I have now arrived at what I should call the great
epoch of Cosmo-politism, the scheme communicated
to Baron Knigge by the Marchese di Constanza. This
obliges me to mention a remarkable Lodge of the
Eclectic Masonry, erected at Munich in Bavaria in
1775, under the worshipful Master, Professor Baader.
It was called The Lodge Theodore of Good Counsel. It
had its constitutional patent from the Royal York at
Berlin, but had formed a particular system of its own,
by instructions from the Loge des Chevaliers Bienfaisants
at Lyons, with which it kept up a correspondence.
This respect to the Lodge at Lyons had arisen from
the preponderance acquired in general by the French
party in the convention at Willemsbad. The deputies
of the Rosaic Lodges, as well as the remains of
the Templars, and Stricten Observanz, all looking up
to this as the mother Lodge of what they called the
Grand Orient de la France, consisting in (in 1782) of
266 improved Lodges united under the D. de Chartres.
Accordingly the Lodge at Lyons sent Mr. Wilermooz
as deputy to this convention at Willemsbad.
Refining gradually on the simple British Masonry, the
Lodge had formed a system of practical morality,
which it asserted to be the aim of genuine Masonry,
saying, that a true mason, and a man of upright heart
and active virtue, are synonimous characters, and that
the great aim of Free Masonry is to promote the happiness
of mankind by every mean in our power. In
pursuance of these principles, the Lodge Theodore
professedly occupied itself with œconomical, statistical,
and political matters, and not only published
from time to time discourses on such subjects by the
Brother Orator, but the Members considered themselves
as in duty bound to propagate and inculcate the
same doctrines out of doors.
Of the zealous members of the Lodge Theodore
the most conspicuous was Dr. Adam Weishaupt, Professor
of Canon Law in the University of Ingolstadt.
This person had been educated among the Jesuits;
but the abolition of their order made him change his
views, and from being their pupil, he became their
most bitter enemy. He had acquired a high reputation
in his profession, and was attended not only by
those intended for the practice in the law-courts, but
also by young gentlemen at large in their course of general
education; and he brought numbers from
the neighbouring states to this university, and gave a
ton to the studies of the place. He embraced with
great keenness this opportunity of spreading the favorite
doctrines of the Lodge, and his auditory became
the seminary of Cosmo-politism. The engaging pictures
of the possible felicity of a society where every
office is held by a man of talents and virtue, and where
every talent is set in a place fitted for its exertion, forcibly
catches the generous and unsuspecting minds of
youth, and in a Roman Catholic state, far advanced
in the habits of gross superstition (a character given to
Bavaria by its neighbours) and abounding in monks
and idle dignitaries, the opportunities must be frequent
for observing the inconsiderate dominion of the clergy,
and the abject and indolent submission of the laity.
Accordingly Professor Weishaupt says, in his Apology
for Illuminatism, that Deism, Infidelity, and
Atheism are more prevalent in Bavaria than in any
country he was acquainted with. Discourses, therefore,
in which the absurdity and horrors of superstition
and spiritual tyranny were strongly painted, could
not fail of making a deep impression. And during
this state of the minds of the auditory the transition to
general infidelity and irreligion is so easy, and so inviting
to sanguine youth, prompted perhaps by a latent
wish that the restraints which religion imposes on the
expectants of a future state might be found, on enquiry,
to be nothing but groundless terrors, that I imagine it
requires the most anxious care of the public teacher
to keep the minds of his audience impressed with the
reality and importance of the great truths of religion,
while he frees them from the shackles of blind and absurd
superstition. I fear that this celebrated instructor
had none of this anxiety, but was satisfied with his
great success in the last part of this task, the emancipation
of his young hearers from the terrors of superstition.
I suppose also that this was the more agreeable to him,
as it procured him the triumph over the Jesuits, with
whom he had long struggled for the direction of the
university.
This was in 1777. Weishaupt had long been
scheming the establishment of an Association or Order,
which, in time, should govern the world. In his first
fervour and high expectations, he hinted to several
Ex-Jesuits the probability of their recovering, under
a new name, the influence which they formerly possessed,
and of being again of great service to society,
by directing the education of youth of distinction, now
emancipated from all civil and religious prejudices.
He prevailed on some to join him, but they all retracted
but two. After this disappointment Weishaupt
became the implacable enemy of the Jesuits; and his
sanguine temper made him frequently lay himself open
to their piercing eye, and drew on him their keenest
resentment, and at last made him the victim of their
enmity.
The Lodge Theodore was the place where the
above-mentioned doctrines were most zealously propagated.
But Weishaupt's emissaries had already procured
the adherence of many other Lodges; and the
Eclectic Masonry had been brought into vogue chiefly
by their exertions at the Willemsbad convention. The
Lodge Theodore was perhaps less guarded in its proceedings,
for it became remarkable for the very bold
sentiments in politics and religion which were frequently
uttered in their harangues; and its members
were noted for their zeal in making proselytes. Many
bitter pasquinades, satires, and other offensive pamphlets
were in secret circulation, and even larger works
of very dangerous tendency, and several of them were
traced to that Lodge. The Elector often expressed
his disapprobation of such proceedings, and sent them
kind messages, desiring them to be careful not to disturb
the peace of the country, and particularly to recollect
the solemn declaration made to every entrant
into the Fraternity of Free Masons, "That no subject
of religion or politics shall ever be touched on in
the Lodge;" a declaration which alone could have
procured his permission of any secret assembly whatever,
and on the sincerity and honour of which he had
reckoned when he gave his sanction to their establishment.
But repeated accounts of the same kind increased
the alarms, and the Elector ordered a judicial
enquiry into the proceedings of the Lodge Theodore.
It was then discovered that this and several associated
Lodges were the nursery or preparation school for another
Order of Masons, who called themselves the
Illuminated, and that the express aim of this Order
was to abolish Christianity, and overturn all civil government.
But the result of the enquiry was very imperfect
and unsatisfactory. No illuminati were to be
found. They were unknown in the Lodge. Some
of the members occasionally heard of certain candidates
for illumination called Minervals, who were
sometimes seen among them. But whether these had
been admitted, or who received them, was known
only to themselves. Some of these were examined in
private by the Elector himself. They said that they
were bound by honour to secrecy: But they assured
the Elector, on their honour, that the aim of the Order
was in the highest degree praise-worthy, and useful
both to church and state. But this could not allay
the anxiety of the profane public; and it was repeatedly
stated to the Elector, that members of the Lodge
Theodore had unguardedly spoken of this Order as
one that in time must rule the world. He therefore
issued an order forbidding, during his pleasure, all secret
assemblies, and shutting up the Mason Lodges.
It was not meant to be rigorously enforced, but was
intended as a trial of the deference of these Associations
for civil authority. The Lodge Theodore distinguished
itself by pointed opposition, continuing its
meetings; and the members, out of doors, openly reprobated
the prohibition as an absurd and unjustifiable
tyranny.
In the beginning of 1783, four professors of the
Marianen Academy, founded by the widow of the late
Elector, viz. Utschneider, Cossandey, Renner, and
Grunberger, with two others, were summoned before
the Court of Enquiry, and questioned, on their allegiance,
respecting the Order of the Illuminati. They
acknowledged that they belonged to it, and when
more closely examined, they related several circumstances
of its constitution and principles. Their declarations
were immediately published, and were very
unfavourable. The Order was said to abjure Christianity,
and to refuse admission into the higher degrees
to all who adhered to any of the three confessions.
Sensual pleasures were restored to the rank they held
in the Epicurean philosophy. Self-murder was justified
on Stoical principles. In the Lodges death was
declared an eternal sleep; patriotism and loyalty were
called narrow-minded prejudices, and incompatible
with universal benevolence; continual declamations
were made on liberty and equality as the unalienable
rights of man. The baneful influence of accumulated
property was declared an insurmountable obstacle to
the happiness of any nation whose chief laws were
framed for its protection and increase. Nothing was
so frequently discoursed of as the propriety of employing,
for a good purpose, the means which the wicked
employed for evil purposes; and it was taught, that
the preponderancy of good in the ultimate result consecrated
every mean employed; and that wisdom and
virtue consisted in properly determining this balance.
This appeared big with danger, because it seemed
evident that nothing would be scrupled at, if it could
be made appear that the Order would derive advantage
from it, because the great object of the Order was held
as superior to every consideration. They concluded
by saying that the method of education made them all
spies on each other and on all around them. But all
this was denied by the Illuminati. Some of these tenets
were said to be absolutely false; and the rest were
said to be mistakes. The apostate professors had acknowledged
their ignorance of many things. Two of
them were only Minervals, another was an Illuminatus
of the lowest class, and the fourth was but one step
farther advanced. Pamphlets appeared on both sides,
with very little effect. The Elector called before him
one of the superiors, a young nobleman, who denied
those injurious charges, and said that they were ready
to lay before his Highness their whole archives and all
constitutional papers.
Notwithstanding all this, the government had received
such an impression of the dangerous tendency
of the Order, that the Elector issued another edict,
forbidding all hidden assemblies; and a third, expressly
abolishing the Order of Illuminati. It was followed
by a search after their papers. The Lodge Theodore
was immediately searched, but none were to be found.
They said now that they burnt them all, as of no use,
since that Order was at an end.
It was now discovered, that Weishaupt was the head
and founder of the Order. He was deprived of his
Professor's chair, and banished from the Bavarian
States; but with a pension of 800 florins, which he
refused. He went to Regensburgh, on the confines
of Switzerland. Two Italians, the Marquis Constanza
and Marquis Savioli, were also banished, with equal
pensions, (about L. 40,) which they accepted. One
Zwack, a counsellor, holding some law-office, was
also banished. Others were imprisoned for some time.
Weishaupt went afterwards into the service of the D.
of Saxe Gotha, a person of a romantic turn of mind,
and whom we shall again meet with. Zwack went
into the service of the Pr. de Salms, who soon after
had so great a hand in the disturbances in Holland.
By destroying the papers, all opportunity was lost
for authenticating the innocence and usefulness of the
Order. After much altercation and paper war, Weishaupt,
now safe in Regensburg, published an account
of the Order, namely, the account which was given
to every Novice in a discourse read at his reception.
To this were added the statutes and the rules of proceeding,
as far as the degree of Illuminatus Minor, included.
This account he affirmed to be conformable
to the real practice of the Order. But this publication
did by no means satisfy the public mind. It differed
exceedingly from the accounts given by the four professors.
It made no mention of the higher degrees,
which had been most blamed by them. Besides, it
was alleged, that it was all a fiction, written in order
to lull the suspicions which had been raised (and this
was found to be the case, except in respect of the very
lowest degree). The real constitution was brought to
light by degrees, and shall be laid before the reader,
in the order in which it was gradually discovered, that
we may the better judge of things not fully known by
the conduct of the leaders during the detection. The
first account given by Weishaupt is correct, as far as I
shall make use of it, and shows clearly the methods
that were taken to recommend the Order to strangers.
The Order of Illuminati appears as an accessory
to Free Masonry. It is in the Lodges of Free Masons
that the Minervals are found, and there they are prepared
for Illumination. They must have previously obtained
the three English degrees. The founder says more.
He says that his doctrines are the only true Free Masonry.
He was the chief promoter of the Eclectic System. This he
urged as the best method for getting information of all
the explanations which have been given of the Masonic
Mysteries. He was also a Strict Observanz, and an
adept Rosycrucian. The result of all his knowledge is
worthy of particular remark, and shall therefore be
given at large.
"I declare," says he, "and I challenge all mankind
to contradict my declaration, that no man can
give any account of the Order of Free Masonry, of
its origin, of its history, of its object, nor any explanation
of its mysteries and symbols, which does
not leave the mind in total uncertainty on all these
points. Every man is entitled, therefore, to give
any explanation of the symbols, and any system of
the doctrines, that he can render palatable. Hence
have sprung up that variety of systems which for
twenty years have divided the Order. The simple
tale of the English, and the fifty degrees of
the French, and the Knights of Baron Hunde, are
equally authentic, and have equally had the support
of intelligent and zealous Brethren. These systems
are in fact but one. They have all sprung from the
Blue Lodge of Three degrees; take these for their
standard, and found on these all the improvements
by which each system is afterwards suited to the particular
object which it keeps in view. There is no
man, nor system, in the world, which can show by
undoubted succession that it should stand at the head
of the Order. Our ignorance in this particular frets
me. Do but consider our short history of 120 years.—Who
will show me the Mother Lodge? Those
of London we have discovered to be self-erected in
1716. Ask for their archives. They tell you they
were burnt. They have nothing but the wretched
sophistications of the Englishman Anderson, and
the Frenchman Desaguilliers. Where is the Lodge
of York, which pretends to the priority, with their
King Bouden, and the archives that he brought from
the East? These too are all burnt. What is the
Chapter of Old Aberdeen, and its Holy Clericate?
Did we not find it unknown, and the Mason Lodges
there the most ignorant of all the ignorant, gaping
for instruction from our deputies? Did we not find
the same thing at London? and have not their
missionaries been among us, prying into our mysteries,
and eager to learn from us what is true Free
Masonry? It is in vain, therefore, to appeal to
judges; they are no where to be found; all claim
for themselves the sceptre of the Order; all indeed
are on an equal footing. They obtained followers,
not from their authenticity, but from their conduciveness
to the end which they proposed, and from
the importance of that end. It is by this scale that
we must measure the mad and wicked explanations
of the Rosycrucians, the Exorcists, and Cabalists.
These are rejected by all good Masons, because incompatible
with social happiness. Only such systems
as promote this are retained. But alas, they are all
sadly deficient, because they leave us under the dominion
of political and religious prejudices; and
they are as inefficient as the sleepy dose of an ordinary
sermon.
"But I have contrived an explanation which has
every advantage; is inviting to Christians of every
communion; gradually frees them from all religious
prejudices; cultivates the social virtues; and animates
them by a great, a feasible, and speedy prospect
of universal happiness, in a state of liberty and moral
equality, freed from the obstacles which subordination,
rank, and riches, continually throw in our
way. My explanation is accurate, and complete,
my means are effectual, and irresistible. Our secret
Association works in a way that nothing can withstand,
and man shall soon be free and happy.
"This is the great object held out by this Association,
and the means of attaining it is Illumination,
enlightening the understanding by the sun of reason,
which will dispel the clouds of superstition and of prejudice.
The proficients in this Order are therefore
justly named the Illuminated. And of all Illumination
which human reason can give, none is comparable
to the discovery of what we are, our nature, our
obligations, what happiness we are capable of, and
what are the means of attaining it. In comparison
with this, the most brilliant sciences are but amusements
for the idle and luxurious. To fit man by
Illumination for active virtue, to engage him to it
by the strongest motives, to render the attainment
of it easy and certain, by finding employment for
every talent, and by placing every talent in its proper
sphere of action, so that all, without feeling any
extraordinary effort, and in conjunction with and
completion of ordinary business, shall urge forward,
with united powers, the general task. This indeed
will be an employment, suited to noble natures,
grand in its views, and delightful in its exercise.
"And what is this general object? THE HAPPINESS
OF THE HUMAN RACE. Is it not distressing to a
generous mind, after contemplating what human
nature is capable of, to see how little we enjoy?
When we look at this goodly world, and see that
every man may be happy, but that the happiness of
one depends on the conduct of another; when we
see the wicked so powerful and the good so weak;
and that it is in vain to strive singly and alone, against
the general current of vice and oppression: the wish
naturally arises in the mind, that it were possible to
form a durable combination of the most worthy
persons, who should work together in removing the
obstacles to human happiness, become terrible to
the wicked, and give their aid to all the good without
distinction, and should, by the most powerful
means, first fetter, and by fettering, lessen vice;
means which at the same time should promote virtue,
by rendering the inclination to rectitude hitherto so
feeble, more powerful and engaging. Would not
such an association be a blessing to the world?
"But where are the proper persons, the good, the
generous, and the accomplished, to be found; and
how, and by what strong motives, are they to be
induced to engage in a task so vast, so incessant, so
difficult, and so laborious? This Association must
be gradual. There are some such persons to be
found in every society. Such noble minds will be
engaged by the heart-warming object. The first task
of the Association must therefore be to form the
young members. As these multiply and advance,
they become the apostles of beneficence, and the
work is now on foot, and advances with a speed encreasing
every day. The slightest observation shows
that nothing will so much contribute to increase the
zeal of the members as secret union. We see with
what keenness and zeal the frivolous business of
Free Masonry is conducted, by persons knit together
by the secrecy of their union. It is needless to
enquire into the causes of this zeal which secrecy
produces. It is an universal fact, confirmed by the
history of every age. Let this circumstance of our
constitution therefore be directed to this noble purpose,
and then all the objections urged against it by
jealous tyranny and affrighted superstition will vanish.
The order will thus work silently, and securely;
and though the generous benefactors of the human
race are thus deprived of the applause of the world,
they have the noble pleasure of seeing their work
prosper in their hands."
Such is the aim, and such are the hopes of the Order
of the Illuminated. Let us now see how these were
to be accomplished. We cannot judge with perfect
certainty of this, because the account given of the constitution
of the Order by its founder includes only the
lowest degree, and even this is liable to great suspicion.
The accounts given by the four Professors, even of
this part of the Order, make a very different impression
on the mind, although they differ only in a few particulars.
The only ostensible members of the Order were the
Minervals. They were to be found only in the Lodges
of Free Masons. A candidate for admission must make
his wish known to some Minerval; he reports it to a
Superior, who, by a channel to be explained presently,
intimates it to the Council. No notice is farther taken
of it for some time. The candidate is carefully observed
in silence, and if thought unfit for the Order,
no notice is taken of his solicitation. But if otherwise,
the candidate receives privately an invitation to a conference.
Here he meets with a person unknown to
him, and, previous to all further conference, he is required
to peruse and to sign the following oath:
"I, N. N. hereby bind myself, by mine honour
and good name, forswearing all mental reservation,
never to reveal, by hint, word, writing, or in any
manner whatever, even to my most trusted friend,
any thing that shall now be said or done to me respecting
my wished-for reception, and this whether
my reception shall follow or not, I being previously
assured that it shall contain nothing contrary to religion,
the state, nor good manners. I promise, that
I shall make no intelligible extract from any papers
which shall be shewn me now or during my noviciate.
All this I swear, as I am, and as I hope to
continue, a Man of Honour."
The urbanity of this protestation must agreeably
impress the mind of a person who recollects the dreadful
imprecations which he made at his reception into
the different ranks of Free Masonry. The candidate
is then introduced to an Illuminatus Dirigens, whom
perhaps he knows, and is told that this person is to be
his future instructor. There is now presented to the
candidate, what they call a table, in which he writes
his name, place of birth, age, rank, place of residence,
profession, and favourite studies. He is then made
to read several articles of this table. It contains, 1st,
a very concise account of the Order, its connection
with Free Masonry, and its great object, the promoting
the happiness of mankind by means of instruction
and confirmation in virtuous principles. 2d, Several
questions relative to the Order. Among these are,
"What advantages he hopes to derive from being a
member? What he most particularly wishes to
learn? What delicate questions relative to the life,
the prospects, the duties of man, as an individual,
and as a citizen, he wishes to have particularly discussed
to him? In what respects he thinks he can
be of use to the Order? Who are his ancestors, relations,
friends, correspondents, or enemies? Whom
he thinks proper persons to be received into the
Order, or whom he thinks unfit for it, and the reasons
for both opinions?" To each of these questions
he must give some answer in writing.
The Novice and his Mentor are known only to each
other; perhaps nothing more follows upon this; if
otherwise, the Mentor appoints another conference,
and begins his instructions, by giving him in detail
certain portions of the constitution, and of the fundamental
rules of the Order. Of these the Novice must
give a weekly account in writing. He must also read,
in the Mentor's house, a book containing more of the
instructions of the Order; but he must make no extracts.
Yet from this reading he must derive all his
knowledge; and he must give an account in writing
of his progress. All writings received from his Superiors
must be returned with a stated punctuality.—These
writings consist chiefly of important and delicate
questions, suited, either to the particular inclination,
or to the peculiar taste which the candidate had discovered
in his subscriptions of the articles of the table,
and in his former rescripts, or to the direction which
the Mentor wishes to give to his thoughts.
Enlightening the understanding, and the rooting out
of prejudices, are pointed out to him as the principal
tasks of his noviciate. The knowledge of himself is
considered as preparatory to all other knowledge. To
disclose to him, by means of the calm and unbiassed
observation of his instructor, what is his own character,
his most vulnerable side, either in respect of temper,
passions, or prepossessions, is therefore the most essential
service that can be done him. For this purpose
there is required of him some account of his own conduct
on occasions where he doubted of its propriety;
some account of his friendships, of his differences of
opinion, and of his conduct on such occasions. From
such relations the Superior learns his manner of thinking
and judging, and those propensities which require
his chief attention.
Having made the candidate acquainted with himself,
he is apprised that the Order is not a speculative, but
an active association, engaged in doing good to others.
The knowledge of human character is therefore of all
others the most important. This is acquired only by
observation, assisted by the instructions of his teacher.
Characters in history are proposed to him for observation,
and his opinion is required. After this he is directed
to look around him, and to notice the conduct
of other men; and part of his weekly rescripts must
consist of accounts of all interesting occurrences in his
neighbourhood, whether of a public or private nature.
Cossandey, one of the four Professors, gives a particular
account of the instructions relating to this kind
of science. "The Novice must be attentive to trifles:
For in frivolous occurrences a man is indolent,
and makes no effort to act a part, so that his real
character is then acting alone. Nothing will have
such influence with the Superiors in promoting the
advancement of a candidate as very copious narrations
of this kind, because the candidate, if promoted,
is to be employed in an active station, and it
is from this kind of information only that the Superiors
can judge of his fitness. These characteristic
anecdotes are not for the instruction of the Superiors,
who are men of long experience, and familiar
with such occupation. But they inform the Order
concerning the talents and proficiency of the young
member. Scientific instruction, being connected
by system, is soon communicated, and may in general
be very completely obtained from the books
which are recommended to the Novice, and acquired
in the public seminaries of instruction. But
knowledge of character is more multifarious and
more delicate. For this there is no college, and it
must therefore require longer time for its attainment.
Besides, this assiduous and long continued study of
men, enables the possessor of such knowledge to act
with men, and by his knowledge of their character,
to influence their conduct. For such reasons this
study is continued, and these rescripts are required,
during the whole progress through the Order, and
attention to them is recommended as the only mean
of advancement. Remarks on Physiognomy in
these narrations are accounted of considerable value."
So far Mr. Cossandey.
During all this trial, which may last one, two, or
three years, the Novice knows no person of the Order
but his own instructor, with whom he has frequent
meetings, along with other Minervals. In these conversations
he learns the importance of the Order, and
the opportunities he will afterwards have of acquiring
much hidden science. The employment of his unknown
Superiors naturally causes him to entertain very
high notions of their abilities and worth. He is counselled
to aim at a resemblance to them by getting rid
by degrees of all those prejudices or prepossessions
which checked his own former progress; and he is assisted
in this endeavour by an invitation to a correspondence
with them. He may address his Provincial
Superior, by directing his letter Soli, or the General
by Primo, or the Superiors in general by Quibus licet.
In these letters he may mention whatever he thinks
conducive to the advancement of the Order; he may
Inform the Superiors how his instructor behaves to
him; if assiduous or remiss, indulgent or severe. The
Superiors are enjoined by the strongest motives to convey
these letters wherever addressed. None but the
General and Council know the result of all this; and
all are enjoined to keep themselves and their proceedings
unknown to all the world.
If three years of this Noviciate have elapsed without
further notice, the Minerval must look for no further
advancement; he is found unfit, and remains a
Free Mason of the highest class. This is called a Sta
bene.
But should his Superiors judge more favourably of
him, he is drawn out of the general mass of Free
Masons, and becomes Illuminatus Minor. When called
to a conference for this purpose, he is told in the
most serious manner, that "it is vain for him to hope
to acquire wisdom by mere systematic instruction;
for such instruction the Superiors have no leisure.
Their duty is not to form speculators, but active
men, whom they must immediately employ in the
service of the Order. He must therefore grow wise
and able entirely by the unfolding and exertion of
his own talents. His Superiors have already discovered
what these are, and know what service he may
be capable of rendering the Order, provided he
now heartily acquiesces in being thus honourably
employed. They will assist him in bringing his talents
into action, and will place him in the situations
most favourable for their exertion, so that he
may be assured of success. Hitherto he has been a
mere scholar, but his first step farther carries him
into action; he must therefore now consider himself
as an instrument in the hands of his Superiors, to
be used for the noblest purposes." The aim of the
order is now more fully told him. It is, in one sentence,
"to make of the human race, without any
distinction of nation, condition, or profession, one
good and happy family." To this aim, demonstrably
attainable, every smaller consideration must give
way. This may sometimes require sacrifices which no
man standing alone has fortitude to make; but which
become light, and a source of the purest enjoyment,
when supported and encouraged by the countenance
and co-operation of the united wise and good,
such as are the Superiors of the Order. If the candidate,
warmed by the alluring picture of the possible
happiness of a virtuous Society, says that he is sensible
of the propriety of this procedure, and still wishes
to be of the Order, he is required to sign the following
obligation.
"I, N. N. protest before you, the worthy Plenipotentiary
of the venerable Order into which I wish
to be admitted, that I acknowledge my natural
weakness and inability, and that I, with all my possessions,
rank, honours, and titles which I hold in
political society, am, at bottom, only a man; I
can enjoy these things only through my fellow-men,
and through them also I may lose them. The approbation
and consideration of my fellow-men are
indispensably necessary, and I must try to maintain
them by all my talents. These I will never use to
the prejudice of universal good, but will oppose,
with all my might, the enemies of the human race,
and of political society. I will embrace every opportunity
of saving mankind, by improving my understanding
and my affections, and by imparting all
important knowledge, as the good and statutes of
this Order require of me. I bind myself to perpetual
silence and unshaken loyalty and submission to
the Order, in the persons of my Superiors; here
making a faithful and complete surrender of my private
judgment, my own will, and every narrow-minded
employment of my power and influence. I
pledge myself to account the good of the Order as
my own, and am ready to serve it with my fortune,
my honour, and my blood. Should I, through
omission, neglect, passion, or wickedness, behave
contrary to this good of the Order, I subject myself
to what reproof or punishment my Superiors
shall enjoin. The friends and enemies of the Order
shall be my friends and enemies; and with respect
to both I will conduct myself as directed by the Order,
and am ready, in every lawful way, to devote
myself to its increase and promotion, and therein to
employ all my ability. All this I promise, and protest,
without secret reservation, according to the
intention of the Society which require from me this
engagement. This I do as I am, and as I hope to
continue, a Man of Honour."
A drawn sword is then pointed at his breast, and he
is asked, Will you be obedient to the commands of
your Superiors? He is threatened with unavoidable
vengeance, from which no potentate can defend him,
if he should ever betray the Order. He is then asked,
1. What aim does he wish the Order to have? 2. What
means he would choose to advance this aim? 3. Whom
he wishes to keep out of the Order? 4. What subjects
he wishes not to be discussed in it?
Our candidate is now Illuminatus Minor. It is
needless to narrate the mummery of reception, and it
is enough to say, that it nearly resembles that of the
Masonic Chevalier du Soleil, known to every one much
conversant in Masonry. Weishaupt's preparatory discourse
of reception is a piece of good composition,
whether considered as argumentative, (from topics indeed,
that are very gratuitous and fanciful,) or as a
specimen of that declamation which was so much practiced
by Libanius and the other Sophists, and it gives
a distinct and captivating account of the professed aim
of the Order.
The Illuminatus Minor learns a good deal more of the
Order, but by very sparing morsels, under the same
instructor. The task has now become more delicate
and difficult. The chief part of it is the rooting out
of prejudices in politics and religion; and Weishaupt
has shown much address in the method which he has
employed. Not the most hurtful, but the most easily
refuted were the first subjects of discussion, so that the
pupil gets into the habits of victory; and his reverence
for the systems of either kind is diminished when they
are found to have harboured such untenable opinions.
The proceedings in the Eclectic Lodges of Masonry,
and the harangues of the Brother Orators, teemed
with the boldest sentiments both in politics and religion.
Enlightening, and the triumph of reason, had
been the ton of the country for some time past, and
every institution, civil and religious, had been the subject
of the most free criticism. Above all, the Cosmopolitism,
imported from France, where it had been
the favourite topic of the enthusiastical œconomists,
was now become a general theme of discussion in all societies
that had any pretensions to cultivation. It was
a subject of easy and agreeable declamation; and the
Literati found in it a subject admirably fitted for shewing
their talents, and ingratiating themselves with the
young men of fortune, whose minds, unsuspicious as
yet and generous, were fired with the fair prospects set
before them of universal and attainable happiness. And
the pupils of the Illuminati were still more warmed by
the thought that they were to be the happy instruments
of accomplishing all this. And though the doctrines
of universal liberty and equality, as imprescriptible
rights of man, might sometimes startle those who possessed
the advantage of fortune, there were thousands
of younger sons, and of men of talents without fortune,
to whom these were agreeable sounds. And
we must particularly observe, that those who were
now the pupils were a set of picked subjects, whose
characters and peculiar biases were well known by
their conduct during their noviciate as Minervals.
They were therefore such as, in all probability, would
not boggle at very free sentiments. We might rather
expect a partiality to doctrines which removed some
restraints which formerly checked them in the indulgence
of youthful passions. Their instructors, who
have thus relieved their minds from several anxious
thoughts, must appear men of superior minds. This
was a notion most carefully inculcated; and they
could see nothing to contradict it; for, except their
own Mentor, they knew none; they heard of Superiors
of different ranks, but never saw them; and the
same mode of instruction that was practised during
their noviciate was still retained. More particulars of
the Order were slowly unfolded to them, and they were
taught that their Superiors were men of distinguished
talents, and were Superiors for this reason alone. They
were taught, that the great opportunities which the
Superiors had for observation, and their habits of continually
occupying their thoughts with the great objects
of this Order, had enlarged their views, even
far beyond the narrow limits of nations and kingdoms,
which they hoped would one day coalesce into one
great Society, where consideration would attach to talents
and worth alone, and that pre-eminence in these
would be invariably attended with all the enjoyments
of influence and power. And they were told that
they would gradually become acquainted with these
great and venerable Characters, as they advanced in
the Order. In earnest of this, they were made acquainted
with one or two Superiors, and with several
Illuminati of their own rank. Also, to whet
their zeal, they are now made instructors of one or
two Minervals, and report their progress to their Superiors.
They are given to understand that nothing
can so much recommend them as the success with
which they perform this task. It is declared to be
the best evidence of their usefulness in the great designs
of the Order.
The baleful effects of general superstition, and even
of any peculiar religious prepossession, are now strongly
inculcated, and the discernment of the pupils in
these matters is learned by questions which are given
them from time to time to discuss. These are managed
with delicacy and circumspection, that the timid
may not be alarmed. In like manner, the political
doctrines of the Order are inculcated with the utmost
caution. After the mind of the pupil has been warmed
by the pictures of universal happiness, and convinced
that it is a possible thing to unite all the inhabitants
of the earth in one great society; and after it
has been made out, in some measure to the satisfaction
of the pupil, that a great addition of happiness would
be gained by the abolition of national distinctions and
animosities; it may frequently be no hard task to make
him think that patriotism is a narrow-minded monopolising
sentiment, and even incompatible with the more
enlarged views of the Order; namely, the uniting the
whole human race into one great and happy society.
Princes are a chief feature of national distinction.
Princes, therefore, may now be safely represented as
unnecessary. If so, loyalty to Princes loses much of
its sacred character; and the so frequent enforcing of
it in our common political discussions may now be easily
made to appear a selfish maxim of rulers, by which
they may more easily enslave the people; and thus, it
may at last appear, that religion, the love of our particular
country, and loyalty to our Prince, should be
resisted, if, by these partial or narrow views, we prevent
the accomplishment of that Cosmo-political happiness
which is continually held forth as the great object
of the Order. It is in this point of view that the
terms of devotion to the Order, which are inserted in
the oath of admission, are now explained. The authority
of the ruling powers is therefore represented as
of inferior moral weight to that of the Order. "These
powers are despots, when they do not conduct themselves
by its principles; and it is therefore our duty
to surround them with its members, so that the
profane may have no access to them. Thus we are
able most powerfully to promote its interests. If
any person is more disposed to listen to Princes
than to the Order, he is not fit for it, and must rise
no higher. We must do our utmost to procure the
advancement of Illuminati into all important civil
offices."
Accordingly the Order laboured in this with great
zeal and success. A correspondence was discovered,
in which it is plain, that by their influence, one of the
greatest ecclesiastical dignities was filled up in opposition
to the right and authority of the Archbishop of
Spire, who is there represented as a tyrannical and bigoted
priest. They contrived to place their Members
as tutors to the youth of distinction. One of them,
Baron Leuchtsenring, took the charge of a young
prince without any salary. They insinuated themselves
into all public offices, and particularly into courts of
justice. In like manner, the chairs in the University
of Ingolstadt were (with only two exceptions) occupied
by Illuminati. "Rulers who are members must be
promoted through the ranks of the Order only in
proportion as they acknowledge the goodness of its
great object, and manner of procedure. Its object
may be said to be the checking the tyranny of
princes, nobles, and priests, and establishing an
universal equality of condition and of religion."
The pupil is now informed, "that such a religion is
contained in the Order, is the perfection of Christianity,
and will be imparted to him in due time."
These and other principles and maxims of the Order
are partly communicated by the verbal instruction
of the Mentor, partly by writings, which must be
punctually returned, and partly read by the pupil at
the Mentor's house, (but without taking extracts,)
in such portions as he shall direct. The rescripts by
the pupil must contain discussions on these subjects,
and anecdotes and descriptions of living characters;
and these must be zealously continued, as the chief
mean of advancement. All this while the pupil knows
only his Mentor, the Minervals, and a few others of
his own rank. All mention of degrees, or other business
of the Order, must be carefully avoided, even
in the meetings with other members: "For the Order
wishes to be secret, and to work in silence; for
thus it is better secured from the oppression of the
ruling powers, and because this secrecy gives a
greater zest to the whole."
This short account of the Noviciate, and of the
lowest class of illuminati, is all we can get from the
authority of Mr. Weishaupt. The higher degrees
were not published by him. Many circumstances appear
suspicious, are certainly susceptible of different
turns, and may easily be pushed to very dangerous
extremes. The accounts given by the four professors
confirm these suspicions. They declare upon oath,
that they make all these accusations in consequence of
what they heard in the meetings, and of what they
knew of the Higher Orders.
But since the time of the suppression by the Elector,
discoveries have been made which throw great light
on the subject. A collection of original papers and
correspondence was found by searching the house of
one Zwack (a Member) in 1786. The following
year a much larger collection was found at the house
of Baron Bassus; and since that time Baron Knigge,
the most active Member next to Weishaupt, published
an account of some of the higher degrees, which had
been formed by himself. A long while after this were
published, Neueste Arbeitung des Spartacus und Philo in
der Illuminaten Orden, and Hohere Graden des Illum. Ordens.
These two works give an account of the whole
secret constitution of the Order, its various degrees,
the manner of conferring them, the instructions to the
intrants, and an explanation of the connection of the
Order with Free Masonry, and a critical history. We
shall give some extracts from such of these as have
been published.
Weishaupt was the founder in 1776. In 1778 the
number of Members was considerably increased, and
the Order was fully established. The Members took
antique names. Thus Weishaupt took the name of
Spartacus, the man who headed the insurrection of
slaves, which in Pompey's time kept Rome in terror
and uproar for three years. Zwack was called Cato.
Knigge was Philo. Bassus was Hannibal. Hertel
was Marius. Marquis Constanza was Diomedes.—Nicolai,
an eminent and learned bookseller in Berlin,
and author of several works of reputation, took the
name of Lucian, the great scoffer at all religion. Another
was Mahomet, &c. It is remarkable, that except
Cato and Socrates, we have not a name of any
ancient who was eminent as a teacher and practiser of
virtue. On the contrary, they seem to have affected
the characters of the free-thinkers and turbulent spirits
of antiquity. In the same manner they gave ancient
names to the cities and countries of Europe. Munich
was Athens, Vienna was Rome, &c.
Spartacus to Cato, Feb. 6, 1778.
"Mon but est de faire valoir la raison. As a subordinate
object I shall endeavour to gain security to
ourselves, a backing in case of misfortunes, and assistance
from without. I shall therefore press the
cultivation of science, especially such sciences as
may have an influence on our reception in the world,
and may serve to remove obstacles out of the way.
We have to struggle with pedantry, with intolerance,
with divines and statesmen, and above all,
princes and priests are in our way. Men are unfit
as they are, and must be formed; each class must
be the school of trial for the next. This will be tedious,
because it is hazardous. In the last classes I
propose academics under the direction of the Order.
This will secure us the adherence of the Literati.
Science shall here be the lure. Only those who are
assuredly proper subjects shall be picked out from
among the inferior classes for the higher mysteries,
which contain the first principles and means of promoting
a happy life. No religionist must, on any
account, be admitted into these: For here we work
at the discovery and extirpation of superstition and
prejudices. The instructions shall be so conducted
that each shall disclose what he thinks he conceals
within his own breast, what are his ruling propensities
and passions, and how far he has advanced in
the command of himself. This will answer all the
purposes of auricular confession. And, in particular,
every person shall be made a spy on another
and on all around him. Nothing can escape our
sight; by these means we shall readily discover who
are contented, and receive with relish the peculiar
state-doctrines and religious opinions that are laid
before them; and, at last, the trust-worthy alone
will be admitted to a participation of the whole
maxims and political constitution of the Order. In
a council composed of such members we shall labour
at the contrivance of means to drive by degrees the
enemies of reason and of humanity out of the world,
and to establish a peculiar morality and religion fitted
for the great Society of Mankind.
"But this is a ticklish project, and requires the utmost
circumspection. The squeamish will start at
the sight of religious or political novelties; and
they must be prepared for them. We must be particularly
careful about the books which we recommend;
I shall confine them at first to moralists and
reasoning historians. This will prepare for a patient
reception, in the higher classes, of works of a bolder
flight, such as Robinet's Systeme de la Nature—Politique
Naturelle—Philosophie de la Nature—Systeme Social—The
writings of Mirabaud, &c. Helvetius
is fit only for the strongest stomachs. If any one
has a copy already, neither praise nor find fault with
him. Say nothing on such subjects to intrants, for
we don't know how they will be received—folks are
not yet prepared. Marius, an excellent man, must
be dealt with. His stomach, which cannot yet digest
such strong food, must acquire a better tone.
The allegory on which I am to found the mysteries
of the Higher Orders is the fire-worship of the Magi.
We must have some worship, and none is so apposite.
Let there be light, and there shall be
light. This is my motto, and is my fundamental
principle. The degrees will be Feuer Orden, Parsen
Orden[4]; all very practicable. In the course through
these there will be no STA BENE (this is the answer
given to one who solicits preferment, and is refused).
For I engage that none shall enter this class who has
not laid aside his prejudices. No man is fit for our
Order who is not a Brutus or a Catiline, and is not
ready to go every length.—Tell me how you like
this?"
Spartacus to Cato, March 1778.
"To collect unpublished works, and information
from the archives of States, will be a most useful service.
We shall be able to show in a very ridiculous
light the claims of our despots. Marius (keeper of
the archives of the Electorate) has ferreted out a noble
document, which we have got. He makes it,
forsooth, a case of conscience—how silly that—since
only that is sin which is ultimately productive of mischief.
In this case, where the advantage far exceeds
the hurt, it is meritorious virtue. It will do more
good in our hands than by remaining for 1000 years
on the dusty shelf."
There was found in the hand-writing of Zwack a
project for a Sisterhood, in subserviency to the designs
of the Illuminati. In it are the following passages:
"It will be of great service, and procure us both
much information and money, and will suit charmingly
the taste of many of our truest members, who
are lovers of the sex. It should consist of two classes,
the virtuous and the freer hearted (i. e. those who
fly out of the common track of prudish manners);
they must not know of each other, and must be under
the direction of men, but without knowing it.
Proper books must be put into their hands, and such
(but secretly) as are flattering to their passions."
There are, in the same hand-writing, Description of
a strong box, which, if forced open, shall blow up and
destroy its contents—Several receipts for procuring
abortion—A composition which blinds or kills when
spurted in the face—A sheet, containing a receipt for
sympathetic ink—Tea for procuring abortion—Herbæ
quae habent qualitatem deleteream—A method for filling
a bed-chamber with pestilential vapours—How to take
off impressions of seals, so as to use them afterwards as
seals—A collection of some hundreds of such impressions,
with a list of their owners, princes, nobles,
clergymen, merchants, &c.—A receipt ad excitandum
furorem uterinum,—A manuscript intitled, "Better than
Horus." It was afterwards printed and distributed at
Leipzig fair, and is an attack and bitter satire on all religion.
This is in the hand-writing of Ajax. As also a
dissertation on suicide.—N. B. His sister-in-law threw herself
from the top of a tower. There was also a set of
portraits, or characters of eighty-five ladies in Munich;
with recommendations of some of them for members
of a Lodge of Sister Illuminatæ; also injunctions to all
the Superiors to learn to write with both hands; and
that they should use more than one cypher.
Immediately after the publication of these writings,
many defences appeared. It was said that the dreadful
medical apparatus were with propriety in the hands
of Counsellor Zwack, who was a judge of a criminal
court, and whose duty it was therefore to know such
things. The same excuse was offered for the collection
of seals; but how came these things to be put up
with papers of the Illuminati, and to be in the hand-writing
of one of that Order? Weishaupt says, "These
things were not carried into effect—only spoken of,
and are justifiable when taken in proper connection."
This however he has not pointed out; but
he appeals to the account of the Order, which he had
published at Regensburg, and in which neither these
things are to be found, nor any possibility of a connection
by which they may be justified. "All men,"
says he, "are subject to errors, and the best man is he
who best conceals them. I have never been guilty
of any such vices or follies: for proof, I appeal to
the whole tenor of my life, which my reputation,
and my struggles with hostile cabals, had brought
completely into public view long before the institution
of this Order, without abating any thing of that
flattering regard which was paid to me by the first
persons of my country and its neighbourhood; a regard
well evinced by their confidence in me as the
best instructor of their children." In some of his
private letters, we learn the means which he employed
to acquire this influence among the youth, and they
are such as could not fail. But we must not anticipate.
"It is well known that I have made the chair which I
occupied in the university of Ingolstadt, the resort
of the first class of the German youth; whereas formerly
it had only brought round it the low-born
practitioners in the courts of law. I have gone
through the whole circle of human enquiry. I have
exorcised spirits—raised ghosts—discovered treasures—interrogated
the Cabala—hatte Loto gespielt—I
have never transmuted metals."—(A very pretty
and respectable circle indeed, and what vulgar spirits
would scarcely have included within the pale of their
curiosity.)—"The Tenor of my life has been the opposite
of every thing that is vile; and no man can
lay any such thing to my charge. I have reason to
rejoice that these writings have appeared; they are a
vindication of the Order and of my conduct. I can
and must declare to God, and I do it now in the
most solemn manner, that in my whole life I never
saw or heard of the so much condemned secret writings;
and in particular, respecting these abominable
means, such as poisoning, abortion, &c. was it
ever known to me in any case, that any of my friends
or acquaintances ever even thought of them, advised
them, or made any use of them. I was indeed
always a schemer and projector, but never could engage
much in detail. My general plan is good,
though in the detail there may be faults. I had myself
to form. In another situation, and in an active
station in life, I should have been keenly occupied,
and the founding an Order would never have come
into my head. But I would have executed much
greater things, had not government always opposed
my exertions, and placed others in the situations
which suited my talents. It was the full conviction
of this and of what could be done, if every man were
placed in the office for which he was fitted by nature
and a proper education, which first suggested to me
the plan of Illumination." Surely Mr. Weishaupt
had a very serious charge, the education of youth; and
his encouragement in that charge was the most flattering
that an Illuminatus could wish for; because he had
brought round him the youth whose influence in society
was the greatest, and who would most of all contribute
to the diffusing good principles, and exciting to
good conduct through the whole state. "I did not,"
says he, "bring deism into Bavaria more than into
Rome. I found it here, in great vigour, more abounding
than in any of the neighbouring Protestant
states. I am proud to be known to the world as
the founder of the Order of Illuminati; and I repeat
my wish to have for my epitaph,
"Hic situs est Phæthon, currús auriga paterni,
Quem si non tenuit, magnis tamen excidit ausis."
The second discovery of secret correspondence at
Sandersdorff, the seat of Baron Batz, (Hannibal,) contains
still more interesting facts.
Spartacus to Cato.
"What shall I do? I am deprived of all help. Socrates,
who would insist on being a man of consequence
among us, and is really a man of talents,
and of a right way of thinking, is eternally besotted.
Augustus is in the worst estimation imaginable. Alcibiades
sits the day long with the vintner's pretty
wife, and there he sighs and pines. A few days
ago, at Corinth, Tiberius attempted to ravish the
wife of Democides, and her husband came in upon
them. Good heavens! what Areopagitæ I have got.
When the worthy man Marcus Aurelius comes to
Athens, (Munich,) what will he think? What a
meeting of dissolute, immoral wretches, whoremasters,
liars, bankrupts, braggarts, and vain fools!
When he sees all this, what will he think? He will
be ashamed to enter into an Association," (observe
Reader, that Spartacus writes this in August 1783, in
the very time that he would have murdered Cato's sister,
as we shall see,) "where the chiefs raise the
highest expectations, and exhibit such wretched examples;
and all this from self-will, from sensuality.
Am I not in the right—that this man—that any
such worthy man—whose name alone would give us
the selection of all Germany, will declare that the
whole province of Grecia, (Bavaria,) innocent and
guilty, must be excluded. I tell you, we may study,
and write, and toil till death. We may sacrifice
to the Order, our health, our fortune, and our
reputation, (alas, the loss!) and these Lords, following
their own pleasures, will whore, cheat, steal,
and drive on like shameless rascals; and yet must
be Areopagitæ, and interfere in every thing. Indeed,
my dearest friend, we have only enslaved
ourselves."
In another part of this fine correspondence, Diomedes
has had the good fortune to intercept a Q. L.
(Quibus Licet,) in which it is said, and supported by
proofs, that Cato had received 250 florins as a bribe
for his sentence in his capacity of a judge in a criminal
court (the end had surely sanctified the means.) In
another, a Minerval complains of his Mentor for having
by lies occasioned the dismission of a physician
from a family, by which the Mentor obtained, in the
same capacity, the custom of the house and free access,
which favour he repaid by debauching the wife; and
he prays to be informed whether he may not get another
Mentor, saying that although that man had always
given him the most excellent instructions, and he
doubted not would continue them, yet he felt a disgust
at the hypocrisy, which would certainly diminish the
impression of the most salutary truths. (Is it not distressing
to think, that this promising youth will by and
by laugh at his former simplicity, and follow the
steps and not the instructions of his physician.) In
another place, Spartacus writes to Marius, (in confidence,)
that another worthy Brother, an Areopagitæ,
had stolen a gold and a silver watch, and a ring,
from Brutus, (Savioli,) and begs Marius, in another
letter, to try, while it was yet possible, to get the
things restored, because the culprit was a most excellent
man, (Vortrefflich,) and of vast use to the Order, having
the direction of an eminent seminary of young gentlemen;
and because Savioli was much in good company,
and did not much care for the Order, except in
so far as it gave him an opportunity of knowing and
leading some of them, and of steering his way at
court.
I cannot help inserting here, though not the most
proper place, a part of a provincial report from Knigge,
the man of the whole Aeropagitæ who shows any thing
like urbanity or gentleness of mind.
"Of my whole colony, (Westphalia,) the most brilliant
is Claudiopolis (Neuwied). There they work,
and direct, and do wonders."
If there ever was a spot upon earth where men may
be happy in a state of cultivated society, it was the little
principality of Neuwied. I saw it in 1770. The
town was neat, and the palace handsome and in good
taste. But the country was beyond conception delightful;
not a cottage that was out of repair, not a hedge
out of order; it had been the hobby (pardon me the
word) of the Prince, who made it his daily employment
to go through his principality regularly, and assist every
housholder, of whatever condition, with his advice,
and with his purse; and, when a freeholder could not
of himself put things into a thriving condition, the
Prince sent his workmen and did it for him. He endowed
schools for the common people, and two academies
for the gentry and the people of business. He
gave little portions to the daughters, and prizes to the
well-behaving sons of the labouring people. His own
houshold was a pattern of elegance and economy; his
sons were sent to Paris to learn elegance, and to England
to learn science and agriculture. In short, the
whole was like a romance (and was indeed romantic).
I heard it spoken of with a smile at the table of the
Bishop of Treves, at Ehrenbretstein, and was induced
to see it next day as a curiosity: And yet even here,
the fanaticism of Knigge would distribute his poison,
and tell the blinded people, that they were in a state
of sin and misery, that their Prince was a despot, and
that they would never be happy till he was made to
fly, and till they were all made equal.
They got their wish; the swarm of French locusts
sat down on Neuwied's beautiful fields in 1793, and
entrenched themselves; and in three months, Prince
and farmers houses, and cottages, and schools, and
academies—all had vanished; and all the subjects were
made equal. But when they complained to the French
General (René le Grand) of being plundered by his
soldiers, he answered, with a contemptuous and cutting
laugh, "All is ours—we have left you your eyes
to cry."—(Report to the Convention, 13th June 1795.)
Discite justitiam moniti, et non temnere divos!
To proceed:
Spartacus to Cato.
"By this plan we shall direct all mankind. In this
manner, and by the simplest means, we shall set all
in motion and in flames. The occupations must be
so allotted and contrived, that we may, in secret,
influence all political transactions." N. B. This alludes
to a part that is with-held from the public, because
it contained the allotment of the most rebellious
and profligate occupations to several persons whose
common names could not be traced. "I have considered,"
says Spartacus, "every thing, and so prepared
it, that if the Order should this day go to ruin,
I shall in a year re-establish it more brilliant than
ever." Accordingly it got up again in about this
space of time, under the name of the German Union,
appearing in the form of Reading Societies. One
of these was set up in Zwack's house; and this raising
a suspicion, a visitation was made at Landshut, and the
first set of the private papers were found. The scheme
was, however, zealously prosecuted in other parts of
Germany, as we shall see by and by. "Nor," continues
Spartacus, "will it signify though all should be
betrayed and printed. I am so certain of success, in
spite of all obstacles, (for the springs are in every
heart,) that I am indifferent, though it should involve
my life and my liberty. What! have thousands
thrown away their lives about homoios and homoiousies
and shall not this cause warm even the heart of a
coward? But I have the art to draw advantage even
from misfortune; and when you would think me
sunk to the bottom, I shall rise with new vigour.
Who would have thought, that a professor at Ingolstadt
was to become the teacher of the professors of
Gottingen, and of the greatest men in Germany?"
Spartacus to Cato.
"Send me back my degree of Illuminatus Minor;
it is the wonder of all men here (I may perhaps find
time to give a translation of the discourse of reception,
which contains all that can be said of this Association
to the public); as also the two last sheets
of my degree, which is in the keeping of Marius,
and Celsus, under 100 locks, which contains my
history of the lives of the Patriarchs." N. B. Nothing
very particular has been discovered of these lives
of the Patriarchs. He says, that there were above
sixty sheets of it. To judge by the care taken of it,
it must be a favourite work, very hazardous, and very
catching.
In another letter to Cato, we have some hints of the
higher degrees, and concerning a peculiar morality,
and a popular religion, which the Order was one day
to give the world. He says, "There must (a la Jesuite)
not a single purpose ever come in sight that is
ambiguous, and that may betray our aims against
religion and the state. One must speak sometimes
one way and sometimes another, but so as never to
contradict ourselves, and so that, with respect to
our true way of thinking, we may be impenetrable.
When our strongest things chance to give offence,
they must be explained as attempts to draw answers
which discover to us the sentiments of the person
we converse with." N. B. This did not always succeed
with him.
Spartacus says, speaking of the priests degree, "One
would almost imagine, that this degree, as I have managed
it, is genuine Christianity, and that its end
was to free the Jews from slavery. I say, that Free
Masonry is concealed Christianity. My explanation
of the hieroglyphics, at least, proceeds on this supposition;
and as I explain things, no man need be
ashamed of being a Christian. Indeed I afterwards
throw away this name, and substitute Reason. But
I assure you this is no small affair; a new religion,
and a new state-government, which so happily explain
one and all of these symbols, and combine
them in one degree. You may think that this is
my chief work; but I have three other degrees,
all different, for my class of higher mysteries, in
comparison with which this is but child's play; but
these I keep for myself as General, to be bestowed
by me only on the Benemeritissimi," (surely such as
Cato, his dearest friend, and the possessor of such pretty
secrets, as abortives, poisons, pestilential vapours,
&c.). "The promoted may be Areopagites or not.
Were you here I should give you this degree without
hesitation. But it is too important to be intrusted
to paper, or to be bestowed otherwise than from
my own hand. It is the key to history, to religion,
and to every state-government in the world."[5]
Spartacus proceeds, "There shall be but three
copies for all Germany. You can't imagine what
respect and curiosity my priest-degree has raised;
and, which is wonderful, a famous Protestant divine,
who is now of the Order, is persuaded that
the religion contained in it is the true sense of Christianity.
O man, man! to what may'st thou
not be persuaded. Who would imagine that I
was to be the founder of a new religion?"
In this scheme of Masonic Christianity, Spartacus
and Philo laboured seriously together. Spartacus sent
him the materials, and Philo worked them up. It
will therefore illustrate this capital point of the constitution
of the Order, if we take Philo's account of it.
Philo to Cato.
"We must consider the ruling propensities of every
age of the world. At present the cheats and tricks
of the priests have roused all men against them, and
against Christianity. But, at the same time, superstition
and fanaticism rule with unlimited dominion,
and the understanding of man really seems to be
going backwards. Our task, therefore, is doubled.
We must give such an account of things, that fanatics
should not be alarmed, and that shall, notwithstanding,
excite a spirit of free enquiry. We must
not throw away the good with the bad, the child
with the dirty water; but we must make the secret
doctrines of Christianity be received as the secrets
of genuine Free Masonry. But farther, we have to
deal with the despotism of Princes. This increases
every day. But then, the spirit of freedom breathes
and sighs in every corner; and, by the assistance of
hidden schools of wisdom, Liberty and Equality,
the natural and imprescriptible rights of man, warm
and glow in every breast. We must therefore unite
these extremes. We proceed in this manner.
"Jesus Christ established no new Religion; he
would only set Religion and Reason in their ancient
rights. For this purpose he would unite men in a
common bond. He would fit them for this by
spreading a just morality, by enlightening the understanding,
and by assisting the mind to shake off
all prejudices. He would teach all men, in the first
place, to govern themselves. Rulers would then
be needless, and equality and liberty would take
place without any revolution, by the natural and
gentle operation of reason and expediency. This
great Teacher allows himself to explain every part
of the Bible in conformity to these purposes; and
he forbids all wrangling among his scholars, because
every man may there find a reasonable application
to his peculiar doctrines. Let this be true or false, it
does not signify. This was a simple Religion, and
it was so far inspired; but the minds of his hearers
were not fitted for receiving these doctrines. I told
you, says he, but you could not bear it. Many
therefore were called, but few were chosen. To
this elect were entrusted the most important secrets;
and even among them there were degrees of information.
There was a seventy, and a twelve. All
this was in the natural order of things, and according
to the habits of the Jews, and indeed of all antiquity.
The Jewish Theosophy was a mystery;
like the Eleusinian, or the Pythagorean, unfit for
the vulgar. And thus the doctrines of Christianity
were committed to the Adepti, in a Disciplina Arcani.
By these they were maintained like the Vestal Fire.—They
were kept up only in hidden societies, who
handed them down to posterity; and they are now
possessed by the genuine Free Masons."
N. B. This explains the origin of many anonymous
pamphlets which appeared about this time in Germany,
showing that Free Masonry was Christianity.—They
have doubtless been the works of Spartacus and
his partisans among the Eclectic Masons. Nicholai,
the great apostle of infidelity, had given very favourable
reviews of these performances, and having always
shewn himself an advocate of such writers as depreciated
Christianity, it was natural for him to take this
opportunity of bringing it still lower in the opinion of
the people. Spartacus therefore conceived a high opinion
of the importance of gaining Nicholai to the Order.
He had before this gained Leuchtsenring, a hot-headed
fanatic, who had spied Jesuits in every corner,
and set Nicholai on his journey through Germany, to
hunt them out. This man finding them equally hated
by the Illuminati, was easily gained, and was most
zealous in their cause. He engaged Nicholai, and
Spartacus exults exceedingly in the acquisition, saying,
"that he was an unwearied champion, et quidem contentissimus."
Of this man Philo says, "that he had
spread this Christianity into every corner of Germany.
I have put meaning," says Philo, "to all
these dark symbols, and have prepared both degrees,
introducing beautiful ceremonies, which I
have selected from among those of the ancient communions,
combined with those of the Rosaic Masonry;
and now," says he, "it will appear that we
are the only true Christians. We shall now be in a
condition to say a few words to Priests and Princes.
I have so contrived things, that I would admit even
Popes and Kings, after the trials which I have prefixed,
and they would be glad to be of the Order."
But how is all this to be reconciled with the plan of
Illumination, which is to banish Christianity altogether?
Philo himself in many places says, "that it is
only a cloak, to prevent squeamish people from
starting back." This is done pretty much in the
same way that was practised in the French Masonry.
In one of their Rituals the Master's degree is made
typical of the death of Jesus Christ, the preacher of
Brotherly love. But, in the next step, the Chevalier
du Soleil, it is Reason that has been destroyed and entombed,
and the Master in this degree, the Sublime
Philosophe, occasions the discovery of the place where
the body is hid; Reason rises again, and superstition
and tyranny disappear, and all becomes clear; man becomes
free and happy.
Let us hear Spartacus again.
Spartacus, in another place.
"We must, 1st, gradually explain away all our preparatory
pious frauds. And when persons of discernment
find fault, we must desire them to consider the
end of all our labour. This sanctifies our means,
which at any rate are harmless, and have been useful,
even in this case, because they procured us a
patient hearing, when otherwise men would have
turned away from us like petted children. This
will convince them of our sentiments in all the intervening
points; and our ambiguous expressions
will then be interpreted into an endeavour to draw
answers of any kind, which may show us the minds
of our pupils. 2d, We must unfold, from history
and other writings, the origin and fabrication of all
religious lies whatever; and then, 3d, We give a
critical history of the Order. But I cannot but
laugh, when I think of the ready reception which
all this has met with from the grave and learned divines
of Germany and of England; and I wonder
how their William failed when he attempted to establish
a Deistical Worship in London, (what can this
mean?) for, I am certain, that it must have been
most acceptable to that learned and free people. But
they had not the enlightening of our days." I may
here remark, that Weishaupt is presuming too much
on the ignorance of his friend, for there was a great
deal of this enlightening in England at the time he
speaks of, and if I am not mistaken, even this celebrated
Professor of Irreligion has borrowed most of his
scheme from this kingdom. This to be sure is nothing
in our praise. But the Pantheisticon of Toland
resembles Weishaupt's Illumination in every thing but
its rebellion and its villainy. Toland's Socratic Lodge
is an elegant pattern for Weishaupt, and his Triumph
of Reason, his Philosophic Happiness, his God, or
Anima Mundi, are all so like the harsh system of Spartacus,
that I am convinced that he has copied them,
stamping them with the roughness of his own character.
But to go on; Spartacus says of the English:
"Their poet Pope made his Essay on Man a system
of pure naturalism, without knowing it, as Brother
Chrysippus did with my Priest's Degree, and was
equally astonished when this was pointed out to him.
Chrysippus is religious, but not superstitious. Brother
Lucian (Nicolai, of whom I have already said
so much) says, that the grave Zolikofer now allows
that it would be a very proper thing to establish a
Deistical Worship at Berlin. I am not afraid but
things will go on very well. But Philo, who was
entrusted with framing the Priest's Degree, has destroyed
it without any necessity; it would, forsooth,
startle those who have a hankering for Religion. But
I always told you that Philo is fanatical and prudish.
I gave him fine materials, and he has stuffed it full
of ceremonies and child's play, and as Minos says,
c'est jouer la religion. But all this may be corrected
in the revision by the Areopagitæ."
N. B. I have already mentioned Baron Knigge's
conversion to Illuminatism by the M. de Constanza,
whose name in the Order was Diomedes. Knigge
(henceforth Philo) was, next to Spartacus, the most
serviceable man in the Order, and procured the greatest
number of members. It was chiefly by his exertions
among the Masons in the Protestant countries,
that the Eclectic System was introduced, and afterwards
brought under the direction of the Illuminati. This
conquest was owing entirely to his very extensive connections
among the Masons. He travelled like a philosopher
from city to city, from Lodge to Lodge, and
even from house to house, before his Illumination, trying
to unite the Masons, and he now went over the
same ground to extend the Eclectic System, and to get
the Lodges put under the direction of the Illuminati,
by their choice of the Master and Wardens. By this
the Order had an opportunity of noticing the conduct
of individuals; and when they had found out their
manner of thinking, and that they were fit for their
purpose, they never quitted them till they had gained
them over to their party. We have seen, that he was
by no means void of religious impressions, and we often
find him offended with the atheism of Spartacus.
Knigge was at the same time a man of the world, and
had kept good company. Weishaupt had passed his
life in the habits of a college: therefore he knew
Knigge's value, and communicated to him all his projects,
to be dressed up by him for the taste of society.
Philo was of a much more affectionate disposition,
with something of a devotional turn, and was shocked
at the hard indifference of Spartacus. After labouring
four years with great zeal, he was provoked with
the disingenuous tricks of Spartacus, and he broke off
all connection with the Society in 1784, and some time
after published a declaration of all that he had done in
it. This is a most excellent account of the plan and
principles of the Order, (at least as he conceived it,
for Spartacus had much deeper views,) and shows that
the aim of it was to abolish Christianity, and all the
state-governments in Europe, and to establish a great
republic. But it is full of romantic notions and enthusiastic
declamation, on the hackneyed topics of universal
citizenship, and liberty and equality. Spartacus
gave him line, and allowed him to work on, knowing
that he could discard him when he chose. I shall after
this give some extracts from Philo's letters, from which
the reader will see the vile behaviour of Spartacus, and
the nature of his ultimate views. In the mean time
we may proceed with the account of the principles of
the system.
Spartacus to Cato.
"Nothing would be more profitable to us than a
right history of mankind. Despotism has robbed
them of their liberty. How can the weak obtain
protection? Only by union; but this is rare. Nothing
can bring this about but hidden societies.
Hidden schools of wisdom are the means which will
one day free men from their bonds. These have in
all ages been the archives of nature, and of the
rights of men; and by them shall human nature be
raised from her fallen state. Princes and nations
shall vanish from the earth. The human race will
then become one family, and the world will be the
dwelling of rational men.
"Morality alone can do this. The Head of every
family will be what Abraham was, the patriarch, the
priest, and the unlettered lord of his family, and
Reason will be the code of laws to all mankind.
This," says Spartacus, "is our GREAT SECRET.
True, there may be some disturbance, but by and
by the unequal will become equal; and after the
storm all will be calm. Can the unhappy consequences
remain when the grounds of dissension are
removed? Rouse yourselves therefore, O men! assert
your rights; and then will Reason rule with unperceived
sway; and ALL SHALL BE HAPPY.[6]
"Morality will perform all this; and morality is
the fruit of Illumination; duties and rights are reciprocal.
Where Octavius has no right, Cato owes
him no duty. Illumination shews us our rights, and
Morality follows; that Morality which teaches us
to be of age, to be out of wardenship, to be full grown,
and to walk without the leading strings of priests and
princes."
"Jesus of Nazareth, the Grand Master of our Order,
appeared at a time when the world was in the
utmost disorder, and among a people who for ages
had groaned under the yoke of bondage. He taught
them the lessons of Reason. To be more effective,
he took in the aid of Religion—of opinions which
were current—and, in a very clever manner, he combined
his secret doctrines with the popular religion,
and with the customs which lay to his hand. In
these he wrapped up his lessons—he taught by parables.
Never did any prophet lead men so easily and
so securely along the road of liberty. He concealed
the precious meaning and consequences of his doctrines;
but fully disclosed them to a chosen few. He
speaks of a kingdom of the upright and faithful; his
Father's kingdom, whose children we also are. Let
us only take Liberty and Equality as the great aim
of his doctrines, and Morality as the way to attain it,
and every thing in the New Testament will be comprehensible;
and Jesus will appear as the Redeemer
of slaves. Man is fallen from the condition of Liberty
and Equality, the STATE OF PURE NATURE.
He is under subordination and civil bondage, arising
from the vices of man. This is the FALL, and
ORIGINAL SIN. The KINGDOM OF GRACE is that
restoration which may be brought about by Illumination
and a just Morality. This is the NEW BIRTH.
When man lives under government, he is fallen, his
worth is gone, and his nature tarnished. By subduing
our passions, or limiting their cravings, we may
recover a great deal of our original worth, and live
in a state of grace. This is the redemption of men—this
is accomplished by Morality; and when this
is spread over the world, we have THE KINGDOM
OF THE JUST.
"But, alas! the task of self-formation was too hard
for the subjects of the Roman empire, corrupted by
every species of profligacy. A chosen few received
the doctrines in secret, and they have been handed
down to us (but frequently almost buried under rubbish
of man's invention) by the Free Masons. These
three conditions of human society are expressed by
the rough, the split, and the polished stone. The
rough stone, and the one that is split, express our
condition under civil government; rough by every
fretting inequality of condition; and split, since we
are no longer one family; and are farther divided
by differences of government, rank property, and
religion; but when reunited in one family, we are
represented by the polished stone. G. is Grace;
the Flaming Star is the Torch of Reason. Those
who possess this knowledge are indeed ILLUMINATI.
Hiram is our fictitious Grand Master, slain for the
REDEMPTION OF SLAVES; the Nine Masters are
the Founders of the Order. Free Masonry is a
Royal Art, inasmuch as it teaches us to walk without
trammels, and to govern ourselves."
Reader, are you not curious to learn something of
this all-powerful morality, so operative on the heart of
the truly illuminated—of this disciplina arcani, entrusted
only to the chosen few, and handed down to Professor
Weishaupt, to Spartacus, and his associates, who have
cleared it of the rubbish heaped on it by the dim-sighted
Masons, and now beaming in its native lustre on
the minds of the Areopagitæ? The teachers of ordinary
Christianity have been labouring for almost 2000 years,
with the New Testament in their hands; many of
them with great address, and many, I believe, with
honest zeal. But alas! they cannot produce such wonderful
and certain effects, (for observe, that Weishaupt
repeatedly assures us that his means are certain,) probably
for want of this disciplina arcani, of whose efficacy
so much is said. Most fortunately, Spartacus has
given us a brilliant specimen of the ethics which illuminated
himself on a trying occasion, where an ordinary
Christian would have been much perplexed, or
would have taken a road widely different from that of
this illustrious apostle of light. And seeing that several
of the Areopagitæ co-operated in the transaction, and
that it was carefully concealed from the profane and
dim-sighted world, we can have no doubt but that it
was conducted according to the disciplina arcani of Illumination.
I shall give it in his own words.
Spartacus to Marius, September 1783.
"I am now in the most embarrassing situation; it
robs me of all rest, and makes me unfit for every
thing. I am in danger of losing at once my honour
and my reputation, by which I have long had such
influence. What think you?—my sister-in-law is
with child. I have sent her to Euriphon, and am
endeavouring to procure a marriage-licence from
Rome. How much depends on this uncertainty—and
there is not a moment to lose. Should I fail,
what is to be done? What a return do I make by
this to a person to whom I am so much obliged!"
(We shall see the probable meaning of this exclamation
by and by). "We have tried every method in
our power to destroy the child; and I hope she is
determined on every thing—even d——." (Can this
mean death?) "But alas! Euriphon is, I fear, too timid,"
(alas! poor woman, thou art now under
the disciplina arcani,) "and I see no other expedient.
Could I be but assured of the silence of Celsus, (a
physician at Ingolstadt,) he can relieve me, and he
promised me as much three years ago. Do speak to
him, if you think he will be staunch. I would not let
Cato" (his dearest friend, and his chief or only confident
in the scheme of Illumination) "know it yet,
because the affair in other respects requires his whole
friendship." (Cato had all the pretty receipts.)
"Could you but help me out of this distress, you
would give me life, honour, and peace, and strength
to work again in the great cause. If you cannot, be
assured I will venture on the most desperate stroke,"
(poor sister!) "for it is fixed.—I will not lose my honour.
I cannot conceive what devil has made me go
astray—me who have always been so careful on such occasions.
As yet all is quiet, and none know of it but
you and Euriphon. Were it but time to undertake
any thing—but alas! it is the fourth month. Those
damned priests too—for the action is so criminally
accounted by them, and scandalises the blood. This
makes the utmost efforts and the most desperate
measures absolutely necessary."
It will throw some light on this transaction if we read
a letter from Spartacus to Cato about this time.
"One thing more, my dearest friend—Would it be
agreeable to you to have me for a brother-in-law?
If this should be agreeable, and if it can be brought
about without prejudice to my honour, as I hope it
may, I am not without hopes that the connection
may take place. But in the mean time keep it a
secret, and only give me permission to enter into
correspondence on the subject with the good lady,
to whom I beg you will offer my respectful compliments,
and I will explain myself more fully to you
by word of mouth, and tell you my whole situation.
But I repeat it—the thing must be gone about with
address and caution. I would not for all the world
deceive a person who certainly has not deserved so
of me."
What interpretation can be put on this? Cato seems
to be brother to the poor woman—he was unwittingly
to furnish the drugs, and he was to be dealt with about
consenting to a marriage, which could not be altogether
agreeable to him, since it required a dispensation,
she being already the sister-in-law of Weishaupt, either
the sister of his former wife, or the widow of a deceased
brother. Or perhaps Spartacus really wishes to marry
Cato's sister, a different person from the poor woman
in the straw; and he conceals this adventure from his
trusty friend Cato, till he sees what becomes of it.
The child may perhaps be got rid of, and then Spartacus
is a free man. There is a letter to Cato, thanking
him for his friendship in the affair of the child—but
it gives no light. I meet with another account,
that the sister of Zwack threw herself from the top of
a tower, and beat out her brains. But it is not said
that it was an only sister; if it was, the probability is,
that Spartacus had paid his addresses to her, and succeeded,
and that the subsequent affair of his marriage
with his sister-in-law, or something worse, broke her
heart. This seems the best account of the matter.
For Hertel (Marius) writes to Zwack in November
1782: "Spartacus is this day gone home, but has left
his sister-in-law pregnant behind (this is from Bassus
Hoff). About the new year he hopes to be made
merry by a ——, who will be before all kings and
princes—a young Spartacus. The Pope also will
respect him, and legitimate him before the time."
Now, vulgar Christian, compare this with the former
declaration of Weishaupt, where he appeals
to the tenor of his former life, which had been
so severely scrutinised, without diminishing his high
reputation and great influence, and his ignorance and
abhorrence of all those things found in Cato's repositories.
You see this was a surprise—he had formerly
proceeded cautiously—"He is the best man," says
Spartacus, "who best conceals his faults."—He was
disappointed by Celsus, who had promised him his assistance
on such occasions three years ago, during all which
time he had been busy in "forming himself." How
far he has advanced, the reader may judge.
One is curious to know what became of the poor
woman: she was afterwards taken to the house of Baron
Bassus; but here the foolish woman, for want of
that courage which Illumination and the bright prospect
of eternal sleep should have produced, took fright
at the disciplini arcani, left the house, and in the hidden
society of a midwife and nurse brought forth a young
Spartacus, who now lives to thank his father for his
endeavours to murder him. A "damned priest," the
good Bishop of Freyfingen, knowing the cogent reasons,
procured the dispensation, and Spartacus was
obliged, like another dim-sighted mortal, to marry
her. The scandal was hushed, and would not have
been discovered had it not been for these private writings.
But Spartacus says "that when you think
him sunk to the bottom, he will spring up with
double vigour." In a subsequent work, called
Short Amendment of my Plan, he says, "If men were
not habituated to wicked manners, his letters would
be their own justification." He does not say that
he is without fault; "but they are faults of the understanding—not
of the heart. He had, first of all, to
form himself; and this is a work of time." In the
affair of his sister-in-law he admits the facts, and the
attempts to destroy the child; "but this is far from
proving any depravity of heart. In his condition,
his honour at stake, what else was left him to do?
His greatest enemies, the Jesuits, have taught that
in such a case it is lawful to make away with the
child," and he quotes authorities from their books.[7]
"In the introductory fault he has the example of the
best of men. The second was its natural consequence,
it was altogether involuntary, and, in the
eye of a philosophical judge" (I presume of the Gallic
School) "who does not square himself by the harsh
letters of a blood-thirsty lawgiver, he has but a very
trifling account to settle. He had become a public
teacher, and was greatly followed; this example
might have ruined many young men. The eyes of the
Order also were fixed on him. The edifice rested
on his credit; had he fallen, he could no longer have
been in a condition to treat the matters of virtue so as to
make a lasting impression. It was chiefly his anxiety
to support the credit of the Order which determined
him to take this step. It makes for him, but by no
means against him; and the persons who are most
in fault are the slavish inquisitors, who have published
the transaction, in order to make his character
more remarkable, and to hurt the Order through
his person; and they have not scrupled, for this hellish
purpose, to stir up a child against his father!!!"
I make no reflections on this very remarkable, and
highly useful story, but content myself with saying,
that this justification by Weishaupt (which I have been
careful to give in his own words) is the greatest instance
of effrontery and insult on the sentiments of mankind
that I have ever met with. We are all supposed as
completely corrupted as if we had lived under the full
blaze of Illumination.
In other places of this curious correspondence we
learn that Minos, and others of the Areopagitæ, wanted
to introduce Atheism at once, and not go hedging in
the manner they did; affirming it was easier to shew
at once that Atheism was friendly to society, than to
explain all their Masonic Christianity, which they were
afterwards to shew to be a bundle of lies. Indeed this
purpose, of not only abolishing Christianity, but all
positive religion whatever, was Weishaupt's favourite
scheme from the beginning. Before he canvassed for
his Order, in 1774, he published a fictitious antique,
which he called Sidonii Apollinarus Fragmenta, to prepare
(as he expressly says in another place) mens minds
for the doctrines of Reason, which contains all the detestable
doctrines of Robinet's book De la Nature. The
publication of the second part was stopped. Weishaupt
says in his Apology for the Illuminati, that before
1780 he had retracted his opinions about Materialism,
and about the inexpediency of Princes. But
this is false: Philo says expressly, that every thing remained
on its original footing in the whole practice
and dogmas of the Order when he quitted it in July
1784. All this was concealed, and even the abominable
Masonry, in the account of the Order which
Weishaupt published at Regensburg; and it required
the constant efforts of Philo to prevent bare or flat
Atheism from being uniformly taught in their degrees.
He had told the council that Zeno would not be under
a roof with a man who denied the immortality of the
soul. He complains of Minos's cramming irreligion
down their throats in every meeting, and says, that he
frightened many from entering the Order. "Truth,"
says Philo, "is a clever, but a modest girl, who must
be led by the hand like a gentlewoman, but not
kicked about like a whore." Spartacus complains
much of the squeamishness of Philo; yet Philo is not
a great deal behind him in irreligion. When deferring
to Cato the Christianity of the Priest-degree, as
he had manufactured it, he says, "It is all one whether
it be true or false, we must have it, that we
may tickle those who have a hankering for religion."
All the odds seems to be, that he was of a gentler disposition,
and had more deference even for the absurd
prejudices of others. In one of his angry letters to
Cato he says: "The vanity and self-conceit of Spartacus
would have got the better of all prudence, had
I not checked him, and prevailed on the Areopagitæ
but to defer the developement of the bold principles
till we had firmly secured the man. I even wished
to entice the candidate the more by giving him back
all his former bonds of secrecy, and leaving him at
liberty to walk out without fear; and I am certain
that they were, by this time, so engaged that we
should not have lost one man. But Spartacus had
composed an exhibition of his last principles, for a
discourse of reception, in which he painted his three
favourite mysterious degrees, which were to be conferred
by him alone, in colours which had fascinated
his own fancy. But they were the colours of
hell, and would have scared the most intrepid; and
because I represented the danger of this, and by
force obtained the omission of this picture, he became
my implacable enemy. I abhor treachery
and profligacy, and leave him to blow himself and
his Order into the air."
Accordingly this happened. It was this which terrified
one of the four professors, and made him impart
his doubts to the rest. Yet Spartacus seems to have
profited by the apprehensions of Philo; for in the last
reception, he, for the first time, exacts a bond from
the intrant, engaging himself for ever to the Order,
and swearing that he will never draw back. Thus admitted,
he becomes a sure card. The course of his
life is in the hands of the Order, and his thoughts on
a thousand dangerous points; his reports concerning
his neighbours and friends; in short, his honour and
his neck. The Deist, thus led on, has not far to go
before he becomes a Naturalist or Atheist; and then
the eternal sleep of death crowns all his humble hopes.
Before giving an account of the higher degrees, I
shall just extract from one letter more on a singular
subject.
Minos to Sebastian, 1782.
"The proposal of Hercules to establish a Minerval
school for girls is excellent, but requires much circumspection.
Philo and I have long conversed on
this subject. We cannot improve the world without
improving women, who have such a mighty influence
on the men. But how shall we get hold of
them? How will their relations, particularly their
mothers, immersed in prejudices, consent that others
shall influence their education? We must begin with
grown girls. Hercules proposes the wife of Ptolemy
Magus. I have no objection; and I have four
step-daughters, fine girls. The oldest in particular
is excellent. She is twenty-four, has read much, is
above all prejudices, and in religion she thinks as I do.
They have much acquaintance among the young ladies
their relations. (N. B. We don't know the rank
of Minos, but as he does not use the word Damen,
but Frauenzimmer, it is probable that it is not high.)
It may immediately be a very pretty Society, under
the management of Ptolemy's wife, but really under
his management. You must contrive pretty degrees,
and dresses, and ornaments, and elegant and
decent rituals. No man must be admitted. This
will make them become more keen, and they will
go much farther than if we were present, or than if
they thought that we knew of their proceedings.
Leave them to the scope of their own fancies, and
they will soon invent mysteries which will put us to
the blush, and create an enthusiasm which we can
never equal. They will be our great apostles. Reflect
on the respect, nay the awe and terror inspired
by the female mystics of antiquity. (Think of the
Daniads—think of the Theban Bacchantes.) Ptolemy's
wife must direct them, and she will be instructed
by Ptolemy, and my step daughters will consult
with me. We must always be at hand to prevent
the introduction of any improper question. We
must prepare themes for their discussion—thus we
shall confess them, and inspire them with our sentiments.
No man however must come near them.
This will fire their roving fancies, and we may expect
rare mysteries. But I am doubtful whether
this Association will be durable. Women are fickle
and impatient. Nothing will please them but hurrying
from degree to degree, through a heap of insignificant
ceremonies, which will soon lose their
novelty and influence. To rest seriously in one
rank, and to be still and silent when they have found
out that the whole is a cheat, (hear the words of an
experienced Mason,) is a task of which they are incapable.
They have not our motives to persevere
for years, allowing themselves to be led about, and
even then to hold their tongues when they find that
they have been deceived. Nay there is a risk that
they may take it into their heads to give things an
opposite turn, and then, by voluptuous allurements,
heightened by affected modesty and decency, which
give them an irresistible empire over the best men,
they may turn our Order upside down, and in their
turn will lead the new one."
Such is the information which may be got from the
private correspondence. It is needless to make more
extracts of every kind of vice and trick. I have taken
such as shew a little of the plan of the Order, as far
as the degree of Illuminatus Minor, and the vile purposes
which are concealed under all their specious declamation.
A very minute account is given of the
plan, the ritual, ceremonies, &c. and even the instructions
and discourses, in a book called the Achte Illuminat,
published at Edessa (Frankfurt) in 1787. Philo
says, "that this is quite accurate, but that he does
not know the author." I proceed to give an account
of their higher degrees, as they are to be seen
in the book called Neueste Arbeitung des Spartacus und
Philo. And the authenticity of the accounts is attested
by Grollman, a private gentleman of independent
fortune, who read them, signed and sealed by Spartacus
and the Areopagitæ.
The series of ranks and progress of the pupil were
arranged as follows:
| | { Preparation, |
| | { Novice, |
| Nursery, |
| | { Minerval, |
| | { Illumin. Minor. |
| |
| | | { | Apprentice, |
| | {Symbolic | { | Fellow Craft, |
| | | { | Master, |
| Masonry, |
| | | { | Illum. Major, Scotch Novice |
| | {Scotch | { |
| | | { | Illum. dirigens, Scotch Knight. |
| |
| | | { | Presbyter, Priest, |
| | {Lesser | { |
| | | { | Prince, Regent, |
| Mysteries, |
| | | { | Magus, |
| | {Greater | { |
| | | { | Rex. |
The reader must be almost sick of so much villany,
and would be disgusted with the minute detail, in which
the cant of the Order is ringing continually in his ears.
I shall therefore only give such a short extract as may
fix our notions of the object of the Order, and the morality
of the means employed for attaining it. We
need not go back to the lower degrees, and shall begin
with the Illuminatus dirigens, or Scotch
Knight.
After a short introduction, teaching us how the holy
secret Chapter of Scotch Knights is assembled, we have,
I. Fuller accounts and instructions relating to the whole.
II. Instructions for the lower classes of Masonry. III.
Instructions relating to Mason Lodges in general. IV.
Account of a reception into this degree, with the bond
which each subscribes before he can be admitted. V.
Concerning the Solemn Chapter for reception. VI.
Opening of the Chapter. VII. Ritual of Reception,
and the Oath. VIII. Shutting of the Chapter. IX.
Agapé, or Love-Feast. X. Ceremonies of the consecration
of the Chapter. Appendix A, Explanation of
the Symbols of Free Masonry. B, Catechism for the
Scotch Knight. C, Secret Cypher.
In No I. it is said that the "chief study of the
Scotch Knight is to work on all men in such a way
as is most insinuating. II. He must endeavour to
acquire the possession of considerable property. III.
In all Mason Lodges we must try secretly to get the
upper hand. The Masons do not know what Free-Masonry
is, their high objects, nor their highest
Superiors, and should be directed by those who will
lead them along the right road. In preparing a candidate
for the degree of Scotch Knighthood, we
must bring him into dilemmas by ensnaring questions.—We
must endeavour to get the disposal of the money
of the Lodges of the Free Masons, or at least
take care that it be applied to purposes favourable
to our Order—but this must be done in a way that
shall not be remarked. Above all, we must push
forward with all our skill, the plan of Eclectic Masonry,
and for this purpose follow up the circular
letter already sent to all the Lodges with every
thing that can increase their present embarrassment."
In the bond of No IV. the candidate binds himself to
"consider and treat the Illuminati as the Superiors of
Free Masonry, and endeavour in all the Mason
Lodges which he frequents, to have the Masonry of
the Illuminated, and particularly the Scotch Novitiate,
introduced into the Lodge." (This is not
very different from the Masonry of the Chevalier de
l'Aigle of the Rosaic Masonry, making the Master's
degree a sort of commemoration of the passion, but
without giving that character to Christianity which is
peculiar to Illuminatism.) Jesus Christ is represented
as the enemy of superstitious observances, and the assertor
of the Empire of Reason and of Brotherly love,
and his death and memory as dear to mankind. This
evidently paves the way for Weishaupt's Christianity.
The Scotch Knight also engages "to consider the
Superiors of the Order as the unknown Superiors of
Free Masonry, and to contribute all he can to their
gradual union." In the Oath, No VII. the candidate
says, "I will never more be a flatterer of the great,
I will never be a lowly servant of princes; but I will
strive with spirit, and with address, for virtue, wisdom,
and liberty. I will powerfully oppose superstition,
slander, and despotism; so that, like a true
son of the Order, I may serve the world. I will
never sacrifice the general good, and the happiness
of the world, to my private interest. I will boldly
defend my brother against slander, will follow out
the traces of the pure and true Religion pointed out
to me in my instructions, and in the doctrines of
Masonry; and will faithfully report to my Superiors
the progress I make therein."
When he gets the stroke which dubs him a Knight,
the Preses says to him, "Now prove thyself, by thy
ability, equal to Kings, and never from this time
forward bow thy knee to one who is, like thyself but
a man."
No IX. is an account of the Love-Feast.
1st, There is a Table Lodge, opened as usual, but
in virtue of the ancient Master-word. Then it is said,
"Let moderation, fortitude, morality, and genuine
love of the Brethren, with the overflowing of innocent
and careless mirth reign here." (This is almost
verbatim from Toland.)
2d, In the middle of a bye-table is a chalice, a pot
of wine, an empty plate, and a plate of unleavened
bread—All is covered with a green cloth.
3d, When the Table Lodge is ended, and the Prefect
sees no obstacle, he strikes on this bye-table the
stroke of Scotch Master, and his signal is repeated by
the Senior Warden. All are still and silent. The
Prefect lifts off the cloth.
4th, The Prefect asks, whether the Knights are in
the disposition to partake of the Love-Feast in earnest,
peace, and contentment. If none hesitates or offers to
retire, he takes the plate with the bread and says,
"J. of N. our Grand-Master, in the night in which
he was betrayed by his friends, persecuted for his
love for truth, imprisoned, and condemned to die,
assembled his trusty Brethren, to celebrate his last
Love-Feast—which is signified to us in many ways.
He took bread (taking it) and broke it (breaking
it) and blessed it, and gave it to his disciples, &c.—This
shall be the mark of our Holy Union, &c.
Let each of you examine his heart, whether love
reigns in it, and whether he, in full imitation of our
Grand-Master, is ready to lay down his life for his
Brethren.
"Thanks be to our Grand-Master, who has appointed
this feast as a memorial of his kindness, for
the uniting of the hearts of those who love him.—Go
in peace, and blessed be this new Association
which we have formed.—Blessed be ye who remain
loyal and strive for the good cause."
5th, The Prefect immediately closes the Chapter
with the usual ceremonies of the Loge de Table.
6th, It is to be observed, that no priest of the Order
must be present at this Love-Feast, and that even the
Brother Servitor quits the Lodge.
I must observe here, that Philo, the manufacturer
of this ritual, has done it very injudiciously; it has no
resemblance whatever to the Love-Feast of the primitive
Christians, and is merely a copy of a similar thing
in one of the steps of French Masonry. Philo's reading
in church-history was probably very scanty, or he
trusted that the candidates would not be very nice in
their examination of it, and he imagined that it would
do well enough, and "tickle such as had a religious
hankering." Spartacus disliked it exceedingly—it
did not accord with his serious conceptions, and he
justly calls it Jouer la Religion.
The discourse of reception is to be found also in the
secret correspondence (Nachtrag II. Abtheilung, p. 44.).
But it is needless to insert it here. I have given the
substance of this and of all the Cosmo-political declamations
already in the panegeric introduction to the
account of the process of education. And in Spartacus's
letter, and in Philo's, I have given an abstract of
the introduction to the explanation given in this degree
of the symbols of Free Masonry. With respect to the
explanation itself, it is as slovenly and wretched as can
be imagined, and shews that Spartacus trusted to much
more operative principles in the human heart for the
reception of his nonsense than the dictates of unbiassed
reason. None but promising subjects were admitted
thus far—such as would not boggle; and their principles
were already sufficiently apparent to assure him
that they would be contented with any thing that made
game of religion, and would be diverted by the seriousness
which a chance devotee might exhibit during
these silly caricatures of Christianity and Free Masonry.
But there is considerable address in the way that Spartacus
prepares his pupils for having all this mummery
shewn in its true colours, and overturned.
"Examine, read, think on these symbols. There
are many things which one cannot find out without
a guide, nor even learn without instruction. They
require study and zeal. Should you in any future
period think that you have conceived a clearer notion
of them, that you have found a paved road,
declare your discoveries to your Superiors; it is
thus that you improve your mind; they expect this
of you; they know the true path—but will not point
it out—enough if they assist you in every approach
to it, and warn you when you recede from it. They
have even put things in your way to try your powers
of leading yourself through the difficult track of discovery.
In this process the weak head finds only
child's play—the initiated finds objects of thought
which language cannot express, and the thinking
mind finds food for his faculties." By such forewarnings
as these Weishaupt leaves room for any deviation,
for any sentiment or opinion of the individual
that he may afterwards choose to encourage, and "to
whisper in their ear (as he expresses it) many things
which he did not find it prudent to insert in a printed
compend."
But all the principles and aim of Spartacus and of
his Order are most distinctly seen in the third or Mystery
Class. I proceed therefore to give some account
of it. By the Table it appears to have two degrees,
the Lesser and the Greater Mysteries, each of which
have two departments, one relating chiefly to Religion
and the other to Politics.
The Priest's degree contains, 1. an Introduction.
2. Further Accounts of the Reception into this degree.
3. What is called Instruction in the Third Chamber,
which the candidate must read over. 4. The Ritual
of Reception. 5. Instruction for the First Degree of
the Priest's Class, called Instructio in Scientificis. 6.
Account of the Consecration of a Dean, the Superior
of this Lower Order of Priests.
The Regent degree contains, 1. Directions to the
Provincial concerning the dispensation of this degree.
2. Ritual of Reception. 3. System of Direction for
the whole Order. 4. Instruction for the whole Regent
degree. 5. Instruction for the Prefects or Local Superiors.
6. Instruction for the Provincials.
The most remarkable thing in the Priest's degree
is the Instruction in the Third Chamber. It is to be
found in the private correspondence (Nachtrage Original
Schriften 1787, 2d. Abtheilung, page 44.). There
it has the title Discourse to the Illuminati Dirigentes, or
Scotch Knights. In the critical history, which is annexed
to the Neueste Arbeitung, there is an account
given of the reason for this denomination; and notice
is taken of some differences between the instructions
here contained and that discourse.
This instruction begins with sore complaints of the
low condition of the human race; and the causes are
deduced from religion and state-government. "Men
originally led a patriarchal life, in which every father
of a family was the sole lord of his house and
his property, while he himself possessed general freedom
and equality. But they suffered themselves to
be oppressed—gave themselves up to civil societies,
and formed states. Even by this they fell; and this
is the fall of man, by which they were thrust into
unspeakable misery. To get out of this state, to
be freed and born again, there is no other mean
than the use of pure Reason, by which a general
morality may be established, which will put man in
a condition to govern himself, regain his original
worth, and dispense with all political supports, and
particularly with rulers. This can be done in
no other way but by secret associations, which will
by degrees, and in silence, possess themselves of the
government of the States, and make use of those
means for this purpose, which the wicked use for attaining
their base ends. Princes and Priests are
in particular, and kal' exochen the wicked, whose
hands we must tie up by means of these associations,
if we cannot root them out altogether.
"Kings are parents. The paternal power ceases
with the incapacity of the child; and the father injures
his child, if he pretends to retain his right beyond
this period. When a nation comes of age,
their state of wardship is at an end."
Here follows a long declamation against patriotism,
as a narrow-minded principle when compared with
true Cosmo-politism. Nobles are represented as "a
race of men that serve not the nation but the Prince,
whom a hint from the Sovereign stirs up against the
nation, who are retained servants and ministers of
despotism, and the mean for oppressing national liberty.
Kings are accused of a tacit convention,
under the flattering appellation of the balance of
power, to keep nations in subjection.
"The means to regain Reason her rights—to raise
liberty from its ashes—to restore to man his original
rights—to produce the previous revolution in the
mind of man—to obtain an eternal victory over oppressors—and
to work the redemption of mankind,
are secret schools of wisdom. When the worthy
have strengthened their association by numbers, they
are secure, and then they begin to become powerful,
and terrible to the wicked, of whom many will,
for safety, amend themselves—many will come over
to our party, and we shall bind the hands of the rest,
and finally conquer them. Whoever spreads general
Illumination, augments mutual security; Illumination
and security make princes unnecessary;
Illumination performs this by creating an effective
Morality, and Morality makes a nation of full age
fit to govern itself; and since it is not impossible to
produce a just Morality, it is possible to regain freedom
for the world.
"We must therefore strengthen our band, and establish
a legion, which shall restore the rights of man,
original liberty and independence.
"Jesus Christ"—but I am sick of all this. The following
questions are put to the candidate:
1. "Are our civil conditions in the world the destinations
that seem to be the end of our nature, or the
purposes for which man was placed on this earth,
or are they not? Do states, civil obligations, popular
religion, fulfil the intentions of men who established
them? Do secret associations promote instruction
and true human happiness, or are they the
children of necessity, of the multifarious wants, of
unnatural conditions, or the inventions of vain and
cunning men?"
2. "What civil association, what science do you
think to the purpose, and what are not?"
3. "Has there ever been any other in the world, is
there no other more simple condition, and what do
you think of it?"
4. "Does it appear possible, after having gone
through all the nonentities of our civil constitutions,
to recover for once our first simplicity, and get
back to this honourable uniformity?"
5. "How can one begin this noble attempt; by
means of open support, by forcible revolution, or
by what other way?"
6. "Does Christianity give us any hint to this purpose?
Does it not recognise such a blessed condition
as once the lot of man, and as still recoverable?"
7. "But is this holy religion the religion that is
now professed by any sect on earth, or is it a better?"
8. "Can we learn this religion—can the world, as
it is, bear the light? Do you think that it would be
of service, before numerous obstacles are removed,
if we taught men this purified religion, sublime philosophy,
and the art of governing themselves? Or
would not this hurt, by rousing the interested passions
of men habituated to prejudices, who would oppose
this as wicked?"
9. "May it not be more advisable to do away these
corruptions by little and little, in silence, and for
this purpose to propagate these salutary and heart-consoling
doctrines in secret?"
10. "Do we not perceive traces of such a secret
doctrine in the ancient schools of philosophy, in the
doctrines and instructions of the Bible, which Christ,
the Redeemer and Deliverer of the human race,
gave to his trusty disciples?—Do you not observe
an education, proceeding by steps of this kind, handed
down to us from his time till the present?"
In the ceremonial of Reception, crowns and sceptres
are represented as tokens of human degradation. "The
plan of operation, by which our higher degrees act,
must work powerfully on the world, and must give
another turn to all our present constitutions."
Many other questions are put to the pupil during his
preparation, and his answers are given in writing.
Some of these rescripts are to be found in the secret
correspondence. Thus, "How far is the position true,
that all those means may be used for a good purpose
which the wicked have employed for a bad?" And
along with this question there is an injunction to take
counsel from the opinions and conduct of the learned and
worthy out of the society. In one of the answers, the example
of a great philosopher and Cosmopolite is adduced,
who betrayed a private correspondence entrusted to
him, for the service of freedom: the case was Doctor
Franklin's. In another, the power of the Order was
extended to the putting the individual to death; and
the reason given was, that "this power was allowed
to all Sovereignties, for the good of the State, and
therefore belonged to the Order, which was to govern
the world."——"N. B. We must acquire the
direction of education—of church-management—of
the professorial chair, and of the pulpit. We must
bring our opinions into fashion by every art—spread
them among the people by the help of young writers.
We must preach the warmest concern for humanity,
and make people indifferent to all other relations.
We must take care that our writers be well puffed,
and that the Reviewers do not depreciate them;
therefore we must endeavour by every mean to gain
over the Reviewers and Journalists; and we must
also try to gain the booksellers, who in time will see
that it is their interest to side with us."
I conclude this account of the degree of Presbyter
with remarking, that there were two copies of it employed
occasionally. In one of them all the most offensive
things in respect of church and state were left
out. The same thing was done in the degree of Chevalier
du Soleil of the French Masonry. I have seen
three different forms.
In the Regent degree, the proceedings and instructions
are conducted in the same manner. Here, it is
said, "We must as much as possible select for this degree
persons who are free, independent of all princes;
particularly such as have frequently declared themselves
discontented with the usual institutions, and
their wishes to see a better government established."
Catching questions are put to the candidate for this
degree; such as,
1. "Would the society be objectionable which
should (till the greater revolution of nature should
be ripe) put monarchs and rulers out of the condition
to do harm; which should in silence prevent
the abuse of power, by surrounding the great with
its members, and thus not only prevent their doing
mischief, but even make them do good?"
2. "Is not the objection unjust, That such a Society
may abuse its power? Do not our rulers frequently
abuse their power, though we are silent?
This power is not so secure as in the hands of our
Members, whom we train up with so much care,
and place about princes after mature deliberation
and choice. If any government can be harmless
which is erected by man, surely it must be ours,
which is founded on morality, foresight, talents, liberty,
and virtue," &c.
The candidate is presented for reception in the character
of a slave; and it is demanded of him what has
brought him into this most miserable of all conditions.
He answers—Society—the State—Submissiveness—False
Religion. A skeleton is pointed out to him, at
the feet of which are laid a Crown and a Sword. He
is asked, whether that is the skeleton of a King, a Nobleman,
or a Beggar? As he cannot decide, the President
of the meeting says to him, "the character of
being a Man is the only one that is of importance."
In a long declamation on the hackneyed topics, we
have here and there some thoughts which have not yet
come before us.
"We must allow the underlings to imagine, (but
without telling them the truth,) that we direct all
the Free Mason Lodges, and even all other Orders,
and that the greatest monarchs are under our guidance,
which indeed is here and there the case.
"There is no way of influencing men so powerfully
as by means of the women. These should therefore
be our chief study; we should insinuate ourselves
into their good opinion, give them hints of
emancipation from the tyranny of public opinion,
and of standing up for themselves; it will be an immense
relief to their enslaved minds to be freed from
any one bond of restraint, and it will fire them the
more, and cause them to work for us with zeal,
without knowing that they do so; for they will only
be indulging their own desire of personal admiration.
"We must win the common people in every corner.
This will be obtained chiefly by means of the
schools, and by open, hearty behaviour, show, condescension,
popularity, and toleration of their prejudices,
which we shall at leisure root out and dispel.
"If a writer publishes any thing that attracts notice,
and is in itself just, but does not accord with our
plan, we must endeavour to win him over, or decry
him.
"A chief object of our care must be to keep down
that slavish veneration for princes which so much
disgraces all nations. Even in the soi-disant free England,
the silly Monarch says, We are graciously
pleased, and the more simple people say, Amen. These
men, commonly very weak heads, are only the farther
corrupted by this servile flattery. But let us at
once give an example of our spirit by our behaviour
with Princes; we must avoid all familiarity—never
entrust ourselves to them—behave with precision,
but with civility, as to other men—speak of them
on an equal footing—this will in time teach them
that they are by nature men, if they have sense and
spirit, and that only by convention they are Lords.
We must assiduously collect anecdotes, and the honourable
and mean actions, both of the least and
the greatest; and when their names occur in any records
which are read in our meetings, let them
ever be accompanied by these marks of their real
worth.
"The great strength of our Order lies in its concealment;
let it never appear in any place in its own
name, but always covered by another name, and
another occupation. None is fitter than the three lower
degrees of Free Masonry; the public is accustomed to it;
expects little from it, and therefore takes little notice of it.
Next to this the form of a learned or literary society
is best suited to our purpose, and had Free Masonry
not existed, this cover would have been employed;
and it may be much more than a cover, it may be a
powerful engine in our hands. By establishing reading
societies, and subscription libraries, and taking these under
our direction, and supplying them through our labours, we
may turn the public mind which way we will.
"In like manner we must try to obtain an influence
in the military academies, (this may be of mighty
consequence,) the printing-houses, booksellers shops,
chapters, and in short in all offices which have any
effect, either in forming, or in managing, or even
in directing the mind of man: painting and engraving
are highly worth our care[8]."
"Could our Prefect" (observe it is to the Illuminati
Regentes he is speaking, whose officers are Prefecti)
"fill the judicatories of a state with our worthy members,
he does all that man can do for the Order. It
is better than to gain the Prince himself. Princes
should never get beyond the Scotch knighthood.
They either never prosecute any thing, or they twist
every thing to their own advantage.
"A Literary Society is the most proper form for
the introduction of our Order into any state where
we are yet strangers." (Mark this!)
"The power of the Order must surely be turned to
the advantage of its Members. All must be assisted.
They must be preferred to all persons otherwise of
equal merit. Money, services, honour, goods, and
blood, must be expended for the fully proved Brethren,
and the unfortunate must be relieved by the
funds of the Society."
As evidence that this was not only their instructions,
but also their assiduous practice, take the following report
from the overseer of Greece (Bavaria).
In Cato's hand-writing.
"The number (about 600) of Members relates to
Bavaria alone.
"In Munich there is a well-constituted meeting of
Illuminati Majores, a meeting of excellent Illuminati
Minores, a respectable Grand Lodge, and two Minerval
Assemblies. There is a Minerval Assembly
at Freyssing, at Landsberg, at Burghausen, at Strasburg,
at Ingolstadt, and at last at Regensburg[9].
"At Munich we have bought a house, and by clever
measures have brought things so far, that the
citizens take no notice of it, and even speak of us
with esteem. We can openly go to the house every
day, and carry on the business of the Lodge. This
is a great deal for this city. In the house is a good
museum of natural history, and apparatus for experiments:
also a library which daily increases. The
garden is well occupied by botanic specimens, and
the whole has the appearance of a society of zealous
naturalists.
"We get all the literary journals. We take care,
by well-timed pieces, to make the citizens and the
Princes a little more noticed for certain little slips.
We oppose the monks with all our might, and with
great success.
"The Lodge is constituted entirely according to our
system, and has broken off entirely from Berlin, and
we have nearly finished our transactions with the
Lodges of Poland, and shall have them under our
direction.
"By the activity of our Brethren, the Jesuits have
been kept out of all the professorial chairs at Ingolstadt,
and our friends prevail.
"The widow Duchess has set up her academy entirely
according to our plan, and we have all the
Professors in the Order. Five of them are excellent,
and the pupils will be prepared for us.
"We have got Pylades put at the head of the Fisc,
and he has the church-money at his disposal. By
properly using this money, we have been enabled
to put our brother ——'s household in good order;
which he had destroyed by going to the Jews. We
have supported more Brethren under similar misfortunes.
"Our Ghostly Brethren have been very fortunate
this last year, for we have procured for them several
good benefices, parishes, tutorships, &c.
"Through our means Arminius and Cortes have
gotten Professorships, and many of our younger
Brethren have obtained Bursaries by our help.
"We have been very successful against the Jesuits,
and brought things to such a bearing, that their revenues,
such as the Mission, the Golden Alms, the
Exercises, and the Conversion Box, are now under
the management of our friends. So are also their concerns
in the university and the German school foundations.
The application of all will be determined
presently, and we have six members and four friends
in the Court. This has cost our senate some nights
want of sleep.
"Two of our best youths have got journies from the
Court, and they will go to Vienna, where they will
do us great service.
"All the German Schools, and the Benevolent Society,
are at last under our direction.
"We have got several zealous members in the courts
of justice, and we are able to afford them pay, and
other good additions.
"Lately, we have got possession of the Bartholomew
Institution for young clergymen, having secured all
its supporters. Through this we shall be able to
supply Bavaria with fit priests.
"By a letter from Philo we learn, that one of the
highest dignities in the church was obtained for a
zealous Illuminatus, in opposition even to the authority
and right of the Bishop of Spire, who is represented
as a bigoted and tyrannical priest."
Such were the lesser mysteries of the Illuminati. But
there remain the higher mysteries. The system of these
has not been printed, and the degrees were conferred
only by Spartacus himself, from papers which he never
entrusted to any person. They were only read to the
candidate, but no copy was taken. The publisher of
the Neueste Arbeitung says that he has read them (so says
Grollman). He says, "that in the first degree of
Magus or Philosophus, the doctrines are the
same with those of Spinoza, where all is material,
God and the world are the same thing, and all religion
whatever is without foundation, and, the contrivance
of ambitious men." The second degree,
or Rex, teaches, "that every peasant, citizen, and
householder is a sovereign, as in the Patriarchal
state, and that nations must be brought back to that
state, by whatever means are conducible—peaceably,
if it can be done; but, if not, then by force—for
all subordination must vanish from the face of
the earth."
The author says further, that the German Union
was, to his certain knowledge, the work of the Illuminati.
The private correspondence that has been published
is by no means the whole of what was discovered at
Landshut and Bassus Hoss, and government got a great
deal of useful information, which was concealed, both
out of regard to the families of the persons concerned,
and also that the rest might not know the utmost extent
of the discovery, and be less on their guard. A
third collection was found under the foundation of the
house in which the Lodge Theodor vom guten Rath had
been held. But none of this has appeared. Enough
surely has been discovered to give the public a very
just idea of the designs of the Society and its connections.
Lodges were discovered, and are mentioned in the
private papers already published, in the following
places.
| Munich | Westphalia (several) |
| Ingolstadt | Heidelberg |
| Frankfort | Manheim |
| Echstadt | Strasburgh (5) |
| Hanover | Spire |
| Brunswick | Worms |
| Calbe | Dusseldorff |
| Magdeburgh | Cologne |
| Cassel | Bonn (4) |
| Osnabruck | Livonia (many) |
| Weimar | Courland (many) |
| Upper Saxony (several) | Frankendahl |
| Austria (14) | Alsace (many) |
| Vienna (4) | Deuxponts |
| Hesse (many) | Cousel |
| Buchenwerter | Treves (2) |
| Mompeliard | Aix-la-Chapelle (2) |
| Stutgard (3) | Bartschied |
| Carlsruhe | Hahrenberg |
| Anspach | Switzerland (many) |
| Neuwied (2) | Rome |
| Mentz (2) | Naples |
| Poland (many) | Ancona |
| Turin | Florence |
| England (8) | France |
| Scotland (2) | Holland (many) |
| Warsaw (2) | Dresden (4) |
| America (several.) | N. B. This was before 1786. |
I have picked up the names of the following members.
| Spartacus, | Weishaupt, Professor. |
| Philo, | Knigge, Freyherr, i. e. Gentleman. |
| Amelius, | Bode, F. H. |
| Bayard, | Busche, F. H. |
| Diomedes, | Constanza, Marq. |
| Cato, | Zwack, Lawyer. |
| | Torring, Count. |
| | Khreitmaier, Prince. |
| | Utschneider, Professor. |
| | Cossandey, Professor. |
| | Renner, Professor. |
| | Grunberger, Professor. |
| | Balderbusch, F. H. |
| | Lippert, Counsellor. |
| | Kundl, ditto. |
| | Bart, ditto. |
| | Leiberhauer, Priest. |
| | Kundler, Professor. |
| | Lowling, Professor. |
| | Vachency, Counsellor. |
| | Morausky, Count. |
| | Hoffstetter, Surveyor of Roads. |
| | Strobl, Bookseller. |
| Pythagoras, | Westenrieder, Professor. |
| | Babo, Professor. |
| | Baader, Professor. |
| | Burzes, Priest. |
| | Pfruntz, Priest. |
| Hannibal, | Bassus, Baron. |
| Brutus, | Savioli, Count. |
| Lucian, | Nicholai, Bookseller. |
| | Bahrdt, Clergyman. |
| Zoroaster, Confucius, | Baierhamer. |
| Hermes Trismegistus, | Socher, School Inspector. |
| | Dillis, Abbé. |
| Sulla, | Meggenhoff, Paymaster. |
| | Danzer, Canon. |
| | Braun, ditto. |
| | Fischer, Magistrate. |
| | Frauenberger, Baron. |
| | Kaltner, Lieutenant. |
| Pythagoras, (2d,) | Drexl, Librarian. |
| Marius, | Hertel, Canon. |
| | Dachsel. |
| | Dilling, Counsellor. |
| | Seefeld, Count. |
| | Gunsheim, ditto. |
| | Morgellan, ditto. |
| Saladin, | Ecker, ditto. |
| | Ow, Major. |
| | Werner, Counsellor. |
| Cornelius Scipio, | Berger, Counsellor. |
| | Wortz, Apothecary. |
| | Mauvillon, Colonel, |
| | Mirabeau, Count. |
| | Orleans, Duke. |
| | Hochinaer. |
| Tycho Brahe, | Gaspar, Merchant. |
| Thales, | Kapfinger. |
| Attila, | Sauer. |
| Ludovicus Bavarus, | Losi. |
| Shaftesbury, | Steger. |
| Coriolanus, | Tropponero, Zuschwartz. |
| Timon, | Michel. |
| Tamerlane, | Lange. |
| Livius, | Badorffer. |
| Cicero, | Pfest. |
| Ajax, | Massenhausen, Count. |
I have not been able to find who personated Minos,
Euriphon, Celsius, Mahomet, Hercules, Socrates,
Philippo Strozzi, Euclides, and some others who have
been uncommonly active in carrying forward the great
cause.
The chief publications for giving us regular accounts
of the whole, (besides the original writings,) are,
1. Grosse Absicht des Illuminaten Ordens.
2. —— Nachtrages (3.) an denselben.
3. Weishaupt's improved System.
4. System des Illum. Ordens aus dem Original-schriften gezogen.
I may now be permitted to make a few reflections
on the accounts already given of this Order, which has
so distinctly concentrated the casual and scattered efforts
of its prompters, the Chevaliers Bienfaisants, the
Philalethes, and Amis Reunis of France, and carried on
the system of enlightening and reforming the world.
The great aim professed by the Order is to make men
happy; and the means professed to be employed, as
the only and surely effective, is making them good; and
this is to be brought about by enlightening the mind, and
freeing it from the dominion of superstition and prejudices.
This purpose is effected by its producing a just and steady
morality. This done, and becoming universal, there
can be little doubt but that the peace of society will be
the consequence,—that government, subordination,
and all the disagreeable coercions of civil governments
will be unnecessary,—and that society may go on
peaceably in a state of perfect liberty and equality.
But surely it requires no angel from heaven to tell
us that if every man is virtuous, there will be no vice;
and that there will be peace on earth, and good-will
between man and man, whatever be the differences of
rank and fortune; so that Liberty and Equality seem
not to be the necessary consequences of this just Morality,
nor necessary requisites for this national happiness.
We may question, therefore, whether the Illumination
which makes this a necessary condition is a clear and
a pure light. It may be a false glare showing the object
only on one side, tinged with partial colours thrown
on it by neighbouring objects. We see so much wisdom
in the general plans of nature, that we are apt to
think that there is the same in what relates to the human
mind, and that the God of nature accomplishes
his plans in this as well as in other instances. We are
even disposed to think that human nature would suffer
by it. The rational nature of man is not contented
with meat and drink, and raiment, and shelter, but is
also pleased with exerting many powers and faculties,
and with gratifying many tastes, which could hardly
have existence in a society where all are equal. We
say that there can be no doubt but that the pleasure
arising from the contemplation of the works of art—the
pleasure of intellectual cultivation, the pleasure of
mere ornament, are rational, distinguish man from a
brute, and are so general, that there is hardly a mind
so rude as not to feel them. Of all these, and of all
the difficult sciences, all most rational, and in themselves
most innocent, and most delightful to a cultivated
mind, we should be deprived in a society where
all are equal. No individual could give employment
to the talents necessary for creating and improving these
ornamental comforts of life. We are absolutely certain
that, even in the most favourable situations on the
face of the earth, the most untainted virtue in every
breast could not raise man to that degree of cultivation
that is possessed by citizens very low in any of the states
of Europe; and in the situation of most countries we
are acquainted with, the state of man would be much
lower: for, at our very setting out, we must grant
that the liberty and equality here spoken of must be
complete; for there must not be such a thing as a farmer
and his cottager. This would be as unjust, as
much the cause of discontent, as the gentleman and
the farmer.
This scheme therefore seems contrary to the designs
of our Creator, who has every where placed us in those
situations of inequality that are here so much reprobated,
and has given us strong propensities by which we
relish those enjoyments. We also find that they may
be enjoyed in peace and innocence. And lastly, we imagine
that the villain, who, in the station of a professor,
would plunder a prince, would also plunder the farmer if
he were his cottager. The Illumination therefore that
appears to have the best chance of making mankind happy
is that which will teach us the Morality which will respect
the comforts of cultivated Society, and teach us to
protect the possessors in the innocent enjoyment of them;
that will enable us to perceive and admire the taste and
elegance of Architecture and Gardening, without any
wish to sweep the palaces, the gardens, and their owner,
from off the earth, merely because he is their owner.
We are therefore suspicious of this Illumination,
and apt to ascribe this violent antipathy to Princes and
subordination to the very cause that makes true Illumination,
and just Morality proceeding from it, so necessary
to public happiness, namely, the vice and injustice
of those who cannot innocently have the command
of those offensive elegancies of human life. Luxurious
taste, keen desires, and unbridled passions, would
prompt to all this; and this Illumination is, as we see,
equivalent to them in effect. The aim of the Order
is not to enlighten the mind of man, and shew him his
moral obligations, and by the practice of his duties to
make society peaceable, possession secure, and coercion
unnecessary, so that all may be at rest and happy, even
though all were equal; but to get rid of the coercion
which must be employed in the place of Morality, that
the innocent rich may be robbed with impunity by the
idle and profligate poor. But to do this, an unjust casuistry
must be employed instead of a just Morality;
and this must be defended or suggested, by misrepresenting
the true state of man, and of his relation to the
universe, and by removing the restrictions of religion,
and giving a superlative value to all those constituents
of human enjoyment, which true Illumination shews
us to be but very small concerns of a rational and virtuous
mind. The more closely we examine the principles
and practice of the Illuminati, the more clearly
do we perceive that this is the case. Their first and
immediate aim is to get the possession of riches, power,
and influence, without industry; and to accomplish
this, they want to abolish Christianity; and then dissolute
manners and universal profligacy will procure
them the adherence of all the wicked, and enable them
to overturn all the civil governments of Europe; after
which they will think of farther conquests, and extend
their operations to the other quarters of the globe, till
they have reduced mankind to the state of one undistinguishable
chaotic mass.
But this is too chimerical to be thought their real
aim. Their Founder, I dare say, never entertained
such hopes, nor troubled himself with the fate of distant
lands. But it comes in his way when he puts on the
mask of humanity and benevolence: it must embrace
all mankind, only because it must be stronger than patriotism
and loyalty, which stand in his way. Observe
that Weishaupt took a name expressive of his principles.
Spartacus was a gladiator, who headed an insurrection
of Roman slaves, and for three years kept
the city in terror. Weishaupt says in one of his letters,
"I never was fond of empty titles; but surely
that man has a childish soul who would not as readily
chuse the name of Spartacus as that of Octavius
Augustus." The names which he gives to several
of his gang express their differences of sentiments.
Philo, Lucian, and others, are very significantly
given to Knigge, Nicholai, &c. He was vain
of the name Spartacus, because he considered himself
as employed somewhat in the same way, leading slaves
to freedom. Princes and Priests are mentioned by him
on all occasions in terms of abhorrence.
Spartacus employs powerful means. The style of
the Jesuits, (as he says,) he considers every mean as
consecrated by the end for which it is employed, and
he says with great truth,
"Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo."
To save his reputation, he scruples not to murder
his innocent child, and the woman whom he had held
in his arms with emotions of fondness and affection.
But lest this should appear too selfish a motive, he says,
"Had I fallen, my precious Order would have fallen
with me; the Order which is to bless mankind. I
should not again have been able to speak of virtue so
as to make any lasting impression. My example
might have ruined many young men." This he
thinks will excuse, nay sanctify any thing. "My
letters are my greatest vindication." He employs
the Christian Religion, which he thinks a falsehood,
and which he is afterwards to explode, as the mean for
inviting Christians of every denomination, and gradually
cajoling them, by clearing up their Christian doubts in
succession, till he lands them in Deism; or if he finds
them unfit, and too religious, he gives them a Sta bene,
and then laughs at the fears, or perhaps madness, in
which he leaves them. Having got them the length
of Deism, they are declared to be fit, and he receives
them into the higher mysteries. But lest they should
still shrink back, dazzled by the Pandemonian glare of
Illumination which will now burst upon them, he exacts
from them, for the first time, a bond of perseverance.
But, as Philo says, there is little chance of
tergiversation. The life and honour of most of the
candidates are by this time in his hand. They have
been long occupied in the vile and corrupting office of
spies on all around them, and they are found fit for
their present honours, because they have discharged
this office to his satisfaction, by the reports which they
have given in, containing stories of their neighbours,
nay even of their own gang. They may be ruined in
the world by disclosing these, either privately or publicly.
A man who had once brought himself into this
perilous situation durst not go back. He might have
been left indeed in any degree of Illumination; and, if
Religion has not been quite eradicated from his mind,
he must be in that condition of painful anxiety and
doubt that makes him desperate, fit for the full operation
of fanaticism, and he may be engaged, in the cause
of God, "to commit all kind of wickedness and greediness."
In this state of mind, a man shuts his eyes,
and rushes on. Had Spartacus supposed that he was
dealing with good men, his conduct would have been
the reverse of all this. There is no occasion for this
bond from a person convinced of the excellency of the
Order. But he knew them to be unprincipled, and
that the higher mysteries were so daring, that even some
of such men would start at them. But they must not
blab.
Having thus got rid of Religion, Spartacus could
with more safety bring into view the great aim of all his
efforts—to rule the world by means of his Order. As
the immediate mean for attaining this, he holds out
the prospect of freedom from civil subordination. Perfect
Liberty and Equality are interwoven with every
thing; and the flattering thought is continually kept
up, that "by the wise contrivance of this Order, the
most complete knowledge is obtained of the real
worth of every person; the Order will, for its own
sake, and therefore certainly, place every man in
that situation in which he can be most effective. The
pupils are convinced that the Order will rule the
world. Every member therefore becomes a ruler."
We all think ourselves qualified to rule. The difficult
task is to obey with propriety; but we are honestly
generous in our prospects of future command. It is
therefore an alluring thought, both to good and bad
men. By this lure the Order will spread. If they are
active in insinuating their members into offices, and
in keeping out others, (which the private correspondence
shews to have been the case,) they may have had
frequent experience of their success in gaining an influence
on the world. This must whet their zeal. If
Weishaupt was a sincere Cosmo-polite, he had
the pleasure of seeing "his work prospering in his
hands."
It surely needs little argument now to prove, that
the Order of Illuminati had for its immediate object
the abolishing of Christianity, (at least this was the intention
of the Founder,) with the sole view of overturning
the civil government, by introducing universal
dissoluteness and profligacy of manners, and then getting
the assistance of the corrupted subjects to overset the
throne. The whole conduct in the preparation and
instruction of the Presbyter and Regens is directed to
this point. Philo says, "I have been at unwearied
pains to remove the fears of some who imagine that
our Superiors want to abolish Christianity; but by
and by their prejudices will wear off, and they will
be more at their ease. Were I to let them know
that our General holds all Religion to be a lie, and
uses even Deism, only to lead men by the nose—Were
I to connect myself again with the Free Masons,
and tell them our designs to ruin their Fraternity
by this circular letter (a letter to the Lodge
in Courland)—Were I but to give the least hint to
any of the Princes of Greece (Bavaria)—No, my
anger shall not carry me so far.—An Order, forsooth,
which in this manner abuses human nature—which
will subject men to a bondage more intolerable than
Jesuitism—I could put it on a respectable footing,
and the world would be ours. Should I mention
our fundamental principles, (even after all the pains
I have been at to mitigate them,) so unquestionably
dangerous to the world, who would remain? What
signifies the innocent ceremonies of the Priest's degree,
as I have composed it, in comparison with
your maxim, that we may use for a good end those
means which the wicked employ for a base purpose?"
Brutus writes, "Numenius now acquiesces in the
mortality of the soul; but, I fear we shall lose Ludovicus
Bavarus. He told Spartacus, that he was
mistaken when he thought that he had swallowed
his stupid Masonry. No, he saw the trick, and did
not admire the end that required it. I don't know
what to do; a Sta bene would make him mad, and
he will blow us all up.
"The Order must possess the power of life and
death in consequence of our Oath; and with propriety,
for the same reason, and by the same right,
that any government in the world possesses it: for
the Order comes in their place, making them unnecessary.
When things cannot be otherwise, and
ruin would ensue if the Association did not employ
this mean, the Order must, as well as public rulers,
employ it for the good of mankind; therefore for
its own preservation." (N. B. Observe here the
casuistry.) "Nor will the political constitutions suffer
by this, for there are always thousands equally
ready and able to supply the place."
We need not wonder that Diomedes told the Professors,
"that death, inevitable death, from which no
potentate could protect them, awaited every traitor
of the Order;" nor that the French Convention
proposed to take off the German Princes and Generals
by sword or poison, &c.
Spartacus might tickle the fancy of his Order with
the notion of ruling the world; but I imagine that his
own immediate object was ruling the Order. The
happiness of mankind was, like Weishaupt's Christianity,
a mere tool, a tool which the Regentes made a
joke of. But Spartacus would rule the Regentes; this
he could not so easily accomplish. His despotism was
insupportable to most of them, and finally brought all
to light. When he could not persuade them by his
own firmness, and indeed by his superior talents and
disinterestedness in other respects, and his unwearied activity,
he employed jesuitical tricks, causing them to
fall out with each other, setting them as spies on each
other, and separating any two that he saw attached to
each other, by making the one a Master of the other;
and, in short, he left nothing undone that could secure
his uncontrolled command. This caused Philo to quit
the Order, and made Bassus, Ton Torring, Kreitmaier,
and several other gentlemen, cease attending the meetings;
and it was their mutual dissensions which made
them speak too freely in public, and call on themselves
so much notice. At the time of the discovery,
the party of Weishaupt consisted chiefly of very mean
people, devoted to him, and willing to execute his
orders, that by being his servants, they might have
the pleasure of commanding others.
The objects, the undoubted objects of this Association,
are surely dangerous and detestable; namely,
to overturn the present constitutions of the European
States, in order to introduce a chimera which the
history of mankind shews to be contrary to the nature
of man.
Naturam expellas furcâ, tamen usque recurret.
Suppose it possible, and done in peace, the new system
could not stand unless every principle of activity in the
human mind be enthralled, all incitement to exertion
and industry removed, and man brought into a condition
incapable of improvement; and this at the expence
of every thing that is valued by the best of men—by
misery and devastation—by loosening all the
bands of society. To talk of morality and virtue in
conjunction with such schemes is an insult to common
sense; dissoluteness of manners alone can bring men to
think of it.
Is it not astonishing, therefore, to hear people in
this country express any regard for this institution? Is
it not most mortifying to think that there are Lodges
of Illuminated among us? I think that nothing bids
fairer for weaning our inconsiderate countrymen from
having any connection with them, than the faithful account
here given. I hope that there are few, very
few of our countrymen, and none whom we call friend,
who can think that an Order which held such doctrines,
and which practised such things, can be any thing else
than a ruinous Association, a gang of profligates. All
their professions of the love of mankind are vain; their
Illumination must be a bewildering blaze, and totally
ineffectual for its purpose, for it has had no such influence
on the leaders of the band; yet it seems quite
adequate to the effects it has produced; for such are
the characters of those who forget God.
If we in the next place attend to their mode of education,
and examine it by those rules of common sense
that we apply in other cases of conduct, we shall find
it equally unpromising. The system of Illuminatism
is one of the explanations of Free Masonry; and it has
gained many partisans. These explanations rest their
credit and their preference on their own merits. There
is something in themselves, or in one of them as distinguished
from another, which procures it the preference
for its own sake. Therefore, to give this Order
any dependence on Free Masonry is to degrade the
Order. To introduce a Masonic Ritual into a manly
institution, is to degrade it to a frivolous amusement
for great children. Men really exerting themselves to
reform the world, and qualified for the task, must have
been disgusted with such occupations. They betray a
frivolous conception of the task in which they are really
engaged. To imagine that men engaged in the
struggle and rivalship of life, under the influence of
selfish, or mean, or impetuous passions, are to be
wheedled into candid sentiments, or a generous conduct,
as a froward child may sometimes be made gentle
and tractable by a rattle or humming-top, betrays
a great ignorance of human nature, and an arrogant
self-conceit in those who can imagine that all but
themselves are babies. The further we proceed, the
more do we see of this want of wisdom. The whole
procedure of their instruction supposes such a complete
surrender of freedom of thought, of common sense,
and of common caution, that it seems impossible that
it should not have alarmed every sensible mind. This
indeed happened before the Order was seven years old.
It was wise indeed to keep their Areopagitæ out of
sight; but who can be so silly as to believe that their
unknown Superiors were all and always faultless men?
But had they been the men they were represented to
be,—If I have any knowledge of my own heart, or any
capacity of drawing just inferences from the conduct
of others, I am persuaded that the knowing his Superiors
would have animated the pupil to exertion, that
he might exhibit a pleasing spectacle to such intelligent
and worthy judges. Did not the Stoics profess themselves
to be encouraged in the scheme of life, by the
thought that the immortal Gods were looking on and
passing their judgments on their manner of acting the
part assigned them? But what abject spirit will be contented
with working, zealously working, for years,
after a plan of which he is never to learn the full meaning?
In short, the only knowledge that he can perceive
is knowledge in its worst form, Cunning. This
must appear in the contrivances by which he will soon
find that he is kept in complete subjection. If he is a
true and zealous Brother, he has put himself in the
power of his Superiors by his rescripts, which they
required of him on pretence of their learning his own
character, and of his learning how to know the characters
of other men. In these rescripts they have got
his thoughts on many delicate points, and on the conduct
of others. His Directors may ruin him by betraying
him; and this without being seen in it. I
should think that wise men would know that none but
weak or bad men would subject themselves to such a
task. They exclude the good, the manly, the only
fit persons for assisting them in their endeavours to inform
and to rule the world. Indeed I may say that
this exclusion is almost made already by connecting
the Order with Free Masonry. Lodges are not the
resorts of such men. They may sometimes be found
there for an hour's relaxation. But these places are
the haunts of the young, the thoughtless, the idle, the
weak, the vain, or of designing Literati; and accordingly
this is the condition of three-fourths of the Illuminati
whose names are known to the public. I own
that the reasons given to the pupil for prescribing these
tasks are artful, and well adapted to produce their effect.
During the flurry of reception, and the glow of
expectation, the danger may not be suspected; but I
hardly imagine that it will remain unperceived when
the pupil sits down to write his first lesson. Mason
Lodges, however, were the most likely places for
finding and enlisting members. Young men, warmed
by declamations teeming with the flimsy moral cant of
Cosmo-politism, are in the proper frame of mind for
this Illumination. It now appears also, that the dissensions
in Free Masonry must have had great influence
in promoting this scheme of Weishaupt's, which was,
in many particulars, so unpromising, because it pre-supposes
such a degradation of the mind. But when
the schismatics in Masonry disputed with warmth, trifles
came to acquire unspeakable importance. The
hankering after wonder was not in the least abated by
all the tricks which had been detected, and the impossibility
of the wished-for discovery had never been demonstrated
to persons prepossessed in its favour. They
still chose to believe that the symbols contained some
important secret; and happy will be the man who
finds it out. The more frivolous the symbols, the
more does the heart cling to the mystery; and, to a
mind in this anxious state, Weishaupt's proffer was
enticing. He laid before them a scheme which was
somewhat feasible, was magnificent, surpassing our
conceptions, but at the same time such as permitted
us to expatiate on the subject, and even to amplify it
at pleasure in our imaginations without absurdity. It
does not appear to me wonderful, therefore, that so
many were fascinated till they became at last regardless
of the absurdity and inconsistency of the means by
which this splendid object was to be attained. Hear
what Spartacus himself says of hidden mysteries. "Of
all the means I know to lead men, the most effectual
is a concealed mystery. The hankering of the
mind is irresistible; and if once a man has taken it
into his head that there is a mystery in a thing, it
is impossible to get it out, either by argument or
experience. And then, we can so change notions
by merely changing a word. What more contemptible
than fanaticism; but call it enthusiasm; then add
the little word noble, and you may lead him over
the world. Nor are we, in these bright days, a bit
better than our fathers, who found the pardon of
their sins mysteriously contained in a much greater
sin, viz. leaving their family, and going barefooted
to Rome."
Such being the employment, and such the disciples,
should we expect the fruits to be very precious? No.
The doctrines which were gradually unfolded were
such as suited those who continued in the Cursus Academicus.
Those who did not, because they did not like
them, got a Sta bene; they were not fit for advancement.
The numbers however were great; Spartacus
boasted of 600 in Bavaria alone in 1783. We don't
know many of them; few of those we know were in
the upper ranks of life; and I can see that it required
much wheedling, and many letters of long worded
German compliments from the proud Spartacus, to
win even a young Baron or a Graf just come of age.
Men in an easy situation in life could not brook the
employment of a spy, which is base, cowardly, and
corrupting, and has in all ages and countries degraded
the person who engages in it. Can the person be called
wise who thus enslaves himself? Such persons give
up the right of private judgment, and rely on their unknown
Superiors with the blindest and most abject confidence.
For their sakes, and to rivet still faster their own
fetters, they engage in the most corrupting of all employments—and
for what?—To learn something more
of an Order, of which every degree explodes the doctrine
of a former one. Would it have hurt the young
Illuminatus to have it explained to him all at once?
Would not this fire his mind—when he sees with the
same glance the great object, and the fitness of the
means for attaining it? Would not the exalted characters
of the Superiors, so much excelling himself in talents,
and virtue, and happiness, (otherwise the Order
is good for nothing,) warm his heart, and fill him
with emulation, since he sees in them, that what is so
strongly preached to him is an attainable thing? No,
no—it is all a trick; he must be kept like a child,
amused with rattles, and stars, and ribands—and all
the satisfaction he obtains is, like the Masons, the diversion
of seeing others running the same gauntlet.
Weishaupt acknowledges that the great influence of
the Order may be abused. Surely, in no way so easily
or so fatally as by corrupting or seductive lessons in the
beginning. The mistake or error of the pupil is undiscoverable
by himself, (according to the genuine
principles of Illumination,) for the pupil must believe
his Mentor to be infallible—with him alone he is connected—his
lessons only must he learn. Who can tell
him that he has gone wrong—or who can set him
right?
Here, therefore, there is confusion and deficiency.
There must be some standard to which appeal can be
made; but this is inaccessible to all within the pale of
the Order; it is therefore without this pale, and independent
of the Order—and it is attainable only by
abandoning the Order. The Quibus Licet, the
Primo, the Soli, can procure no light to the person
who does not know that he has been led out of the
right road to virtue and happiness. The Superiors
indeed draw much useful information from these reports,
though they affect to stand in no need of it, and
they make a cruel return.
All this is so much out of the natural road of instruction,
that, on this account alone, we may presume
that it is wrong. We are generally safe when we follow
nature's plans. A child learns in his father's
house, by seeing, and by imitating, and in common
domestic education, he gets much useful knowledge,
and the chief habits which are afterwards to regulate
his conduct. Example does almost every thing; and,
with respect to what may be called living, as distinguishable
from profession, speculation and argumentative
instruction are seldom employed, or of any use.
The indispensableness of mutual forbearance and obedience,
for domestic peace and happiness, forms most
of these habits; and the child, under good parents, is
kept in a situation that makes virtue easier than vice,
and he becomes wise and good without any express
study about the matter.
But this Illumination plan is darkness over all—it is
too artificial—and the topics, from which counsel is to
be drawn, cannot be taken from the peculiar views of
the Order—for these are yet a secret for the pupil—and
must ever be a secret for him while under tuition.
They must therefore be drawn from common sources,
and the Order is of no use; all that can naturally be
effectuated by this Association is the forming, and assiduously
fostering a narrow, Jewish, corporation spirit,
totally opposite to the benevolent pretensions of the
Order. The pupil can see nothing but this, that there
is a set of men, whom he does not know, who may
acquire incontroulable power, and may perhaps make
use of him, but for what purpose, and in what way,
he does not know; how can he know that his endeavours
are to make man happier, any other way than as
he might have known it without having put this collar
round his own neck?
These reflections address themselves to all men who
profess to conduct themselves by the principles and dictates
of common sense and prudence, and who have the
ordinary share of candour and good-will to others. It
requires no singular sensibility of heart, nor great generosity,
to make such people think the doctrines and
views of the Illuminati false, absurd, foolish, and ruinous.
But I hope that I address them to thousands of
my countrymen and friends, who have much higher
notions of human nature, and who cherish with care
the affections and the hopes that are suited to a rational,
a benevolent, and a high-minded being, capable of
endless improvement.
To those who enjoy the cheering confidence in the
superintendance and providence of God, who consider
themselves as creatures whom he has made, and whom
he cares for, as the subjects of his moral government,
this Order must appear with every character of falsehood
and absurdity on its countenance. What CAN
BE MORE IMPROBABLE than this, that He, whom we
look up to as the contriver, the maker, and director of
this goodly frame of things, should have so far mistaken
his own plans, that this world of rational creatures
should have subsisted for thousands of years, before a
way could be found out, by which his intention of making
men good and happy could be accomplished; and
that this method did not occur to the great Artist himself,
nor even to the wisest, and happiest, and best men
upon earth; but to a few insignificant persons at Munich
in Bavaria, who had been trying to raise ghosts, to
change lead into gold, to tell fortunes, or discover treasures,
but had failed in all their attempts; men who
had been engaged for years in every whim which characterises
a weak, a greedy, or a gloomy mind? Finding
all these beyond their reach, they combined their
powers, and, at once, found out this infinitely more
important SECRET—for secret it must still be, otherwise
not only the Deity, but even these philosophers,
will still be disappointed.
Yet this is the doctrine that must be swallowed by
the Minervals and the Illuminati Minores, to whom it
is not yet safe to disclose the grand secret, that there is
no such superintendance of Deity. At last, however, when
the pupil has conceived such exalted notions of the
knowledge of his teachers, and such low notions of
the blundering projector of this world, it may be no
difficult matter to persuade him that all his former notions
were only old wives tales. By this time he must
have heard much about superstition, and how men's
minds have been dazzled by this splendid picture of a
Providence and a moral government of the universe.
It now appears incompatible with the great object of
the Order, the principles of universal liberty and equality—it
is therefore rejected without farther examination,
for this reason alone. This was precisely the argument
used in France for rejecting revealed religion.
It was incompatible with their Rights of Man.
It is richly worth observing how this principle can
warp the judgment, and give quite another appearance
to the same object. The reader will not be displeased
with a most remarkable instance of it, which I beg
leave to give at length.
Our immortal Newton, whom the philosophers of
Europe look up to as the honour of our species, whom
even Mr. Bailly, the President of the National Assembly
of France, and Mayor of Paris, cannot find words
sufficiently energetic to praise; this patient, sagacious,
and successful observer of nature, after having exhibited
to the wondering world the characteristic property
of that principle of material nature by which all the bodies
of the solar system are made to form a connected
and permanent universe; and after having shown that
this law of action alone was adapted to this end, and
that if gravity had deviated but one thousandth part
from the inverse duplicate ratio of the distances, the
system must, in the course of a very few revolutions,
have gone into confusion and ruin—he sits down, and
views the goodly scene,—and then closes his Principles
of Natural Philosophy with this reflection (his Scholium
generale):
"This most elegant frame of things could not have
arisen, unless by the contrivance and the direction of
a wise and powerful Being; and if the fixed stars are
the centres of systems, these systems must be similar;
and all these, constructed according to the same
plan, are subject to the government of one Being.
All these he governs, not as the soul of the world,
but as the Lord of all; therefore, on account of his
government, he is called the Lord God—Pantokrator;
for God is a relative term, and refers to subjects.
Deity is God's government, not of his own body, as
those think who consider him as the soul of the
world, but of his servants. The supreme God is a
Being eternal, infinite, absolutely perfect. But a being,
however perfect, without government, is not
God; for we say, my God, your God, the God of
Israel. We cannot say my eternal, my infinite. We
may have some notions indeed of his attributes, but
can have none of his nature. With respect to bodies,
we see only shapes and colour—hear only sounds—touch
only surfaces. These are attributes of bodies;
but of their essence we know nothing. As a blind
man can form no notion of colours, we can form
none of the manner in which God perceives, and
understands, and influences every thing.
"Therefore we know God only by his attributes.
What are these? The wise and excellent contrivance,
structure, and final aim of all things. In
these his perfections we admire him, and we wonder.
In his direction or government, we venerate and
worship him—we worship him as his servants; and
God, without dominion, without providence, and
final aims, is Fate—not the object either of reverence,
of hope, of love, or of fear."
But mark the emotions which affected the mind of
another excellent observer of Nature, the admirer
of Newton, and the person who has put the finishing
stroke to the Newtonian philosophy, by showing that
the acceleration of the moon's mean motion, is the
genuine result of a gravitation decreasing in the precise
duplicate ratio of the distance inversely; I mean Mr.
Delaplace, one of the most brilliant ornaments of the
French academy of sciences. He has lately published
the Systeme du Monde, a most beautiful compend of
astronomy and of the Newtonian philosophy. Having
finished his work with the same observation, "That a
gravitation inversely proportional to the squares of
the distances was the only principle which could
unite material Nature into a permanent system;"
he also sits down—surveys the scene—points out the
parts which he had brought within our ken—and then
makes this reflection: "Beheld in its totality, astronomy
is the noblest monument of the human mind,
its chief title to intelligence. But, seduced by the
illusions of sense, and by self-conceit, we have long
considered ourselves as the centre of these motions;
and our pride has been punished by the groundless
fears which we have created to ourselves. We
imagine, forsooth, that all this is for us, and that
the stars influence our destinies! But the labours of
ages have convinced us of our error, and we find
ourselves on an insignificant planet, almost imperceptible
in the immensity of space. But the sublime
discoveries we have made richly repay this
humble situation. Let us cherish these with care, as
the delight of thinking beings—they have destroyed
our mistakes as to our relation to the rest of the universe;
errors which were the more fatal, because
the social Order depends on justice and truth alone.
Far be from us the dangerous maxim, that it is sometimes
useful to depart from these, and to deceive
men, in order to insure their happiness; but cruel
experience has shewn us that these laws are never totally
extinct."
There can be no doubt as to the meaning of these last
words—they cannot relate to astrology—this was entirely
out of date. The "attempts to deceive men,
in order to insure their happiness," can only be
those by which we are made to think too highly of ourselves.
"Inhabitants of this pepper-corn, we think
ourselves the peculiar favourites of Heaven, nay the
chief objects of care to a Being, the Maker of all;
and then we imagine that, after this life, we are to
be happy or miserable, according as we accede or
not to this subjugation to opinions which enslave us.
But truth and justice have broken these bonds."—But
where is the force of the argument which entitles
this perfecter of the Newtonian philosophy to exult so
much? It all rests on this, That this earth is but as a
grain of mustard-seed. Man would be more worth attention
had he inhabited Jupiter or the Sun. Thus
may a Frenchman look down on the noble creatures
who inhabit Orolong or Pelew. But whence arises the
absurdity of the intellectual inhabitants of this pepper-corn
being a proper object of attention? it is because
our shallow comprehensions cannot, at the same glance,
see an extensive scene, and perceive its most minute
detail.
David, a King, and a soldier, had some notions of
this kind. The heavens, it is true, pointed out to
him a Maker and Ruler, which is more than they seem
to have done to the Gallic philosopher; but David was
afraid that he would be forgotten in the crowd, and
cries out, "Lord what is man that thou art mindful of
him?" But David gets rid of his fears, not by becoming
a philosopher, and discovering all this to be
absurd,—he would still be forgotten,—he at once thinks
of what he is—a noble creature—high in the scale of
nature. "But," says he, "I had forgotten myself.
Thou hast made man but a little lower than the angels—thou
hast crowned him with glory and honour—thou
hast put all things under his feet." Here
are exalted sentiments, fit for the creature whose ken
pierces through the immensity of the visible universe,
and who sees his relation to the universe, being nearly
allied to its Sovereign, and capable of rising continually
in his rank, by cultivating those talents which
distinguish and adorn it.
Thousands, I trust, there are, who think that this
life is but a preparation for another, in which the mind
of man will have the whole wonders of creation and of
providence laid open to its enraptured view—where
it will see and comprehend with one glance what Newton,
the most patient and successful of all the observers
of nature, took years of meditation to find out—where
it will attain that pitch of wisdom, goodness, and enjoyment,
of which our consciences tell us we are capable,
though it far surpasses that of the wisest, the
best, and the happiest of men. Such persons will consider
this Order as degrading and detestable, and as in
direct opposition to their most confident expectations:
For it pretends to what is impossible, to perfect peace
and happiness in this life. They believe, and they
feel, that man must be made perfect through sufferings,
which shall call into action powers of mind that otherwise
would never have unfolded themselves—powers
which are frequently sources of the purest and most
soothing pleasures, and naturally make us rest our eyes
and hopes on that state where every tear shall be wiped
away, and where the kind affections shall become the
never-failing sources of pure and unfading delight.
Such persons see the palpable absurdity of a preparation
which is equally necessary for all, and yet must be
confined to the minds of a few, who have the low and
indelicate appetite for frivolous play-things, and for
gross sensual pleasures. Such minds will turn away
from this boasted treat with loathing and abhorrence.
I am well aware that some of my readers may smile
at this, and think it an enthusiastical working up of
the imagination, similar to what I reprobate in the case
of Utopian happiness in a state of universal Liberty
and Equality. It is like, they will say, to the declamation
in a sermon by persons of the trade, who are
trained up to finesse, by which they allure and tickle
weak minds.
I acknowledge that in the present case I do not address
myself to the cold hearts, who contentedly
"Sink and slumber in their cells of clay;"
——Peace to all such;——but to the "felices animæ,
quibus hæc cognoscere cura;"—to those who have enjoyed
the pleasures of science, who have been successful—who
have made discoveries—who have really illuminated
the world—to the Bacons, the Newtons, the
Lockes.—Allow me to mention one, Daniel Bernoulli,
the most elegant mathematician, the only philosopher,
and the most worthy man, of that celebrated
family. He said to a gentleman, (Dr. Staehling,)
who repeated it to me, that "when reading some of
those wonderful guesses of Sir Isaac Newton, the
subsequent demonstration of which has been the
chief source of fame to his most celebrated commentators—his
mind has sometimes been so overpowered
by thrilling emotions, that he has wished that
moment to be his last; and that it was this which
gave him the clearest conception of the happiness
of heaven." If such delightful emotions could be
excited by the perception of mere truth, what must
they be when each of these truths is an instance of wisdom,
and when we recollect, that what we call wisdom
in the works of nature, is always the nice adaptation
of means for producing beneficent ends; and that each
of these affecting qualities is susceptible of degrees
which are boundless, and exceed our highest conceptions?
What can this complex emotion or feeling be
but rapture? But Bernoulli is a Doctor of Theology—and
therefore a suspicious person, perhaps one of the
combination hired by despots to enslave us. I will
take another man, a gentleman of rank and family, a
soldier, who often signalised himself as a naval commander—who
at one time forced his way through a
powerful fleet of the Venetians with a small squadron,
and brought relief to a distressed garrison. I would
desire the reader to peruse the conclusion of Sir Kenhelm
Digby's Treatises on Body and Mind; and after
having reflected on the state of science at the time this
author wrote, let him coolly weigh the incitements to
manly conduct which this soldier finds in the differences
observed between body and mind; and then let him
say, on his conscience, whether they are more feeble
than those which he can draw from the eternal sleep
of death. If he thinks that they are—he is in the proper
frame for initiation into Spartacus's higher mysteries.
He may be either Magus or Rex.
Were this a proper place for considering the question
as a question of science or truth, I would say, that
every man who has been a successful student of nature,
and who will rest his conclusions on the same maxims
of probable reasoning that have procured him success
in his past researches, will consider it as next to certain
that there is another state of existence for rational man.
For he must own, that if this be not the case, there is
a most singular exception to a proposition which the
whole course of his experience has made him consider
as a truth founded on universal induction, viz. that
nature accomplishes all her plans, and that every class of
beings attains all the improvement of which it is capable.
Let him but turn his thoughts inward, he will
feel that his intellect is capable of improvement, in
comparison with which Newton is but a child. I
could pursue this argument very far, and (I think)
warm the heart of every man whom I should wish to
call my friend.
What opinion will be formed of this Association by
the modest, the lowly-minded, the candid, who acknowledge
that they too often feel the superior force
of present and sensible pleasures, by which their minds
are drawn off from the contemplation of what their
consciences tell them to be right,—to be their dutiful
and filial sentiments and emotions respecting their great
and good Parent—to be their dutiful and neighbourly
affections, and their proper conduct to all around them—and
which diminish their veneration for that purity
of thought and moderation of appetite which becomes
their noble natures? What must they think of this Order?
Conscious of frequent faults, which would offend
themselves if committed by their dearest children,
they look up to their Maker with anxiety—are grieved
to have so far forgotten their duty, and fearful that
they may again forget it. Their painful experience
tells them that their reason is often too weak, their information
too scanty, or its light is obstructed by passion
and prejudices, which distort and discolour every
thing; or it is unheeded during their attention to present
objects. Happy should they be, if it should please
their kind Parent to remind them of their duty from
time to time, or to influence their mind in any way
that would compensate for their own ignorance, their
own weakness, or even their indolence and neglect.
They dare not expect such a favour, which their modesty
tells them they do not deserve, and which they
fear may be unfit to be granted; but when such a comfort
is held out to them, with eager hearts they receive
it—they bless the kindness that granted it, and
the hand that brings it.——Such amiable characters
have appeared in all ages, and in all situations of mankind.
They have not in all instances been wise—often
have they been precipitate, and have too readily caught
at any thing which pretended to give them the so much
wished-for assistances; and, unfortunately, there have
been enthusiasts, or villains, who have taken advantage
of this, universal wish of anxious man; and the
world has been darkened by cheats, who have misrepresented
God to mankind, have filled us with vain
terrors, and have then quieted our fears by fines, and
sacrifices, and mortifications, and services, which they
said were more than sufficient to expiate all our faults.
Thus was our duty to our neighbour, to our own dignity,
and to our Maker and Parent, kept out of sight,
and religion no longer came in aid to our sense of right
and wrong; but, on the contrary, by these superstitions
it opened the doors of heaven to the worthless
and the wicked.—But I wish not to speak of these
men, but of the good, the candid, the MODEST, the
HUMBLE, who know their failings, who love their duties,
but wish to know, to perceive, and to love them
still more. These are they who think and believe that
"the Gospel has brought life and immortality to
light," that is, within their reach. They think it
worthy of the Father of mankind, and they receive it
with thankful hearts, admiring above all things the
simplicity of its morality, comprehended in one sentence,
"Do to another what you can reasonably wish
that another should do to you," and THAT PURITY
OF THOUGHT AND MANNERS WHICH DISTINGUISHES
IT FROM ALL THE SYSTEMS OF MORAL INSTRUCTION
THAT HAVE EVER BEEN OFFERED TO MEN. Here
they find a ground of resignation under the troubles of
life, and a support in the hour of death, quite suited
to the diffidence or their own character. Such men
are ready to grant that the Stoics were persons of noble
and exalted minds, and that they had worthy conceptions
of the rank of man in the scale of God's
works; but they confess that they themselves do not
feel all that support from Stoical principles which man
too frequently needs; and they say that they are not
singular in their opinions, but that the bulk of mankind
are prevented, by their want of heroic fortitude,
by their situation, or their want of the opportunities of
cultivating their native strength of mind, from ever
attaining this hearty submission to the will of the Deity.
They maintain, that the Stoics were but a few, a very
few, from among many millions—and therefore their
being satisfied was but a trifle amidst the general discontent,
and anxiety, and despair.—Such men will
most certainly start back from this Illumination with
horror and fright—from a Society which gives the lie
to their fondest expectations, makes a sport of their
grounds of hope, and of their deliverer; and which,
after laughing at their credulity, bids them shake off
all religion whatever, and denies the existence of that
Supreme Mind, the pattern of all excellence, who till
now had filled their thoughts with admiration and love—from
an Order which pretends to free them from
spiritual bondage, and then lays on their necks a load
ten times more oppressive and intolerable, from which
they have no power of ever escaping. Men of sense
and virtue will spurn at such a proposal; and even the
profligate, who trade with Deity, must be sensible that
they will be better off with their priests, whom they
know, and among whom they may make a selection of
such as will with patience and gentleness clear up their
doubts, calm their fears, and encourage their hopes.
And all good men, all lovers of peace and of justice,
will abhor and reject the thought of overturning the
present constitution of things, faulty as it may be,
merely in the endeavour to establish another, which
the vices of mankind may subvert again in a twelvemonth.
They must see, that in order to gain their
point, the proposers have found it necessary to destroy
the grounds of morality, by permitting the most wicked
means for accomplishing any end that our fancy,
warped by passion or interest, may represent to us as
of great importance. They see, that instead of morality,
vice must prevail, and that therefore there is no
security for the continuance of this Utopian felicity;
and, in the mean time, desolation and misery must lay
the world waste during the struggle, and half of those
for whom we are striving will be swept from the face
of the earth. We have but to look to France, where
in eight years there have been more executions and
spoliations and distresses of every kind by the pouvoir
revolutionnaire, than can be found in the long records
of that despotic monarchy.
There is nothing in the whole constitution of the
Illuminati that strikes me with more horror than the
proposals of Hercules and Minos to enlist the women
in this shocking warfare with all that "is good, and
pure, and lovely, and of good report." They could
not have fallen on any expedient that will be more effectual
and fatal. If any of my countrywomen shall
honour these pages with a reading, I would call on
them, in the most earnest manner, to consider this as
an affair of the utmost importance to themselves. I
would conjure them by the regard they have for their
own dignity, and for their rank in society, to join
against these enemies of human nature and profligate
degraders of the sex; and I would assure them that
the present state of things almost puts it in their power
to be the saviours of the world. But if they are remiss,
and yield to the seduction, they will fall from that high
state to which they have arisen in Christian Europe,
and again sink into that insignificancy or slavery in
which the sex is found in all ages and countries out of
the hearing of Christianity.
I hope that my countrywomen will consider this solemn
address to them as a proof of the high esteem in
which I hold them. They will not be offended then
if, in this season of alarm and anxiety, when I wish to
impress their minds with a serious truth, I shall wave
ceremony, which is always designing, and speak of
them in honest but decent plainness.
Man is immersed in luxury. Our accommodations
are now so numerous that every thing is pleasure. Even
in very sober situations in this highly-cultivated Society,
there is hardly a thing that remains in the form
of a necessary of life, or even of a mere conveniency—every
thing is ornamented—it must not appear of use—it
must appear as giving some sensible pleasure. I
do not say this by way of blaming—it is nature—man
is a refining creature, and our most boasted acquirements
are but refinements on our necessary wants. Our
hut becomes a palace, our blanket a fine dress, and
our arts become sciences. This discontent with the
natural condition of things, and this disposition to refinement,
is a characteristic of our species, and is the
great employment of our lives. The direction which
this propensity chances to take in any age or nation,
marks its character in the most conspicuous and interesting
manner. All have it in some degree, and it is
very conceivable that, in some, it may constitute the
chief object of attention. If this be the case in any nations,
it is surely most likely to be so in those where
the accommodations of life are the most numerous—therefore
in a rich and luxurious nation. I may surely,
without exaggeration or reproach, give that appellation
to our own nation at this moment. If you do not
go to the very lowest class of people, who must labour
all day, is it not the chief object of all to procure perceptible
pleasure in one way or another? The sober and
busy struggle in the thoughts and hopes of getting the
means of enjoying the comforts of life without farther
labour—and many have no other object than pleasure.
Then let us reflect that it is woman that is to grace
the whole.—It is in nature, it is the very constitution of
man, that woman, and every thing connected with
woman, must appear as the ornament of life. That
this mixes with every other social sentiment, appears
from the conduct of our species in all ages and in every
situation. This I presume would be the case even
though there were no qualities in the sex to justify it.
This sentiment respecting the sex is necessary, in order
to rear so helpless, so nice, and so improveable a creature
as man; without it, the long abiding task could
not be performed:—and I think that I may venture
to say that it is performed in the different states of society
nearly in proportion as this preparatory and indispensable
sentiment is in force.
On the other hand, I think it no less evident that it
is the desire of the women to be agreeable to the men,
and that they will model themselves according to what
they think will please. Without this adjustment of
sentiments by nature, nothing would go on. We never
observe any such want of symmetry in the works
of God. If, therefore, those who take the lead, and
give the fashion in society, were wise and virtuous, I
have no doubt but that the women would set the
brightest pattern of every thing that is excellent. But
if the men are nice and fastidious sensualists, the women
will be refined and elegant voluptuaries.
There is no deficiency in the female mind, either in
talents or in dispositions; nor can we say with certainty
that there is any subject of intellectual or moral discussion
in which women have not excelled. If the delicacy
of their constitution, and other physical causes,
allow the female sex a smaller share of some mental
powers, they possess others in a superior degree, which
are no less respectable in their own nature, and of as
great importance to society. Instead of descanting at
large on their powers of mind, and supporting my assertions
by the instances of a Hypatia, a Schurman, a
Zenobia, an Elizabeth, &c. I may repeat the account
given of the sex by a person of uncommon experience,
who saw them without disguise, or any motive that
could lead them to play a feigned part—Mr. Ledyard,
who traversed the greatest part of the world, for the
mere indulgence of his taste for observation of human
nature; generally in want, and often in extreme misery.
"I have (says he) always remarked that women,
in all countries, are civil, obliging, tender, and humane:
that they are ever inclined to be gay and
cheerful, timorous and modest; and that they do
not hesitate, like men, to perform a kind or generous
action.—Not haughty, not arrogant, not supercilious,
they are full of courtesy, and fond of society—more
liable in general to err than man, but
in general, also, more virtuous, and performing
more good actions than he. To a woman, whether
civilized or savage, I never addressed myself in the
language of decency and friendship—without receiving
a decent and friendly answer—with man it has
often been otherwise.
"In wandering over the barren plains of inhospitable
Denmark, through honest Sweden, and
frozen Lapland, rude and churlish Finland, unprincipled
Russia, and the wide spread regions of the wandering
Tartar,—if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick,
the women have ever been friendly to me, and uniformly
so; and to add to this virtue, (so worthy of
the appellation of benevolence,) these actions have
been performed in so free and so kind a manner, that
if I was thirsty, I drank the sweetest draught, and
if hungry, I ate the coarse meal with a double
relish."
And these are they whom Weishaupt would corrupt!
One of these, whom he had embraced with
fondness, would he have murdered, to save his honour,
and qualify himself to preach virtue! But let us not be
too severe on Weishaupt—let us wash ourselves clear
of all stain before we think of reprobating him. Are
we not guilty in some degree, when we do not cultivate
in the women those powers of mind, and those
dispositions of heart, which would equally dignify them
in every station as in those humble ranks in which Mr.
Ledyard most frequently saw them? I cannot think
that we do this. They are not only to grace the whole
of cultivated society, but it is in their faithful and affectionate
personal attachment that we are to find the
sweetest pleasures that life can give. Yet in all these
situations where the manner in which they are treated
is not dictated by the stern laws of necessity, are they
not trained up for mere amusement—are not serious
occupations considered as a task which hurts their loveliness?
What is this but selfishness, or as if they had
no virtues worth cultivating? Their business is supposed
to be the ornamenting themselves, as if nature did not
dictate this to them already, with at least as much
force as is necessary. Every thing is prescribed to
them because it makes them more lovely—even their moral
lessons are enforced by this argument, and Miss Woolstoncraft
is perfectly right when she says that the fine
lessons given to young women by Fordyce or Rousseau
are nothing but selfish and refined voluptuousness. This
advocate of her sex puts her sisters in the proper point
of view, when she tells them that they are, like man,
the subjects of God's moral government,—like man,
preparing themselves for boundless improvement in a
better state of existence. Had she adhered to this view
of the matter, and kept it constantly in sight, her book
(which doubtless contains many excellent things, highly
deserving of their serious consideration) would have
been a most valuable work. She justly observes, that
the virtues of the sex are great and respectable, but
that in our mad chace of pleasure, only pleasure, they
are little thought of or attended to. Man trusts to his
own uncontroulable power, or to the general goodness
of the sex, that their virtues will appear when we have
occasion for them;—"but we will send for these some
other time:"—Many noble displays do they make
of the most difficult attainments. Such is the patient
bearing up under misfortunes, which has no brilliancy
to support it in the effort. This is more difficult than
braving danger in an active and conspicuous situation.
How often is a woman left with a family, and the shattered
remains of a fortune, lost perhaps by dissipation
or by indolence—and how seldom, how very seldom,
do we see woman shrink from the task, or discharge it
with negligence? Is it not therefore folly next to madness,
not to be careful of this our greatest blessing—of
things which so nearly concern our peace—nor guard
ourselves, and these our best companions and friends,
from the effects of this fatal Illumination? It has indeed
brought to light what dreadful lengths men will
go, when under the fanatical and dazzling glare of happiness
in a state of liberty and equality, and spurred on
by insatiable luxury, and not held in check by moral
feelings and the restraints of religion—and mark, reader,
that the women have here also taken the complexion of the
men, and have even gone beyond them. If we have seen a
son present himself to the National Assembly of France,
professing his satisfaction with the execution of his father
three days before, and declaring himself a true
citizen, who prefers the nation to all other considerations;
we have also seen, on the same day, wives denouncing
their husbands, and (O shocking to human
nature!) mothers denouncing their sons, as bad citizens
and traitors. Mark too what return the women
have met with for all their horrid services, where, to
express their sentiments of civism and abhorrence of
royalty, they threw away the character of their sex,
and bit the amputated limbs of their murdered countrymen[10].
Surely these patriotic women merited that
the rights of their sex should be considered in full council,
and they were well entitled to a seat; but there is
not a single act of their government in which the sex is
considered as having any rights whatever, or that they
are things to be cared for.
Are not the accursed fruits of Illumination to be seen
in the present humiliating condition of woman in France?
pampered in every thing that can reduce them to the
mere instruments of animal pleasure. In their present
state of national moderation (as they call it) and security,
see Madame Tallien come into the public theatre,
accompanied by other beautiful women, (I was
about to have misnamed them Ladies,) laying aside all
modesty, and presenting themselves to the public view,
with bared limbs, à la Sauvage, as the alluring objects
of desire. I make no doubt but that this is a serious
matter, encouraged, nay, prompted by government.
To keep the minds of the Parisians in the present fever
of dissolute gaiety, they are at more expence from
the national treasury for the support of the sixty theatres,
than all the pensions and honorary offices in Britain,
three times told, amount to. Was not their abominable
farce in the church of Notre Dame a bate of the
same kind in the true spirit of Weishaupt's Eroterion?
"We do not," said the high priest, "call you to the
worship of inanimate idols. Behold a master-piece
of nature, (lifting up the veil which concealed the
naked charms of the beautiful Madms. Barbier):
This sacred image should inflame all hearts." And
it did so; the people shouted out, "No more altars,
no more priests, no God but the God of Nature."
Orleans, the first prince of the blood, did not scruple
to prostitute his daughter, if not to the embraces, yet
to the wanton view of the public, with the precise intention
of inflaming their desires. (See the account
given of the dinners at Sillery's, by Camille Desmoulines,
in his speech against the Brissotins.) But what
will be the end of all this? The fondlings of the wealthy
will be pampered in all the indulgences which
fastidious voluptuousness finds necessary for varying or
enhancing its pleasures; but they will either be slighted
as toys, or they will be immured; and the companions
of the poor will be drudges and slaves.
I am fully persuaded that it was the enthusiastic admiration
of Grecian democracy that recommended to
the French nation the dress à la Grecque, which exhibits
not the elegant, ornamented beauty, but the alluring
female, fully as well as Madame Tallien's dress à la
Sauvage. It was no doubt with the same adherence to
serious principle, that Mademoiselle Therouanne was
most beautifully dressed à l'Amazonne on the 5th of
October 1789, when she turned the heads of so many
young officers of the regiments at Versailles. The
Cythera, the hominum divunque voluptas, at the cathedral
of Notre Dame, was also dressed à la Grecque:
There is a most evident and characteristic change in
the whole system of female dress in France. The Filles
de l'Opera always gave the ton, and were surely withheld
by no rigid principle. They sometimes produced
very extravagant and fantastic forms, but these were
almost always in the style of the highest ornament, and
they trusted, for the rest of the impression which they
wished to make, to the fascinating expression of elegant
movements. This indeed was wonderful, and hardly
conceivable by any who have not seen a grand ballet
performed by good actors. I have shed tears of the
most sincere and tender sorrow during the exhibition of
Antigone, set to music by Traëtta, and performed by
Madame Meilcour and Sre Torelli, and Zantini. I can
easily conceive the impression to be still stronger, though
perhaps of another kind, when the former superb dresses
are changed for the expressive simplicity of the
Grecian. I cannot help thinking that the female ornaments
in the rest of Europe, and even among ourselves,
have less elegance since we lost the sanction of the
French court. But see how all this will terminate,
when we shall have brought the sex so low, and will
not even wait for a Mahometan paradise. What can
we expect but such a dissoluteness of manners, that the
endearing ties of relation and family, and mutual confidence
within doors, will be slighted, and will cease;
and every man must stand up for himself, single and
alone?
Fœcunda culpæ sæcula nuptias
Primum inquinavêre, et genus, et domos.
Hoc fonte derivata clades
In patriam populumque fluxit.
Hor. iii. 6. 17.
This is not the suggestion of prudish fear, I think it is
the natural course of things, and that France is at this
moment giving to the world the fullest proof of
Weishaupt's sagacity, and the judgment with which he
has formed his plans. Can it tend to the improvement
of our morals or manners to have our ladies frequent
the gymnastic theatres, and see them decide, like the
Roman matrons, on the merits of a naked gladiator or
wrestler? Have we not enough of this already with our
vaulters and posture-masters, and should we admire
any lady who had a rage for such spectacles? Will it
improve our taste to have our rooms ornamented with
such paintings and sculptures as filled the cenaculum,
and the study of the refined and elegant moralist Horace,
who had the art—ridendo dicere verum? Shall
we be improved when such indulgences are thought
compatible with such lessons as he generally gives for
the conduct of life? The pure Morality of Illuminatism
is now employed in stripping Italy of all those precious
remains of ancient art and voluptuousness; and
Paris will ere long be the deposit and the resort of artists
from all nations, there to study the works of ancient
masters, and to return from thence panders of
public corruption. The plan is masterly, and the low-born
Statesmen and Generals of France may in this respect
be set on a level with a Colbert or a Condé. But
the consequences of this Gallic dominion over the
minds of fallen man will be as dreadful as their dominion
over their lives and fortunes.
Recollect in what manner Spartacus proposed to
corrupt his sisters (for we need not speak of the manner
in which he expected that this would promote his plan—this
is abundantly plain). It was by destroying their
moral sentiments, and their sentiments of religion. Recollect
what is the recommendation that the Atheist
Minos gives of his step-daughters, when he speaks of
them, as proper persons for the Lodge of Sisters.
"They have got over all prejudices, and, in matters
of religion they think as I do." These profligates
judged rightly that this affair required much caution,
and that the utmost attention to decency, and even delicacy,
must be observed in their rituals and ceremonies,
otherwise the women would be disgusted. This
was judging fairly of the feelings of a female mind.
But they judged falsely, and only according to their
own coarse experience, when they attributed their disgust
and their fears to coyness. Coyness is indeed the
instinctive attribute of the female. In woman it is very
great, and it is perhaps the genuine source of the disgust
of which the Illuminati were suspicious. But they have
been dim-sighted indeed, or very unfortunate in their
acquaintance, if they never observed any other source
of repugnance in the mind of woman to what is immoral
or immodest—if they did not see dislike—moral
disapprobation. Do they mean to insinuate, that in
that regard which modest women express in all their
words and actions, for what every one understands by
the terms decency, modesty, and the disapprobation
of every thing that violates those feelings, the women
only show female coyness? Then are they very blind
instructors. But they are not so blind. The account
given of the initiation of a young Sister at Frankfort,
under the feigned name Psycharion, shows the most
scrupulous attention to the moral feelings of the sex;
and the confusion and disturbance which, after all their
care, it occasioned among the ladies, shows, that when
they thought all right and delicate, they had been but
coarse judges. Minos damns the ladies there, because
they are too free, too rich, too republican, and too
wise, for being led about by the nose (this is his own
expression). But Philo certainly thought more correctly
of the sex in general, when he says, Truth is a
modest girl: She may be handed about like a lady, by
good sense and good manners, but must not be bullied
and driven about like a strumpet. I would here insert
the discourses or addresses which were made on that
occasion to the different classes of the assembly, girls,
young ladies, wives, young men, and strangers, which
are really ingenious and well composed, were they not
such as would offend my fair countrywomen.
The religious sentiments by which mortals are to be
assisted, even in the discharge of their moral duties,
and still more, the sentiments which are purely religious,
and have no reference to any thing here, are
precisely those which are most easily excited in the
mind of woman. Affection, admiration, filial reverence,
are, if I mistake not exceedingly, those in
which the women far surpass the men; and it is on
this account that we generally find them so much disposed
to devotion, which is nothing but a sort of fond
indulgence of those affections without limit to the imagination.
The enraptured devotee pours out her soul
in expressions of these feelings, just as a fond mother
mixes the caresses given to her child with the most extravagant
expressions of love. The devotee even endeavours
to excite higher degrees of these affections,
by expatiating on such circumstances in the divine
conduct with respect to man as naturally awaken them;
and he does this without any fear of exceeding; because
Infinite Wisdom and Goodness will always justify
the sentiment, and free the expression of it from all
charge of hyperbole or extravagance.
I am convinced, therefore, that the female mind is
well adapted to cultivation by means of religion, and
that their native softness and kindness of heart will always
be sufficient for procuring it a favourable reception
from them. It is therefore with double regret
that I see any of them join in the arrogant pretensions
of our Illuminated philosophers, who see no need of
such assistances for the knowledge and discharge of
their duties. There is nothing so unlike that general
modesty of thought, and that diffidence, which we are
disposed to think the character of the female mind. I
am inclined to think, that such deviations from the general
conduct of the sex are marks of a harsher character,
of a heart that has less sensibility, and is on the
whole less amiable than that of others. Yet it must
be owned that there are some such among us. Much,
if not the whole of this perversion, has, I am persuaded,
been owing to the contagion of bad example in
the men. They are made familiar with such expressions—their
first horror is gone, and (would to heaven
that I were mistaken!) some of them have already
wounded their consciences to such a degree, that they
have some reason to wish that religion may be without
foundation.
But I would call upon all, and these women in particular,
to consider this matter in another light—as it
may affect themselves in this life; as it may affect their
rank and treatment in ordinary society. I would say
to them, that if the world shall once adopt the belief
that this life is our all, then the true maxim of rational
conduct will be, to "eat and to drink, since to-morrow
we are to die;" and that when they have nothing
to trust to but the fondness of the men, they
will soon find themselves reduced to slavery. The
crown which they now wear will fall from their heads,
and they will no longer be the arbiters of what is lovely
in human life. The empire of beauty is but short;
and even in republican France, it will not be many
years that Madame Tallien can fascinate the Parisian
Theatre by the exhibition of her charms. Man is fastidious
and changeable, he is the stronger animal, and
can always take his own will with respect to woman.
At present he is with-held by respect for her moral
worth—and many are with-held by religion—and many
more are with-held by public laws, which laws
were framed at a time when religious truths influenced
the minds and the conduct of men. When the sentiments
of men change, they will not be so foolish as to
keep in force laws which cramp their strongest desires.
Then will the rich have their Harems, and the poor
their drudges.
Nay, it is not merely the circumstance of woman's
being considered as the moral companion of man that
gives the sex its empire among us. There is something
of this to be observed in all nations. Of all the
distinctions which set our species above the other sentient
inhabitants of this globe, making us as unlike to
the best of them as they are to a piece of inanimate
matter, there is none more remarkable than the differences
observable in the appearances of those desires by
which the race is continued. As I observed already,
such a distinction is indispensably necessary. There
must be a moral connexion, in order that the human
species may be a race of rational creatures, improveable,
not only by the increasing experience of the individual,
but also by the heritable experience of the
successive generations. It may be observed between
the solitary pairs in Labrador, where human nature
starves, like the stunted oak in the crevice of a baron
rock and it is seen in the cultivated societies of Europe,
where our nature in a series of ages becomes a
majestic tree. Whatever may be the native powers
of mind in the poor but gentle Esquimaux, she can do
nothing for the species but nurse a young one, who
cannot run his race of life without incessant and hard
labour to keep soul and body together—here therefore
her station in society can hardly have a name, because
there can hardly be said to be any association, except
what is necessary for repelling the hostile attacks of
Indians, who seem to hunt them without provocation
as the dog does the hare. In other parts of the world,
we see that the consideration in which the sex is held,
nearly follows the proportions of that aggregate of many
different particulars, which we consider as constituting
the cultivation of a society. We may perhaps
err, and we probably do err, in our estimation of those
degrees, because we are not perfectly acquainted with
what is the real excellence of man. But as far as we
can judge of it, I believe that my assertion is acknowledged.
On this authority, I might presume to say,
that it is in Christian Europe that man has attained his
highest degree of cultivation—and it is undoubtedly
here that the women have attained the highest rank.
I may even add, that it is in that part of Europe where
the essential and distinguishing doctrines of Christian
morality are most generally acknowledged and attended
to by the laws of the country, that woman acts the
highest part in general society. But here we must be
very careful how we form our notion, either of the
society, or of the female rank—it is surely not from
the two or three dozens who fill the highest ranks in
the state. Their number is too small, and their situation
is too particular, to afford the proper average.
Besides, the situation of the individuals of this class in
all countries is very much the same—and in all it is
very artificial—accordingly their character is fantastical.
Nor are we to take it from that class that is the
most numerous of all, the lowest class of society, for
these are the labouring poor, whose conduct and occupations
are so much dictated to them by the hard
circumstances of their situation, that scarcely any thing
is left to their choice. The situation of women of this
class must be nearly the same in all nations. But this
class is still susceptible of some variety—and we see it—and
I think that even here there is a perceptible superiority
of the female rank in those countries where
the purest Christianity prevails. We must however
take our measures or proportions from a numerous
class, but also a class in somewhat of easy circumstances,
where moral sentiments call some attention,
and persons have some choice in their conduct. And
here, although I cannot pretend to have had many
opportunities of observation, yet I have had some. I
can venture to say that it is not in Russia, nor in
Spain, that woman is, on the whole, the most important
as a member of the community. I would
say, that in Britain her important rights are more generally
respected than any where else. No where is
a man's character so much hurt by conjugal infidelity—no
where is it so difficult to rub off the stigma
of bastardy, or to procure a decent reception or society
for an improper connection; and I believe it
will readily be granted, that the share of the women
in successions, their authority in all matters of domestic
trust, and even their opinions in what concerns
life and manners, are fully more respected here than
in any country.
I have long been of the opinion, (and every observation
that I have been able to make since I first
formed it confirms me in it,) that woman is indebted
to Christianity alone for the high rank she holds in
society. Look into the writings of antiquity—into
the works of the Greek and Latin poets—into the
numberless panegyrics of the sex, to be found both
in prose and verse—I can find little, very little indeed,
where woman is treated with respect—there is
no want of love, that is, of fondness, of beauty, of
charms, of graces. But of woman as the equal of
man, as a moral companion, travelling with him the
road to felicity—as his adviser—his solace in misfortune—as
a pattern from which he may sometimes
copy with advantage;—of all this there is hardly a
trace. Woman is always mentioned as an object of
passion. Chastity, modesty, sober-mindedness, are
all considered in relation to this single point; or sometimes
as of importance in respect of economy or domestic
quiet. Recollect the famous speech of Meteltellus
Numidicus to the Roman people, when, as,
Censor, he was recommending marriage.
"Si fine uxore possemus Quirites esse, omnes eâ
molestiâ careremus. Sed quoniam ita natura tradidit,
ut nec cum illis commodè, nec fine illis ullo
modo vivi posset, saluti perpetuæ potius quam brevi
voluptati consulendum."
Aul. Gell. Noct. Att. I. 6.
What does Ovid, the great panegyrist of the sex,
say for his beloved daughter, whom he had praised
for her attractions in various places of his Tristia and
other compositions? He is writing her Epitaph—and
the only thing he can say of her as a rational creature
is, that she was—Domisida—not a Gadabout.—Search
Apuleius, where you will find many female characters
in abstracto—You will find that his little Photis (a
cook-maid and strumpet) was nearest to his heart, after
all his philosophy. Nay, in his pretty story of
Cupid and Psyche, which the very wise will tell you
is a fine lesson of moral philosophy, and a representation
of the operations of the intellectual and moral faculties
of the human soul, a story which gave him
the finest opportunity, nay, almost made it necessary
for him to insert whatever can ornament the female
character; what is his Psyche but a beautiful, fond,
and silly girl; and what are the whole fruits of any
acquaintance with the sex?—Pleasure. But why take
more pains in the search?—Look at their immortal
goddesses—is there one among them whom a wise man
would select for a wife or a friend?—I grant that a
Lucretia is praised—a Portia, an Arria, a Zenobia—but
these are individual characters—not representatives
of the sex. The only Grecian ladies who made a
figure by intellectual talents, were your Aspasias, Sapphos,
Phrynes, and other nymphs of this cast, who
had emerged from the general insignificance of the sex,
by throwing away what we are accustomed to call its
greatest ornament.
I think that the first piece in which woman is pictured
as a respectable character, is the oldest novel
that I am acquainted with, written by a Christian Bishop,
Heliodorus—I mean the Adventures of Theagenes
and Chariclea. I think that the Heroine is a
greater character than you will meet with in all the
annals of antiquity. And it is worth while to observe
what was the effect of this painting. The poor Bishop
had been deposed, and even excommunicated,
for doctrinal errors, and for drawing such a picture of
a heathen. The magistrates of Antioch, the most
voluptuous and corrupted city of the East, wrote to
the Emperor, telling him that this book had reformed
the ladies of their city, where Julian the Emperor and
his Sophists had formerly preached in vain, and they
therefore prayed that the good Bishop might not be
deprived of his mitre.—It is true, we read of Hypatia,
daughter of Theon, the mathematician at Alexandria,
who was a prodigy of excellence, and taught philosophy,
i. e. the art of leading a good and happy life, with
great applause in the famous Alexandrian school.—But
she also was in the times of Christianity, and was
the intimate friend of Syncellus and other Christian
Bishops.
It is undoubtedly Christianity that has set woman on
her throne, making her in every respect the equal of
man, bound to the same duties, and candidate for the
same happiness. Mark how woman is described by a
Christian poet,
——"Yet when I approach
Her loveliness, so absolute she seems,
And in herself complete, so well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best.
Neither her outside, form'd so fair,——
So much delights me, as those graceful acts,
Those thousand decencies that daily flow
From all her words and actions, mix'd with love
And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd
Union of mind, or in us both one soul.
——And, to consummate all,
Greatness of mind, and nobleness, their seat
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe
About her, as a guard angelic plac'd."
Milton.
This is really moral painting, without any abatement
of female charms.
This is the natural consequence of that purity of
heart, which is so much insisted on in the Christian morality.
In the instructions of the heathen philosophers,
it is either not mentioned at all, or at most, it is recommended
coldly, as a thing proper, and worthy of a mind
attentive to great things.—But, in Christianity, it is
insisted on as an indispensable duty, and enforced by
many arguments peculiar to itself.
It is worthy of observation, that the most prominent
superstitions which have dishonoured the Christian
churches, have been the excessive refinements which
the enthusiastic admiration of heroic purity has allowed
the holy trade to introduce into the manufacture of
our spiritual fetters. Without this enthusiasm, cold
expediency would not have been able to make the Monastic
vow so general, nor have given us such numbers
of convents. These were generally founded by such
enthusiasts—the rulers indeed of the church encouraged
this to the utmost, as the best levy for the spiritual
power—but they could not enjoin such foundations.
From the same source we may derive the chief influence
of auricular confession. When these were firmly
established, and were venerated, almost all the other
corruptions of Christianity followed of course. I may
almost add, that though it is here that Christianity has
suffered the most violent attacks, it is here that the
place is most tenable.—Nothing tends so much to knit
all the ties of society as the endearing connections of
family, and whatever tends to lessen our veneration for
the marriage-contract, weakens them in the most effectual
manner. Purity of manners is the most effectual
support, and pure thoughts are the only sources from
which pure manners can flow. I readily grant that in
former times this veneration for personal purity was
carried to an extravagant height, and that several very
ridiculous fancies and customs arose from this. Romantic
love and chivalry are strong instances of the
strange vagaries of our imagination, when carried along
by this enthusiastic admiration of female purity; and
so unnatural and forced, that they could only be temporary
fashions. But I believe that, with all their ridicule,
it would be a happy nation where this was the
general creed and practice. Nor can I help thinking
a nation on its decline, when the domestic connections
cease to be venerated, and the illegitimate offspring of
a nabob or a nobleman are received with ease into good
company.
Nothing is more clear than that the design of the Illuminati
was to abolish Christianity—and we now see
how effectual this would be for the corruption of the
fair sex, a purpose which they eagerly wished to gain,
that they might corrupt the men. But if the women
would retain the rank they now hold, they will be
careful to preserve in full force on their minds this religion,
so congenial to their dispositions, which nature
has made affectionate and kind.
And with respect to the men, is it not egregious
folly to encourage any thing that can tend to blast our
sweetest enjoyments? Shall we not do this most effectually
if we attempt to corrupt what nature will always
make us consider as the highest elegance of life? The
divinity of the Stoics was, "Mens sana in corpore sano,"—but
it is equally true,
"Gratior est pulchro veniens e corpore virtus."
If, therefore, instead of professedly tainting what is of
itself beautiful, we could really work it up to
"That fair form, which, wove in fancy's loom,
"Floats in light visions round the poet's head,"
and make woman a pattern of perfection, we should
undoubtedly add more to the heartfelt happiness of life
than by all the discoveries of the Illuminati. See what
was the effect of Theagenes and Chariclea.
And we should remember that with the fate of woman
that of man is indissolubly knit. The voice of
nature spoke through our immortal bard, when he made
Adam say,
——"From thy state
"Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe."
Should we suffer the contagion to touch our fair partner,
all is gone, and too late shall we say,
"O fairest of creation! last and best
"Of all God's works, creature in whom excell'd
"Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd,
"Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!
"How art thou lost,—and now to death devote?
"And me with thee hast ruin'd; for with thee
"Certain my resolution is to die."