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It is the ideal, the sun of Eternity, which warms and makes fruitful with joy and beauty both the saints and the artists.
The one who has received the kiss of the idea rejects the vain joy of humans; he is the betrothed of the vermillion beyond, he is the knight of a pure thought.
If he makes his magical power serve personal designs, his forehead, soon tarnished, will lose the luminous trace of the sephiric relating to the Sefirot, the ten divine emanations of the Kabbalah kiss. But if, as a pious lover of the beautiful Norms, he sacrifices his own glory and the current joys that the age grants to the traitor incessantly to the oriflamme, then the force of the Ideal, without equal, coats him in mail and a helmet of invincibility; he is no longer a mortal, and the angels themselves assist him with their arms.
The marvelous mystery of the Ideal was revealed by My Lord Jesus, when he taught us the voluntary sacrifice, the gift of self for the redemption of all.
Artist who has not called upon your work the ray of the divine, listen: I reveal here the reward promised to the false ones of the Ideal. Do you know that art descends from heaven just as life flows to us from the sun? That there is no masterpiece that is not the reflection of an eternal idea? That what we call ab-