Stories of the marvellous and mischievous doings of St. Germain are among the most addictive of readings. And few stories are more wonderful than his alleged speech before the nascent Colonial or Continental Congress meetings where he exhorted the assembled representatives to sign the Declaration of Independence.

I have to admit that, when I first read Isabel Cooper-Oakley’s The Comte de St. Germain (available free here: http://tinyurl.com/3rzvr5x), I didn’t stop reading his published works until I had read every (credible) thing I could lay my hands on.

So here, for you reading enjoyment, is Robert Allen Campbell’s account of the Professor’s intervention at the Continental Congress from his small book, Our Flag. Do I know if it’s true? Do I really care? No.

“Little seems to have been known concerning this old gentleman; and in the materials from which this account is compiled, his name is not even once mentioned, for he is uniformly spoken of or referred to as ‘the Professor.’ He was evidently far beyond his threescore and ten years; and he often referred to historical events of more than a century previous just as if he had been a living witness to their occurrence; still he was erect, vigorous and active—hale, hearty and clear-minded, as strong and energetic every way as in the prime of life.

He was tall, of fine figure, perfectly easy, very dignified in his manners, being at once courteous, gracious and commanding. He was, for those times, and considering the customs of the Colonists, very peculiar in his method of living; for he ate no flesh, fowl or fish; he never used for food any ‘green thing’, any roots or anything unripe; he drank no liquor, wine or ale; but confined his diet to cereals and their products, fruits that were ripened on the stem in the sun, nuts, mild tea and the sweet of honey, sugar and molasses. [ Editor's note: The Comte de Saint Germain's same abstemious behavior regarding food was well documented in Europe.]

“He was well educated, highly cultivated, of extensive as well as varied information, and very studious. He spent considerable of his time in the patient and persistent scanning of a number of very rare old books and ancient manuscripts which he seemed to be deciphering, translating or rewriting.

These books, and manuscripts, together with his own writings, he never showed to anyone; and he did not even mention them in his conversations with the family, except in the most casual way; and he always locked them up carefully in a large, old-fashioned, cubically shaped, iron-bound, heavy oaken chest, whenever he left his room, even for his meals.

He took long and frequent walks alone, sat on the brows of the neighboring hills, or mused in the midst of the green and flower-gemmed meadows. He was fairly liberal—but in no way lavish—in spending his money, with which he was well supplied. He was a quiet, though a very genial and very interesting member of the family; and he was seemingly at home upon any and every topic coming up in conversation. He was, in short, one whom everyone would notice and respect, whom few would feel well acquainted with, and whom no one would presume to question concerning himself—as to whence he came, why he tarried or whither he journeyed.”

“By something more than a mere coincidence, the committee appointed by the Colonial Congress to design a flag accepted an invitation to be guests, while at Cambridge, of the family with which the Professor was staying. It was here that General Washington joined them for the purpose of deciding upon a fitting emblem. By the signs that passed between them, it was evident that General Washington and Doctor Franklin recognized the Professor, and by unanimous approval, he was invited to become an active member of the committee. During the proceedings which followed, the Professor was treated with the most profound respect and all his suggestions immediately acted upon. He submitted a pattern which he considered symbolically appropriate for the new flag, and this was unhesitatingly accepted by the six other members of the committee, who voted that the arrangement suggested by the Professor be forthwith adopted. After the episode of the flag, the Professor quickly vanished; and nothing further is known concerning him.

“Did General Washington and Doctor Franklin recognize the Professor as an emissary of the Mystery School which has so long controlled the political destinies of this planet? Benjamin Franklin was a philosopher and a Freemason—possibly a Rosicrucian initiate. He and the Marquis de Lafayette—also a man of mystery—constitute two of the important links in the chain of circumstance that culminated in the establishment of the original thirteen American colonies as a free and independent nation. Dr. Franklin’s philosophic attainments are well attested in Poor Richard’s Almanac, published by him for many years under the name of Richard Saunders. His interest in the cause of Freemasonry is also shown in his publication of Anderson’s Constitutions of ‘Freemasonry.

“It was during the, evening of July 4, 1776, that the second of these mysterious episodes occurred. In the old State House in Philadelphia, a group of men were gathered for the momentous task of severing the tie between the old country and the new. It was a grave moment, and not a few of those present feared that their lives would be the forfeit for their audacity.

In the midst of the debate a fierce voice rang out. The debaters stopped and turned to look upon the stranger. Who was this man who had suddenly appeared in their midst and had transfixed them with his oratory? They had never seen him before, none knew when he had entered; but his tall form and pale face filled them with awe. His voice ringing with a holy zeal, the stranger stirred them to their very souls. His closing words rang. through the building, ‘God has given America to be free!’

As the stranger sank into a chair exhausted, a wild enthusiasm burst forth. Name after name was placed upon the parchment: the Declaration of Independence was signed. But where was the man who had precipitated the accomplishment of this immortal task—who had lifted for a moment the veil from the eyes of the assemblage and revealed to them a part at least of the great purpose for which the, new nation was conceived? He had disappeared, nor was he ever seen or his identity established. This episode parallels others of a similar kind recorded by ancient historians attendant upon the founding of every new nation. Are they coincidence, or do they indicate that the divine wisdom of the ancient mysteries still is present in the world, serving mankind as it did of old?”

http://stevebeckow.com/2011/10/st-germain-addresses-the-continental-congress/