Zanoni — Edward Bulwer-Lytton
“ When I first received thee as my pupil, I promised Zanoni, if convinced by thy first trials that thou couldst but swell, not the number of our order, but the list of the victims who have aspired to it in vain, I would not rear thee to thine own wretchedness and doom,— I would dismiss thee back to the world. I fulfil my promise. Thine ordeal has been the easiest that neophyte ever knew.e I asked for nothing but abstinence from the sensual, and a brief experiment of thy patience and thy faith. Go back to thine own world ; thou hast no nature to aspire to ours! “Tt was I who prepared Paolo to receive thee at the revel. It was I who instigated the old beggar to ask thee for alms. It was I who left open the book that thou couldst not read without violating my command. Well, thou hast seen what awaits thee at the threshold of knowledge. Thou hast confronted the first foe that menaces him whom the senses yet grasp and inthrall. Dost thou wonder that I close upon thee the gates forever? Dost thou not comprehend, at last, that it needs a soul tempered and purified and raised, not by external spells, but by its own sublimity and valor, to pass the threshold and disdain the foe? Wretch! all my silence avails
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nothing for the rash, for the sensual,—for him who desires our secrets but to pollute them to gross enjoyments and selfish vice. How have the impostors and sorcerers of the earlier times perished by their very attempt to penetrate the mysteries that should purify, and not deprave! They have boasted of the Philosopher’s Stone, and died in rags; of the immortal elixir, and sunk to their grave, gray before their time.
Legends tell you that the fiend rent them into fragments, Yes; the fiend of their own unholy desires and criminal designs! What they coveted, thou covetest ; and if thou hadst the wings of a seraph thou couldst soar not from the slough of thy mortality.
Thy desire for knowledge, but petulant presumption; thy thirst for happiness, but the diseased longing for the unclean and muddied waters of corporeal pleasure; thy very love, which usually elevates even the mean, a passion that calculates treason amidst the first glow of lust. Thow one of us ; thou a brother of the August Order; thou an Aspirant to the Stars that shine in the Shemaid of the Chaldean lore!
The eagle can raise but the eaglet to the sun. I abandon thee to thy twilight ! ** But, alas for thee, disobedient and profane! thou hast inhaled the elixir; thou hast attracted to thy presence a ghastly and remorseless foe. Thou thyself must exorcise the phantom thou hast raised. Thou must return to the world; but not without punishment and strong effort canst thou regain the calm and the joy of the life thou hast left behind.
This, for thy comfort, will I tell thee: he who has drawn into his frame even so little of the volatile and vital energy of the aérial juices as thyself, has awakened faculties that cannot sleep,— faculties that may yet, with patient humility, with sound faith, and the courage that is not of the body like thine, but of the resolute and virtuous mind, attain, if not to the knowledge that reigns above, to high achievement in the career of men.
Thou wilt find the restless influence in all that thou wouldst undertake. Thy heart, amidst vulgar joys will aspire to something holier ; thy ambition, amidst coarse excitement, to something beyond thy reach. But deem not that this of itself will suttice for glory. Equally may the sraving lead thee to shame and guilt. It is but an imperfect and new-born energy which will not suffer thee to repose.
As thou directest it, must thou believe it to be the emanation of thine evil genius or thy good. ‘¢ But woe to thee! insect meshed in the web in which thou hast entangled limbs and wings! ‘Thou hast not only inhaled the elixir, thou hast conjured the spectre; of all the tribes of the space, no foe is so malignant to man, —and thou hast lifted the veil from thy gaze. I cannot restore to thee the happy dimness of thy vision.
Know, at least, that all of us— the highest and the wisest — who have, in sober truth, passed beyond the threshold, have had, as our first fearful task, to master and subdue its grisly and appalling guardian. Know that thou canst deliver thyself from those livid eyes, — know that, while they haunt, they cannot harm, if thou resistest the thoughts to which they tempt, and the horror they engender. Dread them most when thou beholdest them not.
And thus, son of the worm, we part! All that I can tell thee to encourage, yet to warn and to guide, I have told thee in these lines. Not from me, from thyself has come the gloomy trial from which I yet trust thou wilt emerge into peace. Type of the knowledge that I serve, I withhold no lesson from the pure aspirant; I am a dark enigma to the general seeker.
As man’s only indestructible possession is his memory, so it is not in mine art to crumble into matter the immaterial thoughts that have sprung up within thy breast. The tyro might shatter this castle to the dust, and topple down the mountain to the plain. The master has no power to say, ‘Exist no more,’ to one THOUGHT that his knowledge has inspired.
Thou mayst change the thought into new forms; thou mayst rarefy and sublimate it into a finer spirit, — but thou canst not annihilate that which has no home but in the memory, no substance but the idea. Every rHoucut is asoun! Vainly, therefore, would I or thou undo the past, or restore to thee the gay blindness of thy youth. Thou must endure the influence of the elixir thou hast inhaled; thou must wrestle with the spectre thou hast invoked | ””
“ When I first received you as my pupil, I promised Zanoni, if convinced by your first trials that you could but swell, not the number of our order, but the list of the victims who have aspired to it in vain, I would not rear you to your own wretchedness and doom,— I would dismiss you back to the world. I fulfil my promise. Your ordeal has been the easiest that neophyte ever knew.e I asked for nothing but abstinence from the sensual, and a brief experiment of your patience and your faith. Go back to your own world ; you have no nature to aspire to ours! “Tt was I who prepared Paolo to receive you at the revel. It was I who instigated the old beggar to ask you for alms. It was I who left open the book that you could not read without violating my command. Well, you have seen what awaits you at the threshold of knowledge. You have confronted the first foe that menaces him whom the senses yet grasp and inthrall. Dost you wonder that I close upon you the gates forever? Dost you not comprehend, at last, that it needs a soul tempered and purified and raised, not by external spells, but by its own sublimity and valor, to pass the threshold and disdain the foe? Wretch! all my silence avails
p. 335
nothing for the rash, for the sensual,—for him who desires our secrets but to pollute them to gross enjoyments and selfish vice. How have the impostors and sorcerers of the earlier times perished by their very attempt to penetrate the mysteries that should purify, and not deprave! They have boasted of the Philosopher’s Stone, and died in rags; of the immortal elixir, and sunk to their grave, gray before their time. Legends tell you that the fiend rent them into fragments, Yes; the fiend of their own unholy desires and criminal designs! What they coveted, you covetest ; and if you had the wings of a seraph you could soar not from the slough of your mortality. Your desire for knowledge, but petulant presumption; your thirst for happiness, but the diseased longing for the unclean and muddied waters of corporeal pleasure; your very love, which usually elevates even the mean, a passion that calculates treason amidst the first glow of lust. Thow one of us ; you a brother of the August Order; you an Aspirant to the Stars that shine in the Shemaid of the Chaldean lore! The eagle can raise but the eaglet to the sun. I abandon you to your twilight ! ** But, alas for you, disobedient and profane! you have inhaled the elixir; you have attracted to your presence a ghastly and remorseless foe. You yourself must exorcise the phantom you have raised. You must return to the world; but not without punishment and strong effort can you regain the calm and the joy of the life you have left behind. This, for your comfort, will I tell you: he who has drawn into his frame even so little of the volatile and vital energy of the aérial juices as yourself, has awakened faculties that cannot sleep,— faculties that may yet, with patient humility, with sound faith, and the courage that is not of the body like your, but of the resolute and virtuous mind, attain, if not to the knowledge that reigns above, to high achievement in the career of men. You will find the restless influence in all that you would undertake. Your heart, amidst vulgar joys will aspire to something holier ; your ambition, amidst coarse excitement, to something beyond your reach. But deem not that this of itself will suttice for glory. Equally may the sraving lead you to shame and guilt. It is but an imperfect and new-born energy which will not suffer you to repose. As you directest it, must you believe it to be the emanation of your evil genius or your good. ‘¢ But woe to you! insect meshed in the web in which you have entangled limbs and wings! ‘You have not only inhaled the elixir, you have conjured the spectre; of all the tribes of the space, no foe is so malignant to man, —and you have lifted the veil from your gaze. I cannot restore to you the happy dimness of your vision. Know, at least, that all of us— the highest and the wisest — who have, in sober truth, passed beyond the threshold, have had, as our first fearful task, to master and subdue its grisly and appalling guardian. Know that you can deliver yourself from those livid eyes, — know that, while they haunt, they cannot harm, if you resistest the thoughts to which they tempt, and the horror they engender. Dread them most when you behold them not. And thus, son of the worm, we part! All that I can tell you to encourage, yet to warn and to guide, I have told you in these lines. Not from me, from yourself has come the gloomy trial from which I yet trust you will emerge into peace. Type of the knowledge that I serve, I withhold no lesson from the pure aspirant; I am a dark enigma to the general seeker. As man’s only indestructible possession is his memory, so it is not in mine art to crumble into matter the immaterial thoughts that have sprung up within your breast. The tyro might shatter this castle to the dust, and topple down the mountain to the plain. The master has no power to say, ‘Exist no more,’ to one THOUGHT that his knowledge has inspired. You mayst change the thought into new forms; you mayst rarefy and sublimate it into a finer spirit, — but you can not annihilate that which has no home but in the memory, no substance but the idea. Every rHoucut is asoun! Vainly, therefore, would I or you undo the past, or restore to you the gay blindness of your youth. You must endure the influence of the elixir you have inhaled; you must wrestle with the spectre you have invoked | ””
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