CLASS I
§ 2
TRUMPS
MAJOR
Otherwise, Greater Arcana
1. The Magus, Magician, or juggler, the caster of the dice and
mountebank, in the world of vulgar trickery. This is the colportage
interpretation, and it has the same correspondence with the real
symbolical meaning that the use of the Tarot in fortune-telling has with
its mystic construction according to the secret science of symbolism. I
should add that many independent students of the subject, following their
own lights, have produced individual sequences of meaning in respect of
the Trumps Major, and their lights are sometimes suggestive, but they are
not the true lights. For example, Éliphas Lévi says that the Magus
signifies that unity which is the mother of numbers; others say that it is
the Divine Unity; and one of the latest French commentators considers that
in its general sense it is the will.
2. The High Priestess, the Pope Joan, or Female Pontiff; early
expositors have sought to term this card the Mother, or Pope's Wife, which
is opposed to the symbolism. It is sometimes held to represent the Divine
Law and the Gnosis, in which case the Priestess corresponds to the idea of
the Shekinah. She is the Secret Tradition and the higher sense of the
instituted Mysteries.
3. The Empress, who is sometimes represented with full face,
while her correspondence, the Emperor, is in profile. As there has been
some tendency to ascribe a symbolical significance to this distinction, it
seems desirable to say that it carries no inner meaning. The Empress has
been connected with the ideas of universal fecundity and in a general
sense with activity.
4. The Emperor, by imputation the spouse of the former. He is
occasionally represented as wearing, in addition to his personal insignia,
the stars or ribbons of some order of chivalry. I mention this to shew
that the cards are a medley of old and new emblems. Those who insist upon
the evidence of the one may deal, if they can, with the other. No
effectual argument for the antiquity of a particular design can be drawn
from the fact that it incorporates old material; but there is also none
which can be based on sporadic novelties, the intervention of which may
signify only the unintelligent hand of an editor or of a late draughtsman.
5. The High Priest or Hierophant, called also Spiritual Father,
and more commonly and obviously the Pope. It seems even to have been named
the Abbot, and then its correspondence, the High Priestess, was the Abbess
or Mother of the Convent. Both are arbitrary names. The insignia of the
figures are papal, and in such case the High Priestess is and can be only
the Church, to whom Pope and priests are married by the spiritual rite of
ordination. I think, however, that in its primitive form this card did not
represent the Roman Pontiff.
6. The Lovers or Marriage. This symbol has undergone many
variations, as might be expected from its subject. In the eighteenth
century form, by which it first became known to the world of archæological
research, it is really a card of married life, shewing father and mother,
with their child placed between them; and the pagan Cupid above, in the
act of flying his shaft, is, of course, a misapplied emblem. The Cupid is
of love beginning rather than of love in its fulness, guarding the fruit
thereof. The card is said to have been entitled Simulacyum fidei,
the symbol of conjugal faith, for which the rainbow as a sign of the
covenant would have been a more appropriate concomitant. The figures are
also held to have signified Truth, Honour and Love, but I suspect that
this was, so to speak, the gloss of a commentator moralizing. It has
these, but it has other and higher aspects.
7. The Chariot. This is represented in some extant codices as
being drawn by two sphinxes, and the device is in consonance with the
symbolism, but it must not be supposed that such was its original form;
the variation was invented to support a particular historical hypothesis.
In the eighteenth century white horses were yoked to the car. As regards
its usual name, the lesser stands for the greater; it is really the King
in his triumph, typifying, however, the victory which creates kingship as
its natural consequence and not the vested royalty of the fourth card. M.
Court de Gebelin said that it was Osiris Triumphing, the conquering sun in
spring-time having vanquished the obstacles of winter. We know now that
Osiris rising from the dead is not represented by such obvious symbolism.
Other animals than horses have also been used to draw the currus
triumphalis, as, for example, a lion and a leopard.
8. Fortitude. This is one of the cardinal virtues, of which I
shall speak later. The female figure is usually represented as closing the
mouth of a lion. In the earlier form which is printed by Court de Gebelin,
she is obviously opening it. The first alternative is better symbolically,
but either is an instance of strength in its conventional understanding,
and conveys the idea of mastery. It has been said that the figure
represents organic force, moral force and the principle of all force.
9. The Hermit, as he is termed in common parlance, stands next
on the list; he is also the Capuchin, and in more philosophical language
the Sage. He is said to be in search of that Truth which is located far
off in the sequence, and of justice which has preceded him on the way. But
this is a card of attainment, as we shall see later, rather than a card of
quest. It is said also that his lantern contains the Light of Occult
Science and that his staff is a Magic Wand. These interpretations are
comparable in every respect to the divinatory and fortune-telling meanings
with which I shall have to deal in their turn. The diabolism of both is
that they are true after their own manner, but that they miss all the high
things to which the Greater Arcana should be allocated. It is as if a man
who knows in his heart that all roads lead to the heights, and that God is
at the great height of all, should choose the way of perdition or the way
of folly as the path of his own attainment. Éliphas Lévi has allocated
this card to Prudence, but in so doing he has been actuated by the wish to
fill a gap which would otherwise occur in the symbolism. The four cardinal
virtues are necessary to an idealogical sequence like the Trumps Major,
but they must not be taken only in that first sense which exists for the
use and consolation of him who in these days of halfpenny journalism is
called the man in the street. In their proper understanding they are the
correlatives of the counsels of perfection when these have been similarly
re-expressed, and they read as follows: (a) Transcendental justice, the
counter-equilibrium of the scales, when they have been overweighted so
that they dip heavily on the side of God. The corresponding counsel is to
use loaded dice when you play for high stakes with Diabolus. The
axiom is Aut Deus, aut nihil. (b) Divine Ecstacy, as a counterpoise
to something called Temperance, the sign of which is, I believe, the
extinction of lights in the tavern. The corresponding counsel is to drink
only of new wine in the Kingdom of the Father, because God is all in all.
The axiom is that man being a reasonable being must get intoxicated with
God; the imputed case in point is Spinoza. (c) The state of Royal
Fortitude, which is the state of a Tower of Ivory and a House of Gold, but
it is God and not the man who has become Turris fortitudinis a facie
inimici, and out of that House the enemy has been cast. The
corresponding counsel is that a man must not spare himself even in the
presence of death, but he must be certain that his sacrifice shall be-of
any open course-the best that will ensure his end. The axiom is that the
strength which is raised to such a degree that a man dares lose himself
shall shew him how God is found, and as to such refuge--dare therefore and
learn. (d) Prudence is the economy which follows the line of least
resistance, that the soul may get back whence it came. It is a doctrine of
divine parsimony and conservation of energy, because of the stress, the
terror and the manifest impertinences of this life. The corresponding
counsel is that true prudence is concerned with the one thing needful, and
the axiom is: Waste not, want not. The conclusion of the whole matter is a
business proposition founded on the law of exchange: You cannot help
getting what you seek in respect of the things that are Divine: it is the
law of supply and demand. I have mentioned these few matters at this point
for two simple reasons: (a) because in proportion to the impartiality of
the mind it seems sometimes more difficult to determine whether it is vice
or vulgarity which lays waste the present world more piteously; (b)
because in order to remedy the imperfections of the old notions it is
highly needful, on occasion, to empty terms and phrases of their accepted
significance, that they may receive a new and more adequate meaning.
10. The Wheel of Fortune. There is a current Manual of
Cartomancy which has obtained a considerable vogue in England, and
amidst a great scattermeal of curious things to no purpose has intersected
a few serious subjects. In its last and largest edition it treats in one
section of the Tarot; which--if I interpret the author rightly--it regards
from beginning to end as the Wheel of Fortune, this expression being
understood in my own sense. I have no objection to such an inclusive
though conventional description; it obtains in all the worlds, and I
wonder that it has not been adopted previously as the most appropriate
name on the side of common fortune-telling. It is also the title of one of
the Trumps Major--that indeed of our concern at the moment, as my
sub-title shews. Of recent years this has suffered many fantastic
presentations and one hypothetical reconstruction which is suggestive in
its symbolism. The wheel has seven radii; in the eighteenth century the
ascending and descending animals were really of nondescript character, one
of them having a human head. At the summit was another monster with the
body of an indeterminate beast, wings on shoulders and a crown on head. It
carried two wands in its claws. These are replaced in the reconstruction
by a Hermanubis rising with the wheel, a Sphinx couchant at the summit and
a Typhon on the descending side. Here is another instance of an invention
in support of a hypothesis; but if the latter be set aside the grouping is
symbolically correct and can pass as such.
11. Justice. That the Tarot, though it is of all reasonable
antiquity, is not of time immemorial, is shewn by this card, which could
have been presented in a much more archaic manner. Those, however, who
have gifts of discernment in matters of this kind will not need to be told
that age is in no sense of the essence of the consideration; the Rite of
Closing the Lodge in the Third Craft Grade of Masonry may belong to the
late eighteenth century, but the fact signifies nothing; it is still the
summary of all the instituted and official Mysteries. The female figure of
the eleventh card is said to be Astræa, who personified the same virtue
and is represented by the same symbols. This goddess notwithstanding, and
notwithstanding the vulgarian Cupid, the Tarot is not of Roman mythology,
or of Greek either. Its presentation of justice is supposed to be one of
the four cardinal virtues included in the sequence of Greater Arcana; but,
as it so happens, the fourth emblem is wanting, and it became necessary
for the commentators to discover it at all costs. They did what it was
possible to do, and yet the laws of research have never succeeded in
extricating the missing Persephone under the form of Prudence. Court de
Gebelin attempted to solve the difficulty by a tour de force, and believed
that he had extracted what he wanted from the symbol of the Hanged
Man--wherein he deceived himself. The Tarot has, therefore, its justice,
its Temperance also and its Fortitude, but--owing to a curious
omission--it does not offer us any type of Prudence, though it may be
admitted that, in some respects, the isolation of the Hermit, pursuing a
solitary path by the light of his own lamp, gives, to those who can
receive it, a certain high counsel in respect of the via prudentiæ.
12. The Hanged Man. This is the symbol which is supposed to
represent Prudence, and Éliphas Lévi says, in his most shallow and
plausible manner, that it is the adept bound by his engagements. The
figure of a man is suspended head-downwards from a gibbet, to which he is
attached by a rope about one of his ankles. The arms are bound behind him,
and one leg is crossed over the other. According to another, and indeed
the prevailing interpretation, he signifies sacrifice, but all current
meanings attributed to this card are cartomancists' intuitions, apart from
any real value on the symbolical side. The fortune-tellers of the
eighteenth century who circulated Tarots, depict a semi-feminine youth in
jerkin, poised erect on one foot and loosely attached to a short stake
driven into the ground.
13. Death. The method of presentation is almost invariable, and
embodies a bourgeois form of symbolism. The scene is the field of life,
and amidst ordinary rank vegetation there are living arms and heads
protruding from the ground. One of the heads is crowned, and a skeleton
with a great scythe is in the act of mowing it. The transparent and
unescapable meaning is death, but the alternatives allocated to the symbol
are change and transformation. Other heads have been swept from their
place previously, but it is, in its current and patent meaning, more
especially a card of the death of Kings. In the exotic sense it has been
said to signify the ascent of the spirit in the divine spheres, creation
and destruction, perpetual movement, and so forth.
14. Temperance. The winged figure of a female--who, in
opposition to all doctrine concerning the hierarchy of angels, is usually
allocated to this order of ministering spirits--is pouring liquid from one
pitcher to another. In his last work on the Tarot, Dr. Papus abandons the
traditional form and depicts a woman wearing an Egyptian head-dress. The
first thing which seems clear on the surface is that the entire symbol has
no especial connexion with Temperance, and the fact that this designation
has always obtained for the card offers a very obvious instance of a
meaning behind meaning, which is the title in chief to consideration in
respect of the Tarot as a whole.
15. The Devil. In the eighteenth century this card seems to have
been rather a symbol of merely animal impudicity. Except for a fantastic
head-dress, the chief figure is entirely naked; it has bat-like wings, and
the hands and feet are represented by the claws of a bird. In the right
hand there is a sceptre terminating in a sign which has been thought to
represent fire. The figure as a whole is not particularly evil; it has no
tail, and the commentators who have said that the claws are those of a
harpy have spoken at random. There is no better ground for the alternative
suggestion that they are eagle's claws. Attached, by a cord depending from
their collars, to the pedestal on which the figure is mounted, are two
small demons, presumably male and female. These are tailed, but not
winged. Since 1856 the influence of Éliphas Lévi and his doctrine of
occultism has changed the face of this card, and it now appears as a
pseudo-Baphometic figure with the head of a goat and a great torch between
the horns; it is seated instead of erect, and in place of the generative
organs there is the Hermetic caduceus. In Le Tarot Divinatoire of
Papus the small demons are replaced by naked human beings, male and female
' who are yoked only to each other. The author may be felicitated on this
improved symbolism.
16. The Tower struck by Lightning. Its alternative titles are:
Castle of Plutus, God's House and the Tower of Babel. In the last case,
the figures falling therefrom are held to be Nimrod and his minister. It
is assuredly a card of confusion, and the design corresponds, broadly
speaking, to any of the designations except Maison Dieu, unless we
are to understand that the House of God has been abandoned and the veil of
the temple rent. It is a little surprising that the device has not so far
been allocated to the destruction Of Solomon's Temple, when the lightning
would symbolize the fire and sword with which that edifice was visited by
the King of the Chaldees.
17. The Star, Dog-Star, or Sirius, also called fantastically the
Star of the Magi. Grouped about it are seven minor luminaries, and beneath
it is a naked female figure, with her left knee upon the earth and her
right foot upon the water. She is in the act of pouring fluids from two
vessels. A bird is perched on a tree near her; for this a butterfly on a
rose has been substituted in some later cards. So also the Star has been
called that of Hope. This is one of the cards which Court de Gebelin
describes as wholly Egyptian-that is to say, in his own reverie.
18. The Moon. Some eighteenth-century cards shew the luminary on
its waning side; in the debased edition of Etteilla, it is the moon at
night in her plenitude, set in a heaven of stars; of recent years the moon
is shewn on the side of her increase. In nearly all presentations she is
shining brightly and shedding the moisture of fertilizing dew in great
drops. Beneath there are two towers, between which a path winds to the
verge of the horizon. Two dogs, or alternatively a wolf and dog, are
baying at the moon, and in the foreground there is water, through which a
crayfish moves towards the land.
19. The Sun. The luminary is distinguished in older cards by chief rays
that are waved and salient alternately and by secondary salient rays. It
appears to shed its influence on earth not only by light and heat,
but--like the moon--by drops of dew. Court de Gebelin termed these tears
of gold and of pearl, just as he identified the lunar dew with the tears
of Isis. Beneath the dog-star there is a wall suggesting an enclosure-as
it might be, a walled garden-wherein are two children, either naked or
lightly clothed, facing a water, and gambolling, or running hand in hand.
Éliphas Lévi says that these are sometimes replaced by a spinner unwinding
destinies, and otherwise by a much better symbol-a naked child mounted on
a white horse and displaying a scarlet standard.
20. The Last judgment. I have spoken of this symbol already, the
form of which is essentially invariable, even in the Etteilla set. An
angel sounds his trumpet per sepulchra regionum, and the dead
arise. It matters little that Etteilla omits the angel, or that Dr. Papus
substitutes a ridiculous figure, which is, however, in consonance with the
general motive of that Tarot set which accompanies his latest work. Before
rejecting the transparent interpretation of the symbolism which is
conveyed by the name of the card and by the picture which it presents to
the eye, we should feel very sure of our ground. On the surface, at least,
it is and can be only the resurrection of that triad--father, mother,
child-whom we have met with already in the eighth card. M. Bourgeat
hazards the suggestion that esoterically it is the symbol of evolution--of
which it carries none of the signs. Others say that it signifies renewal,
which is obvious enough; that it is the triad of human life; that it is
the "generative force of the earth... and eternal life." Court de Gebelin
makes himself impossible as usual, and points out that if the grave-stones
were removed it could be accepted as a symbol of creation.
21--which, however, in most of the arrangements is the cipher card,
number nothing--The Fool, Mate, or Unwise Man. Court de Gebelin
places it at the head of the whole series as the zero or negative which is
presupposed by numeration, and as this is a simpler so also it is a better
arrangement. It has been abandoned because in later times the cards have
been attributed to the letters of the Hebrew alphabet, and there has been
apparently some difficulty about allocating the zero symbol satisfactorily
in a sequence of letters all of which signify numbers. In the present
reference of the card to the letter Shin, which corresponds to 200, the
difficulty or the unreason remains. The truth is that the real arrangement
of the cards has never transpired. The Fool carries a wallet; he is
looking over his shoulder and does not know that he is on the brink of a
precipice; but a dog or other animal--some call it a tiger--is attacking
him from behind, and he is hurried to his destruction unawares. Etteilla
has given a justifiable variation of this card--as generally
understood--in the form of a court jester, with cap, bells and motley
garb. The other descriptions say that the wallet contains the bearer's
follies and vices, which seems bourgeois and arbitrary.
22. The World, the Universe, or Time. The four living creatures
of the Apocalypse and Ezekiel's vision, attributed to the evangelists in
Christian symbolism, are grouped about an elliptic garland, as if it were
a chain of flowers intended to symbolize all sensible things; within this
garland there is the figure of a woman, whom the wind has girt about the
loins with a light scarf, and this is all her vesture. She is in the act
of dancing, and has a wand in either hand. It is eloquent as an image of
the swirl of the sensitive life, of joy attained in the body, of the
soul's intoxication in the earthly paradise, but still guarded by the
Divine Watchers, as if by the powers and the graces of the Holy Name,
Tetragammaton, JVHV--those four ineffable letters which are sometimes
attributed to the mystical beasts. Éliphas Lévi calls the garland a crown,
and reports that the figure represents Truth. Dr. Papus connects it with
the Absolute and the realization of the Great Work; for yet others it is a
symbol of humanity and the eternal reward of a life that has been spent
well. It should be noted that in the four quarters of the garland there
are four flowers distinctively marked. According to P. Christian, the
garland should be formed of roses, and this is the kind of chain which
Éliphas Lévi says is less easily broken than a chain of iron. Perhaps by
antithesis, but for the same reason, the iron crown of Peter may he more
lightly on the heads of sovereign pontiffs than the crown of gold on
kings. |