THE ASCENT OF
MAN
By Henry Drummond
1891-
1895
Introduction 1 Evolution In General
Page
9
"The last romance
of Science, the most daring it has ever tried to pen, is the
Story of the Ascent of Man."
THE ASCENT OF
MAN
J. Bronowski
1973
Page
162 1
+ 6 + 2 =
9
" Knowledge makes prodigious journeys, and what seems to us
a leap in time often turns out to be a long progression from
place to place, from one city to another."
"...As one example among many, the mathematics of Pythagoras
has not come to us directly. It fired the imagination of the
Greeks, but the place where it was formed into an orderly
system was the Nile city, Alexandria. The man who made the
system, and made it famous was Euclid, who probably took it
to Alexandria around
300
BC.
Euclid evidently
belonged to the pythagorean tradition. When a listener asked
him what was the practical use of some theorem, Euclid is
reported to have said contemptuously to his slave, 'He wants
to profit from learning give him a penny'.
The reproof was probably adapted from a motto of the
Pythagorean brotherhood, which translates roughly as 'A
diagram and a step, not a diagram and a penny'-
'a
step' being a step in knowledge or what I have called the
Ascent of Man.
The impact of Euclid as a model of mathematical
reasoning was immense and lasting. His book Elements of
Geometry was trans- lated and copied more than any
other book exept the Bible right
/ Page 164 /
into modern times..."
"... The other science practised in Alexandria
in the centuries around the birth of Christ was astronomy.
Again, we can catch the drift of history in the undertow of
legend: when the Bible says that three wise men followed a
star to Bethlehem, there sounds in the story the echo of an
age when wise men are starg-azer The secret of the heavens
that wise men looked for in antiquity was read by a Greek
called Claudius Ptolemy, working in Alexandria about AD 150.
His work came to Europe in Arabic texts, for the original
Greek manuscript editions were largely lost, some in the
pillage of the great library of Alexandria by Christian
zealots in AD 389, others in the wars and invasions that
swept the Eastern Mediterranean throughout the
Dark Ages.
The model of the heavens that
Ptolemy constructed is wonder fully complex, but it begins
from a simple analogy. The moon revolves around the earth,
obviously; and it seemed just as obvious to Ptolemy that the
sun and planets do the same.
( The ancients thought of the moon and the sun as planets)
The Greeks had believed that the perfect form of motion is a
circle, and so Ptolemy made the planets run on circles
running in their turn on other circles. To us that scheme of
cycles and epicycles seems both simple-minded and
artificial. Yet in fact the system was a beautiful and a
workable invention, and an article of faith for Arabs and
Christians right through the Middle Ages It lasted for
fourteen hundred years, which is a great deal longer than
any more recent scientific theory can be expected to survive
without radical change."
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"The symbolic year of
destiny was just ahead, 1543. In that year, three books were
published that changed the mind of Europe: the anatomical
drawings of Andreas Vesalius; the first translation of the
Greek mathematics and physics of Archimedes; and the book by
Nicholas Copernicus, The Revolution of the Heavenly
Orbs, which put the sun at the centre of heaven and
created what is now called the scientific Revolution."
Page 196
" In the middle of all sits the sun Enthroned. In this most
beautiful temple,
could
we place this luminary in any better position from which he
can
illuminate
the whole at once? He is rightly called the Lamp, the Mind,
the
Ruler
of the Universe: Hermes Trimegistus names him the Visible
God,
/ Page
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Sophocles' Electra calls him the All-Seeing. So the sun sits
as upon a royal
throne, ruling his children, the planets which circle around
him
THE BOOK OF THE
DEAD
E.A.Wallis Budge
1899
Pages
397
/398
"Text:
(1) THE CHAPTER OF HAVING EXISTENCE NIGH UNTO
RA.
1"
And
I say, 'On every road
"and
among (11) these millions of years is
Ra
the lord,
"and his path is
in the fire;
and they go round
about
"behind him, and they go round about behind
him
The Sirius
Mystery
Robert K.G. Temple
Page
98 9
x 8 =
72
"(Re
is another form of the more familiar
Ra.)"
Hereonin, yonder scribe inserted the
word PRAYER
Page 104
13th L/D "...G.
R. S. Mead, at the beginning of his work Thrice greatest
Hermes,
explains fully what 'the Trismegistic Literature'
is. He calls it Tris-megistic' instead of by its earlier
designation 'Hermetic' (from the name of the Greek god
Hermes) in order to distinguish it from other less
interesting writings such as the Egyptian Hermes prayers and
also the ' Hermetic Alchemical
Literature'."
Page 105
"...Mead quotes an
Egyptian magic papyrus, this being an uncontested Egyptian
document which he compares to a passage in the Tris-megistic
literature: 'I invoke thee, Lady Isis, with whom the good
Daimon doth unite, He who is Lord in the perfect black'
34"
"...he cited this magic papyrus in order to shed comparitive
light on some extra-ordinary passages in a Trismegistic
treatise he translated which has the title 'The Virgin of
the World'. In his comments on the magic papyrus Mead says:
'It is natural to make the Agathodaimon ("the Good Daimon")
of the Papyrus refer to Osiris; for indeed it is one of his
most frequent designations. Morever it is precisely Osiris
who is pre-eminently connected with the so-called
"underworld", the un-seen world, the "mysterious dark". He
is lord there. . . and indeed one of the ancient
mystery-sayings was precisely, "Osiris is a dark God.'
"
What a majestic way to treat eyes, said the scribe.
Page 105
"...' The Virgin of the
world' is an extraordinary Trismegistic
treatise in the form of a dialogue between the
hierophant (high priest) as spokesman for Isis
and the neophyte who represents Horus. Thus the priest
instructing the initiate is portrayed as Isis instructing
her son Horus.
The treatise begins by
claiming it is 'her holiest discourse' which 'so speaking
Isis doth pour forth'. There is, throughout, a b emphasis on
the hierarchical principle of lower and higher beings in the
universe - that earthly mortals are presided over at
intervals by other, higher beings who interfere in Earth's
affairs when things here become hopeless, etc. Isis says in
the treatise: 'It needs must, therefore, be the the less
should give way to the greater mysteries.' What she is to
disclose to Horus is a great mystery. Mead describes it as
the mystery practised by the arch-hierophant. It was the
'degree' (here degree' is in the sense
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of 'degree' in the
Masonic 'mysteries, of earlier times) 'called the Dark
Mystery" or "Black Rite".It was a rite performed only for
those who were judged worthy of it after long probation in
lower degrees, something of a far more sacred character,
apparently than the instruction in the mysteries enacted in
the light.'
Mead adds: I would suggest,
therefore, that we have here a reference to the most
esoteric institution of the Isaic tradition . . . ', meaning
of course 'Isis-tradition', and not to be confused with the
book of Isaiah in the bible (so that perhaps it is best for
us not to use the word Isiac). It is
in attempting to explain the mysterious 'Black Rite' of Isis
at the highest degree of the Egyptian mysteries that Mead
cited the magic papyrus which I have already quoted. He
explains the black Rite as being connected with Osiris being
a
'dark god' who is Lord of the perfect black' which is the
unseen world, the mysterious black..."
How To Enjoy
Life
Sidney Dark
1924 "
Flowers, that grow beautiful in the sunlight, whither and
die in the darkness of a cellar"
The Sirius
Mystery
Robert K.G. Temple
Page
106
continues
" 'This
treatise ' The Virgin of the World' describes a personage
called Hermes who seems to represent a race of beings who
taught earthly mankind the arts of civilization after which:
And thus, with charge unto his kinsman of the Gods to keep
sure watch, he mounted to the Stars'.
Page
113
Chapter
Three
"We must return to the
treatise 'The Virgin of the World' This treatise is quite
explicit in saying that Isis and Osiris were sent to help
the earth by giving primitive mankind the arts of
civilization: And
Horus thereon said: 'How was it mother, then that Earth
received God's Efflux ?'
And Isis
said:
'I may not
tell the story of (this) birth: for it is not permitted to
describe the origin of thy descent,O Horus (son) of mighty
power, lest afterwards the way-of-birth of the immortal gods
should be known unto men - except so far that God the
Monarch, the uni-versal Orderer and Architect, sent for a
little while thy mighty sire Osiris, and the mightiest
goddess Isis, that they might help the world , for all
things needed them.
Tis they
who filled life full of life. 'Tis they who caused the
savagery of mutual slaughtering of men to cease. 'Tis they
who hallowed the precincts to the Gods their ancestors and
spots for holy rites. 'Tis they who gave to men laws, food
and shelter. Etc.'
They are
also described as teaching men how to care for the dead in a
specifically Egyptian way, which inclines one to wonder how
a Greek could conceivably have written this unless during
the Ptolemaic period:
''Tis they who
taught men how to wrap up those who ceased to live, as they
should
be.' Now
anyone knows this is Egyptian and not Greek practice. What
Neoplatanist would include such a statement unless it were
actually taken from an early source which be used, and which
had been written by someone actually living in Egypt?
The
treatsie ends this long section with:
''Tis they alone who,taught by Hremes in God's hidden codes,
became the authors of the arts, and sciences, and all
pursuits which men do practice, and givers of their
laws.
''Tis they who, taught by Hermes that the things below have
been disposed by God to be in sympathy with things above,
established
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on the earth the sacred
rites over which the mysteries in Heaven preside...."
''Tis they who, knowing the destructibility of (mortal)
frames, devised the grade of prophets, in all things
perfected, in order that no prophet who stretched forth his
hands unto the Gods, should be in ignorance of anything,
that magic and philosophy should feed the soul, and medicine
preserve the body when it suffered
pain.
'And having done all this , my son Osiris and myself
perceiving that the world was (now) quite full, were
thereupon demanded back by those who dwell in Heaven . .
.'
And in the treatise Isis
claims that the 'Black Rite' honours her and 'gives
perfection'. It is also concerned with the mysterious thing
called 'Night'- 'who weaves her webb with rapid light though
it be less than Sun's'. It is made plain that 'Night' is not
the night sky because it moves in the Heaven along with 'the
other mysteries in turn that move in Heaven, with ordered
motions and with perids of times, with certain hidden
influences bestowing order on things below and co-increasing
them' We must scrutinize
the description of what is labelled 'Night' in this
treatise. This description makes it perfectly clear that
'Night' is not 'night', but a code word. For it is said to
have light though it be less than the sun's'.
Meanwhile within that other reality of The Magic
Mountain, continued another story. The story
of toiL, within a tale.
At which the all and sundries of the blindfold, eyeless
shadows, held on for dear life to yonder slivering thread of
gold.

The Magic
Mountain
Thomas Mann
Page 88
" Hans Castorp went into
his cousin's room. The corridor floor, with its strip of
narrow coco matting,billowed beneath his feet, but this,
apart from its singularity was not un-pleasant. He sat down
in Joachim's great flowered arm-chair -
There was one just like it in his own room - and lighted his
Maria Mancini. It tasted like glue, like coal, like anything
but what it should taste like. Still he smoked on, as he
watched Joachim making ready for his cure, putting on his
house jacket, then an old overcoat, then, armed with his
night-lamp and Russian primer, going into the balcony. He
turned on the light, lay down with his thermometer in his
mouth, and began, with astonishing dex-terity to wrap
himself in the two camel's-hair rugs that were spread out
over his chair. Hans Castorp looked on with honest
admiration for his skill. He flung the covers over him, one
after the other: first from the left side, all their length
up to his shoulders, then from the right side, so that he
formed when finished, a neat compact parcel, out of which
stuck only his head shoulders and arms.
"How well you do that" Hans Castorp
said. That's the practice I've had Joachim answered, holding
the thermometer between his teeth in order to speak. "You'll
learn. To-morrow we must certainly get you a pair of rugs.
You can use them afterwards at home, and up here they are
indispensable, particularly as you have no
sleeping-sack."
"I shan't lie out on the
balcony at night," Hans Castorp de-clared. "I can tell you
that at once. It would seem perfectly weird to me.
Everything has its limits. I must draw the line somewhere,
since I'm really only up here on a visit. Iwill sit here
awhile and smoke my cigar in the regular way. It tastes
vile, but I know it's good, and that will have to do me for
to-day. It is close on
nine
- it isn't even quite
nine
yet, more's the
pity - but when it is half past, that is late enough for a
man to go to bed at least half-way
decently."
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A shiver ran over him,
then several, one after the other. Hans Castorp sprang up
and ran to the thermometer on the wall, as if to catch it
in flagrante. According to the mercury, there were
fifty degrees of heat in the room. He clutched the radiator;
it was cold and dead. He murmered something incoherent, to
the effect that it was a scandal to have no heating, even if
it was August. It wasn't a question of the name of the
month, but of the temperature that obtained, which was such
that actually he was as cold as a dog. Yet his face burned.
He sat down, stood up again, and with a murmured request for
permission fetched Joachim's coverlet and spread it out over
himself as he sat in the chair. And thus he remained, hot
and cold by tuns, torturing himself with his nauseous cigar.
He was overcome by a wave of wretchedness; it seemed to him
he had never in his life before felt quite so
miserable.
"I feel simply wretched," he
muttered. And suddenly he was moved by an extraordinary and
extravagant thrill of joy and sus-pense, of which he was so
conscious that he sat motionless waiting for it to come
again. It did not - only the misery remained. He stood up at
last, flung Joachim's coverlet on the bed, and got something
out that sounded like a good night: Don't freeze to death
call me again in the morning," his lips hardly shaping the
words: then he staggered along the corridor to his own
room."
"...He had thought to fall asleep at once, but he was wrong.
His eyelids, which he had scarcely been able to hold up now
declined to close: they twitched rebelliously open whenever
he shut them. He told himself that it was not his regular
bed-time;
that during the day he had probably rested too much. Someone
seemed to be beating a carpet out of doors - which was not
very probable, and proved not to be the case, for it was the
beating of his own heart he heard, quite outside of himself
and away in the night, ex-actly as though someone were
beating a carpet with a wicker
beater.
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the little lamp in the
loggias, Joachim's and the Russian pair's, fell through the
open balcony door. As Hans Castorp lay there on his back
blinking, he recalled an impression amongst the host
received that day, an observation he had made, and then,
with shrinking and delicacy, sought to forget. It was the
look on Joachim's face when they spoke of Marusja and her
physical characteristics - an oddly pathetic facial
distortion, and a spotted pallor on the sun- browned cheeks.
Hans Castorp saw and understood what it meant, saw and
understood in a manner so new, so sympathetic, so intimate,
that the carpet-beater outside redoubled the swiftness and
severity of its blows and almost drowned out the sound of
the evening serenade down in the Platz - for their was a
concert again in the same hotel as before, and they were
playing a symmetrically constructed insipid melody that came
up through the darkness. Hans Castorp whistled a bar of it
in a whisper -
One can whistle a bar of it in a whisper - and beat time
with his cold feet under the plumeau.
That was, of course, the right way
not to go to sleep, and now he felt not the slightest
inclination. Since he had understood in that new,
penetrating sense why Joachim had changed colour, the whole
world seemed altered to him, he felt pierced for the second
time by that feeling of extravagant joy and suspense. And he
waited for, expected something, without asking himself
what..."
"...Later he went to sleep. But with sleep returned the
involved dreams, even more involved than those of the first
night - out
of which he often started up in fright, or pursuing some
con-fused fancy. He seemed to see Hofrat Behrens walking
down the garden path, with bent knees and arms hanging
stiffly in front of him, adapting his long and somehow
solitary-looking stride
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/
to the time of distant
march-music. As he paused before Hans Castorp, the latter
saw that he was wearing a pair of glasses with thick, round
lenses. He was uttering all sorts of nonsense. "A civilian,
of course," he said, and without saying by your leave, drew
down Hans Castorp's eyelid with the first and middle fingers
of his huge hand. "Respectable civilian, as I saw at once.
But not without talent, not at all without talent for a
heightened degree of oxidization. Wouldn't grudge us a year,
he wouldn't, just one little short year of service up here.
Well, hullo-ullo! Gentleman, on with the exercise," he
shouted, and putting his two enormous first fingers in his
mouth, emitted a whistle of such peculiarly pleasing quality
that from opposite directions Miss Robinson and the
schoolmistress, much smaller than life size, came flying
through the air and perched themselves right and left on the
Hofrat's shoulders, just as they sat right and left of Hans
Castorp in the dining room. And the Hofrat skipped away,
wiping his eyes behind his glasses with a table-napkin - but
whether it was tears or sweat he wiped could not be
told.
"...Then sleep and dream once more overpowered him, and he
saw himself in the act of flight from Dr. Krokowski, who had
lain in wait for him to undertake some psychoanalysis. He
fled from the doctor, but his feet were leaden; past the
glass partitions, along the balconies, into the garden; in
his extremity he tried to climb the red-brown flagstaff -
and woke perspiring at the moment when the pursuer seized
him by his trouser leg.
Hardly was he calm when
slumber claimed him once more. The content of his dream
entirely changed, and he stood trying to shoulder
Settembrini away from the spot where they stood, the Italian
smiling in his subtle, mocking way, under the full,
upward-curving moustaches - and it was precisely this smile
which Hans Castorp found so injurious.
"You are a nuisance,"
he distinctly heard himself say. "Get
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away, you are only a
hand-organ man, and you are in the way here. " But
Settembrini would not let himself be budged; Hans Castorp
was still standing considering what was to be done when he
was unexpectedly vouchsafed a signal
Insight into the true nature of time; it proved to be
nothing more or less than a "silent sister," a mercury
column without degrees, to be used by those who wanted to
cheat. He awoke with the thought in his mind that he must
certainly tell Joachim of this discovery on the
morrow..."
"... In such adventures,
among such discoveries, the night wore away. Hermine
Kleefeld, as well as Herr Albin and Captain Mik-losich,
played fantastic roles - the last carried off Frau Stohr in
his fury, and was pierced through and through with a lance
by Lawyer Paravant. One particular dream , however, Hans
Castorp dreamed twice over during the night, both times in
precisely the same form the second time towards morning. He
sat in the dining-hall with the
seven
tables when there came a great crashing of glass as the
verandah door banged, and Madame Chauchat en-tered in a
white sweater, one hand in her pocket, the other at the back
of her head. But instead of going to the "good" Russian
table, the unmannerly female glided noiselessly to Hans
Castorp's side and without a word reached him her hand - not
the back but the palm - to kiss. Hans Castorp kissed that
hand which was not overly well kept, but rather broad with
stumpy fingers, the skin roughened next the nails. And at
that there swept over him anew, from head to foot, the
feeling of reckless sweetness he had felt for the first time
when he tried to imagine himself free of the burden of a
good name, and tasted the boundless joys of shame. This
feeling he experienced anew in his dream, only a
thousand-fold ber than in his waking
hour.
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