Vox stellarum: part ten — Sagittarius

The Voice of the Stars: the testament of the Zodiac unveiled

Introduction

In part ten of our survey of the hidden message of the stars we turn our attention to the Constellation and Sign of Sagittarius — the Ninth Gate of the Zodiac. This is the third and last of the three Signs concerned with Judgement. The other two are Libra and Scorpio, which we discussed in the previous two parts of this investigation. As we said in part nine, the arrow which the Archer fits to his bow may carry us up to Heaven or down to hell. The Ninth Gate of the Zodiac may lead us to the Light of the Higher realms or to the grim regions where the burning Flame roars for ever, hungry for the victims of the Dark, who willingly embrace the doctrines of evil.

In our accompanying Afterword we train our metaphorical telescope on the extra-zodiacal constellations of Centaurus or the Centaur, and Crux or the Southern Cross. Our principal aim, however, remains to reconcile Astrology with its lost sibling — Astronomy, so that we might restore something of the Wisdom they embodied when they were one, unified Science. If you have not read the previous parts of this investigation or our afterwords to them, please do so before continuing, or you will not obtain a complete understanding of the many subjects under discussion. Before we take up the study of Sagittarius we would like to say something about the twin Egyptian deities Shu and Tefnut which were associated with the Sign of the Archer from the earliest dynasties.

Anon. — Shu and Tefnut — gouache on artboard. 1986.

Proem: Shu and Tefnut

I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. Genesis 9:13

Shu and Tefnut play an important role in the creation as it is set forth in such sacred texts as the Book of the Dead. The account of creation in Genesis closely follows — some would say is directly copied from — the Egyptian mythos. From the latter we learn that Nu or Nun is the firmamental 'water' of the Hebrew version, the water over which darkness brooded and from which the spirits of the Elohim emerged; the water that was divided into the upper and lower firmaments, as an act of so-called 'creation'. The first three of the seven elemental powers born of the Great Mother, were represented by Set, the power of Darkness; Horus, the power of Light; and Shu, the power of Air or breathing force, while his sister, Tefnut, represented the soul of moisture. You may recall that we discussed these elemental powers in the Proem to part three of this investigation. These seven powers were the fashioners of the material Kosmos, the first three of whom — the Egyptian gods Set, Shu and Tefnut — all appear in the opening statements of Genesis. "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth." This god corresponds to Atum, Khepera or Ra, depending on which phase of the Egyptian mythos is under consideration. Next, we read that "...the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep." That darkness was represented by the god Set in Egypt. "And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." This was the breathing force of Shu or the breeze of the dawn, when the "evening and the morning were the first day." Tefnut, the sister of Shu, denotes the dews of dawn, and the next two Gods are Geb and Nut, or Earth and Heaven. These were separated by Shu at dawn when Nut (Heaven), was lifted up from Geb (Earth). This was a poetic way of signifying the separation of the purely material realms from the spiritual regions above or beyond it which together comprised the Egyptian Heaven. It is this "beginning" that was closely followed in Genesis. Shu and his sister, Tefnut were the first couple of the group of nine gods called the Ennead of Heliopolis. Both Gods were generally depicted in human form, Shu with an ostrich feather on his head and Tefnut with the hieroglyph of her name in a cartouche, as we see in the illustration shown above.

Shu is mentioned in several places in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, generally in connection with the lifting up the deceased, meaning his resurrection. In chapter XXIII, it is Shu who opens the mouth of the deceased; that is to say equips him to speak in the Other World. In chapter LIV, Shu provides air, thus allowing the deceased to breathe in the Other World. Now, what does this mean? Simply that breath is the essence of the life of all living beings. The higher we ascend in the scale of being, the purer the atmosphere becomes; the reverse being true of the dark realms below the Earth. Hence, it is Shu who, figuratively speaking provides the deceased with the purer air he requires in order to flourish in the Egyptian paradise. The reason for such curious statements in the Book of the Dead is explained in Vision Six of The Golden Star: "This is the Prince-dom of the Rulers in the World of Astral Fire. Sacred and inviolable in its Purity it lies between the lower Astral Worlds and the Heavenly Realms. A Holy Barrier that none but Holy Souls of Purity and Wisdom ever pass. It is cut off from earth and all the spheres below it and above, by walls of leaping flames that sear the Minds of those not qualified and blind their sight, so that, perforce, they must return to those abodes for which they are equipped by nature of their attributes of spiritual modulation. This is ordeal by Fire in the truest sense; for if a single speck of earthly dross remains within their Minds, the fiery glow will seize upon that mote and burn it up. They shall not pass when so disqualified." In chapter CX of the Papyrus of Ani we encounter what appears to be a rather strange statement about the god Shu. "He who counteth me is Shu. I know him not." Why does Ani not know him? Because Shu being a great god is naturally unknown personally to anyone in the high realm to which Ani has now been lifted up. So Ani admits that he doesn't know him, even though he is counted among his favoured followers. To think otherwise, as some Christians do, would be prideful blasphemy, just as it is ignorant conceit on the part of human beings to claim that they know God personally. This 'I know him not' puzzled the Egyptologist E. A. Wallis Budge greatly; but now you now know why Ani said it.

A little further on in the same chapter, Ani declares: "O Uakh, I have come into thee. I have eaten my food. I am master of choice pieces of the flesh of oxen and of feathered fowl, and the birds of Shu have been given unto me. I follow the gods, and I come unto thee." Now what on earth does this mean? It is passages such as these which modern Egyptologists take literally. If you have carefully followed our investigation from the very beginning, you will know more than any Egyptologist unless he or she happens to be a trained occultist, which few are! The 'choice pieces of flesh' are select Teachings, while 'feathered fowl' may refer to their elevated nature. The 'birds of Shu' means the same or it may refer to specific teachings dealing with the separation of the various realms of being. The final line however, should be taken literally. Ani follows the gods, that is to say, he is a good and righteous man, and his goodness has brought him to the domain of the god. Uakh is the name of a location within Sekhet Hetepet which has no significance other than as a 'handle' to describe the places the deceased passes through in the Other World, much the same as we might list the intermediate stations we pass through on a train journey from London to Edinburgh. In chapter LXXVIII — which bears the significant title The Chapter of Changing into a Divine Hawk — Ani declares: "I speak to the great ones of Shu, they repulse him that is wrathful in his hour. I am Horus who dwelleth in his divine Light." As Ani has triumphed over his enemies, principally his own lower self, he now identifies himself with Horus who triumphed over his enemies, meaning Set and his conspirators. Ani converses with the 'great ones of Shu', meaning the great Masters who teach the Holy Mysteries in the Higher realms of the 'divine Light'. The 'wrathful' one may refer to any evil being who afflicted Ani on Earth, but his own lower self is probably meant here.

Shu and Tefnut were also called the "Twin Lion Gods." These represented the north and south as keepers of the solstices, as well as the upper and lower Heaven, or the higher and lower realms of the Astral World. They also stood for the two selves or minds, Shu standing for the higher principle and Tefnut for the lower. We simply cannot get away from these two selves. Wherever we look in the Heavens we find the two selves of man or woman, the one gazing aloft and the other below; one to the left and the other to the right; one born of darkness and the other of Light. Yet both are gods, one actually and the other potentially, if by gods we mean spiritual beings temporarily clothed in material vehicles for the purposes of evolution to a higher state. In some Egyptian planispheres Sagittarius, or the Archer, is depicted as a compound figure of a centaur based on the lion instead of the horse, with the human face of Shu in front and the face of Tefnut the lioness behind, as you can see in the illustration shown below. Interestingly, the tail of this figuration is that of a scorpion not a lion, showing how the three Judgement Signs are all inextricably linked together.

Sagittarius the Archer — Temple of Khnum, Esna — limestone, ca. 250 A.D.

Before we conclude this Proem we must not omit to mention a specific allusion to the Archer in chapter six of Revelation. Therein we may read: "And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer" (Revelation 6:2). In the same chapter we may read about a man upon a black horse with a pair of scales in his hand, and in verse nine about the altar, under which those who proclaimed the word of God were slain by the wicked. This follows verse eight; a very famous verse indeed which many of you will have heard quoted, usually wrongly and out of context. In the KJV it reads: "And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth." So, in chapter six we find all three Judgement Signs: Libra (the man with the scales); Scorpio (the altar and the pale horse whose rider was Death); and Sagittarius (the Archer). We shall have more to say about the Book of Revelation in the next part of our investigation when we discuss the constellation and Zodiacal Sign of Capricorn, the Sea-Goat or Man-Fish.

Sagittarius, the Archer. The Sage or Counsellor

The ruling planet of Sagittarius is Jupiter. In the mythology of classical times Jupiter represented the Divine Mind and was consequently hailed as Optimus Maximus by the Romans. His Greek counterpart is spoken of with equal reverence; for the Zeus of Homer is the Greatest and the Best, and the most to be revered of all the deities. He is the God of Light, of Justice, and of Truth; the Father of Gods and of men. He dominates the entire world because his thought comprehends all things. One vibration of his mighty will makes the whole Earth tremble. One movement of his eyebrow shakes high Olympus, and the very gods upon their thrones. Princes and rulers are appointed and deposed by his divine decree. Nations rise and fall according to their virtues and vices. When Jupiter has inclined his head, his decision is irrevocable, and cannot be altered. Above all things he is beneficent, just and kindly — ever ready to hear the prayers of his children, and to grant their requests. According to Gerald Massey, Jupiter was represented by the Egyptians as Geb, the god of the Earth. Only later, coincident with the conquest of Egypt by the Romans, did he become associated with Amen as Jupiter-Amon. In all these figurations, Jupiter stood for the god of the Earth, making him identical with the Jewish Jehovah and the Gnostic Demiurge. Among the Greeks and Romans, he is the god of lightning, thunder and rain, descending in person in the lightning-bolt; hence his titles Fulgur and Fumen. The Romans also worshipped him as Dius Fidius — the silent but ever-present witness of man's observance of their vows and pledges. Here we find confirmation of the dominant note of the Third Division, that of Judgement, and the role the Third Sign plays in uniting the darkness to the Light; the time of death to the time of life which follows after death, for Inner Light, as we shall see later on, is the essential quality of this Constellation and Sign.

Sagittarius has been almost universally portrayed as a Centaur, half man, half horse. The judgement of the Archer is the time of war in the lesser as well as the greater sense, whether it is the judgement of the Self alone, or all mankind. The arrow of the Archer is poised, ready to be shot forth at the foe, whether that enemy is the lower mind or the Higher Mind, or the hordes of evil beings of the lower worlds, or of evil men on Earth. Moreover, the arrow is pointed at the neighbouring Sign of the Scorpion which, as we learned in the previous part of our investigation, can stand for either mind. The horse is a war-horse. It is prepared against the day of battle; the battle fought every day in the breast of every man and every woman. The wise Egyptians described the two selves as the 'Two Fighters', figured as Horus and Set in the mythos. For, as we may read in the Bible "He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword" (Job 39:21-22). This is the same white horse which appears repeatedly in the Book of Revelation that we mentioned earlier. Later on in the book, we read: "And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war" (Revelation 19.11). Notice the reference to judgement! Here we have further proof of what we said in the Proem to part two of our investigation (The Zodiac and the Bible) when we told you about the wealth of astronomical and astrological lore concealed in the Bible.

The Babylonian name of the ninth month was gam-ganna, 'the very Cloudy' or, in short, 'The Cloud', while the ancient name for Sagittarius — the constellation that belongs to the ninth month — means, 'day-spring'. It was also called 'the day of dawn' in Akkadian. This reminds us that the star Hamal, in the constellation of the Ram which begins the Zodiac, is called 'The Dawn-Proclaimer'. Here, at the end of the Third Division, the stars have reached the dawn of which the Second Division — that of Resurrection — was the precursor. This name of the sunrise associated with the ninth month called 'the very Cloudy' reinforces the dual symbolism of the dual figure of man and horse. The Judgement of the Archer will be the darkest hour before the dawn. Interestingly, exactly opposite to the very cloudy month is the constellation of the Twins — the hostile brothers figured as the stars Castor and Pollux, made one, or the Higher and lower mind reconciled in amity.

From about 4,300 to 2,150 B.C., the spring equinox coincided with Taurus and the autumn equinox with Scorpio. In accordance with this, a Babylonian boundary stone dating from approximately 1,200 B.C. depicts the Archer as a scorpion-man, wearing a cylindrical headdress. As you can see in the illustration shown at left, this enigmatic figure has the head, arms and torso of a man, while below his girdle he has the body and tail of a scorpion, and the legs and claws of a bird. It is possible that the constellation of Sagittarius was once depicted as a scorpion-man rather than a horse-man. Moreover, the boat-shaped body of the scorpion supports the suggestion made by some Egyptologists that the ancient Egyptian constellation of the Boat was located in the region now occupied by Sagittarius. For, as we discussed in the Afterword to part five, the constellation of Argo Navis traverses no less than seven Signs of the Zodiac, stretching all the way from Cancer to Capricorn. So much for Sagittarius the constellation, what of the Zodiacal Sign?

Like its opposite Sign of the Twins, Sagittarius is a Mutable and Positive Sign. But, in addition to the qualities of adaptability and changefulness common to all Mutable Signs, and the intellectual energy of the Air Signs (Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius), it brings the enthusiasm and burning ardour of Fire to the combination. The evolved Sagittarian is not only highly intelligent but intellectually gifted. He brings his reason to bear upon everything that comes under his observation, and finds his most congenial occupation in getting to the bottom of things. His curiosity is insatiable and his mental energy never flags. He interests himself intensely — and often succeeds in interesting others — in the relation of cause to effect and effect to cause. If his nature is well balanced, and his environment helpful and congenial, he not only makes very rapid progress in evolution himself, but is a great centre of illumination for others. He is naturally gregarious, and has a keen interest in the welfare of others, and especially their education.

Hence, the evolved Sagittarian is the Sage or Counsellor of his fellowmen and women. He is particularly adept at going straight to the heart of any matter and teaching his students to think for themselves. Like Socrates, who exhibits many Sagittarian traits, our Sage is apt to be scathing of the opinions of 'authorities' and 'experts' and reluctant to accept any statement without subjecting it to meticulous scrutiny. He is consequently better adapted for the training of mature students than young people who have not yet developed their intellectual powers of comprehension and clear expression. All Sagittarians relish dialectic, encouraging and enjoying argument and discussion for their own sake, the livelier the better. Unfortunately, this may lead them away from the subject in hand, and when criticised for wandering off topic, our argumentative Archer is apt to display the fiery temper for which Sagittarians are renowned. The well-aimed thunderbolts of Jupiter are not to be brushed aside lightly and seldom miss their mark. The temper tantrums of the Sagittarian child are a sight to behold, and many a mother has been driven to distraction by them. The writer knew one lady who, frustrated by her inability to control the temper of her three-year-old, locked him in a room where he couldn't damage the furnishings (or himself) and turned the radio up to full volume so she couldn't hear his shrieking. Nowadays she might well be accused of child abuse despite the fact that it was the naughty child who was doing the abusing! We are happy to say her radical 'treatment' worked for the boy grew up to be a highly respected physicist who was known for never losing his temper.

The composite emblem of the Centaur and the Bow and Arrow reveals an important aspect of the Sagittarian character. The first verse from Longfellow's poem The Arrow and the Song, might have been written with the Sign of the Archer in mind.

"I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight."

The typical Sagittarian will shoot off conversational arrows in much the same way as the poet describes, often provocatively, without any real interest in the replies they elicit. It must also be said that the arrows of the Archer often wound their target. At his worst the primitive Sagittarian, like his Geminian opposite we discussed in part four, is apt to have so many interests — each of which he pursues with feverish enthusiasm — that he fails to bring any of them to a successful conclusion.

In religious matters, Sagittarians are apt to be agnostic or even atheistical. The reason is the excess of mental energy we mentioned earlier which leads even the most mystically-inclined specimens to train their powerful intelligence on the shortcomings and fallacies inherent in all exoteric religions, and find them wanting. In the evolved type, their practical common sense frequently comes to their aid, reminding them that no system of theology devised by the mind of man is likely to represent accurately and adequately the whole truth about the nature of Deity. Selecting and accepting certain premises as foregone conclusions, they may succeed in silencing their own doubts, and in arguing both themselves and others into a fairly orthodox position. Indeed, in the writer's experience many a son or daughter of the Archer develops a genuine and touching faith in religion, often centred on a profound respect for, and love of a Saviour figure such as Christ. Here we see the influence of Jupiter at work who, as we saw earlier, is beneficent, benevolent and kindly — ever ready to hear the prayers of his children, and to grant their requests. This characteristic may lead Sagittarians to take up charitable or welfare work of some kind. They are rarely condescending or judgmental in this work because the evolved type realises that poverty and crime are the outcome of ignorance. Hence they are far more likely to enlighten than to chastise those in their care, for Light, as we mentioned previously, is the keynote of this Sign.

Sagittarians make friends easily. The same frankness and sincerity which characterises their mental pursuits infuses their friendships too. In keeping with the jovial character of Jupiter, even the most undeveloped members of the tribe have an infectious sense of humour which, to coin a phrase, "wins friends and influences people." Samuel Clemens — better known by his pen-name of Mark Twain — born with the Sun, Mars and Venus in Sagittarius is a good example of the type. He is rightly famed for his ability to deflate pretentiousness with a witty riposte, as well as for his frank observation of the foibles of mankind. Jupiter, incidentally, is in the Ninth House in his birth chart trine Mercury in the First; or we might say, the mercurial prankster in cahoots with genial Jove! Mercury rising in Scorpio squared by Uranus in its own Sign of Aquarius added to Pluto trine to the stellium in Sagittarius simply piles on the rapid fire, penetrating wit. Just when his smug victims are basking in a cloud of self-congratulatory euphoria, Twain arrives to burst their hollow bubble with a barbed reminder of the unvarnished truth. This is honest humour, Sagittarian style: frank, blunt, and disquietingly unnerving. Whilst it is almost impossible to single out any one of Twain's memorable bon-mots, the following quotation perhaps best illustrates the Sagittarian style.

"When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years."

The same candour and outspoken sincerity which characterises the friendships of this type enter into their love affairs too. But this, coupled with the fiery passion of which this Sign is capable, can lead to misunderstanding and heartache. Isabelle Pagan, in her inimitable survey of human personality — From Pioneer to Poet — says that the Sagittarian should choose their partner on the mental plane. Otherwise, she argues, "...the youthful son of Jupiter will go light-heartedly forward, beginning as a rule with a so-called friendship which is merely a thinly disguised flirtation, and too often ending in a precipitate engagement which he finds it impossible to fulfil; for this is the type of man that absolutely refuses to go to the altar with a lie on his lips, and tie himself to what he feels to be impossible conditions. In consequence, broken engagements, with all the accompanying pain and humiliation and loss of self-respect, are not uncommon among the sons of Jupiter." To which we should add the flighty daughters of Jupiter, for what is ginger for the gander is certainly sauce for the goose too. The unevolved Sagittarian of either sex is apt to take such blows badly, develop an unhealthy cynicism, and avoid matrimony altogether. It is always regrettable when this happens for the warm nature of this Sign demands emotional fulfilment to complete it. When our Sagittarian suitor is deprived of a mutually satisfying and loving relationship the higher qualities of the Sign fail to blossom and bear fruit. The writer knows of one such case in which a Sagittarian man, having entered rashly into a unsuitable relationship which later broke down in acrimony, ended his life as a bitter and frustrated old bachelor chasing women young enough to be his granddaughters.

If, on the other hand, the arrow of the Archer succeeds in reaching a woman who truly understands, loves and values him — warts and all — the Sagittarian male reaches his highest possibilities; his whole nature expands and radiates the Inner Light which is the essential quality of the Ninth Sign. Such evolved Sagittarians — and we have been fortunate to know a few — make loyal, enthusiastic and very devoted husbands and wives. Isabelle Pagan goes on to say that "the sons of Jupiter demand freedom in their choice of companions — of both sexes — as in all other fields; and the jealous, mistrustful wife, of narrow sympathies, who fancies that she can have her Sagittarian husband 'all to herself' by shutting him off from exchange of ideas with anyone else, will have a very poor time of it. He may shrug his shoulders and submit to her whims, for he is eminently practical as regards conduct, and always inclined to make the best of any situation his own blunders have brought him into; but his thunderbolts of sarcasm will be hurled with increasing frequency, and the marriage, though outwardly decorous, will be no true union, but merely an ill-assorted partnership on the physical plane." The misunderstandings and heartaches mentioned earlier in regard to the male of the species, apply equally to the female. Sagittarian ladies run the same dangers as the men. Isabelle Pagan comments: "Their frank ways with the opposite sex are very often misconstrued — friendship being mistaken for love, and love for friendship." When this happens tragedy is sure to follow unless the woman is brave enough to defuse the situation with humour, passing it off as a joke from beginning to end. After such an experience the Sagittarian maiden may easily acquire a reputation as a shallow-hearted coquette, unable to take either herself or anybody else seriously. Or, like the man mentioned earlier, she may end her days as one of the embittered old maids we read about in 19th century novels!

All this, we hasten add, is what some perceptive minds have called the 'window-dressing' of astrology, for it mostly concerns the human personality, not the immortal soul which we refer to throughout our website as the Higher Mind or Self of a man or a woman. The manifold influences that the stars have upon our bodies and personalities — important as they are — should not blind us to the higher purpose and meaning of the Testament of the Zodiac we have endeavoured to unveil in this investigation. As early as our Proem to part one we told you that each Sign of the Zodiac is a Gate through which we enter this world. During our next life we may enter through a different Gate, or we may pass through the same one several times, or skip one or more Gates. It all depends on where we are upon our individual evolutionary path; what we have learned and what we still need to learn, as well as what we have done or left undone during previous lives on Earth. As we have also seen throughout our investigation, each Sign of the Zodiac, and hence each of the Twelve Gates it opens or closes, has a dominant keynote or quality. It is this and not the influences upon our temporary human personality that provide us with the esoteric meaning of each Sign and the part it plays in our evolution. As we said earlier, The keynote of the Zodiacal Sign of Sagittarius is INNER LIGHT. Just as the Sagittarian is free to shine the penetrating power of his intellect on any subject he chooses, so too does the LIGHT illuminate everything it touches, revealing the inner secrets of Man and the Kosmos. It is the Inner Light that quells the beast in us. It is Light which melts the brimstone of the Pit and makes it into pure white liquid. It is Light which soothes the anguish of the wicked in the Place of Wailing. For the Inner Light of Man is filled with gentleness and clemency, forbearance and compassion which greets repentant Sin with a divine kiss in full acknowledgement of the weakness in all God's children.

Longfellow once said that stars are the thoughts of God in the heavens. They are more than that even, for in their configurations we call constellations they teach us about the Universal Hermetic Laws; the profound Mysteries of life and death, and of good and evil, as we have tried to show you throughout this investigation. Those who know how to read the true Message of the stars and of the planets as they swarm and swim beneath them, may with every justification call themselves wise, but how many today, or at any time, can truly claim this for themselves? Verily, the stars are the Scriptures of the Sky; the sentinels for ever watching from afar, creating balance, giving light unto their own solar systems, and sending a never ceasing stream of life and light in every direction. It has been well said that the ignorant man takes counsel of the stars; but the wise man takes counsel of God, who made the stars. And not only did He make the Stars, but their Rulers also, as we learnt in part three when we told you about the Seven Pole Stars.

The stars are fixed in the meadows of the skies so that we shall not forget the Messages they proclaim. Some stars are like a floral bouquet, showering tender blessings on all. Others sound forth dire warnings not to thoughtlessly squander the opportunities their beneficent brethren bestow. Yet others reveal the mysteries of life and death. Sirius and Antares are two such luminaries. All true magnificence is a manifestation of the Divine Architect of All, and what greater grandeur can the mind of Man conceive than the majesty of the Heavens? Perhaps we see the stars so often every night we are on Earth that we fail to see them at all. If they only appeared on rare occasions, perhaps we would regard them with the adoration and attention they deserve; not as mere "luminous spheres of gas held together by self-gravity," as ignorant science describes them, but as wise decrees from the Divine Source itself.

In the Proem to the next part of this investigation we shall tell you about the first Messenger from God to Man — Adam-Oannes, and the constellation and Zodiacal Sign of Capricorn, the Goat-Fish. In our concomitant Afterword we shall explore the occult meaning of the extra-zodiacal constellations of Aquila or the Eagle, Sagitta or the Arrow, and Delphinus or the Dolphin.

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Constellations

Part Ten: Centaurus and Crux or the Southern Cross.

In our tenth Afterword we explore the extra-zodiacal constellations of Centaurus or the Centaur, and Crux, or the Southern Cross.

CENTAURUS represents a centaur; a creature half human, half horse, which immediately connects it with the Zodiacal Sign of Sagittarius. The centaur is generally depicted about to sacrifice a wild animal in the form of the adjoining constellation Lupus upon the altar, Ara. We discussed the rich symbolism of Lupus and Ara in relation to the conflict between the Higher and lower minds in part eight, so will not repeat ourselves.

Aratus and Eratosthenes said that Lupus was carried in the centaur's hands, and Ptolemy in his Almagest described its hind leg as lying next to the right hand of Centaurus which implies that it was being held by the feet, although most star maps show it as impaled on a pole or spear in the centaur's hands, as we can see in the illustration shown below. But, as we shall see later on, Centaurus has also been depicted very differently.

The most well-known centaur of antiquity is Chiron who was revered by the Greeks as the epitome of wisdom, kindness, and mentorship. Unlike the generality of half-human horses in Greek mythology who were both brutish and ignorant, Chiron was celebrated for his gentle nature and unparalleled knowledge, qualities which earned him the title of "the wisest of all centaurs."

He was especially renowned for his healing abilities, and it has been suggested that his name means "the one who cures with the hands." It is true that the Greek word kheir means 'hand' and that it is related to our word for surgeon, which is derived from the Greek kheirourgia, from kheirourgos, meaning "work done by hand." Moreover, Chiron was regarded as the father of medicine in Greek mythology.

The mythological Chiron is not to be confused with the so-called planet of that name. Initially called an asteroid on its discovery in 1977 it has since been classified as a minor planet even though it exhibits behaviour more typical of a comet. Today it is classified as both a minor planet and a comet — a classic example of science hedging its bets! Estimates of its size vary between 100 and 150 miles in diameter, or about one seventeenth the size of the Moon.

Modern astrologers have adopted this planetoid and connected with the constellation Centaurus who both wounds and is wounded by Lupus, dubbing it the 'wounded healer'. The American astrologer, Liz Greene associates the concepts of victim and perpetrator, and wisdom through suffering with the planetoid Chiron, as well as repetitive painful experiences and 'difficult' emotions such as guilt, shame and rage. As these negative characteristics are already associated with the planets Mars, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto we are dubious about the wisdom of pinning them on a tiny speck of rock which astronomers cannot decide is a planet, an asteroid, or comet!

A more compelling objection to the association of the Centaur with the planetoid is that neither the ancient Egyptian or Babylonian astrologers mention it, despite the fact that being trained occultists, they knew of the existence of the tiniest bodies in our solar system, such as the moons of Mars, as well as the outer planets Uranus, Neptune and Pluto.

It strikes us that the eagerness with which many modern astrologers seize upon such tiny bodies to explain away one or more human peccadilloes seems to be in direct proportion to their woeful ignorance of the esoteric spirit of the science they purport to teach. For let us not forget that Chiron is not the only speck of planetary dust which now appears on all computer-generated charts. It has merely joined an ever-lengthening list of similar objects, such as Ceres, Juno, Vesta, and Pallas.

As we said in our investigation of modern, or psychological Astrology, what little is left of the Royal Art is like a walking corpse from whom the Spirit of Truth has long since fled. But all this is by the way. Below, we reproduce a most curious illustration of the constellation Centaurus taken from the Poeticon Astronomicon, an early star atlas published in 1482, a work attributed to the 1st century B.C. Roman historian and astronomer Hyginus.

Here we see the Centaur not in his normal figuration, but cradling a ram or lamb in one hand while in the other he grasps a lance from which a hare hangs head downwards. A wine-skin or flask dangles from his right wrist. Was this the representation Aratus and Eratosthenes were referring to? Very probably. We wonder what present-day psychological astrologers would make of it? Probably, some glib, post-Freudian hokum about "embracing the shadow self. through deep emotional healing."

Fortunately, Occult Science can do better. The ram in the Centaur's right hand is upside-down. This is the poignant picture of the suffering saviour as a slain lamb. We first encountered the sacrifice of righteousness in the constellation of the Ram in part two of our investigation. If we now turn to Greek mythology we find that during Chiron's fateful encounter with Heracles, an arrow, accidentally shot by the hero, struck the centaur.

Despite his extensive knowledge of healing, Chiron was unable to cure himself. As an immortal, he was doomed to suffer eternally, but he chose to relinquish his immortality and sacrifice himself in order to free Prometheus who, as we learned in our analysis of Shelley's immortal poem, had been punished by Zeus for bringing the gift of fire to humanity.

The representation of the constellation Lupus as a hare or rabbit tied to the lance of the centaur is what makes this particular illustration so very interesting. As we pointed out in the Afterword to part eight, the depiction of Lupus as a wolf is a very late addition. The Greeks named it therion which, as we also explained previously, is the Greek word for beast — any beast.

For we must not lose sight of the fact that the Centaur, like Sagittarius, is a the figuration of a being with two natures, one bestial and the other human. The Arabic name of this constellation is Al Beze, meaning the despised. This reminds us of the libretto from Handel's Messiah, taken almost word for word from the lament of the prophet Isaiah.

"He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." (Isaiah 53:3-5). This is a perfect description of the suffering of Chiron figured as the Centaur.

Finally, what are we to make of the wine-skin dangling from the Centaur's right wrist? The Greek astronomer Eratosthenes tells us that he is about to pour an offering upon Ara the altar, which constellation we also discussed in our Afterword to part eight. In alternative star maps the Centaur grasps a thyrsus in his left hand and a wine-skin in his right.

A thyrsus was a staff of fennel wrapped in ivy and vine-leaves, tipped with a pine cone. Such wands were carried by the followers of Dionysus and Dionysus was not only the pupil of Chiron but also the god of wine-making and religious ecstasy. Wine-making, then as now, being an esoteric synonym for the acquisition of wisdom.

How perfectly all this fits in with the symbolism of Chiron, the wounded Greek Hero mentioned earlier. In this constellation we see a vivid picture of the tests and trials of initiation which every teacher of the Eternal Verities has to suffer in order to bring their message of Light and Love to this disbelieving world. It also links up with the preceding Signs of Scorpio, Libra and the extra-Zodiacal constellations associated with them in our investigation.

The Centaur is also found in the Egyptian Zodiac, where he is described as the Armour-Bearer of Osiris, whilst in the Hindu Zodiac he is the progenitor, so to say, of our Sagittarius. The constellation contains thirty-five stars. Two of the 1st magnitude, one of the 2nd, six of the 3rd and nine of the 4th, which, together with the four bright stars in the Southern Cross we can see between the legs of the centaur in the star map below, make a brilliant show in the night sky of southern latitudes.

CRUX or the Southern Cross, is the smallest of all the extra-Zodiacal constellations, containing just five stars visible to the naked eye. Like Lupus it was considered to be part of Centaurus by ancient astronomers and was only recognised as a separate constellation much later. Owing to the effects of precession Crux has not been visible to observers in the British Isles since about 3,000 B.C. Despite this, the poet Dante sings of Crux in the opening canto of Purgatorio.

"Right-hand I turned, and, setting me to spy
That alien pole, beheld four stars, the same
The first men saw, and since, no living eye;
It seemed the heavens exulted in their flame —
O widowed world beneath the northern pole,
Forever famished of the sight of them!"

The 'alien pole' is the south celestial pole which was foreign to Dante, being far removed from the poet in Florence. The 'first men' are interpreted as the mythical Adam and Eve before their expulsion from the Garden of Eden. However, Dante, under the afflatus of Divine Inspiration, may well have meant the Atlantean Race who would have seen Crux shining brightly above their island continent some 20,000 years ago.

It was not until the sixteenth century had dawned that European navigators, rounding the Cape of Good Hope for the first time, and entering the southern ocean, brought back the news of a "most wondrous cross more glorious than all the constellations of the heavens," as we can see in the image below.

In The Golden Star, which many of you will have read, the author devotes a whole chapter to the esoteric symbolism of the cross. Some people believe it is purely a Christian symbol, but as John Temple explains in The Search for Truth, the cross was not adopted by the Church until many centuries after the death of Jesus. The cross can be traced back into the very depths of the unfathomable past. Its Mystery deepens rather than clears, as we find it on the statues of Easter Island, in ancient Egypt, in Central Asia, and engraved on rocks in pre-Christian Scandinavia and throughout the Americas. In short we find it everywhere.

The deepest secrets of the cross can only be unveiled by the part it played and still plays in the Mysteries of Initiation. Theon of Smyrna, an initiate of the Eleusinian Mysteries and father of the famous philosopher Hypatia, divided these mysteries into five, distinct parts. The first part consisted of purification, by which was meant not merely physical and moral cleanliness, but mental purity. That is, the purification of the mind by sweeping away wrong thinking and wrong ideas, leading to a clearer apperception of Truth.

The second part — which Theon calls "the reception of the sacred rite" — consisted of preliminary instruction in the Occult Sciences, while the third part, which he denominated "epopteia," meaning 'seership' or 'clear vision' was devoted to the revelation of the higher mysteries. We might compare these parts to a university course, each year being successively harder and more demanding than the last.

These three parts were followed by the fourth. This, as we may read in The Golden Star "is always a crucifixion, for it seems as if all friends forsake the Initiate for a time, and he stands alone in his grief; but this part of the path is also his glorification — when in the midst of traitors, who twist his every word and distort his every act; when all good things are taken from him, and all his beloved ones desert him; when a shower of abuse descends upon him, and his holiness is despised and rejected; and when he even wavers in his own inner belief in the Love of his Father in Heaven, and seems to be cut off from all Divine Inspiration and comfort — when, in spite of all these tribulations, he still keeps his faith and turns to God, then comes the moment in which he is truly glorified, and the Father stretches out a loving hand which raises up the sufferer and translates him from the path of blindness and despair to that of Sight and Bliss.

"The agony of the Cross has then become the beatification of the Higher Mind and Soul, and a choir of jubilation resounds and echoes in all the Heavens, for the Initiate has learned to stand apart from all external things and conditions, and he knows triumphantly that he is One with the Logos and that all else is illusion and temptation. The Cross has been conquered and the shining Pathway stretches straight before him and continues for all Eternity, leading from Glory to Glory." This constituted the fifth part of the Mysteries. Theon called this "friendship and interior communion with God," adding that "this was the last and most awful of all the Mysteries."

We find graphic confirmation of Theon's account of the fourth initiation from an unusual and unexpected source — ancient Ireland. In The Round Towers of Ireland, published in 1898, the Irish classicist, Henry O'Brien (1808-1853) includes a most remarkable figure of the crucifixion which we reproduce below.

He tells us that the distinctive kilt or philibeg worn by the figure was unknown among the Welsh and Irish. Nor, he contends, is it a Celtic costume either, but belonged to the Tuatha-Dé-Danaan, a people who ruled Ireland many thousands of years ago but are considered 'mythical' by most modern authorities.

O'Brien writes: "There was no remnant, therefore, of the kilt to be met with in Ireland, either in the sixth century, or in the twelfth, or indeed for many centuries before the Christian era at all." Moreover, he argues that this effigy could not have been intended to represent the Christian Saviour, as it is lacking the appellation INRI common to such figures and the Jewish crown of thorns. In place of these the figure is wearing the ancient crown of Iranian Royalty similar to those worn during the Achaemenid Empire.

O'Brien contends that the figure represents Gautama Buddha, but it might equally well represent any great Initiate who has passed through the mystical fourth Initiation. In confirmation of this we cite the evidence of writers such as Anna Wilkes, who in Ireland the Ur of the Chaldees, wrote: "Evidently the inhabitants of Erin [Ireland], previous to the arrival of St. Patrick, were well acquainted with the cross as a symbol of the realization of a hope of resurrection impressed upon them by their Druid teachers."

Within the Christian Church the first three Initiations are symbolised by the Birth, the Baptism, and the Transfiguration; and the ancient Egyptian formula for the fourth runs: "Then shall the candidate be bound upon the wooden cross, he shall die, he shall be buried, and shall descend into the underworld; after the third day he shall be brought back from the dead."

Note that during the initiation ritual in Egypt, the candidate was bound upon a cross — not nailed as in the literal Christian distortion of the symbolical mystery of initiation! The same practise was followed among the Maya of Central America as we can see in the illustration shown below in which the candidate is bound in a cruciform posture on a wooden frame. The frame is in the form of a square, further emphasising the triumph of the spiritual nature over the material.

It is for this reason, as well as many others discussed in Vision 7 of The Golden Star, that the sign of the cross has been venerated and used in every part of the world since the earliest times. It is the mystery of the cross and all it stands for that is engraved upon the Heavens for all to see in the stars that form constellation Crux. Long ago, as we said earlier, it appeared in the shape of a true cross over the island continent of Atlantis. When it was seen in a certain angle there, it meant that the life-giving rains were on the way, renewing all nature.

In our next Afterword we will examine the extra-zodiacal constellations of Aquila or the Eagle, Sagitta or the Arrow, and Delphinus or the Dolphin. Meanwhile, we hope that you have enjoyed the tenth of our surveys of the hidden messages of the Stars.

occult mysteries