This lecture builds on my July Metropolitan Study Group presentation on Martinez de Pasqually and the transmission of powers through his lineage.
The critical importance of sourcing primary material from eighteenth-century Franc-maçonnerie has always proved difficult for the anglophone scholar. There is nothing new in this. Yet, it has been the least of my difficulties in bringing The Lessons of Lyons of the Élus Coëns to you in English. This is because my research led to some considerable soul-searching on my part, particularly concerning the occult doctrine of spiritual evolution. Indeed, and as a result, I became more acutely aware of my own mortality on the one hand, and of the inherent spiritual nature or immortal quality of our species on the other. I am sure many of you will relate to this disquietude since, in nature, there is always a dichotomy. As a result, my paper today focuses on Martinezism insofar as it influences my particular journey within this context.
Background
My earliest experiences of the numinous are shrouded in time and obfuscated by the frustrations of fading, distant recollection as I age. However, they are a critical part of the story leading to this talk today.
By and large, my childhood was a happy one. However, when I was about four, maybe younger, I experienced the appearance of a hate filled entity glaring a few feet from where I lay in bed. This 'thing' was humanoid, solid and quite real. Children. of course, imagine all sorts of things, but that encounter has always been memorable. It was not sleep paralysis. Later, when I was nineteen and at university, I had an unsolicited peak experience in which I became overwhelmed with love and an absolute assurance of the existence and proximity of God. Indeed, this epiphany set a course for my life. Such experiences often lead to other psychic phenomena, and shortly afterwards, I experienced a Bible being thrown from a shelf in my room. I next saw an apparition of a suspended, luminescent face observing me. I was wide awake. The closest I can describe it, is that it had a similitude to a lit jack-o-lantern, although it was an actual head. Although this happened to me but the once, I will neither forget the vacuous empty spaces for the spectre's eyes, nor its silent grimace. Other family members have had experiences with apparitions, often at the passing of loved ones, but this was not that, and its appearance and the mysterious energy emitting light from it long remained an enigma. It certainly did not feel benevolent. For example, on the night of my grandfather's death in 1970, my mother observed a disembodied head emitting a white light above my sleeping father. This apparition remained for several hours. The problem, of course, is that any experience of the numinous always fills us with dread, regardless of what happens, because we have been hard-wired that way (the tiger in the trees). Not long afterwards, I had the misfortune to experience an auditory phenomenon when a deep male voice exclaimed that I was "going to hell." No one was present in the room with me. This clairaudience has only very rarely occurred since. Nevertheless, the experience was reminiscent if not identical to the appearance of a similar spectre described by Dion Fortune in her 1930 semi-autobiographical Psychic self-Defence: “I saw the head of Miss L reduced to the size of an orange, floating in the air at the foot of my bed, and snapping its teeth at me.”
Over the years many remarkable synchronicities have occurred, involving a repeat number of twenty-three. I can assure you that numerophobia should be excluded as the cause. Some years ago, there were strange, inexplicable occurrences in our home while our daughter was an adolescent. We experienced ghostly knocks, bangs, crashes and what sounded like footsteps running about upstairs when no one else was home. The phenomenon continued for many months before gradually decreasing. This was not mental dissonance; the occurrences were observed by visitors, much like other poltergeist activities documented since ancient times. What is more, the events were inconsistent. As a child I had always been interested in the paranormal, which developed into an interest in religion as I matured. I read theology at university ,and aspired to a career in the Church (which, looking back, I am grateful did not happen). I later found solace in the materialist poetry of Philip Larkin and the atheism portrayed in H. P. Lovecraft's fiction. I identified, I suspect, with the sense of spiritual failure in these writers, so often described as the "dark night of the soul." My interest in them led me to visit their graves on pilgrimages to locations as diverse as Providence, Rhode Island. Even Hull, where I was fortunate to be given a private tour of Larkin's offices at the university and even sat at the great man's desk. Shakespeare and Rudolph Steiner spoke to my soul in a lasting and meaningful way too (and who were not forlorn atheists like Larkin and Lovecraft). My foray into other traditions, such as Buddhism and kriya yoga, had ultimately proved pointless. I developed - and still have - a profound respect for Steiner. However, I cannot say I have ever felt the same about Anthroposophy (and, to paraphrase Gandhi, "I like your Steiner but not your Anthroposophists!"). Although I momentarily dabbled in the Higher School of Michael, that did not work for me.
However, I then came across A. E. Waite's writings on the Secret Tradition, and through this inevitably encountered Louis-Claude de Saint-Martin and, eventually, the enigmatic Martinez de Pasqually. Before long, my interest extended beyond Waite's volumes, whose photograph still graces my desk in a dreary high street solicitors' office in St Ives. Perhaps there was a purpose in my masonic journey after all, for it was a path I had taken in search of discovery.
Pasqually
I mention all of this because of the general doctrine of Pasqually. As set out in his Treatise on the Reintegration of Beings, man was created in a body of light impervious to deterioration and death. His task was to replace the creative role of the evil spirits expelled from heaven and contain them. At the Fall, however, Adam succumbed to his desires and became a mortal, material being of a dual spiritual and physical nature. Martinez de Pasqually often referred to direct communications with angels and spirits in his letters. These experiences may seem unusual, if not unnatural, to those unfamiliar with them, but we instinctively know that they are not. Pasqually's followers claimed to have encountered him after his physical death. Indeed, the late Robert Ambelain researched an account: "The day of his death, he [Pasqually] appeared to his wife, seeming to cross the room diagonally, and she immediately cried out, "My God! My husband is dead!" later, the news reached France, and the (the time) was exact." (The History & Origins of Martinism). The detailed recollection of Pasqually's almost daily manifestations to the Abbe Fournie is described in A.E. Waite's Life of Louis Claude de Saint-Martin. There is then a sense in which some form of spiritualism lies at the heart of all genuine occult systems; that, and the confluence of good and evil in our world.
As I read the Treatise, the biblical Book of Genesis - in which I had previously held little particular interest - sprang to life, and the codification of its concealed mysteries began to peel away. This, I must emphasise, was a process, not an epiphany. From then on, the Christianised theurgy of Martinez de Pasqually became a less threatening or inherently heretical path of research contrasting with my own Anglo-Catholic belief and value system. Researching Pasqually's teachings on the Fall of Adam, the nature of the material Universe we occupy, and the path to Reintegration, became an all-consuming quest for me. My starting point was the Treatise, which I have spoken about at length previously. Due to the sheer scope of the subject, it was agreed with the Metropolitan Study Group co-ordinator, Alistair Lees, that I would present a second paper on The Lessons of Lyons at a future meeting. Rather than presenting that paper today, I prefer to disseminate a copy translated into English of the meetings held at Lyons, France, in 1774 to the delegates. The lessons from 1775 and 1776 must wait a little longer. Hopefully, it will be completed over the next year, with a view to publication in 2018.
I joined Freemasonry to explore what it might tell me about the Secret Tradition, and because of the anti-Freemasonry of an esoteric friend of mine. What is it about Masonry that frightens people so much? Whatever it is, it makes so many of us perennially curious! Regardless, I had felt so let down by the several spiritual paths I had followed that I sought to give it a chance. It, too, proved fruitless, but it hinted at the nature of the world beyond, concealed as it is in the metaphors and allegories of masonry. Without it, I would not have discovered the beautiful cosmogony contained in Pasqually's teachings. Although not a masonic order, the Élus Coëns were recruited by and large from within Freemasonry, and its junior degrees reflect it. While the lessons, dating from 1774, do not add a great deal or flesh out Pasqually's general doctrine, they shed helpful light on the symbolism in Freemasonry. By 1772, Pasqually had set up Élus Coëns temples in several locations in France and was actively involved in guiding them. By the time he left for Saint-Domingue, he had established Élus Coëns temples at Montpellier, Foix, La Rochelle, Versailles, Metz, and Lyons, among other cities.
The Lessons of Lyons
Pasqually's Élus Coëns left an indelible impression on French Freemasonry and worldwide Martinism. He had worked tirelessly for the restoration of man's inner divinity and eventual reintegration with God. The fraternity practised a system of white magic (theurgy) aimed at recovering humanity's original, spiritual memory.
The origins of the lessons building on Pasqually's teachings, occur in 1771, when Louis-Claude de Saint-Martin began living with Willermoz's family n Lyons, and joined the Coën temple there. Along with Jean Jacques du Roy d'Hauterive, the group recorded handwritten notes of their meetings. These notes, known as The Lessons of Lyons, were made during their twice-weekly meetings. The Lessons have not been published in English, and the source is the French transcripts published by Robert Amadou in Les Lecons de Lyon aux Élus Coëns (1999). The primary sources are the collection of manuscripts held at the Municipal Library in Lyons, which are mainly derived from materials belonging to Saint-Martin's papers collated by Papus.
The group continued to gather for nearly two years after Pasqually left for Saint-Domingue, receiving letters from him and acting upon his directives. The notes were never intended to provide a comprehensive outline of his general doctrine, but were made as aide memos. It is important to note that the lessons were finished after Pasqually died in 1774 when some other temples abandoned them. The Treatise itself was incomplete when Pasqually passed away. By early 1775, Saint-Martin, d'Hauterive, and Willermoz must have learned that Pasqually was no longer alive and that they would no longer receive further guidance from him. They also understood and accepted that they had to acquire their Master's esoteric knowledge and powers for themselves through training, as these powers could not be transferred. The lessons are, therefore, driven by a dedicated group eager to expand on their Master's teachings in his absence. According to Papus, Willermoz made a breakthrough in invoking the mysterious entity known only as La Chose around 1785.
We know that Adam was created in the image and likeness of God, but only insofar as his "spiritual faculties" were concerned. Therefore, the overarching theme of The Lessons of Lyons is that man's first work - his duty - is to labour for his reconciliation with God. It is reaching where he should be after death releases the soul from its physical prison. This involves working towards the Reintegration of all of Adam's progeny, and a vital part of that is the work of Pasqually's knights in binding the evil entities so that the work of the Repairer (Christ) can become more fully effective in the material world. In this system, humanity was mortally hindered by the Fall into material space and time. The lessons reiterate that man, despite his Fall, "always has the same work to fulfil for which he was destined and must first work for his reconciliation."
Willermoz emphasised this in the lessons by reference to the floor work conducted by the Order, such that: "this is the only means of re-establishing man's great powers over the West, North and South and to return to correspondence with his quaternary, to molest the perverse spirits without ceasing, by refusing them their traps and destroying their evil plans without ceasing, and at last to take back from them the authority which was reserved to him, because divine mercy forever wishes to do good in their favour. It will be man's communication with them alone that they will conceive that desire since man has been established for this purpose, and the immutable decrees of God must have their fulfilment."
What, then, of the insights into Craft Freemasonry that the lessons reveal and which I spoke of earlier? And what of seemingly unrelated psychic experiences? A central recurring theme in The Lessons of Lyons is that of the Solomonic Temple. The dimensions and characteristics of the Temple are, of course, in the last resort, an integral part of the occult numerical system devised by Freemasonry. However, what can be said with a degree of certainty is that the lessons focus on the body of man as a temple, and the authors of the notes go into great detail identifying that temple with the particular Temple built by Solomon. Willermoz wrote, "The body of man is a lodge, or a temple, which is the repetition of the general, particular and universal temple." The Temple symbolism is inevitably carried over from the Treatise, wherein Pasqually taught that the Temple of Solomon, on which all Freemasonry is founded, ranks as one of seven temporal and spiritual Temples. The Temples are each founded on seven columns and are allegoric of the seven gifts of the Spirit accorded to man in principle, which the faculty of action can reinvigorate. It is a metaphor of the seven Fountain Spirits existing within and beyond our material form. They represent attributes or characteristics found in all living things, and which in turn are influenced by disembodied good and evil intelligences. Saint-Martin states: "There is not a grain of earth which is not a temple, since it contains a power, but man is the true temporal divine Temple, and since it is destroyed, it is a matter of rebuilding it. That is our task."
Harmonizing opposite dualities does not mean that the corresponding forces are destroyed or objectively defeated. On the contrary, it means that they become balanced and are thereby creative. This is one explanation for all psychic phenomena, since the qualities open our spiritual eyes, where we can see beyond the materiality beset us. Temples are, by definition, places sanctified to worship a god or gods. Temples serve as places for private and public worship and for making sacrifices and offerings to the deities they are dedicated to. They are considered places of action, symbolising the idea that the initiate is perfecting a temple in himself, which is simultaneously beyond only the self. There is great precision and measurement provided in The Lessons of Lyons, suggesting that these structures appear in Craft masonry for a specific reason, notwithstanding that Freemasonry fails to make clear to its initiates that they are participating in theurgical actions which are, in fact, nothing less than their first steps in reconciliation with God. The history of Israel and the theurgy practised in the Temple of Solomon created the necessary conditions for the Incarnation, considered the greatest of all Christian mysteries, enabling man's Reintegration and making our journey worthwhile.
(Copies of The Lessons of Lyons in English were distributed to delegates after the meeting. Fra. Alistair Lees confirming that the finalised translation would be published by the SRIA).
(c) M.R. Osborne, 2017
