The Wonderman of Europe

"Will you have the kindness to tell me," said the Countess v. Georgy, "whether your father was in Venice about the year 1710?"

 "No, Madame," replied the count quite un­concerned, "it is very much longer since I lost my father; but I myself was living in Venice at the end of the last and the beginning of this century; I had the honour to pay you court then. . . ."

"Forgive me, but that is impossible; the Comte de St. Germain I knew in those days was at least 45 years old, and you, at the outside, are that age at present."

"Madame," replied the count smiling, "I am very old."

"But then you must be nearly 100 years old." "That is not impossible," Saint Germain replied.

He was the Wonderman of Europe—this we know. But was he the lost third son of Prince Ferenc Rakoczy II, the deposed Hungarian ruler? Or did he, as the Ascended Master Saint Germain, mate­rialize a body to give the appearance that he had descended through the royal house of Hungary? His birth, death, and true identity are shrouded in mystery.

But one thing is certain: he was highly visible in the royal courts—and invisible! He was seen to 'disappear' as he left the private quarters of the king and queen at Versailles. Without a doubt, his feats as the Count Saint Germain are exclama­tion points across the diaries of the eighteenth-century greats.

In the court memoirs of Madame de Pom­padour, Prince Karl of Hesse and Madame d'Adhémar, he is remembered as l’homme ex­traordinaire. Described as slim but well-propor­tioned, of medium height and with pleasant features, he had fascinating eyes which capti­vated the observing who chanced to study them. He wore diamonds on every finger—and on his shoe buckles. Even after his remarkable conversa­tion with the Countess dc Georgy in 1767, he did not age.

Madame d'Adhémar met him in 1789. "It was himself in person.... Yes! with the same countenance as in 1760, while mine was covered with furrows and marks of decrepitude."

Ageless, a mystery man. There is nothing, it seems, he could not do. He was admired as a great philosopher, diplomat, scientist, healer, artist and musician. He knew history so well that it would seem he had actually experienced the events he related. Madame de Pompadour recalled that "sometimes he recounted anecdotes of the court of the Valois [French royal house of 1328 to 1589] or of princes still more remote, with such precise accuracy in every detail as almost to create the illusion that he had been an eyewitness to what he narrated."

His knowledge extended not only back in time but also around the globe. "He had traveled the whole world over," de Pompadour wrote, "and the king lent a willing ear to the narratives of his voyages over Asia and Africa, and to his tales about the courts of Russia, Turkey and Austria."

He spoke at least twelve languages so fluently that everywhere he went he was accepted as a native. These included French, German, English, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian and Eastern languages. "The learned and the oriental scholars have proved the knowledge of the Count St. Germain," wrote a countess at Louis XV's court. "The former found him more apt in the languages of Homer and Virgil than themselves; with the latter he spoke Sanskrit, Chinese, Arabic in such a manner as to show them that he had made some lengthy stay in Asia."

He was with General Clive in India in 1755, where he said he learned to melt jewels. At the court of the Shah of Persia from 1737 to 1742, Monsieur de Saint Germain exhibited his skill at precipitating and perfecting precious gems, par­ticularly diamonds.

He also traveled to Japan, as he told Ma­dame d’Adhémar. There is no telling where else he visited, for he would appear and reappear unpredictably all over Europe. Yet there was a purpose behind all that the Wonderman did. And his wonders went far beyond mere genius.

He was skilled in healing and the use of medicinal herbs. Some have speculated that it was Saint Germain's use of herbs combined with his simple eating habits that prolonged his life. Prince Karl of Hesse wrote, "He thoroughly un­derstood herbs and plants, and had invented the medicines of which he constantly made use, and which prolonged his life and health."

He gave an elixir to Madame v. Georgy which made her keep looking 25 for 25 years, according to contemporary accounts. She lived so long that she came to be called the old everlasting countess.

Saint Germain also prescribed an herb tea for the health of the Russian army and he offered to cure Jacques de Casanova of an acute disease in three days. But the rogue declined the drugs, not trusting anyone, not even the most trusty of alchemists, having himself swindled many.

The count was a virtuoso on both the piano and violin as well as an accomplished painter, poet and artisan. Wherever he traveled, he was welcomed as scholar, statesman and raconteur. He formed secret societies, was a leading figure in the Rosicrucians, Freemasons and Knights Tem­plar of the period, and penned the occult classic The Most Holy Trinosophia, using a mixture of modern languages and ancient hieroglyphics.

Monsieur de Saint Germain never confirmed or denied anything that was said about him. Instead, he would respond with a smile or a stud­ied evasiveness. His skill as an alchemist was praised by Louis XV, who provided him a labora­tory and residence at the royal castle of Chambord. And his alchemical demonstrations were nothing short of miraculous according to his chroniclers.

Madame du Hausset, who was femme de chambre to Madame de Pompadour, writes at some length of Saint Germain's marvels.

Her memoirs tell us that in 1757, "the King ordered a middling-sized diamond which had a flaw in it, to be brought to him. After having it weighed, his Majesty said to the Count: 'The value of this diamond as it is, and with the flaw in it, is six thousand livres; without the flaw it would be worth at least ten thousand. Will you under­take to make me a gainer of four thousand livres?' St. Germain examined it very attentively, and said, 'It is possible; it may be done. I will bring it to you again in a month.'

"At the time appointed the Comte de St. Germain brought back the diamond without a spot, and gave it to the King. It was wrapped in a cloth of amianthos, which he took off. The king had it weighed immediately, and found it very little diminished. His Majesty then sent it to his jeweler ... without telling him of anything that had passed. The jeweler gave him nine thousand six hundred livres for it. The King, however, sent for the diamond back again, and said he would keep it as a curiosity."

At one European court, this eighteenth-century Merlin requested that several bones from a deer and boughs of a tree be brought to him. When presented with these "ingredients," he slipped into a large palace dining room. Several moments later he reappeared and invited the guests to follow him. When the doors were opened, all were astounded: inside the room was a forest with deer grazing around a lushly laden board of haute cuisine.

With similar ease, Saint Germain accom­plished the alchemist's dream—the changing of base metals into gold.

In 1763, Count Karl Cobenzl wrote in a let­ter that Saint Germain perfected "under my own eyes... the transmutation of iron into a metal as beautiful as gold, and at least as good for all gold­smith's work." The Marquis de Valbelle reported seeing Saint Germain change a silver six-franc piece into gold.

Casanova wrote of a parallel experiment in which Saint Germain changed a twelve-sols piece into a gold coin. However, he thought it was a trick and hinted to Saint Germain that he had substituted one for the other. Saint Germain rebuked him: "Those who are capable of enter­taining doubts of my work are not worthy to speak to me," and bowed the unbeliever out of his laboratory at once and for good.

The count was not only an alchemist, but an Eastern adept, displaying yogic behavior, medi­tating in the lotus posture and calming animals by his fiery spirit.

One Dutch admirer, J. van Sypesteyn, wrote, "Sometimes he fell into a trance, and when he again recovered, he said he had passed the time while he lay unconscious in far-off lands; some­times he disappeared for a considerable time, then suddenly re-appeared, and let it be under­stood that he had been in another world in com­munication with the dead. Moreover, he prided himself on being able to tame bees, and to make snakes listen to music."

A Master of masters—he was not a charlatan. Nor was he a figment of the imagination. He is mentioned in the letters of Frederick the Great, Voltaire, Horace Walpole, Casanova and even appears in the newspapers of the day—The Lon­don Chronicle of June 1760, a Florentine paper, Le notizie del Mondo, in July of 1770, and also in the Gazette of the Netherlands.

He was entrusted with the state secrets of several countries, indicating that he enjoyed the long-standing trust of those he dealt with at court. He was sent on negotiating missions by Louis XV, one of the first to practice secret diplo­macy. The archives of France contain evidence that English, Dutch, and Prussian statesmen of his time regarded the count as an authority in many fields.

"He appeared to be more intimately ac­quainted with the secrets of each court than the charge d'affaires of the king” Madame de Pompa­dour wrote. Voltaire remarked that Saint Ger­main knew the secrets of the prime ministers of England, France and Austria.

Although many suspected him of being a rogue and swindler, it is clear that money was not his object. He was always well provided for, and Madame de Pompadour writes that the count gave the king beautiful paintings and passed out "diamonds and jewels with astonishing liberal­ity." Clearly not the behavior of a treasure hunter.

Indeed, he was a philanthropist. Prince Karl of Hesse described him as "the friend of human­ity, wishing for money only that he might give to the poor; a friend to animals, his heart was con­cerned only with the happiness of others."

"Wherever he was personally known he left a favourable impression behind, and the remem­brance of many good and sometimes of many noble deeds. Many a poor father of a family, many a charitable institution, was helped by him in secret," van Sypesteyn wrote.

In Studies in Alchemy Saint Germain ex­plains that he actually precipitated goods to give to the poor. "When serving in Europe to dissipate some of the poverty and confusion so prevalent there," he writes, "I did use universal alchemy to produce the substance which, although tempo­rary in nature, supplied many human needs."

But why all of this extravaganza at court? What was he trying to prove? He was trying, pre­cisely—with wit and humor and his prophetic, masterful presence—to galvanize an age in the face of the inevitable passing of the old order. His plan of action was to establish a United States of Europe—before the pulling of the ripcord of the bloody French Revolution should leave nothing bad or good of the royal houses of Europe.

Another of Saint Germain's aims was to ac­celerate the progress of science and technology to lift man into a capacity for greater spiritual aware­ness. At times he played the part of patron saint of the Industrial Revolution.

Count Karl Cobenzl witnessed his develop­ment of mass-production techniques. Among them were bleaching flax to look like Italian silk, dyeing and preparing skins "which surpassed all the moroccos in the world, and the most perfect tanning; the dyeing of silks, carried to a perfec­tion hitherto unknown; the like dyeing of wool­lens; the dyeing of wood in the most brilliant colours penetrating through and through... with the commonest ingredients, and consequently at a very moderate price."

And believe it or not. Saint Germain ac­tually set up a hat factory for Count Cobenzl! He also began mass producing his own various inventions while sponsoring other technological advancements. "I am much needed in Constantinople; then in England," he told one memoir writer, "there to prepare two inventions which you will have in the next century—trains and steamboats."

His object seemed to be to assist the rise of a middle class while convincing the monarchy to make a smooth transition into the modern age. While he accomplished the former, the apathy of the ruling classes and the intrigue of corrupt advisers thwarted his success in the latter.

The monarchs, while in admiration of his miraculous accomplishments, pronounced them "interesting." Always willing to be entertained by him, they were not easily prodded into action. When it came to taking his advice, they politely ignored him; and their ministers, jealous to the quick, despised him.

A case in point is Louis XV's aborted secret mission. He sent Saint Germain as his envoy to Amsterdam to negotiate a peace treaty ending the war between the French and Austrian alli­ance and the English and Prussians.

Too soon, the French ambassador in Amster­dam got wind of it, was offended that the king would employ an "obscure foreigner" in his stead, and complained to the foreign minister, the Due de Choiseul, who immediately sent out orders for Saint Germain's arrest. The duke's desire was not for peace, at least not then, and especially not a peace for which he could not claim credit.

The next day before the King and his council, Choiseul exposed the mission, averring, "I am convinced that no one here would be bold enough to desire to negotiate a Treaty of Peace without the knowledge of Your Majesty's Minister for For­eign Affairs!"

The king, as usual, took the course of least resistance. He neither challenged his minister nor championed Saint Germain and remained silent as to his own part in the affair. However, dis­credited, his peace mission aborted, the count did manage to avoid arrest—perhaps by the warning of the king or, more likely, by his own foreknowledge.

The same treatment continued under Louis XVI, but this time Saint Germain was prepared. First, he sought audience with the queen. Ma­dame d’Adhémar was present and recorded the scene. He spelled out for Marie Antoinette pre­cise details of the terror to come and begged her to warn Louis.

He said, "Some years yet will pass by in a deceitful calm; then from all parts of the kingdom will spring up men greedy for vengeance, for power, and for money; they will overthrow all in their way.... Civil war will burst out with all its horrors; it will bring in its train murder, pillage, exile. Then it will be regretted that I was not lis­tened to."

He told the queen that he wanted to see the king without the knowledge of Monsieur de Maurepas, saying of the king's chief adviser, "He is my enemy; besides, I rank him among those who will further the ruin of the kingdom, not from malice, but from incapacity." Stating his availability "at their Majesties' command," Monsieur de Saint Germain took his leave of the queen.

He left for Paris, heading out of the country, having told Madame d’Adhémar that he knew the king would speak to Maurepas and he had no wish to be thrown into the Bastille and have to resort to a miracle to get out. She protested that the king might not. In that case, he replied, he would be back in time.

Marie Antoinette went straight to the king, who then quizzed Madame d’Adhémar about the count, saying he had "seriously alarmed the queen." Sure enough, Louis asked the advice of Maurepas, who told him Saint Germain was a rogue, whereupon the self-serving adviser went im­mediately to the residence of Madame d’Adhémar to arrest the Wonderman. Saint Germain was nowhere to be found. No sooner had he declared his intent to lock up Saint Germain in the Bastille than the door to her room opened and the thaumaturgist entered. Approaching Maurepas, he said:

"M. le Comte de Maurepas, the King sum­moned you to give him good advice, and you think only of maintaining your own authority. In opposing yourself to my seeing the Monarch, you are losing the monarchy, for I have but a limited time to give to France and, this time over, I shall not be seen here again until after three consecu­tive generations have gone down to the grave. I told the Queen all that I was permitted to tell her; my revelations to the King would have been more complete; it is unfortunate that you should have intervened between His Majesty and me. I shall have nothing to reproach myself with when horrible anarchy devastates all France. As to these calamities, you will not see them, but to have prepared them will be sufficient memorial of you.... Expect no homage from posterity, frivo­lous and incapable Minister! You will be ranked among those who cause the ruin of empires."[1]

"Monsieur de Maurepas died in 1781, seven and a half years before the storming of the Bastille, the symbolic end of the ancien regime. History remembers him as the one who dissuaded Louis XVI from instituting reforms which might have forestalled the Revolution and allowed France to avoid the Reign of Terror, passing smoothly from monarchy to republic.

"M. de Saint-Germain, having spoken thus without taking breath, turned towards the door again, shut it, and disappeared," Madame d’Adhémar writes. "All efforts to find the Count failed!"

And the lesson is wisely and painfully learned: an alchemist of greatest mastery, even the adept of the centuries, having only the best of inten­tions and the solution to global problems and the rise and fall of nations, must bow to the free will of mortals. He may advise, but not command; and when ignored, he is obliged to withdraw.

Monsieur de Saint Germain continued to write letters to the queen, warning of impending debacle, but once the crisis had reached a certain point there was nothing he could do to turn back the revolution that had been building since the death of that master statesman, Louis XIV.

Several years later, just before the storm broke. Saint Germain met Madame d'Adhemar again early one morning in a chapel in the Récollets in Paris. He predicted the doom of the king and queen and said that it was too late to save them. The following is her recording of the con­versation:

"What did I tell you, and the Queen too? that M. de Maurepas would let everything be lost, because he compromised everything. I was Cassandra, or a prophet of evil, and now how do you stand?"

"Ah! Comte, your wisdom will be useless."

"Madame, he who sows the wind reaps the whirlwind. Jesus said so in the Gospel, perhaps not before me, but at any rate his words remain writ­ten, and people could only have profited by mine."

"Again!" I said, trying to smile, but he with­out replying to my exclamation said:—

"I have written it to you, I can do nothing, my hands are tied by a stronger than myself. There are periods of time when to retreat is im­possible, others when He has pronounced and the decree will be executed. Into this we are entering."

"Will you see the Queen?"

"No, she is doomed."

"Doomed! To what?"

"To death!"

Oh, this time I could not keep back a cry, I rose on my seat, my hands repulsed the Comte, and in a trembling voice I said:

"And you too! you! what, you too!"

"Yes, I--I, like Cazotte."

"You know...."

"What you do not even suspect. Return to the Palace, go and tell the Queen to take heed to herself, that this day will be fatal to her; there is a plot, murder is premeditated."

"You fill me with horror, but the Comte d'Estaing has promised."

"He will take fright, and will hide himself."

"But M. de Lafayette…"

"A balloon puffed out with wind! Even now they are settling what to do with him,

whether he shall be instrument or victim; by noon all will be decided."

"Monsieur," I said, "you could render great services to our Sovereigns if you would."

"And if I cannot?"


"Yes; if I cannot? I thought I should not be listened to. The hour of repose is past, and the decrees of Providence must be fulfilled."

"In plain words, what do they want?"

"The complete ruin of the Bourbons; they will expel them from all the thrones they occupy, and in less than a century they will return to the rank of simple private individuals in their differ­ent branches."

"And France?"

"Kingdom, Republic, Empire, mixed Governments, tormented, agitated, torn; from clever tyrants she will pass to others who are ambitious without merit. She will be divided, parcelled out, cut up; and these are no pleonasms that I use, the coming times will bring about the overthrow of the Empire; pride will sway or abolish distinc­tions, not from virtue but from vanity, and it is through vanity that they will come back to them. The French, like children playing with handcuffs and slings, will play with titles, honours, ribbons; everything will be a toy to them, even to the shoulder-belt of the National Guard; the greedy will devour the finances. Some fifty mil­lions now form a deficit, in the name of which the Revolution is made. Well! under the dictatorship of the philanthropists, the rhetoricians, the fine talkers, the State debt will exceed several thou­sand millions!"

He took his leave of Madame d’Adhémar with these words, "I will take up my part again and leave you. I have a journey to take to Sweden; a great crime is brewing there, I am going to try to prevent it. His Majesty Gustavus III interests me, he is worth more than his renown." (Gustav III of Sweden, a monarch whose reign was known as the Swedish Enlightenment, introduced reforms such as free trade and freedom of the press while strengthening the monarchy. In the atmosphere created by an aristocratic conspiracy against him, he was shot and mortally wounded in March 1792.)

Departing the small chapel, the Wonder-man disappeared! Madame d’Adhémar´s confi­dential servant, who had been stationed at the door of the church, saw no one pass.

She herself, stunned by Saint Germain's words, remained in the chapel and decided not to warn the queen that day but to wait until the end of the week. By then it was too late.

Saint Germain's prophecy came true in astonishing detail. The next time Madame d’Adhémar saw him was at the Place de la Révo­lution October 16, 1793, at the beheading of Marie Antoinette. The Master was with her in the end as he had been with her from the beginning, watching over her from the moment she had arrived in France from Austria to become the ill-fated French queen. (The sixteenth and last child of the Holy Roman Emperor Francis I and Maria Theresa, Marie Antoinette was married to Louis XVI in an expediently arranged marriage between the Hapsburgs and the Bourbons in 1770.)

Next, Saint Germain backed Napoleon in a final attempt to establish the United States of Europe; le Petit Caporal took Saint Germain's power, but not his advice, and sought to use it in self-gain, exceeding the Master's instructions— whereupon Saint Germain withdrew, as by now he was wont to do, leaving the ambitious and foolhardy Napoleon to his Waterloo.

For Saint Germain, this was the coup de grace. His opportunity to set aside the retribution due an age had passed. And so the "Mystic Mes­senger" departed Europe. Henceforth, until his return in 1981, the only voice of fate the continent would hear or heed would be Karma.

While Napoleon was still a child, Franz Gräffer recalls the count saying, "... One needs to have studied in the Pyramids as I have studied. Towards the end of this century I shall disappear out of Europe, and betake myself to the region of the Himalayas. I will rest; I must rest. Exactly in eighty-five years will people again set eyes on me. Farewell, I love you." (See I. Cooper-Oakley, The Comte de St Germain: The Secret of Kings (London: The Theosophical Publishing House Limited, 1912), pp. 1, 27-29, 36-38, 42, 43, 50-52, 66-67, 72-73, 87-91, 99, 144-45. Available through Summit University Press.)

The rejection of Saint Germain by the crowned heads of Europe caused him to depart the visible world. And the words of Jesus' lamen­tation might well have been his own: "O Jerusa­lem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children to­gether, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!"


As he himself said, "Thus it is ever with us truthful people; deceivers are welcomed, but fie upon whoever says that which will come to pass!"


In his devotion to the cause of world free­dom, Saint Germain had been working diligently on many fronts. "Having failed in securing the attention of the Court of France and others of the crowned heads of Europe," he said through his twentieth-century Messenger Mark L. Prophet, "I turned myself to the perfectionment of man­kind at large, and I recognized that there were many who, hungering and thirsting after righ­teousness, would indeed be filled with the concept of a perfect union which would inspire them to take dominion over the New World and create a Union among the sovereign states. Thus the United States was born as a child of my heart and the American Revolution was the means of bringing freedom in all of its glory into manifes­tation from the East unto the West."

Even before the debacle in France, Saint Germain was busy forming a more perfect union out of the Thirteen Colonies. According to tradi­tion, on July 4, 1776, he inspired upon one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence an impassioned speech urging the patriots to "Sign that document!"

In a meeting in Cambridge, Massachusetts, he, "the mysterious old professor," inspired the designing of the flag. Throughout the Revolution he overshadowed General George Washington and when the time came anointed the Master Mason the first president of the United States of America.

True to his word, Saint Germain reappeared in the latter nineteenth century to assist the Mas­ters M. (El Morya), K.H. (Koot Hoomi), and Serapis Bey in the founding of the Theosophical Society. In the 1930s, Saint Germain contacted Guy and Edna Ballard and gave them the initia­tions and revelations they recorded in the books Unveiled Mysteries, The Magic Presence, and the I AM Discourses.

In 1958, the Ascended Master El Morya on Saint Germain's behalf founded The Summit Lighthouse in Washington, D.C., through Mark L. Prophet to continue the publishing of the Ascended Masters' Teachings and to maintain weekly contact with their chelas throughout the world through letters called Pearls of Wisdom.

Under the canopy of The Summit Light­house Saint Germain then sponsored the Keepers of the Flame Fraternity, providing graded lessons in cosmic law to those who would join him in keeping the Flame of Life for mankind. He dic­tated Studies in Alchemy in 1962. Intermediate Studies in Alchemy followed in 1970. The Trilogy on the Threefold Flame of Life was delivered by the Master as a transition between the two, whereas The Alchemy of the Word represents his tutoring of our souls by revelations and under­standings communicated during the past twenty-five years of our service together.

Saint Germain, by his own admission, has never ceased his behind-the-scenes activity to contact souls of light not only in Europe and America but throughout the world. His has been an unceasing effort to prevent World War III, nuclear holocaust, the dire predictions of Nostra­damus, the perils of the Fatima prophecy and a host of ills knocking at the doors of the nations whose rumblings recall Jesus' vision of these end times recorded in the Gospels and Revelation.

If the captains and the kings, the powerful and the weak-willed have ignored this world spokesman for freedom—this alchemist of the sacred fire par excellence—keepers of the flame of liberty in every nation have not.

At one point in his career, having lost faith in the ruling classes and any ability they might have had to change the course of history. Saint Germain was heard to exclaim, "O for ten thousand scrubwomen who will faithfully give to the cause! With these I will show you how to change the world with Divine Truth."

And so it came to pass... Through the com­mon people, whom the Lord and Abraham Lincoln also loved, Saint Germain's mission to bring indi­vidual freedom, peace and enlightenment to the earth continues unchecked and without parallel in the history of mankind. His is a message and a worldwide grass roots movement. He calls it his Coming Revolution in Higher Consciousness!

Every lover of freedom on earth, every spirit quickened by freedom's flame deserves to know his name, to make contact with his heart, to study his writings and to support his cause—which is the cause of all the people of planet earth.

To that end this little book, Saint Germain On Alchemy, is released to the world with greatest joy this Thanksgiving Day 1985.

Praise God who sent beloved Saint Germain to free our captive hearts in Jesus' name!

November 28, 1985

The Royal Teton Ranch "where my heart is"

Montana, U.S.A.