In an anonymous work called The Compass
of the Wise, published in Berlin
in 1779, there is a diagram known as the Temple of Pansophia .
Upon a squared
pavement two Pillars support the Royal Arch of the heavens. The right hand
pillar, Boaz, carries the elemental symbols of Water and Earth and has the Moon
at its top. The left hand pillar, Jachin, carries the elemental symbols of Fire
and Air and is crowned with the Sun. The Superior World of the stars is above,
the Inferior World of Primal Chaos is below, and in between is a circular
temple of seven pillars.
Each
pillar represents one of the seven traditional planets: Sol, Luna, Mercury, Venus,
Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, and by extension the seven traditional metals: gold,
silver, quicksilver, copper, iron, tin and lead. Above the flat circular roof
of the temple, rays from their sigils converge in the conjoined symbols of
alchemical mercury and alchemical sulphur, of which a fourteenth century
alchemical manuscript attributed to Roger Bacon declares: "All metalls
and minerals, whereof there be sundrie and diverse kinds, are begotten of these
two." And seven descending rays also converge into this mediating
symbol of the foundation of all metals.
To the
intellectual eye this Temple of Pansophia, which features on the front of the
Skylight Press edition of my History of
White Magic, may seem just one more
diagram from a plethora of similar glyphs depicting various outmoded
pre-scientific theories. However, diagrams of this kind were not meant merely
as allegories for intellectual speculation. Some of them are powerful magical
images which invite us to walk within them; and in my experience this is
certainly one of them. Indeed, I found that the diagram was actively seeking me
out, rather than me going looking for it!
This occurred in
the first instance when I was conducting a series of workshops in 1991 at a
very powerful site in the city of Bath in southern England close to the hot
springs. Bath is a spa town to which people have gone for the healing waters,
certainly since Roman times (when its name was Aquae Sulis) and probably long
before that.
With a small
group I commenced a spontaneous visualisation exercise based upon the site as
it might originally have been, a marshy stream through a gorge, full of beech
trees, where an ancient swine herd took his pigs to feed off their favourite
food, the beech masts. No ordinary swine, I should say, for these creatures are
sacred to the goddess, just as the swine herd is a figure for her priest,
sometimes seen as Merlin, but in this location particularly associated with the
ancient King Bladud, legendary guardian of the site, who had some reputation as
a magician.
However,
to my surprise, no sooner had this ancient symbolism been evoked, than it kept
on being overlaid with a more recent construct. This was a circular temple
containing seven free standing pillars, each one dedicated to one of the Roman gods.
So as this seemed to be the way the powers concerned wished to play, I went
along with it.
The
site of this temple seemed to be centrally placed where a spring came up out of
the ground, from whence it ran out of the doorway to form a stream. The gods, a
sculptured head of whom was placed upon each pillar, were the conventional
Roman ones associated with the seven traditional planets, Saturn, Mars,
Jupiter, the Sun, Venus, Mercury and the Moon. There was also an overall awareness
of the goddess of the Earth, whose priestess tended a fire upon a stand over
the spring in the centre. The roof of the temple curved over in a dome but was
open at the top, and within the open circle a number of doves disported. The
experience for the group at this time was of approaching each pillar in turn
whereupon the god or goddess in question would come alive and provide a very
living contact.
This
was not too far distant from the intention of this particular workshop, which
was upon dynamics of the Sephiroth of the Tree of Life, but a totally
unexpected "earthing" of this intention came about. In the first
instance this was the literal falling into my hands, from an overloaded shelf,
of a newly published book by R.J.Stewart, The Way of Merlin. And in
particular a chapter on "Spring and Tree" caught my eye. This claimed
that trees, springs and caves are power points that tap into the energies of
the land, and then into other dimensions altogether. In practical pursuit of
this, advice was given on how to find a personal sacred tree and sacred spring.
However,
much as I respect the works of my friend Stewart, I had no immediate need of
such advice, for the group synchronously came up with finds of their own. One
was a massive chestnut tree that completely dominated a nearby urban square,
and about which they all linked hands, somewhat to the intrigued amusement of
the foreign tourists. The other was a
local well, a seventeenth century public bath, that after being closed for some
years, had just been temporarily re-opened, and was watched over by a self
appointed guardian, who had swum there as a child, and was protesting against
plans for its destruction. By mutual acclaim we went as a party to visit it.
To
my surprise the well turned out to be a circular pool, surrounded by a circular
wall, open at the top, with bases for pillars around its edge, reminiscent of
the temple that had just been impinging upon my consciousness.
It
had a plaque on the outside saying it had been constructed to commemorate the
birth of a son to Queen Mary in 1688. Later research revealed this to be the
queen of King James II, who within months was ousted from the throne in what is
still referred to as the Glorious Revolution. The child in question, James
Francis Edward, became the Old Pretender, and father of Bonnie Prince Charlie,
Roman Catholic claimants to the Protestant throne and figureheads for the
Jacobite cause.
It
is called the Cross Bath and is still standing, having been re-opened as part
of a smart new spa. The current building is Georgian but it directly replaced
an earlier building which had been built in 1688 to commemorate Queen Mary, since
she gave birth exactly nine months after bathing there.
During
the 20th century it was used as a public swimming pool until somebody died from
water-borne meningitis in 1970 and the place was shut down. It then stood
derelict and fell into disrepair, along with much of the surrounding area, and was
so dilapidated it was under threat of complete redevelopment. Thus our meeting someone protesting against its demise. Anyhow, the building was rescued and restored
and has since been refurbished on the
inside with a new pool, but still with the open roof.
It
is no wonder it has a buzz to it though, because it has a remarkable history.
It takes its waters from one of the hot springs and has been in use from
ancient times in one form or another. It was a fashionable place for socialites
in Bath's heyday but in earlier times it belonged to the medieval St John's
Hospital and was used as a healing spa, and the body of St Aldhelm is said to
have rested there in 709 on its way to burial in Malmesbury.