A Rosicrucian Poem Resting in Péladan’s Notebooks Over One Hundred Years Newly Rediscovered

French occultists of the Belle Époque often began their careers pursuing literary endeavours, and Stanislas de Guaïta (1861-1897), known as the ‘Prince of the Rosicrucians’, was no exception. Gripped by the Romanticism of his day, Guaïta published his Oiseaux de passage: rimes fantastiques . . . (Birds of passage: fantastic rhymes) in 1881, followed by La muse noir: heures de soleil (The black muse: sunny hours, 1883) and Rosa mystica (Mystic rose, 1885). It was not, however, until his association with Joseph-Aimé (Joséphin) Péladan (1858 -1918) in 1884 and his reading of Péladan’s La Vice Suprême (The supreme vice, 1884) that Guaïta’s active pursuits in fin-de-siècle occultism began.

Péladan, himself an eccentric poet and Roman Catholic, claimed to be the successor to a Toulouse branch of the Rose-Croix, and at the end of 1887, Péladan, Guaïta and Papus (Gérard Encausse, 1865-1916) founded an ‘ Ordre Kabbalistique de la Rose-Croix’. Directed by six known members (Péladan, Papus, Paul Adam, Barlet, then Sédir and the Abbé Alta [1842-1933]) and six unknown ones, Péladan, later quit the Rose-Croix Kabbalistique (1890-1891) to create a branch that was ‘devoutly’ Catholic and more aesthetically focussed – the ‘Catholic Order of the Rosy Cross of Temple and Grail’. A very public spat ensued, and an amused Parisian press dubbed the fight the ‘war of the roses’. In poor health, embittered and completely reliant on morphine, Guaïta later returned home from Paris to die at age 36 in his parent’s château.

Yet, despite their strained relationship, it would appear Péladan, who achieved his greatest successes organising the Salons de la Rose-Croix featuring prominent symbolist painters of the day, as well as the composer Erik Satie (1866-1925), still held the memory of his one time friend dear. Tucked away within the pages of Ms-13412 of the Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal, I recently found a beautifully evocative alchemical poem of Guaïta’s addressed to Péladan, with ‘fraternal hommage’. Undated, and clearly a poignant keepsake, Guaïta’s powerful ode to alchemical transmutation has rested in the archives of Péladan’s personal notebooks for more than a hundred years. I provide here the first English translation of the poem, and humbly acknowledge the assistance of my friend Gabriel McCaughry with the translation.

Initiation – by Guaïta

Soul without faith, my soul! O’ Sister of the foolish Virgins,

Prostituted Soul, of impure scepticism,

Mourning dove & widow of the azure,

Eagless tamed to frivolous serfdoms!

Scorn the pagan temples & heavy jewels

My soul, take flight of a century in which nothing is

certain, To the distant Messiah & his future reign

Whose glory is inscribed at the heart of old symbols.

For the Word spoke, but only a few heard it;

The path was traced, but many have lost it.

Yet, Babel is no longer far away — corrupter of languages…

Calcine your crucible under the fires of the One Love,

And know, elated Adept, from the bosom of the old gangues,

How to make pure Gold germinate at the dawn of day.

Thank you to bro Stewart Clelland for this gift to our readers!

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