star, between the plates, must be large enough to receive the pedestal of a cup-shaped copper chafing-dish, containing dessicated fragments of laurel wood and alder. By the side of the chafing-dish must be placed a censer full of incense. The skin of a white and spotless ram must be stretched beneath the alter, and on it must be emblazoned another pentagram drawn with parallel lines of azure blue, golden yellow, emerald green, and purple red.

"A copper tripod must be erected in the middle of the Oratory; it must be perfectly triangular in form, it must be surmounted by another and similar chafing-dish, which must likewise contain a quantity of dried olive wood.

"A high candelabrum of copper must be placed by the wall on the southern side, and must contain a single taper of purest white wax, which must alone illuminate the mystery of the evocation.

"The white colour of the altar, of the ram's skin, and of the veil, is consecrated to Gabriel, the planetary archangel of the moon, and the Genius of mysteries; the green of the copper and the tapestries is dedicated to the Genius of Venus.

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The altar and tripod must both be encompassed by a magnetized iron chain, and by three garlands composed of the foliage and blossoms of the myrtle, the olive, and the rose. Finally, facing the portrait, and on the eastern side, there must be a canopy, also draped with emerald silk, and supported by two triangular columns of olive wood, plated with purest copper. On the North and South sides, between each of these columns and the wall, the tapestry must fall in long folds to the ground, forming a kind of tabernacle ; which must be open on the eastern side. At the foot of each column there must be a sphinx of white marble, with a cavity in the top of the head to receive spices for burning. It is beneath this canopy that the apparitions will manifest, and it should be remembered that the Magus must turn to the east for prayer, and to the west for evocation.

"Before entering this little sanctuary, devoted to the religion of remembrance, the operator must be clothed in a vestment of azure, fastened by clasps of copper, enriched with a single emerald. He must wear upon his head a tiara surrounded by a floriated circle of twelve emeralds, and a crown of violets. On his breast must be the talisman of Venus depending from a ribbon of azure silk. On the annular finger of his left hand must be a copper ring containing a turquoise. His feet must be covered with shoes of azure silk, and he must be provided with a fan of swan's feathers to dissipate, if needful, the smoke of the perfumes.

"The Oratory and all its objects must be consecrated on a Friday, during the hours which are set apart to the Genius of Venus. This consecration is performed by burning violets and roses in a fire of olive wood. A shaft must be provided in the Oratory for the passage of the smoke, but care must be taken to prevent the admission of light through this channel.

"When these preparations are finished, the operator must impose on himself a retreat of one-and-twenty days, beginning on the anniversary of the death of the beloved being. During this period he must refrain from conferring on any one the least of those marks of affection which he was accustomed to bestow on the departed; he must be absolutely chaste, alike in deed and thought; he must take daily but one repast, consisting of bread, wine, roots, and fruits. These three conditions are indispensable to success in evocation, and their accomplishment requires complete isolation.

"Every day, shortly before mid-night, the Magus must assume his consecrated dress. On the stroke of the mystic hour, he must enter the Oratory, bearing a lighted candle in his right hand, and in the other an hour-glass. The

Necromancy

candle must be fixed in the candelabra, and the hour-glass on the altar to register the flight of time. The operator must then proceed to replenish the garland and the floral crown. Then he shall unveil the portrait, and erect it immovable in front of the altar, being thus with his face to the East, he shall softly go over in his mind the cherished recollections he possesses of the beloved and departed being.

"When the upper reservoir of the hour-glass is emply the time of contemplation will be over. By the flame of the taper the operator must then kindle the laurel wood and alder in the chafing-dish which stands on the altar; then, taking a pinch of incense from the censer, let him cast it thrice upon the fire, repeating the following words :Glory be to the Father of life universal in the splendour of the infinite altitude, and peace in the twilight of the immeasurable depths to all Spirits of good will Ï'

Then he shall cover the portrait, and taking up his candle in his hand, shall depart from the Oratory, walking backward at a slow pace as far as the threshold. The same ceremony must be fulfilled at the same hour during every day of the retreat, and at each visit the crown which is above the portrait, and the garlands of the altar and tripod must be carefully renewed. The withered leaves and flowers must be burnt each evening in a room adjoining the Oratory.

"When the twenty-first day has arrived, the Magus must do his best to have no communication with any one, but if this be impossible, he must not be the first to speak, and he must postpone all business till the morrow. On the stroke of noon, he must arrange a small circular table in the Oratory, and cover it with a new napkin of unblemished whiteness. It must be garnished with two copper chalices, an entire loaf, and a crystal flagon of the purest wine. The bread must be broken and not cut, and the wine emptied in equal portions into the two cups. Half of this mystic communion, which must be his sole nourishment on this supreme day, shall be offered by the operator to the dead, and by the light of the one taper he must eat his own share, standing before the veiled portrait. Then he shall retire as before, walking backward as far as the threshold, and leaving the ghost's share of the bread and wine upon the table.

"When the solemn hour of the evening has at length arrived the Magus shall carry into the Oratory some welldried cypress wood, which he shall set alight on the altar and the tripod. Three pinches of incense shall be cast on the altar flame in honour of the Supreme Potency which manifests itself by Ever Active Intelligence and by Absolute Wisdom. When the wood of the two chafing-dishes has been reduced to embers, he must renew the triple offering of incense on the altar, and must cast some seven times on the fire in the tripod; at each evaporation of the consecrated perfume he must repeat the previous doxology, and then turning to the East, he must call upon God by the prayer of that religion which was professed by the person whom he desires to evoke.

"When the prayers are over he must reverse his position and with his face to the West, must enkindle the chafingdishes on the head of each sphinx, and when the cypress is fully ablaze he must heap over it well-dried violets and roses. Then let him extinguish the candle which illuminates the Oratory, and falling on his knees before the canopy, between the two columns, let him mentally address the beloved person with a plenitude of faith and affection. Let him solemnly entreat it to appear and renew this interior adjuration seven times, under the auspices of the seven providential Genii, endeavouring during the whole of the time to exalt his soul above the natural weakness of humanity.

"Some moments after the third appeal, he must extend his arms in the form of a cross, and lifting up his eyes, he will behold the beloved being, in a recognisable manner, in front of him. That is to say, he will perceive that ethereal substance separated from the perishable terrestrial body, the fluidic envelope of the soul, which Kabalistic initiates have termed the Perispirit. This substance preserves the human form but is emancipated from human infirmities, and is energised by the special characteristics whereby the imperishable individuality of our essence is manifested. Evoked and Evoker can then inter-communicate intelligibly by a mutual and mysterious thought-transmission.

"The departed soul will give counsel to the operator; it will occasionally reveal secrets which may be beneficial to those whom it loved on earth, but it will answer no question which has reference to the desires of the flesh; it will discover no buried treasures, nor will it unveil the secrets of a third person; it is silent on the mysteries of the superior existence to which it has now attained. In certain cases, it will, however, declare itself either happy or in punishment. If it be the latter, it will ask for the prayer of the Magus, or for some religious observance, which we must unfailingly fulfil. Lastly, it will indicate the time when the evocation may be renewed.

"When it has disappeared, the operator must turn to the East, rekindle the fire on the altar, and make a final offering of incense. Then he must detach the crown and the garlands, take up his candle, and retire with his face to the West till he is out of the Oratory. His last duty is to burn the final remains of the flowers and leaves. Their ashes, united to those which have been collected during the time of retreat, must be mixed with myrtle seed, and secretly buried in a field at a depth which will secure it from disturbance of the ploughshare."

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The last two examples are, of course, those of "white' necromancy. The procedure followed by savage tribes is of course totally different. Among certain Australian tribes the necromants are called Birraark, It is said that a Birraark was supposed to be initiated by the "mrarts (ghosts) when they met him wandering in the bush. It was from the ghosts that he obtained replies to questions concerning events passing at a distance, or yet to happen, which might be of interest or moment to his tribe. An account of a spiritual séance in the bush is given in“ Kamilaroi and Kurnai" (p. 251): "The fires were let down; the Birraark uttered the cry Coo-ee' at intervals. At length a distant reply was heard, and shortly afterwards the sound as of persons jumping on the ground in succession. A voice was then heard in the gloom asking in a strange intonation What is wanted? At the termination of the séance, the spirit voice said, 'We are going.' Finally, the Birraark was found in the top of an almost inaccessible tree, apparently asleep." (See also New Zealand.)

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In Japan, ghosts can be raised in various ways. mode is to put into an andon (a paper lantern in a frame), "a hundred rushlights, and repeat an incantation of a hundred lines. One of these rushlights is taken out at the end of each line, and the would-be ghost-seer then goes out in the dark with one light still burning, and blows it out, when the ghost ought to appear. Girls who have lost their lovers by death often try that sorcery."

The mode of procedure as practised in Scotland was thus. The haunted room was made ready. He, who was to do the daring deed, about nightfall entered the room, bearing with him a table, a chair, a candle, a compass, a crucifix if one could be got, and a Bible. With the com

Neoplatonism

pass he cast a circle on the middle of the floor, large enough to hold the chair and the table. He placed within the circle the chair and the table, and on the table he laid the Bible and the crucifix beside the lighted candle. If he had not a crucifix, then he drew the figure of a cross on the floor within the circle. When all this was done, he rested himself on the chair, opened the Bible, and waited for the coming of the spirit. Exactly at midnight the spirit came. Sometimes the door opened slowly, and there glided in noiselessly a lady sheeted in white, with a face of woe and told her story to the man on his asking her in the name of God what she wanted. What she wanted was done in the morning, and the spirit rested ever after. Sometimes the spirit rose from the floor, and sometimes came forth from the wall. One there was who burst into the room with a strong bound, danced wildly round the circle, and flourished a Inog whip round the man's head, but never dared to step within the circle. During a pause in his frantic dance he was asked, in God's name, what he wanted. He ceased his dance and told his wishes. His wishes were carried out, and the spirit was in peace."

In Wraxall's "Memoirs of the Courts of Berlin, Dresden, Warsaw, and Vienna" there is an amusing account of the raising of the ghost of the Chevalier de Saxe. Reports had been circulated that at his palace at Dresden there was secreted a large sum of money, and it was urged that if his spirit could be compelled to appear, interesting secrets might be extorted from him. Curiosity, combined with avarice, accordingly prompted his principal heir, Prince Charles, to try the experiment, and, on the appointed night, Schrepfer was the operator in raising the apparition. He commenced his proceedings by retiring into the corner of the gallery, where, kneeling down with many mysterious ceremonies, he invoked the spirit to appear. At length a loud clatter was heard at all the windows on the outside, resembling more the effect produced by a number of wet fingers drawn over the edge of glasses than anything else to which it could well be compared. This sound announced the arrival of the good spirits, and was shortly followed by a yell of a frightful and unusual nature, which indicated the presence of malignant spirits. Schrepfer continued his invocations, when" the door suddenly opened with violence, and something that resembled a black ball or globe rolled into the room. It was enveloped in smoke or cloud, in the midst of which appeared a human face, like the countenance of the Chevalier de Saxe, from which issued a loud and angry voice, exclaiming in German, Carl, was wollte du mit mich?"-" Charles, what would thou do with me?"' By reiterated exorcisms Schrepfer finally dismissed the apparition, and the terrified spectators dispersed fully convinced of his magical powers.

Neoplatonism: A mystical philosophic system initiated by Plotinus of Alexandria A.D. 233, which combined the philosophy of ancient Greece with more modern spiritual cravings. Although to some extent founded on the teaching of Plato, it was undoubtedly sophisticated by a deep mysticism, which in all probability emanated from the traditions of the land in which it originated. To a great extent it coloured the thought of mediæval mysticism and magic. Plotinus, its founder, commenced the study of philosophy in Alexandria at the age of 28. He early experienced an earnest desire to reach the truth concerning existence, and to that end made a deep study of the dialogues of Plato and the metaphysics of Aristotle. He practised the most severe austerities, and attempted to live what he called the "angelic" life, or the life of the disembodied in the body. He was greatly drawn to Apollonius of Tyana by reading his Life by Philostratus, and gave credence to many of the marvels recorded therein. The union of philosopher and priest in the character of

Apollonius fired the imagination of Plotinus, and in his Pythagorean teachings the young student discovered the elements of both Orientalism and Platonism,-for both Pythagoras and Plato strove to escape the sensuous, and to realise in contemplative abstraction that tranquility superior to desire and passion which made men approach the gods; but in the hands of the later Pythagoreans and Platonists, the principles of the Hellenic masters degenerated into a species of theurgic freemasonry. Many of the Pythagoreans had joined the various Orphic associations, and indeed had sunk to be mere itinerant vendors of charms.

It is probable that at Alexandria Plotinus heard from Orientals the principles of eastern theosophy, which he did not find in Plato. But everywhere he found a growing indifference to religion as known to the more ancient Greeks and Egyptians. By this time, the Pantheons of Greece, Rome and Egypt, had become fused in the worship of Serapis, and this fusion had been forwarded by the works of Plutarch, Apuleius, and Lucian. The position of philosophy at this time was by no means a strong one. In fact speculation had given place to ethical teaching, and philosophy was regarded more as a branch of literature, or an elegant recreation. Plotinus persuaded himself that philosophy and religion should be one; that speculation should be a search after God. It was at this time that he first heard of Ammonius Saccas, who shortly before had been a porter in the streets of Alexandria, and who lectured upon the possibilities of reconciling Plato and Aristotle. "Scepticism," said Ammonius, "was death." He recommended men to travel back across the past, and out of the whole bygone world of thought to construct a system greater than any of its parts. This teaching formed an epoch in the life of Plotinus, who was convinced that Platonism, exalted into a species of illuminism and drawing to itself like a magnet all the scattered truth of the bygone ages, could alone preserve mankind from scepticism. He occupied himself only with the most abstract questions concerning knowledge and being. Truth," according to him, "is not the agreement of our comprehension of an external object with the object itself, but rather the agreement of the mind with itself. For the philosopher the objects we contemplate, and that which comtemplates are identical: both are thought." All truth is then easy. Reduce the soul to its most perfect simplicity, and we find it is capable of exploration into the infinite; indeed it becomes one with the infinite. This is the condition of ecstasy, and to accomplish it a stoical austerity and asceticism was necessary. The Neoplatonists were thus ascetics and enthusiasts. Plato was neither. According to Plotinus, the mystic contemplates the divine perfection in himself; all worldly things and logical distinctions vanish during the period of ecstasy. This, of course, is purely Oriental and not Platonic at all. Plotinus regards the individual existence as phenomenal and transitory, and subordinates reason to ecstasy where the Absolute is in question. It is only at the end of his chain of reasoning that he introduces the supernatural. He is first a rationalist, afterwards a mystic, and only a mystic when he finds that he cannot employ the machinery of reason. The letter of Plotinus, written about 260 A.D. well embodies his ideas on these heads, and is as follows:

Neoplatonism

Tidings have reached us that Valerian has been defeated and is now in the hands of Sapor. The threats of Franks and Allemanni, of Goths and Persians, are alike terrible by turns to our degenerate Roine. In days like these, crowded with incessant calamities, the inducements to a life of contemplation are more than ever strong. Even my quiet existence seems now to grow somewhat sensible of the advance of years. Age alone I am unable to debar from my retirement. I am weary already of this prison-house, the body, and calmly await the day when the divine nature within me shall be set free from matter.

"The Egyptian priests used to tell me that a single touch with the wing of their holy bird could charm the crocodile into torpor; it is not thus speedily, my dear friend, that the pinions of your soul will have power to still the untamed body. The creature will yield only to watchful, strenuous constancy of habit. Purify your soul from all undue hope and fear about earthly things, mortify the body, deny self,-affections as well as appetites, and the inner eye will begin to exercise its clear and solemn vision.

"You ask me to tell you how we know, and what is our criterion of certainty. To write is always irksome to me. But for the continual solicitations of Porphyry, I should not have left a line to survive me. For your own sake, and for your father's, my reluctance shall be overcome.

"External objects present us only with appearances. Concerning them, therefore, we may be said to possess opinion rather than knowledge. The distinctions in the actual world of appearance are of import only to ordinary and practical men. Our question lies within the ideal reality which exists behind appearance. How does the mind perceive these ideas? Are they without us, and is the reason, like sensation, occupied with objects external to itself? What certainty could we then have, what assurance that our perception was infallible? The object perceived would be a something different from the mind perceiving it. We should have then an image instead of reality. It would be monstrous to believe for a moment that the mind was unable to perceive ideal truth exactly as it is, and that we had not certainty and real knowledge concerning the world of intelligence. It follows, therefore, that this region of truth is not to be investigated as a thing external to us, and so only imperfectly known. It is within us. Here the objects we contemplate and that which contemplates are identical,-both are thought. The subject cannot surely know an object different from itself. The world of ideas lies within our intelligence. therefore, is not the agreement of our apprehension of an external object with the object itself. It is the agreement of the mind with itself. Consciousness, therefore, is the sole basis of certainty. The mind is its own witness. Reason sees in itself that which is above itself as its source; and again, that which is below itself as still itself once more. Knowledge has three degrees - Opinion, Science, Illumination. The means or instrument of the first is sense; of the second, dialectic; of the third intuition. To the last I subordinate reason. It is absolute knowledge founded on the identity of the mind knowing with the object known.

Truth,

"There is a raying out of all orders of existence, an external emanation from the ineffable One (prudos). There is again a returning impulse, drawing all upwards and inwards towards the centre from whence all came (epistrophe). Love, as Plato in the Banquet beautifully says, is the child of Poverty and Plenty. In the amorous quest of the soul after the Good, lies the painful sense of fall and deprivation. But that Love is blessing, is salvation, is our guardian genius; without it the centrifugal law would overpower us, and sweep our souls out far from