Master of the Blue Cloak by Manly P. Hall

Once there was an alchemist, who sought amongst the mysteries of nature to find the elixir of life and the philosopher's stone. In order that his labors might not be disturbed, this mystic chemist withdrew from the world of men, to a cave far in the side of a hill. And there he build a laboratory, and brought ancient and rare books for his library. He equipped it with all the apparatus of the chemist: with burners and flasks, and many strange and weird instruments. Here for many years, he labored with chemicals, herbs and symbols, seeking to find the secret of perpetual youth. And in his own narrow, yet earnest way, to discover the lost blessing of mankind: the panacea. The balm of gilead, promised by the sacred writings of old.  

For over 40 years, he plied his task in the laboratory, pulverizing herbs and metals, seeking from the depths of the earth to the furthermost corners of the sky for the answer to his great problem. Many amazing and masterful discoveries were filed away in his diary. Many learned secrets he gleaned from his experiments, many surprising truths from his studies. But the master secret of alchemy, the crowning achievement, continued to elude him.With all his studies and his labors, he was forced to admit that he had not found the answer to the mystery of mysteries.

One day, as he sat at his laboratory dejected and disconsolate, there flashed across his mind an entirely new thought: could it be that he was not searching where the light was? Could it be that these ancient writers, these honored scientists, had themselves failed, and that only a blind alley was disclosed to those who studied their works? It was a thought that almost overwhelmed his heart. He sat dazed in his chair. His head fell upon his arms, which rested on the table, and a heart long pent-up gave way to sorrow. 

"At any rate, I have failed," he mused, "either those who wrote knew not the secret, or else I have not read aright the meaning of their words. The things I seek, I cannot find. The truths I would know, elude me like the will-o-the-wisp. The power of those masters in whose footsteps I would tread, and whose truths I would penetrate, have not been revealed to me either by the words of my brothers or by my own searching."

Then, another thought dawned upon his soul. He laid aside his books, closed the numberless closets with their vials and [retorts?], and sitting down again in his great chair, bowed his head in prayer and asked like a child the way that he should tread. He called upon the names of the great ones who had gone before. He asked that the mystic alchemists of old should guide his footsteps, that he might learn the truths that would serve his fellow men. 

Suddenly, as he sat there, a voice spoke to him. "Brother, what do you seek?" The old alchemist started in amazement and turned in his chair. For he knew of none who could have guessed the secret of that hidden cave, or who could have entered so silently, that his reveries had not been disturbed. A tall, slender man, with dark eyes and broad, noble forehead stood behind him, draped from head to foot in a mysterious cape of indigo. The stranger parted the cloak, and his long, slim hands drew back its folds. 

"Who are you?" demanded the alchemist in surprise. "Who thus comes to break my solitude?" "I am that I am," answered the stranger, "know you not that words mean nothing, that names are but terms for forms? But what I am and what I mean to you is all-important. You may call me the Brother of the Blue Cape. You do not know me, but I know you. For many years you have labored in this cave, seeking the true answer to the riddle of life, and the solution of the mystery of being. Many times I have assisted you, but you could not know this; for until you called me, I could not come. You have sought in all the world of natural things, with book and chemical, with telescope, crucible and [retort?] Though you have studied long, you have not learned the mysteries of the alchemist. You have sought to glean from the sages of old their sacred truths, but you have failed in all your attempts. For while you have learned many things, you know little more of the deeper secrets than when you started.

"There are those in this world, however, in whose souls the alchemist lives eternal, and who carry within the locket of their own hearts the secret of the lost panacea; in whose innermost being still flows the elixir of life, and who know the secret of the furnace in which the philosopher's stone is made. Lay aside your books and your alembics for a moment, and learn of the path that leads to the light." The old alchemist leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the face of the intruder. The Brother of the Blue Cape crossed, and sitting down beside him, spoke in soft, musical tones, which comforted the heart of the lonely seeker, and illumined him with the light he had looked for so long. 

"Know you, brother, that all the secrets of alchemy are concealed within the folds of this cape of blue? It is not merely a stone that you seek, nor a liquid to fill your vials. But the true quest of the alchemist is for the indigo cape. In the universe about us, behold how the father enfolds within the blue cape of heaven all his children. Behold how the masters gather under the folds of their garments, and under the protection of their cloaks, the hearts of men. Know you that alchemy is that process in man, which shapes this cape. And only those who wear this mystic raiment may claim to know the formula of alchemy. All the powers of the universe wear these wondrous cloaks of many colors (for indigo is made of all the tones). 

"In life, these views are called Compassion, Purity, and Service. It is beneath the cape (which is called Compassion), that the servants of the Father gather his wayward children. They labor in the Father's name, for the blue of the sky is but a vast cloak, which he winds lovingly about creation. It is this cloak which each must weave as a living vesture, which brings with its completion the realization of truth. All the Masters wear capes; their very lives are cloaks, for their hearts are so great, that they seek to enfold all living things within the glory of their love. These capes are the garments of protection, they are indeed the cloaks of wisdom, more precious than any earthly garment. But these capes are broad; they have many folds. Those who seek the truth must learn that the stone of the philosopher is always concealed somewhere within the blue cloak of initiation. Each truth that is woven into the living garment of the soul brings with it a great advancement; a more complete revelation of spiritual consciousness. 

"There are thousands laboring with mankind, who are not of mankind. Who, like the spirits of Venus and of Jupiter, are bound to the earth by the needs of its children. There are many active here who long for the freedom to do greater things. Noble souls from worlds unknown are chained to earth by the ignorance of Man. The eldest of the brothers are forced continually to do the labors which Man should do. The Masters must come from the cosmic tasks, to adjust the difficulties of the ignorant. They must gather the wayward souls under the protective folds of their vast mantles. 

"These cloaks are woven of the light of truth, of knowledge, and of power. Each time a soul is found in the world of men who will take upon itself the sorrows of the world, who labors that others may have more light, who learns the things worthwhile, and becomes strong enough to carry the burdens of humanity; when such a one is found, the Master takes off his own mantle, and places it upon the shoulders of his disciple. The Master is then free to advance to greater works, to don the more ample and more burdensome garment. In the days that are to come, the children of Earth must bear the responsibilities beneath which now the gods are bowed. The powers of Light are searching for those that will wear their garments, whose souls are great enough to be the capes of blue; widespreading enough to gather Earth's weakest ones beneath their folds."

The old alchemist's eyes were closed, and he heard the words as in a dream. But suddenly, a great flood of light descended into his being. He saw the things so long hidden. The truth, so long concealed, streamed into his aspiring soul. "I have found it!" he cried. "I have found the philosopher's stone! I see its light radiating to the depth of my own soul! I have found the elixir of life, as it pours upon me from the rivers of living water! I feel the balm of Gilead, as drop by drop it falls from my wounded heart. I see! I see!"

"You have seen well," answered the mystic, as he sat enfolded in his mantle. "For know that out of your own being flows the lost panacea for the world's woes. The kindly action, the soft touch, the smile in the moments of sorrow. These make up the elixir of life to your fellow men. The philosopher's stone shines in resplendent glory, from the one who has lived a life and learned to know the doctrine. While the balm of gilead is, in truth, the Loving Word in a moment of sorrow. The selfless compassion in the hour of need. Your quest is over, brother. You have found those things for which you sought. Your years of labor have their reward. Your diligence has not been in vain. Now what will you do with it? How will you use the precious secrets which have been disclosed to you?"

The old alchemist rose to his feet, his eyes alight with a strange glow which revealed the glory of the light within. His tottering footsteps grew stronger, as though indeed he had found the fountain of eternal youth. His shaking hands grew steadier, while he straightened himself and pointed toward the villages outside the cave. "I'm going back again!" he cried. "All these years, I have hidden myself away in this cave under the hill. But now I see that my place is in the world! I'm going back to tell all the truths that you have unveiled to me! I will go out to live the philosopher's stone! Of the elixir of life and the balm of gilead I will give to all mankind! Rich and poor, young and old, and of whatever caste, whatever creed! They shall see the light that I have found. They shall also know how I found it. That gods have been gracious, and have given me the treasure I sought. And now, I dedicate these treasures to the service of men."

The stranger of the blue cape smiled, and taking the old man by the shoulder, led him back to the chair, saying, sit down and rest. You have found the object of your quest, and your soul is filled with great compassion. You shall indeed serve your brother men to the glory of your God, and the liberation of the Masters." Slowly the old man's head sank upon his breast. His heart, beating fast with the glory of his great discovery was quieted by the hand of the Master. The mystic stood over him while the old alchemist slept as peacefully as a child. "Rest, brother," whispered the mystic. "for your quest has been long, and the search intense. Rest, for before you are labors eternal. You are now coming to the day when, for you, rest shall be no more. Sleep, foe the eyes now closed will be opened for ages. Be happy now, for before you on distant Calvary rises the shadow of a cross."

The mystic sank on his knees, and clasping his hands, raised his eyes to heaven, praying: "Father, I thank thee that another has found the light. That a soul, long-wandering, has taken the path which leads to liberation. I thank thee that I have been freed for a greater task. I thank thee, Father, that this soul has found this day the thing it sought. And O, God Eternal, help me in my endless search for the keys to the mysteries, in the name of thy Blessed Son." 

The Master rose, and taking off his mantle of indigo, laid it over the shoulders of the sleeping alchemist. "Here, brother, is the garment that I have worn. But a short time ago, I gathered you in its folds. Now I give it to you with all its joys, with all its sorrows. Under its folds gather you the souls of men, in the name of the Great One whose blue cape envelops creation." The mystic then walked slowly from the cave, his face calm with peace and divine compassion. He raised his eyes once more to the light streaming from the heavens. "Father, I am ready for thy greater works." From somewhere, two hands reached down and a great cloak of blue fell upon the mystic's shoulders. Far more voluminous, far more cumbersome, than the other. He staggered under the weight of its massive folds, as the Christ staggered beneath the weight of his cross. But with a strength divine, he rose and, spreading wide the folds which seemed to carry within them the full creation, he cried out with a joyous voice to the world in pain: "Come unto me, all ye who labor, and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." 

With this great cape protecting and concealing thousands of living creatures, the mystic floated silently over the world, gathering under the folds of his garments the souls of men. The alchemist had taken the lesser task, and freed the Master for a greater. When the old alchemist awoke, he could discern no garment of blue. But his soul, wakened by its vision, had become invested by the indigo cape of compassion which forever unfolds the sorrows of the world.