Women holding this symbol were the wives, the concubines or the servants. The wealthy women who had little to do but dress and be carried through the streets of Ch’ang-an in their lacquered chairs knew the pitiless beauty of the city, the enchantment of it which some unseen magic seemed to evoke, the distant hills which were carved on the misted grey of the clouds, and the long slender bamboo which looked like spray against the gloom. The teeming city was full of a thousand odds and ends. A coating of dirt lay on everything like a thick lacquer the dirt in some way making everything picturesque, as manure heightens the beauty of a rose. All was nervous, full of emotion and change, but the whirling tempo had no confusion in it. It was as if Peace rushed from one place to another touching everything, bringing confidence to the people.

Through the temple doors the gods could be seen with their arms extended. Everything was in a begging attitude, for the T’angs could think of so many postures of supplication—always the prayer for something—with a smile at the end of it.

The poorer people, the brigands and the beggars, living in dilapidated little houses, eating a little tasteless rice, wearing anything they could find, could step out from the sordidness into an Eastern dusk made of flame and violet and the scent of flowers, and watch the last brilliant bird alight on his tree; listen to the music of the evening breeze; trace the lacy shadows as they crept closer to vanish under the buildings. There was no poverty in such an existence. It was slain by the hand of beauty.

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The symbol for this week, the 6th of November to the 12th, is the Closed Drawbridge. It denotes people who are outwardly calm but inwardly emotional, romantic and sentimental. They can keep their opinions to themselves, and if life betrays them they seldom whine about it. They are naturally frank, and when they incline to speech they are in the habit of “speaking their mind.” Concealment is useful, however, and they seldom tell all they know. They are apt to lose heart in adversity. While they do not prepare for the future, they plan wisely in their daily lives. They often rise to unexpected heights by their own efforts. Others seldom advance them, but they pass many of fortune’s favourites on life’s road. The women have an original way of doing things—but they get things done. Occult science attracts many people of this sign. This symbol relates to Wales in the reign of Edward I.

Edward was ambitious and determined to control the whole of Great Britain. He conquered Wales. His scheme for subduing Scotland did not actually fail until after his “death,” so he lived with the certainty of having defeated all opponents.

For a long time the Welsh princes and barons purchased peace by promising tribute and by recognizing the suzerainty of the English throne. Edward advanced his feudal superiority as his right to control Wales. When a man is bent upon conquest he can invent any number of excuses to force others to yield to his will—or to ease his own conscience.

What is known as civilization had been advancing in England and retrograding in Wales. The generous, hospitable Welsh people were concerned with poetry, with their wild native music and with their agricultural duties. They were poor, rudely dressed and with but few material refinements. Unequal to their opponents in every way, they still made a gallant stand for liberty.

At the time of Edward’s aggression north Wales was free of English arms, but the English had established themselves in Monmouthshire and held a large portion of south Wales. The barons had effected this occupation gradually by operating at their own expense and with their own retainers. As they advanced they built their own fortifications and castles, which they placed within communicating distance of each other. These lords were rewarded with the lands they had taken from the Welsh people. The Welsh destroyed the castles when they could, but the persevering invaders drew their fortified chains more closely round them.

The jealousies of the petty princes and the feuds of the clans defeated the resistance made by the loyal Welsh. Immediately after the recognition of Edward a summons had been issued to Llewelyn (the ruler of the northern principality) to do homage as one of the vassals. Llewelyn insisted that he could not safely visit the court of a monarch who violated the terms of a treaty concluded by the mediation of the Pope and who received disloyal Welshmen. He demanded hostages by way of security. Edward then displayed his enmity in a childish and dastardly manner. He despatched ships in pursuit of Llewelyn’s fiancée, who was on her way from France to Wales. She was taken as prisoner to England, where she was detained for more than two years.

Edward then summoned all his vassals. He opened roads into the fastnesses of Snowdon. He repaired castles and built new ones. Surrounded by such enemies, the prince of North Wales agreed to the conditions of peace imposed by the conqueror. Everything was ceded except Anglesey, the ancient refuge of poets and princes. This also was to revert to the king on the failure of male issue to Llewelyn. Llewelyn reproached himself for sacrificing his country, but the capture of his fiancée and the king’s demands had made him desperate.

Holders of this symbol were either the discouraged Welsh or the king’s allies.

The people of Wales said they would never submit to strangers in spite of what their prince had done.

The king’s army reached Anglesey by a bridge of boats over the Menai Strait. Llewelyn defeated the English invaders, killing or drowning the greater number in their retreat to the mainland. The king was obliged to seek safety in one of his own castles.

Llewelyn, asking the chiefs of the neighbourhood to meet him, went with a few attendants to Builth. Either through fear or perfidy the princes deserted their gallant leader. They fell upon him and sent his head to Edward, who commanded it to be placed on the Tower of London.

The following year Llewelyn’s brother, Prince David, was tried before an English parliament, when he was convicted of high treason for defending his country. His body was drawn asunder by horses—the horrible punishment for treason which it took five hundred years to abolish.

Edward remained in Wales for more than a year after the death of Llewelyn. He divided the country into shires after the manner of England. He offered peace to all the inhabitants, assuring them that they should enjoy their land and liberty. A few of the ancient customs of the country were continued, but generally the English laws were enforced. When his queen Eleanor bore him a son in the castle of Carnarvon, he presented the infant Edward to the Welsh people as their countryman, saying that as he was born among them he should be their prince.

Holders of this symbol were the poets and musicians as well as the fighting men of Wales. To-day they are a strange blend of the practical and the idealistic.

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The symbol for this week, the 13th of November to the 19th, is the Man in Chains. People of this sign do not lack courage, but theirs is the courage of endurance and resignation. Happiness lies in friendship rather than in love with these people. They can appear very innocent while covering extreme shrewdness. They value their own opinion and they are quite capable of forming it; but they will often throw up everything because someone has “got on their nerves.” Their lesson in this life is tolerance. These are they who prove that

“Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage.”

Their own natures often make prisoners of them.

This symbol relates to Rome in the time of Tiberius.

History considers Tiberius an enigma, but his symbols indicate that he was the victim of relentless women. He was Emperor of Rome, but he was never master in his own house. Like many people born during this week, discouragement rendered him incapable of judgment. He resented interference, but instead of openly opposing it he would brood over it until he became morbid and revengeful.

While this is the symbol of Rome at his time, it happened also to be his symbol. He was born on the 16th of November, 42 B.C., at midnight. He entered Rome with a heavy karmic debt which he did nothing to pay but much to increase. He came of an ambitious Glaudian family, members of which had achieved twenty-eight consulates, five dictatorships and seven censorships. His mother, Livia, had been given by her complacent husband to Octavius. This brought the young Tiberius into the house of Caesar. Being a member of the imperial household, he received such education as was given to the nephews and grandsons of Augustus.

As a young man he was brilliant. He fought in Spain and in the Alps, governed Gaul, subdued the Pannonians, conquered the Germans, transported thousands of barbarians into Belgium and resettled the empire after the defeat of Varus. As a matter of fact, he executed with unusual brilliance every commission with which he was charged by his step-father.

Holders of this symbol were the officers and soldiers in his various campaigns.

In the camp Tiberius was a man of courage, determination and foresight. In Rome he refused the temples offered him, discouraged the flatterers of the Senate, used strict economy with regard to finance, kept prices down to help the people at the merchants’ expense and kept his army under perfect discipline. When not able to absent himself from Rome he sent able governors to the provinces, who avoided increasing the taxes and relieved the misery where they could. Certain places ruined by earthquake he exempted from taxation for five years. This was the man who could find no peace at home.

His mother, accustomed to deference from her husband, ruled her son with a rod of iron. His wife boldly defied his mother. These feminine battles divided the court and fostered hatred among the courtiers. Tiberius stayed away from home as much as possible, attending to his various duties. He consolidated his unwieldy empire and prepared for the ultimate annexation of more territory. He knew how to use power without exciting envy by a useless display of it. He would allow nothing to be done in honour of his birthday, nor permit anyone to swear by his fortune. He was actually modest and retiring, and if he could have sent a few quarrelsome women about their business his end would have been less tragic.

In spite of the efforts he made wisely to govern the country, it cannot be said that Rome enjoyed any moral tranquillity. Profligacy had become so shameless that women of good family had entered the list of professed courtesans. Senators and knights had been ordered by Tiberius to show no respect to men of good families if they were found engaged in plays or public shows. This order caused such young men to submit to the mark of infamy in order to appear with safety on the stage or in the arena. Tiberius was conducting what we would call to-day a vice crusade, while endeavouring not to destroy any wholesome freedom of the people; but like many henpecked men, he was forcing his will wherever he could outside the home. A fatal change was taking place in his psychology which he himself did not realize.

Holders of this symbol found Rome interesting at the time. There was plenty of scope for the ventilation of opinions, for love affairs and, in some cases, for making money.

Augustus, urged by Livia, compelled Tiberius to divorce his wife and to marry Julia, the profligate daughter of Augustus. Soon after this marriage one of his ministers, Sejanus, formed a plan for destroying Tiberius by the means his family had used—that of undermining his moral fibre. Sejanus began with the ancient method of elimination. He poisoned certain members of Tiberius’s family on his way to the destruction of the Emperor. He also enlisted Livia’s help in his plans for destruction. He persuaded Tiberius that the air of Rome was injuring his health and advised him to go to the country. Tiberius, being glad of any excuse for leaving Julia and his heartless mother, retired to Rhodes, where for seven years he studied astrology. He never returned to Rome and it is quite clear that he never intended to return. He was disheartened and ill, and he had developed a skin affection which made him somewhat unsightly.

After rambling from place to place he finally decided to make the Island of Capreae (Capri) his permanent abode. He speedily converted the pretty little island into a den of iniquity. There was no vicious practice he did not indulge in, while trying to hide his acts under a veil of secrecy. His mind became darkened by superstition and gloom and finally by insanity. Much attention has been called to his debauchery on the Island of Capri, but very little to the desperate state in which he found himself. He is a lesson to anyone who fails to crush domestic bickering at the outset. Driven from home, he might have tried to create a new life for himself, but he chose to steep his mind in useless hatred until madness destroyed him.

I have dwelt at length upon his shortcomings because holders of this symbol have many of his characteristics. Happily certain traits remain latent and never cause their possessors any regret, but the secrecy, the defiance instead of patience in adversity, the inclination to discouragement, and the desperation born of failure are traits belonging to this symbol. Two types are represented by this symbol—the developed and the undeveloped. No finer character exists than the mentally and spiritually developed holder of this symbol. He can make his very vices into virtues and his limitations into success.

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The symbol for this week, the 20th of November to the 26th, is the Winged Serpent. It denotes charm, an even temper and a sense of justice. These people are inclined to be idealistic when young, but they become practical as they grow older. Many of them are very critical. Possessed of quiet efficiency, they can handle two jobs equally well at the same time. In the past their duality expressed itself in strange ways. They are intuitive, but they seldom heed their intuition. They listen to advice with a smile, but they seldom accept it. They are inclined to compromise—but their word once given they usually keep it. Sacrifice belongs to this symbol and holders of it may be called upon to make sacrifices for those weaker than themselves.

This symbol relates to Sweden in the reign of Gustavus Vasa. Gustavus was allied to the family of Sture, his own name being Ericson. When he was still but a boy he quarrelled with Christian of Denmark who had him kidnapped and carried off to Denmark, where he was kept in confinement with other nobles as a hostage. Inside a year he managed to escape in disguise to Lubeck, then to Sweden, where he went about from place to place with a price on his head. With great danger to himself he tried to rouse the Swedes to resistance against the Danes. While so engaged poverty forced him to work on farms and in the mines.

The degrading “blood-bath” of Stockholm (1520) was the torch which set off the slumbering fury of the Swedes and gave Gustavus his opportunity. The miners gathered round him, and soon he had an army large enough to attack the enemy.

Holders of this symbol were among the miners who, infuriated by the blood-lust of the Danes, rallied to the call of Gustavus.

One by one the towns were taken by Gustavus and his men, and the capture of Stockholm drove the Danes from Sweden and caused the fall of the Scandinavian Union, which had survived the treaty of Kalmar for more than 126 years.

After Gustavus was crowned he worked desperately to reclaim his unhappy country. He encountered a restless peasantry, a wealthy and corrupt Roman clergy and a Lutheran party trying to force its dogmas on the entire country. Sweden was completely demoralized, the people respecting neither law nor religion.

A monarch with less insight, patience and courage would not have dared to abase the clergy as Gustavus did. Without appearing to be an enemy, he decided to rid the country of the clergy. He began by nominating to the vacant sees such ecclesiastics as he knew were devoted to his will. His next object was to encourage in an underhand manner the preaching of the Lutheran doctrines. When his Lutherans were sufficiently strong he threw off his mask and confiscated all the Papal property and funds. Then he took care that the Lutherans should be dependent on the crown and enjoy only moderate privileges. He had really no partiality for the Reformation. The encouragement of it was simply a means to stop the clergy from obtaining large sums of money from the people.

The Reformation, however, did what nothing else could have done at that time. It forced the people to read. They had to know if the new doctrines justified the forsaking of the old. The only way to discover this for themselves was to learn to read, and the king had asked them to familiarize themselves with religious matters and to use their own judgment in the interpretation of God’s Word. This was a clever move. It gave the people the impression that the king valued their opinion. Whatever his faults might have been, Gustavus promoted trade at home and abroad. He established schools and colleges and built roads, bridges and canals. When he passed on Sweden was a peaceful country with a full exchequer and a well-organized army.

Holders of this symbol were his soldiers, his discarded or reformed clergy, the merchants, the builders and the teachers of his time.

During his reign frugality and simplicity were encouraged in the daily life. Pomp and display were reserved for special occasions.

Holders of this symbol would have been appalled by their Swedish homes—judged by the present standards.

Linen or paper was used instead of glass in the windows. The hearth took the place of the stove, and rooms were never free from smoke. Coarse carpets covered the bare and ugly walls. Benches attached to the walls furnished sleeping accommodation. A huge table in the centre of the chief room was used for every purpose. Small stools were pushed under it when meals were finished. Plates were scarce and they were never changed, no matter how many varieties of food appeared. Each guest brought his own knife, fork and spoon. Dinner was prepared at ten in the morning and supper at five in the afternoon. Bed was usually sought soon after supper. Clothes were woollen and not changed too frequently.

The women wore long, tight-fitting frocks with high neck-ruffles. Their hair was combed straight back from their foreheads. The men wore Spanish dress. Their hair was kept short, but they allowed their beards to grow unhampered.

Wax candles were luxuries permitted only in churches. In the homes tallow candles were used. Arms were continually worn. Knights entered the bridal-bed in full armour. Journeys were made on horseback, for the roads were seldom wide enough to allow carriages to pass. In spite of the Reformation, the peasants believed in witchcraft, fairies and elves. The science of medicine consisted of exorcism, prayers and potions.

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From the 27th of November to the 3rd of December the weekly symbol is the Wolf with the Bird’s Claw. This is one of the karmic symbols. If people of this symbol could tap their memory, they might solve many problems in their present existence. They have vision and the gift of prophecy, but they are scarcely aware of these gifts. They are very restless and change of scene is necessary occasionally if they are to do their best work. This can be overdone, however, and they can rush from one place to another without accomplishing anything.

Many of them meet with some misfortune in early life which robs them for years of an optimistic outlook. In later years they see the disaster in its true proportions and they realize that it could have been avoided. What they do not realize is that it was a karmic lesson. Women holding this symbol are often extremely brilliant, but the men rally from misfortune more speedily.

This symbol relates to Portugal when her first king, Alfonso, was reigning.

Alfonso was the founder of a new dynasty in a society equally new. The history of Portugal really begins with the gift of the fief of the Terra Portugalensis to Count Henry of Burgundy in 1094. With the rest of the Iberian peninsula, Portugal was colonized by the Phoenicians and conquered by the Carthaginians. After the Roman occupation it was conquered by the Arabs in the eighth century. It was not until the fifteenth century that an attempt was made to identify Lusitania with Portugal.

If the early Portuguese had been less romantic, less fond of adventure, they might have retained their maritime conquests. If Vasco da Gama, Dias and Albuquerque had imitated the prudence of their Dutch rivals, the country might have become a great power. If the Portuguese had been less childlike, less given to poetic fancy, less inclined to hero worship, the French and the English would not have invaded their treasury, paralysed their industries and exploited their land.

Such as the country was, Alfonso undertook to unify and to govern it. If we examine his acts separately we must accuse him of immoderate ambition and cruelty. His outrageous treatment of the Saracens, and his conduct towards his son-in-law cannot pass without condemnation; but if we consider his acts as a whole and the barbarous age in which he lived and especially his idea of establishing Portuguese independence, we can make certain allowances for his actions. Successfully to form a nation it is necessary to consider the people as a unit and not as the individuals they are.

Alfonso’s first duty was to give internal and external strength to the nation which he was forming. For this purpose he sought the favour of the Church, which held first place in strength in his day. Then he cultivated the nobles, for they controlled the army. Besides his internal organization he was forced to extend his territory, as it was too small for the establishment of an independent nation. The means to accomplish this were the daring of his army and the fear his name inspired among Christians and Mussulmen. Certain political dexterity was necessary before he could submit the country to war. If we judge his political manoeuvres by patriotism, we might, like the holders of this symbol (when they lived in Portugal), believe that Rome should have bestowed the saint’s crown on this fierce conqueror; but severe morality condemns him without a hearing. In justice we must admit that few nations have been established without bloodshed and that deceit which we call stratagem.

His people so loved him that, after his passing, they preserved with reverence his mantle, which was said to cure disease. In spite of his indiscriminate slaughter of the innocent and guilty and his wild excursions into passion, he bequeathed to his people a nation which has managed (so far) to retain its identity.

Holders of this symbol followed their martial king into almost perpetual war, caring little whether it was against Christians or Moors.

Those who lived during the reign of Alfonso’s son, Sancho, became interested in the ways of peace. Sancho, trying to follow in the footsteps of his illustrious father, wasted the first part of his reign in useless wars. After a conquest he always lost again. In a way this sterile strife benefited his country, for it drew his attention away from the frontiers to the interior of Portugal. He established councils, founded cities and encouraged the peasants to farm the land. History, which estimates greatness by bloodshed and conquest, treats the last years of Sancho’s reign with scorn. He is detested for cultivating fields instead of strewing them with dead bodies.

Sancho’s chief fault was cupidity. All the money he could lay hands on, outside of the amounts he used for national display, he hoarded; but, like most miserly people, he forgot that the shroud has no pockets. In his will he left more than three million cruzados of the actual currency. These riches can only indicate a too violent system of taxation. The respite from war, however, gave the holders of this symbol an opportunity to study art, music, literature, commerce and agriculture.

Women of this period were unduly interested in religion, unless they were married and given to domestic pursuits. Sainthood was constantly sought, and standardized piety was more eagerly acquired than knowledge. Naturally, in a Latin-Oriental country, there were love, passion and coquetry; but the dark-eyed madonnas tried to vanquish the love of man in the love of God.

December

The symbol for this week, the 4th of December to the 10th, is a Chain consisting of Nine Links. It denotes one whose early life may be full of hardship, but who in middle life may become master of his destiny. People of this symbol can apply themselves to the job in hand even if it is unpleasant. They love nature and beauty, and some of them are much impressed by their surroundings. Loyalty belongs to this sign. Whatever is undertaken by these people is managed to the best of their ability. Gambling is their besetting sin, and while they are often fortunate with speculation they must be warned against gambling. In the face of this I should conceal the fact that nine is their lucky number.

This symbol relates to Rumania in A.D. 106. This was the beginning of a new era in the history of the Dacians (Rumanians).

It was Trajan who converted Dacia into a Roman province after he defeated Decebalus, the last king of the Dacians. Rather than be captured and take orders from Rome, Decebalus committed suicide.

When Trajan established his Roman legions in the country he had conquered, he found that many of the Dacians preferred death to captivity; and he was obliged to repeople the country with colonists drawn from the different provinces of the empire. These people were allowed to divide the land between themselves. Trajan applied himself to regeneration, and introduced into the new province Roman laws and civilization.

As certain holders of this symbol were among those who preferred “death” to captivity, we must look backward and glimpse the character of a people who were governed by tradition rather than reason. The Dacians who inhabited the country to the south of the Danube were noted for their daring and bravery. They had no fear of invaders—a fact they proved when Lysimachus, who succeeded Alexander in Thrace, sought to punish them for aiding his rebellious subjects in Moesia. They conquered him; and only on payment of a heavy fine was he allowed to return to his own country. These early Dacians were equally warlike and religious. They regarded Mars as their ancestor, and they believed in fighting their way through anything. They always carried a quiver filled with arrows which had been dipped in the venom of a serpent. When cultivating their fields they kept one hand on the dagger in their belts and the other on the plough. They respected no law, but decided everything by force. They practised the submission to the mind and will, and believed that life was but a transitory thing preparing them for the dawn of an eternal existence. This scorn of life caused them to weep over a cradle and to dance round a coffin. Such a people would naturally choose “death” to captivity.

When Trajan undertook the government of Dacia he founded schools, built cities, constructed forts, aqueducts and military roads, the traces of which can still be seen. He was kind, liberal and progressive. He permitted the people to think and to say what they pleased. During his life and the life of Adrian, Dacia was one of the most flourishing provinces of the empire. This state of things continued until the barbarian invasions. Later the barbarians forced Gallienus to abandon the colony. It was reconquered by Claudius, and under Aurelian it was still part of the Roman empire. Aurelian, however, was unable to withstand the barbarian flood which threatened to engulf the whole empire, so he decided definitely to withdraw his legions. He opened a place of refuge for the Daco-Roman colonists on the right bank of the river in a province separated from Moesia, to which he gave the name of Dacia. Many of the colonists refused to abandon their country and they remained to get on as best they could with the Gothic nations.

Still proud of the glory of Rome, every Rumanian peasant considers himself descended from his “father Trajan.” To this father he attributes whatever is good in his country. Even the stars and the Milky Way belong somehow to Trajan. His voice booms to them in the thunder and his rain replenishes their crops.

The Roman customs still continue: those which take place at the birth of children, at marriages and at funerals. The Dance of the Galuchares is really the dance of the Sakian priests. Like all Latin or Oriental peasants, the Rumanian peasant dances when he is happy or when he is sad. In all ages and among all people dancing has played an important part. Religious dances and folk dances often give clearer interpretations of a people than written volumes. A student of ethnology must study a foreign language before he can understand a people; but the student of the dance knows a people at once by its expression of physical and spiritual energy. To know Athens we must follow the Athenian to his theatre on the day of the great spring festival of Dionysos.

Holders of this symbol once communed with nature through the dance. They performed worship, devotion, love and hate. They unconsciously knew the rules of rhythm which renew the body. They were strangely superstitious, believing in vampires and werewolves. Their present interest in occultism had its beginning in their belief in witches and curses. Step by step they advanced through the fog of superstition as the science of medicine has emerged from the witches’ potions brewed of dried leaves and dung.

To-day many holders of this symbol take an intelligent interest in occult science. Others are still fumbling about with previous and recently acquired superstitions.

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The symbol for this week, the 11th of December to the 17th, is the Wounded Swan. Appearances mean much to people who were born during these dates. They may experience many disappointments, chiefly because they are inclined to expect too much from others. They are far too intelligent to worry as they do over trifles. Longing for the moon is useless. The person who is in a high position to-day will be in a low position to-morrow. Life deals out no unearned prizes. The “fortunate” person to-day earned his reward in the past. Many holders of this symbol have occupied high positions in previous lives; but all life’s experiences are necessary. Accompanying discontent is the belief (possessed by certain wearers of this symbol) that everything will come out right in the end. It is well to be optimistic, but it is better to direct the will into constructive channels.

This symbol relates to Jerusalem in the reign of Solomon. It was the custom at ancient courts to appoint an official to record the important events of each reign, so that they might be handed down to following generations. The records of Israel and Judah were not left to posterity, but it is evident that they were placed in the hands of the compiler of the Book of Kings, for he frequently alludes to them. He refers to them as dealing with wars, building treaties and conspiracies. He seems to have had, besides the court records, the records of the Temple of Jerusalem, which were derived from the writings of the priests. Many of these writings are concerned with the various prophets. The history of Israel is a succession of incidents provoked by the prophets in the name of their God Jehovah.

When Solomon came to the throne there was considerable trouble among foreign nations subject to Israel. These nations believed that the young king could not govern David’s army, but no attempt was made by them to shake off the Hebrew yoke. Solomon was more concerned with the “death” of four political offenders—Adonijah; his brother Joab; the king’s cousin Abiathar, the priest; and Shimei, the kinsman of Saul who had cursed David—than with the opposition of subject nations. He resolved upon the “death” of these four, and waited only for an opportunity. He did not have to wait long, for when an opportunity did not offer he created one. Having despatched them and having overcome certain domestic jealousies, he employed himself with governing the country.

He disregarded the army of David and the conquests it might obtain for him, and fixed his mind on finance and commerce. He desired magnificence and display and the realization of his own voluptuous dream rather than the establishment of a dynasty. The land of Israel was rich in grain, honey, oil (olive), wine, wool, hides and timber; and the Phoenicians afforded markets, and repaid the Israelites with manufactured goods and ornaments and precious metals.

He established maritime traffic by the Red Sea and land traffic across the Syrian Desert. The ports of Edom on the Red Sea had never been considered during his father’s reign. He used them to build a fleet of ships to transport his merchandise. These ships sailed to Sheba and to the celebrated Ophir in the province of Oman in Arabia; which province did not, as history relates, produce gold, ivory and peacocks. It is evident that the ivory and peacocks were not produced in Ophir. They may have come hither from India or the east coast of Africa. The wealth derived from this merchandise depended upon the ability to sell it again—such as Solomon possessed. The sale of spices and incense (the use of which for religious purposes was enormous) yielded much of the king’s revenue.

The traffic across the desert could not have been secured without conquests, and as Solomon possessed himself of the city of Tipshah and fortified Tadmor (Palmyra), David’s army must have been called into action. The merchandise which came to Solomon across the desert was carried on the backs of camels, which proved that, however precious it was, it could not have been heavy.

Holders of this symbol were merchants, builders and camel drivers when they lived in Israel.

As the Hebrews were always unskilled in manual labour (holders of this symbol still have but little manual dexterity), they sought the help of the Tyrians in the construction of their roads and buildings.

Solomon opened commerce with Egypt and paid for the Egyptian merchandise with the wine and oil of Palestine. The olive tree has always grown and flourished in any part of Jerusalem. Even to-day, when there seems to be no soil to hold it and it has to lean over from the rocks, it yields oil abundantly. As sugar was unknown, honey was an article of first importance, and it was exported in vast quantities. Solomon’s buildings, deserving of notice, were his temple, his palace and the palace of the queen, his law-court, and his house of Lebanon cedar. The splendour of the Temple must not be taken too literally, as Oriental writers must embellish and applaud the monuments of kings. The cedar from the Lebanon mountains was brought by bondsmen liable to perform public work for the king. These slaves were practically manacled, as they were among the Romans, and one driver could overlook a gang of fifty. All strangers who were brought to Israel by conquest or capture were liable to such service. Private families kept domestic slaves, and slaves to work on the land.

Solomon’s queen was the daughter of the king of Egypt, and for her he built a palace as extensive as his own. It cannot be said that she shared the affections of his heart with his seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines, for she seems to have concerned herself but little with her husband’s affairs. Solomon’s wisdom must be discounted when we consider how his wives and concubines ordered him about. It was no wonder that the prophets and priests of Jehovah were horrified when the king caused to be erected on the hills before Jerusalem altars and images for the heathen worship of Chemosh and Moloch and idols of Ammon, so that his women might celebrate the rites of their gods. Not only did he permit his women such liberty, but he celebrated with them the rites of the Sidonian goddess Astarte.

When the expenses of the court had risen to dizzy heights the sources of revenue began to be cut down. The garrisons could not be kept up in the fortresses of Damascus, and Rezou made himself master of Damascus and its district. His power closed Solomon’s trade across the desert. The splendid Hebrew empire began to totter. Pomp and voluptuousness had loosened its foundations. The people realized that Solomon’s glory was upheld by their poverty. Following the tradition of their race, they had no desire to fight, so they waited with impatience for a new ruler. Fortunately “death” overtook Solomon before open disgrace. His Hebrew existence ended with his prosperity. His wisdom could not even infuse vitality into the national finances, which he put before everything. Results of his government prove him to have been lamentably deficient. His scholastic wisdom, however, deserves praise, for no common brain could have produced the Proverbs. No doubt it was the fine writing which appears in the Proverbs which allowed him intellectually to triumph over the people.

Holders of this symbol saw his moment of brilliancy replaced by kingdoms which were constantly at war with one another. Each dissenting tribe had its favourite leader. When Ahab, thinking that two religions were better than one, established the worship of Baal, the people were too weary to protect their Jehovah. Elijah the prophet reproached them with being lame in both feet; but they took no part in the quarrels which continued for half a century.

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The symbol for this week, the 18th to the 24th of December, is the Lighted Taper. People of this symbol have a flair for any number of things. They seldom know the extent of their inner power. Everything with them is apt to be an experiment. They can never rest until they examine the works to see what makes the wheels go round. They are the children who take their toys to pieces to see how they are made. Nothing is too dangerous or too strange for them. They are extremely magnetic and some of them are natural healers. In love they are passionate and ardent, but marriage might be an experiment. They are really quite selfish, but they are so unconscious of it and so charming that no one seems to mind. Nothing subordinate ever suits them; and they usually achieve the end they have in view.

This symbol relates to Damascus when the Assyrians appeared in Syria as the allies of Ahaz—called Yahukhazi by the Assyrians. The result of this appearance was the siege of Damascus and the conquest of certain kingdoms east of Jordan.

The fall of Damascus in 732 B.C. made Syria a province of Nineveh. The fortunes of the Damascenes (holders of this symbol) were from this date combined with those of Assyria. Damascus not only surrendered to the arms of Assyria, but the Damascenes had to see their treasures carried to Nineveh (the Assyrian capital).

Having reduced the west to submission, the Assyrian king after a severe war was proclaimed king of Babylon. His reign was abruptly checked by a military commander called Shalmaneser IV, who seized the throne.

After the murder of this ambitious ruler, another usurping general called Sargon was crowned king. Sargon continued the war in Syria, capturing other cities. At this time the intrigues of Merodach-baladan III were causing trouble in Chaldea, but the disturbed state of the other provinces kept Sargon from the accomplishment of his dream—the conquest of Babylon. In order to delay his desire, Merodach-baladan raised a revolt in Syria in which Phoenicia, Moab, Edom, supported by the Egyptians, took part. Holders of this symbol joined in the revolt. Failure was their portion, however, for Sargon quelled the revolt, invaded Babylon and forced Merodach-baladan to seek refuge in flight.

People of this symbol knew no security until one of the Assyrian kings subjugated the kingdom of Egypt to the Assyrians and placed most of the ancient world under one rule for twenty years. This gave them the opportunity to pursue their peaceful occupations and to study Assyrian art and literature. The Damascenes had reached a high standard in metal-work and in the cultivation of grains. The Assyrians taught them to work with alabaster.

The Assyrians had copied their library from ancient originals in the temple libraries of Chaldea. Their script was impressed by a stylus on wet clay. The tablets consisted of class-books for students and writings on the Chaldean religion. One tablet discovered by excavators contained a legend of the Deluge resembling the Hebrew account of the Flood. The Chaldean flood was a punishment for sin, and an ark was built by one called Utu-napisti, who took on the vessel his family and the beasts of the field. The ark finally came to rest on Mount Nizir, where a sacrifice was made to the gods, who caused a rainbow to appear. The rainbow was referred to as “the necklace of Istar.”

The religion of Assyria, which was also the religion of Damascus, was of Babylonian origin—with one exception. In Babylonia the priest took precedence of the king, but in Assyria the king himself was the high priest. The warrior god Asiru was the chief god of Assyria. The goddess Istar was worshipped in Assyria as the goddess of war, whereas in Babylonia she was the goddess of love.

If holders of this symbol should visit Damascus to-day they would find the city much the same as it was when they previously lived there. Succeeding rulers and governments have made minor changes, but the narrow streets are as dusty in summer and as muddy in winter as ever they were. In the silversmith’s bazaar the haggling still goes on, punctuated with the same spitting and almost the same cursing, as it did when the River Abana flowed through the fashionable quarters, furnishing baths for wealthy inhabitants, who indolently accepted the services of the slaves. Men still sit in front of their shops on the street called Straight, offering their gaily coloured silks and their scarlet saddles. The spices offered are still of the same sort—but the famous Damascus blade is now an imitation.

Backgrounding the little shops are the walls with shabby entrances leading to the splendid houses, as in old Damascus. Let us enter one. Its appearance may recall the one you knew in that far-off yesterday. The rooms enter into the same square courtyard of marble pavements tessellated with coloured stone.

The slow drip of the fountain water still mingles with the cooing of the doves. Let us kick off our shoes at the door (remember it is Mohammedan to-day) and go into one of the rooms. There are the soft-pile carpets and the cushions, just as they used to be. There are the metal ornaments and the old swords with their ivory handles. The hand of time has rested so lightly on your ancient city that, could some genie blot out the intervening incarnations, you would know it at once.

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The symbol for the last week of the year, from the 25th of December to the 31st, is the Three Frogs. The Babylonians once wore this symbol. It was usually made of gold, as gold was believed by them to be the metal of the sun. It denotes people of powerful personality, possessing energy, passion and creative ability. Some of these people use cynicism to protect their inner feelings, which are extremely sensitive. They often damage their best interests by their reticence. Often their road seems difficult, for life is testing them. They think too much of the future and too little of the present. They are ambitious and determined and their deductive power is good. Detectives usually have this symbol well placed in their charts.

This symbol relates also to Spain in the days of the Inquisition.

The Inquisition actually began with the establishment of Christianity in the Roman Empire. The Emperors Theodosius and Justinian appointed officials called inquisitors to track down dissenters and to prosecute them before the civil tribunals. But no special machinery was devised for dealing with dissenters until the eleventh and twelfth centuries, when they were reputed to be dangerous to the state. A special tribunal instituted in 1248 made the Inquisition general, and it was introduced into Spain, Italy, Germany and certain provinces of France. It was then regarded as a strictly papal tribunal.

It was in Spain that it reached its grisly height. In the reigns of Ferdinand and Isabella the alleged discovery of a plot among the Jews to overthrow the government caused the crown to assume the right of appointing the inquisitors. The Roman See through Pope Sixtus IV protested against it, but the Spanish crown maintained its right to appoint inquisitors; and the tribunal commenced its ghastly work under the direction of Thomas de Torquemada.

The Spanish Jews claimed to be of nobler rank than Jews of other countries. They were a peaceful people owning land and engaged in trade. Many of them were prosperous and wealthy. They had been forced into trade in the days when nothing else was open to them—when it was considered debasing to engage in commerce. They had made the most of their only opportunity.

When the crown undertook the Inquisition many of them, to avoid prosecution, became nominally Christian. Even into the Church they penetrated, and the robe of the friar covered hundreds whose conversion was but a pretence. Their attitude could scarcely be called deceitful, for self-preservation is the first law of humanity. It was not surprising that the people who were forced to bow to the Virgin in public should in secret consult the tables of their own law. The most dreadful engine of superstition ever devised was upon them, to torture them and condemn them to the flames.

Torture chambers in which no member of the body was overlooked contrived to wring confessions from them. In the vaults under the earth stood iron figures which flew apart disclosing blood-stained spikes, which were to crush the unfortunate victim in their iron embrace. Below waited the yawning pit where the sullen waters would close over the mangled body. In deep caverns hollowed out of the earth stone doors closed on defenceless Jews who starved to death like rats in a trap. Men and women disappeared by hundreds annihilated by the flames or by torture. Long processions of victims wound through the streets on their way to the burning place. Children, soon to starve, saw their fathers and mothers filing to their doom, their faces pale, an insane expression in their eyes, their hands tearing at their flesh—on and on they went, a grim sacrifice to the mockery of justice. Dropping from terror, they said anything. The words had no meaning, but fierce-browed men wrote them down to use against people whose reason had deserted them. Those who repented at the last moment had the privilege of being strangled before being thrown on the fire, which the king himself, in the names of holiness and justice, had set alight.

When the flames and the torture had done their work a decree was passed ordering the remaining Jews to depart from Spain. Then the files of outcasts started to march onward to another doom. They took with them the poor remnant of their possessions—which the inquisitors had left them. They visited the graves of their ancestors to bid them farewell, to apologize for having to leave their beloved bones in a hostile land. Not to sink down on the roadside they repeated phrases from their holy scrolls. Money owed to them had been confiscated when they were turned out. Those who made their wearisome way to North Africa were sold into slavery or ripped open by degraded tribes for the jewels they believed the persecuted creatures had swallowed.

Two hundred years later the spirit of Spain was unchanged. In the square in Madrid the reigning family sat in the royal box. Court officials were present dressed in gay uniforms. Again the procession passed to the burning place. This time the victims wore coarse cloth covered with representations of demons, serpents and crosses. Placards depending from their necks announced their offence—the offence of being Jews.

This procession is still tramping across the world. Again it will pass through Spain and again it will take out of that country the spirit of enterprise and industry.

All Christian people can reproach themselves with inhumanity to the Jews. The lordly and the humble, the gracious and the saintly have denounced the Jew. Even St. Louis of France was not above the persecution of the Jews.

One nation will halt this weary procession of persecuted people. It will offer them a home where they shall find their new Moses and their promised land.

Many holders of this symbol have known suffering in the past. It has taught them tolerance, perhaps indifference, or it has insisted upon the fulfilment of the ancient Hebrew law “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”