of historic and astronomical fables, or of simple allegories.[1] The chef-d'œuvre of the sacerdotal art was uniting these three ways, and enclosing under the appearance of a clear and simple style, the vulgar, figurative, and symbolic meaning. Pythagoras has sought this kind of perfection in his precepts and often he has succeeded; but the one of all the theosophists instructed in the sanctuaries of Thebes or of Memphis, who has pushed farthest, this marvellous art, is beyond doubt Moses. The first part of his Sepher, vulgarly called Genesis, and that should be called by its original name of Bereshith, is in this style, the most admirable work, the most astounding feat of strength that is possible for a man to conceive and execute. This book, which contains all the science of the ancient Egyptians, is still to be translated and will only be translated when one will put oneself in a condition to understand the language in which it has primitively been composed.
Midst the Immortals, thou shalt be thyself a God.
Here, said Hierocles, in terminating his commentaries, is the blissful end of all efforts: here, according to Plato, is the hope which enkindles, which sustains the ardour of him who fights in the career of virtue: here, the inestimable prize which awaits him.[2] It was the great object of the mysteries, and so to speak, the great work of initiation.[3] The initiate, said Sophocles, is not only happy during his life, but even after his death he can promise himself an eternal felicity.[4] His soul purified by virtue, said Pindar, unfolds in those blessed regions where reigns an eternal spring-*time.ə It goes on, said Socrates, attracted by the celestial
