In the external we remember Saturn as an old man, and as a skeleton with a scythe-as Time, in fact. But see, O immortal soul, the real Saturn, as the Angel of Life, having from time gathered the experiences which crown him with light, holding the rod of power; the Christ born in the manger of Capricorn, the Goat-life born of death; the conqueror of evil. He throws off the mask of age, and divine youth beams on us. He doffs the mantle of rags, and royal splendors clothe him. He lifts the hood, and behold the crown.