The Cross was the Sign of the Creative Wisdom or Logos, the Son of God. Plato says, "He expressed him upon the Universe in the figure of the letter X. The next Power of the Supreme God was decusseted or figured in the shape of a Cross on the Universe." Mithras signed his soldiers on the forehead with a Cross. X is the mark of 600, the mysterious cycle of the Incarnations.

We constantly see the Tau and the Resh united thus. These two letters, in the old Samaritan, as found in Arius, stand, the first of 400, the second for 200=600. This is the Staff of Osiris, also, and his monogram, and was adopted by the Christians as a Sign. On a medal, P, of Constantius is the inscription, "In hoc signo victor eris." An inscription in the Duomo at Milan reads, "Christi. Nomina. Sancta. Tenei."

The Egyptians used as a Sign of their God Canobus, a T or a X indifferently. The Vaishnavas of India have also the same Sacred Tau, which they also mark with Crosses, theus, Cross, and with triangles, thus. The vestements of the priests of Horus were covered with these Crosses. So was the dress of the Lama of Thibet. The Sectarian marks of the Jains are Cross Cross. The distinctive badge of the Sect of Xac Japonicus is Cross. It is the sign of Fo, identical to the Cross of Christ.

On the ruins of Mandore, in India, among the other mystic emblems, are they mystic triangle, and the interlaced triangle. This is also found on ancient coins and medals, excavated from the ruins of Oojein and other ancient cities of India.

You entered here amid gloom and into shadow, and are clad in the apparel of sorrow. Lament with us, the sad condition of the Human race, in the vale of tears! The calamities of men and the agonies of nations! the darkness of the bewildered soul, oppressed by doubt and apprehension.

There is no human soul that is not sad at times. The is no thoughtful soul that does not at times despair. The is perhaps mone, of all that think at all of anything beyond the needs and interests of the body, that is not at times startled and terrified by the awful questions which, feeling as though it were a guilty thing for doing so, it whispers to itself in its inmost depths. Some Demon seems to torture it with deubts, and to crush it with despair, asking whether, after all, it is certain that its convictions are tru, and its faith well founded: whether it is indeed sure that a God of Infinite Love and Beneficence rules the Universe, or only some great remorseless Fate and iron Necessity, hid in impenetrable gloom, and to which men and their sufferings and sorrows, their hopes and joys, their ambitions and deeds, are of no more interest or importance than the motes that dance in the sunshine; or a Being that amuses Himself with the incredible vanity and folly, the writings and contortions of the insignificant insects that compose Humanity, and idly imagine that they resemble the Omnipotent. "What are we," the Tempter asks, "but puppets in a show box? O Omnipotent destiny, pull our strings gently! Dance us mercifully off our miserable little stage!"

"Is it not," the Demon whispers, "merely the inordinate vanity of man that causes him now to pretend to himself that he is like unto God in intellect, sympathies and passions, as it was that which, at the beginning, made him believe that he was, in his bodily shape and organs, the very image of the Deity! Is not his God merely his own shadow, projected in gigantic outlines upon the clouds! Does he not create for himself a God out of himself, by merely adding indefinite extension to his own faculties, powers, and passions?"

"Who," the Voice that will be be always silent whispers, "has ever thoroughly satisfied himself with his own argument in respect to his own nature? Who ever demonstarated to himself, with a conclusiveness that elevated the belief to certainty, that he was an immortal spirit, dwelling only temporarily in the house and enveloped of the body, and to live on foreverafter that shall have decayed? Who ever has demonstrated or ever can demonstrate that the intellect of Man differs from that of the wiser animals, otherwise then in degree? Who has ever done more than to utter nonsense and incoherencies in regard to the difference between the instincts of the dog and the reason of man? The horse, the dog, the elephant, are as conscious of their identity as we are. They think, dream, remember, argue with themselves, devise, plan, and reason. What is the intellect and intelligence of the man but the intellect of the animal in a higher degree or larger quantity? In the real explanation of a single thought of a dog, all metaphysics will be condensed.