ENERGIZED ENTHUSIASM

                              A NOTE ON THEURGY


                                      I

   I A O the supreme One of the Gnostics, the true God, is the Lord of this wor
k.  Let us therefore invoke Him by that name which the Companions of the royal
Arch blaspheme to aid us in the essay to declare the means which He has bestowe
d upon us!

                                      II

   The divine consciousness which is reflected and refracted in the works of Ge
nius feeds upon a certain secretion, as I believe.  This secretion is analogous
 to semen, but not identical with it.  There are but few men and fewer women, t
hose women being invariably androgyne, who possess it at any time in any quanti
ty.
   So closely is this secretion connected with the sexual economy that it appea
rs to me at times as if it might be a by-product of that process which generate
s semen.  That some form of this doctrine has been generally accepted is shown
in the prohibitions of all religions.  Sanctity has been assumed to depend on c
hastity, and chastity has nearly always been interpreted as abstinence.  But I
doubt whether the relation is so simple as this would imply; for example, I {19
} find in myself that manifestations of mental creative force always concur wit
h some abnormal condition of the physical powers of generation.  But it is not
the case that long periods of chastity, on the one hand, or excess of orgies, o
n the other, are favourable to its manifestation or even to its formation.
   I know myself, and in me it is extremely strong; its results are astounding.
   For example, I wrote "Tannhauser," complete from conception to execution, in
 sixty-seven consecutive hours.  I was unconscious of the fall of nights and da
ys, even after stopping; nor was there any reaction of fatigue.  This work was
written when I was twenty-four years old, immediately on the completion of an o
rgie which would normally have tired me out.
   Often and often have I noticed that sexual satisfaction so-called has left m
e dissatisfied and unfatigued, and let loose the floods of verse which have dis
graced my career.
   Yet, on the contrary, a period of chastity has sometimes fortified me for a
great outburst.  This is far from being invariably the case.  At the conclusion
 of the K 2 expedition, after five months of chastity, I did no work whatever,
barring very few odd lyrics, for months afterwards.
   I may mention the year 1911.  At this time I was living, in excellent good h
ealth, with the woman whom I loved.  Her health was, however, variable, and we
were both constantly worried.
   The weather was continuously fine and hot.  For a period of about three mont
hs I hardly missed a morning; always on waking I burst out with a new idea whic
h had to be written down. {20}
   The total energy of my being was very high.  My weight was 10 stone 8 lb., w
hich had been my fighting weight when I was ten years younger.  We walked some
twenty miles daily through hilly forest.
   The actual amount of MSS. written at this time is astounding; their variety
is even more so; of their excellence I will not speak.
   Here is a rough list from memory; it is far from exhaustive:

     (1) Some dozen books of A.'. A.'. instruction, including liber Astarte,
         and the Temple of Solomon the King for "Equinox VII."
     (2) Short Stories: The Woodcutter.
                        His Secret Sin.
     (3) Plays:         His Majesty's Fiddler
                        Elder Eel
                        Adonis    . written straight off, one
                        The Ghouls. after the other
                        Mortadello.
     (4) Poems:         The Sevenfold Sacrament
                        A Birthday.
     (5) Fundamentals of the Greek Qabalah (involving the collection and
         analysis of several thousand words).

   I think this phenomenon is unique in the history of literature.
   I may further refer to my second journey to Algeria, where my sexual life, t
hough fairly full, had been unsatisfactory.
   On quitting Biskra, I was so full of ideas that I had to get off the train a
t El-Kantara, where I wrote "The Scorpion."  Five or six poems were written on
the way to Paris; "The {21} Ordeal of Ida Pendragon" during my twenty-four hour
s' stay in Paris, and "Snowstorm" and "The Electric Silence" immediately on my
return to England.
   To sum up, I can always trace a connection between my sexual condition and t
he condition of artistic creation, which is so close as to approach identity, a
nd yet so loose that I cannot predicate a single important proposition.
   It is these considerations which give me pain when I am reproached by the ig
norant with wishing to produce genius mechanically.  I may fail, but my failure
 is a thousand times greater than their utmost success.
   I shall therefore base my remarks not so much on the observations which I ha
ve myself made, and the experiments which I have tried, as on the accepted clas
sical methods of producing that energized enthusiasm which is the lever that mo
ves God.

                                     III

   The Greeks say that there are three methods of discharging the genial secret
ion of which I have spoken.  They thought perhaps that their methods tended to
secrete it, but this I do not believe altogether, or without a qualm.  For the
manifestation of force implies force, and this force must have come from somewh
ere.  Easier I find it to say "subconsciousness" and "secretion" than to postul
ate an external reservoir, to extend my connotation of "man" than to invent "Go
d."
   However, parsimony apart, I find it in my experience that it is useless to f
log a tired horse.  There are times when I am absolutely bereft of even one dro
p of this elixir.  Nothing {22} will restore it, neither rest in bed, nor drugs
, nor exercise.  On the other hand, sometimes when after a severe spell of work
 I have been dropping with physical fatigue, perhaps sprawling on the floor, to
o tired to move hand or foot, the occurrence of an idea has restored me to perf
ect intensity of energy, and the working out of the idea has actually got rid o
f the aforesaid physical fatigue, although it involved a great additional labou
r.
   Exactly parallel (nowhere meeting) is the case of mania.  A madman may strug
gle against six trained athletes for hours, and show no sign of fatigue.  Then
he will suddenly collapse, but at a second's notice from the irritable idea wil
l resume the struggle as fresh as ever.  Until we discovered "unconscious muscu
lar action" and its effects, it was rational to suppose such a man "possessed o
f a devil"; and the difference between the madman and the genius is not in the
quantity but in the quality of their work.  Genius is organized, madness chaoti
c.  Often the organization of genius is on original lines, and ill-balanced and
 ignorant medicine-men mistake it for disorder.  Time has shown that Whistler a
nd Gauguin "kept rules" as well as the masters whom they were supposed to be up
setting.

                                      IV

   The Greeks say that there are three methods of discharging the Lyden Jar of
Genius.  These three methods they assign to three Gods.
   These three Gods are Dionysus, Apollo, Aphrodite.  In English: wine, woman a
nd song.
   Now it would be a great mistake to imagine that the {23} Greeks were recomme
nding a visit to a brothel.  As well condemn the High Mass at St. Peter's on th
e strength of having witnessed a Protestant revival meeting.  Disorder is alway
s a parody of order, because there is no archetypal disorder that it might rese
mble.  Owen Seaman can parody a poet; nobody can parody Owen Seaman.  A critic
is a bundle of impressions; there is no ego behind it.  All photographs are ess
entially alike; the works of all good painters essentially differ.
   Some writers suppose that in the ancient rites of Eleusis the High Priest pu
blicly copulated with the High Priestess.  Were this so, it would be no more "i
ndecent" than it is "blasphemous" for the priest to make bread and wine into th
e body and blood of God.
   True, the Protestants say that it is blasphemous; but a Protestant is one to
 whom all things sacred are profane, whose mind being all filth can see nothing
 in the sexual act but a crime or a jest, whose only facial gestures are the sn
eer and the leer.
   Protestantism is the excrement of human thought, and accordingly in Protesta
nt countries art, if it exist at all, only exists to revolt.  Let us return fro
m this unsavoury allusion to our consideration of the methods of the Greeks.

                                      V

   Agree then that it does not follow from the fact that wine, woman and song m
ake the sailor's tavern that these ingredients must necessarily concoct a hell-
broth.
   There are some people so simple as to think that, when {24} they have proved
 the religious instinct to be a mere efflorescence of the sex-instinct, they ha
ve destroyed religion.
   We should rather consider that the sailor's tavern gives him his only glimps
e of heaven, just as the destructive criticism of the phallicists has only prov
ed sex to be a sacrament.  Consciousness, says the materialist, axe in hand, is
 a function of the brain.  He has only re-formulated the old saying, "Your bodi
es are the temples of the Holy Ghost."!
   Now sex is justly hallowed in this sense, that it is the eternal fire of the
 race.  Huxley admitted that "some of the lower animalculae are in a sense immo
rtal," because they go on reproducing eternally by fission, and however often y
ou divide "x" by 2 there is always something left.  But he never seems to have
seen that mankind is immortal in exactly the same sense, and goes on reproducin
g itself with similar characteristics through the ages, changed by circumstance
 indeed, but always identical in itself.  But the spiritual flower of this proc
ess is that at the moment of discharge a physical ecstasy occurs, a spasm analo
gous to the mental spasm which meditation gives.  And further, in the sacrament
al and ceremonial use of the sexual act, the divine consciousness may be attain
ed.

                                      VI

   The sexual act being then a sacrament, it remains to consider in what respec
t this limits the employment of the organs.
   First, it is obviously legitimate to employ them for their natural physical
purpose.  But if it be allowable to use them {25} ceremonially for a religious
purpose, we shall find the act hedged about with many restrictions.
   For in this case the organs become holy.  It matters little to mere propagat
ion that men should be vicious; the most debauched roue might and almost certai
nly would beget more healthy children than a semi-sexed prude.  So the so-calle
d "moral" restraints are not based on reason; thus they are neglected.
   But admit its religious function, and one may at once lay down that the act
must not be profaned.  It must not be undertaken lightly and foolishly without
excuse.
   It may be undertaken for the direct object of continuing the race.
   It may be undertaken in obedience to real passion; for passion, as the name
implies, is rather inspired by a force of divine strength and beauty without th
e will of the individual, often even against it.
   It is the casual or habitual --- what Christ called "idle" --- use or rather
 abuse of these forces which constitutes their profanation.  It will further be
 obvious that, if the act in itself is to be the sacrament in a religious cerem
ony, this act must be accomplished solely for the love of God.  All personal co
nsiderations must be banished utterly.  Just as any priest can perform the mira
cle of transubstantiation, so can any man, possessing the necessary qualificati
ons, perform this other miracle, whose nature must form the subject of a subseq
uent discussion.
   Personal aims being destroyed, it is "a fortiori" necessary to neglect socia
l and other similar considerations.
   Physical strength and beauty are necessary and desirable {26} for aesthetic
reasons, the attention of the worshippers being liable to distraction if the ce
lebrants are ugly, deformed, or incompetent.  I need hardly emphasize the neces
sity for the strictest self-control and concentration on their part.  As it wou
ld be blasphemy to enjoy the gross taste of the wine of the sacrament, so must
the celebrant suppress even the minutest manifestation of animal pleasure.
   Of the qualifying tests there is no necessity to speak; it is sufficient to
say that the adepts have always known how to secure efficiency.
   Needless also to insist on a similar quality in the assistants; the sexual e
xcitement must be suppressed and transformed into its religious equivalent.

                                     VII

   With these preliminaries settle in order to guard against foreseen criticism
s of those Protestants who, God having made them a little lower than the Angels
, have made themselves a great deal lower than the beasts by their consistently
 bestial interpretation of all things human and divine, we may consider first t
he triune nature of these ancient methods of energizing enthusiasm.
   Music has two parts; tone or pitch, and rhythm.  The latter quality associat
es it with the dance, and that part of dancing which is not rhythm is sex.  Now
 that part of sex which is not a form of the dance, animal movement, is intoxic
ation of the soul, which connects it with wine.  Further identities will sugges
t themselves to the student. {27}
   By the use of the three methods in one the whole being of man may thus be st
imulated.
   The music will create a general harmony of the brain, leading it in its own
paths; the wine affords a general stimulus of the animal nature; and the sex-ex
citement elevates the moral nature of the man by its close analogy with the hig
hest ecstasy.  It remains, however, always for him to make the final transmutat
ion.  Unless he have the special secretion which I have postulated, the result
will be commonplace.
   So consonant is this system with the nature of man that it is exactly parodi
ed and profaned not only in the sailor's tavern, but in the society ball.  Here
, for the lowest natures the result is drunkenness, disease and death; for the
middle natures a gradual blunting of the finer feelings; for the higher, an exh
ilaration amounting at the best to the foundation of a life-long love.
   If these Society "rites" are properly performed, there should be no exhausti
on.  After a ball, one should feel the need of a long walk in the young morning
 air.  The weariness or boredom, the headache or somnolence, are Nature's warni
ngs.

                                     VIII

   Now the purpose of such a ball, the moral attitude on entering, seems to me
to be of supreme importance.  If you go with the idea of killing time, you are
rather killing yourself.  Baudelaire speaks of the first period of love when th
e boy kisses the trees of the wood, rather than kiss nothing.  At the age of th
irty-six I found myself at Pompeii, passionately {28} kissing that great grave
statue of a woman that stands in the avenue of the tombs.  Even now, as I wake
in the morning, I sometimes fall to kissing my own arms.
   It is with such a feeling that one should go to a ball, and with such a feel
ing intensified, purified and exalted, that one should leave it.
   If this be so, how much more if one go with the direct religious purpose bur
ning in one's whole being!  Beethoven roaring at the sunrise is no strange spec
tacle to me, who shout with joy and wonder, when I understand (without which on
e cannot really be said ever to see) a blade of grass.  I fall upon my knees in
 speechless adoration at the moon; I hide my eyes in holy awe from a good Van G
ogh.
   Imagine then a ball in which the music is the choir celestial, the wine the
wine of the Graal, or that of the Sabbath of the Adepts, and one's partner the
Infinite and Eternal One, the True and Living God Most High!
   Go even to a common ball --- the Moulin de la Galette will serve even the le
ast of my magicians --- with your whole soul aflame within you, and your whole
will concentrated on these transubstantiations, and tell me what miracle takes
place!
   It is the hate of, the distaste for, life that sends one to the ball when on
e is old; when one is young one is on springs until the hour falls; but the lov
e of God, which is the only true love, diminishes not with age; it grows deeper
 and intenser with every satisfaction.  It seems as if in the noblest men this
secretion constantly increases --- which certainly suggests an external reservo
ir --- so that age loses all its bitterness.  We find "Brother Lawrence," Nicho
las Herman of Lorraine, at the age of eighty in continuous enjoyment of {29} un
ion with God.  Buddha at an equal age would run up and down the Eight High Tran
ces like an acrobat on a ladder; stories not too dissimilar are told of Bishop
Berkeley.  Many persons have not attained union at all until middle age, and th
en have rarely lost it.
   It is true that genius in the ordinary sense of the word has nearly always s
howed itself in the young.  Perhaps we should regard such cases as Nicholas Her
man as cases of acquired genius.
   Now I am certainly of opinion that genius can be acquired, or, in the altern
ative, that it is an almost universal possession.  Its rarity may be attributed
 to the crushing influence of a corrupted society.  It is rare to meet a youth
without high ideals, generous thoughts, a sense of holiness, of his own importa
nce, which, being interpreted, is, of his own identity with God.  Three years i
n the world, and he is a bank clerk or even a government official.  Only those
who intuitively understand from early boyhood that they must stand out, and who
 have the incredible courage and endurance to do so in the face of all that tyr
anny, callousness, and the scorn of inferiors can do; only these arrive at manh
ood uncontaminated.
   Every serious or spiritual thought is made a jest; poets are thought "soft"
and "cowardly," apparently because they are the only boys with a will of their
own and courage to hold out against the whole school, boys and masters in leagu
e as once were Pilate and Herod; honour is replaced by expediency, holiness by
hypocrisy.
   Even where we find thoroughly good seed sprouting in favourable ground, too
often is there a frittering away of the forces.  Facile encouragement of a poet
 or painter is far {30} worse for him than any amount of opposition.  Here agai
n the sex question (S.Q. so-called by Tolstoyans, chastity-mongers, nut-fooders
, and such who talk and think of nothing else) intrudes its horrid head.  I bel
ieve that every boy is originally conscious of sex as sacred.  But he does not
know what it is.  With infinite diffidence he asks.  The master replies with ho
ly horror; the boy with a low leer, a furtive laugh, perhaps worse.
   I am inclined to agree with the Head Master of Eton that paederastic passion
s among schoolboys "do no harm"; further, I think them the only redeeming featu
re of sexual life at public schools.
   The Hindoos are wiser.  At the well-watched hour of puberty the boy is prepa
red as for a sacrament; he is led to a duly consecrated temple, and there by a
wise and holy woman, skilled in the art, and devoted to this end, he is initiat
ed with all solemnity into the mystery of life.
   The act is thus declared religious, sacred, impersonal, utterly apart from a
morism and eroticism and animalism and sentimentalism and all the other vilenes
ses that Protestantism has made of it.
   The Catholic Church did, I believe, to some extent preserve the Pagan tradit
ion.  Marriage is a sacrament.>  But in the attempt to deprive the act of all a
ccretions which would profane it, the Fathers of the Church added in spite of t
hemselves other accretions which profaned it more.  They tied it to property an
d inheritance.  They wished it to serve both God and Mammon. {31}
   Rightly restraining the priest, who should employ his whole energy in the mi
racle of the Mass, they found their counsel a counsel of perfection.  The magic
al tradition was in part lost; the priest could not do what was expected of him
, and the unexpended portion of his energy turned sour.
   Hence the thoughts of priests, like the thoughts of modern faddists, revolve
d eternally around the S.Q.
   A special and Secret Mass, a Mass of the Holy Ghost, a Mass of the Mystery o
f the Incarnation, to be performed at stated intervals, might have saved both m
onks and nuns, and given the Church eternal dominion of the world.

                                      IX

   To return.  The rarity of genius is in great part due to the destruction of
its young.  Even as in physical life that is a favoured plant one of whose thou
sand seeds ever shoots forth a blade, so do conditions kill all but the stronge
st sons of genius.
   But just as rabbits increased apace in Australia, where even a missionary ha
s been known to beget ninety children in two years, so shall we be able to bree
d genius if we can find the conditions which hamper it, and remove them.
   The obvious practical step to take is to restore the rites of Bacchus, Aphro
dite and Apollo to their proper place.  They should not be open to every one, a
nd manhood should be the reward of ordeal and initiation.
   The physical tests should be severe, and weaklings should be killed out rath
er than artificially preserved.  The same remark applies to intellectual tests.
  But such tests should be as wide as possible.  I was an absolute duffer at sc
hool in all {32} forms of athletics and games, because I despised them.  I held
, and still hold, numerous mountaineering world's records.  Similarly, examinat
ions fail to test intelligence.  Cecil Rhodes refused to employ any man with a
University degree.  That such degrees lead to honour in England is a sign of En
gland's decay, though even in England they are usually the stepping-stones to c
lerical idleness or pedagogic slavery.
   Such is a dotted outline of the picture that I wish to draw.  If the power t
o possess property depended on a man's competence, and his perception of real v
alues, a new aristocracy would at once be created, and the deadly fact that soc
ial consideration varies with the power of purchasing champagne would cease to
be a fact.  Our pluto-hetairo-politicocracy would fall in a day.
   But I am only too well aware that such a picture is not likely to be painted
.  We can then only work patiently and in secret.  We must select suitable mate
rial and train it in utmost reverence to these three master-methods, or aiding
the soul in its genial orgasm.

                                      X

   This reverent attitude is of an importance which I cannot over-rate.  Normal
 people find normal relief from any general or special excitement in the sexual
 act.
   Commander Marston, R.N., whose experiments in the effect of the tom-tom on t
he married Englishwoman are classical and conclusive, has admirably described h
ow the vague unrest which she at first shows gradually assumes the sexual form,
 and culminates, if allowed to do so, in shameless masturbation or indecent adv
ances.  But this is a natural {33} corollary of the proposition that married En
glishwomen are usually unacquainted with sexual satisfaction.  Their desires ar
e constantly stimulated by brutal and ignorant husbands, and never gratified.
This fact again accounts for the amazing prevalence of Sapphism in London Socie
ty.
   The Hindus warn their pupils against the dangers of breathing exercises.  In
deed the slightest laxness in moral or physical tissues may cause the energy ac
cumulated by the practice to discharge itself by involuntary emission.  I have
known this happen in my own experience.
   It is then of the utmost importance to realize that the relief of the tensio
n is to be found in what the Hebrews and the Greeks called prophesying, and whi
ch is better when organized into art.  The disorderly discharge is mere waste,
a wilderness of howlings; the orderly discharge is a "Prometheus unbound," or a
 L'age d'airain," according to the special aptitudes of the enthused person.  B
ut it must be remembered that special aptitudes are very easy to acquire if the
 driving force of enthusiasm be great.  If you cannot keep the rules of others,
 you make rules of your own.  One set turns out in the long run to be just as g
ood as another.
   Henry Rousseau, the duanier, was laughed at all his life.  I laughed as hear
tily as the rest; though, almost despite myself, I kept on saying (as the phras
e goes) "that I felt something; couldn't say what."
   The moment it occurred to somebody to put up all his paintings in one room b
y themselves, it was instantly apparent that his "naivete" was the simplicity o
f a Master.
   Let no one then imagine that I fail to perceive or underestimate the dangers
 of employing these methods.  The {34} occurrence even of so simple a matter as
 fatigue might change a LasMeninas into a stupid sexual crisis.
   It will be necessary for most Englishmen to emulate the self-control of the
Arabs and Hindus, whose ideal is to deflower the greatest possible number of vi
rgins --- eighty is considered a fairly good performance --- without completing
 the act.
   It is, indeed, of the first importance for the celebrant in any phallic rite
 to be able to complete the act without even once allowing a sexual or sensual
thought to invade his mind.  The mind must be as absolutely detached from one's
 own body as it is from another person's.

                                      XI

   Of musical instruments few are suitable.  The human voice is the best, and t
he only one which can be usefully employed in chorus.  Anything like an orchest
ra implies infinite rehearsal, and introduces an atmosphere of artificiality.
The organ is a worthy solo instrument, and is an orchestra in itself, while its
 tone and associations favour the religious idea.
   The violin is the most useful of all, for its every mood expresses the hunge
r for the infinite, and yet it is so mobile that it has a greater emotional ran
ge than any of its competitors.  Accompaniment must be dispensed with, unless a
 harpist be available.
   The harmonium is a horrible instrument, if only because of its associations;
 and the piano is like unto it, although, if unseen and played by a Paderewski,
 it would serve.
   The trumpet and the bell are excellent, to startle, at the crisis of a cerem
ony. {35}
   Hot, drubbing, passionate, in a different class of ceremony, a class more in
tense and direct, but on the whole less exalted, the tom-tom stands alone.  It
combines well with the practice of mantra, and is the best accompaniment for an
y sacred dance.

                                     XII

   Of sacred dances the most practical for a gathering is the seated dance.  On
e sits cross-legged on the floor, and sways to and fro from the hips in time wi
th the mantra.  A solo or duet of dancers as a spectacle rather distracts from
this exercise.  I would suggest a very small and very brilliant light on the fl
oor in the middle of the room.  Such a room is best floored with mosaic marble;
 an ordinary Freemason's Lodge carpet is not a bad thing.
   The eyes, if they see anything at all, see then only the rhythmical or mecha
nical squares leading in perspective to the simple unwinking light.
   The swinging of the body with the mantra (which has a habit of rising and fa
lling as if of its own accord in a very weird way) becomes more accentuated; ul
timately a curiously spasmodic stage occurs, and then the consciousness flicker
s and goes out; perhaps breaks through into the divine consciousness, perhaps i
s merely recalled to itself by some variable in external impression.
   The above is a very simple description of a very simple and earnest form of
ceremony, based entirely upon rhythm.
   It is very easy to prepare, and its results are usually very encouraging for
 the beginner {36}

                                     XIII

   Wine being a mocker and strong drink raging, its use is more likely to lead
to trouble than mere music.
   One essential difficulty is dosage.  One needs exactly enough; and, as Blake
 points out, one can only tell what is enough by taking too much.  For each man
 the dose varies enormously; so does it for the same man at different times.
   The ceremonial escape from this is to have a noiseless attendant to bear the
 bowl of libation, and present it to each in turn, at frequent intervals.  Smal
l doses should be drunk, and the bowl passed on, taken as the worshipper deems
advisable.  Yet the cup-bearer should be an initiate, and use his own discretio
n before presenting the bowl.  The slightest sign that intoxication is masterin
g the man should be a sign to him to pass that man.  This practice can be easil
y fitted to the ceremony previously described.
   If desired, instead of wine, the elixir introduced by me to Europe may be em
ployed.  But its results, if used in this way, have not as yet been thoroughly
studied.  It is my immediate purpose to repair this neglect.

                                     XIV

   The sexual excitement, which must complete the harmony of method, offers a m
ore difficult problem.
   It is exceptionally desirable that the actual bodily movements involved shou
ld be decorous in the highest sense, and many people are so ill-trained that th
ey will be unable to regard such a ceremony with any but critical or lascivious
 {37} eyes; either would be fatal to all the good already done.  It is presumab
ly better to wait until all present are greatly exalted before risking a profan
ation.
   It is not desirable, in my opinion, that the ordinary worshippers should cel
ebrate in public.
   The sacrifice should be single.
   Whether or no ...

                                      XV

   Thus far had I written when the distinguished poet, whose conversation with
me upon the Mysteries had incited me to jot down these few rough notes, knocked
 at my door.  I told him that I was at work on the ideas suggested by him, and
that --- well, I was rather stuck.  He asked permission to glance at the MS. (f
or he reads English fluently, though speaking but a few words), and having done
 so, kindled and said: "If you come with me now, we will finish your essay."  G
lad enough of any excuse to stop working, the more plausible the better, I hast
ened to take down my coat and hat.
   "By the way," he remarked in the automobile, "I take it that you do not mind
 giving me the Word of Rose Croix."  Surprised, I exchanged the secrets of I.N.
R.I. with him.  "And now, very excellent and perfect Prince," he said, "what fo
llows is under this seal."  And he gave me the most solemn of all Masonic token
s.  "You are about," said he, "to compare your ideal with our real."
   He touched a bell.  The automobile stopped, and we got out.  He dismissed th
e chauffeur.  "Come," he said, "we have a brisk half-mile."  We walked through
thick woods to {38} an old house, where we were greeted in silence by a gentlem
an who, though in court dress, wore a very "practicable" sword.  On satisfying
him, we were passed through a corridor to an anteroom, where another armed guar
dian awaited us.  He, after a further examination, proceeded to offer me a cour
t dress, the insignia of a Sovereign Prince of Rose Croix, and a garter and man
tle, the former of green silk, the latter of green velvet, and lined with ceris
e silk.  "It is a low mass," whispered the guardian.  In this anteroom were thr
ee or four others, both ladies and gentlemen, busily robing.
   In a third room we found a procession formed, and joined it.  There were twe
nty-six of us in all.  Passing a final guardian we reached the chapel itself, a
t whose entrance stood a young man and a young woman, both dressed in simple ro
bes of white silk embroidered with gold, red and blue.  The former bore a torch
 of resinous wood, the latter sprayed us as we passed with attar of roses from
a cup.
   The room in which we now were had at one time been a chapel; so much its sha
pe declared.  But the high altar was covered with a cloth that displayed the Ro
se and Cross, while above it were ranged seven candelabra, each of seven branch
es.
   The stalls had been retained; and at each knight's hand burned a taper of ro
se-coloured wax, and a bouquet of roses was before him.
   In the centre of the nave was a great cross --- a "calvary cross of ten squa
res," measuring, say, six feet by five --- painted in red upon a white board, a
t whose edge were rings through which passed gilt staves.  At each corner was a
 banner, bearing lion, bull, eagle and man, and from the top of their {39} stav
es sprang a canopy of blue, wherein were figured in gold the twelve emblems of
the Zodiac.
   Knights and Dames being installed, suddenly a bell tinkled in the architrave
.  Instantly all rose.  The doors opened at a trumpet peal from without, and a
herald advanced, followed by the High Priest and Priestess.
   The High Priest was a man of nearly sixty years, if I may judge by the white
 beard; but he walked with the springy yet assured step of the thirties.  The H
igh Priestess, a proud, tall sombre woman of perhaps thirty summers, walked by
his side, their hands raised and touching as in the minuet.  Their trains were
borne by the two youths who had admitted us.
   All this while an unseen organ played an Introit.
   This ceased as they took their places at the altar.  They faced West, waitin
g.
   On the closing of the doors the armed guard, who was clothed in a scarlet ro
be instead of green, drew his sword, and went up and down the aisle, chanting e
xorcisms and swinging the great sword.  All present drew their swords and faced
 outward, holding the points in front of them.  This part of the ceremony appea
red interminable.  When it was over the girl and boy reappeared; bearing, the o
ne a bowl, the other a censer.  Singing some litany or other, apparently in Gre
ek, though I could not catch the words, they purified and consecrated the chape
l.
   Now the High Priest and High Priestess began a litany in rhythmic lines of e
qual length.  At each third response they touched hands in a peculiar manner; a
t each seventh they kissed.  The twenty-first was a complete embrace.  The bell
 tinkled in the architrave; and they parted.  The High Priest {40} then took fr
om the altar a flask curiously shaped to imitate a phallus.  The High Priestess
 knelt and presented a boat-shaped cup of gold.  He knelt opposite her, and did
 not pour from the flask.
   Now the Knights and Dames began a long litany; first a Dame in treble, then
a Knight in bass, then a response in chorus of all present with the organ.  Thi
s Chorus was:
   EVOE HO, IACCHE!  EPELTHON, EPELTHON, EVOE, IAO! Again and again it rose and
 fell.  Towards its close, whether by "stage effect" or no I could not swear, t
he light over the altar grew rosy, then purple.  The High Priest sharply and su
ddenly threw up his hand; instant silence.
   He now poured out the wine from the flask.  The High Priestess gave it to th
e girl attendant, who bore it to all present.
   This was no ordinary wine.  It has been said of vodki that it looks like wat
er and tastes like fire.  With this wine the reverse is the case.  It was of a
rich fiery gold in which flames of light danced and shook, but its taste was li
mpid and pure like fresh spring water.  No sooner had I drunk of it, however, t
hat I began to tremble.  It was a most astonishing sensation; I can imagine a m
an feel thus as he awaits his executioner, when he has passed through fear, and
 is all excitement.
   I looked down my stall, and saw that each was similarly affected.  During th
e libation the High Priestess sang a hymn, again in Greek.  This time I recogni
zed the words; they were those of an ancient Ode to Aphrodite.
   The boy attendant now descended to the red cross, stooped and kissed it; the
n he danced upon it in such a way that he {41} seemed to be tracing the pattern
s of a marvellous rose of gold, for the percussion caused a shower of bright du
st to fall from the canopy.  Meanwhile the litany (different words, but the sam
e chorus) began again.  This time it was a duet between the High Priest and Pri
estess.  At each chorus Knights and Dames bowed low.  The girl moved round cont
inuously, and the bowl passed.
   This ended in the exhaustion of the boy, who fell fainting on the cross.  Th
e girl immediately took the bowl and put it to his lips.  Then she raised him,
and, with the assistance of the Guardian of the Sanctuary, led him out of the c
hapel.
   The bell again tinkled in the architrave.
   The herald blew a fanfare.
   The High Priest and High Priestess moved stately to each other and embraced,
 in the act unloosing the heavy golden robes which they wore.  These fell, twin
 lakes of gold.  I now saw her dressed in a garment of white watered silk, line
d throughout (as it appeared later) with ermine.
   The High Priest's vestment was an elaborate embroidery of every colour, harm
onized by exquisite yet robust art.  He wore also a breastplate corresponding t
o the canopy; a sculptured "beast" at each corner in gold, while the twelve sig
ns of the Zodiac were symbolized by the stones of the breastplace.
   The bell tinkled yet again, and the herald again sounded his trumpet.  The c
elebrants moved hand in hand down the nave while the organ thundered forth its
solemn harmonies.
   All the knights and Dames rose and gave the secret sign of the Rose Croix.
   It was at this part of the ceremony that things began to {42} happen to me.
 I became suddenly aware that my body had lost both weight and tactile sensibil
ity.  My consciousness seemed to be situated no longer in my body.  I "mistook
myself," if I may use the phrase, for one of the stars in the canopy.
   In this way I missed seeing the celebrants actually approach the cross.  The
 bell tinkled again; I came back to myself, and then I saw that the High Priest
ess, standing at the foot of the cross, had thrown her robe over it, so that th
e cross was no longer visible.  There was only a board covered with ermine.  Sh
e was now naked but for her coloured and jewelled head-dress and the heavy torq
ue of gold about her neck, and the armlets and anklets that matched it.  She be
gan to sing in a soft strange tongue, so low and smoothly that in my partial be
wilderment I could not hear all; but I caught a few words, Io Paian!  Io Pan! a
nd a phrase in which the words Iao Sabao ended emphatically a sentence in which
 I caught the words Eros, Thelema and Sebazo.
   While she did this she unloosed the breastplate and gave it to the girl atte
ndant.  The robe followed; I saw that they were naked and unashamed.  For the f
irst time there was absolute silence.
   Now, from an hundred jets surrounding the board poured forth a perfumed purp
le smoke.  The world was wrapt in a fond gauze of mist, sacred as the clouds up
on the mountains.
   Then at a signal given by the High Priest, the bell tinkled once more.  The
celebrants stretched out their arms in the form of a cross, interlacing their f
ingers.  Slowly they revolved through three circles and a half.  She then laid
him down upon the cross, and took her own appointed place. {43}
   The organ now again rolled forth its solemn music.
   I was lost to everything.  Only this I saw, that the celebrants made no expe
cted motion.  The movements were extremely small and yet extremely strong.
   This must have continued for a great length of time.  To me it seemed as if
eternity itself could not contain the variety and depth of my experiences.  Ton
gue nor pen could record them; and yet I am fain to attempt the impossible.
   1. I was, certainly and undoubtedly, the star in the canopy.  This star was
an incomprehensibly enormous world of pure flame.
   2. I suddenly realized that the star was of no size whatever.  It was not th
at the star shrank, but that it (= I) became suddenly conscious of infinite spa
ce.
   3. An explosion took place.  I was in consequence a point of light, infinite
ly small, yet infinitely bright, and this point was "without position."
   4. Consequently this point was ubiquitous, and there was a feeling of infini
te bewilderment, blinded after a very long time by a gush of infinite rapture (
I use the word "blinded" as if under constraint; I should have preferred to use
 the words "blotted out" or "overwhelmed" or "illuminated").
   5. This infinite fullness --- I have not described it as such, but it was th
at --- was suddenly changed into a feeling of infinite emptiness, which became
conscious as a yearning.
   6. These two feelings began to alternate, always with suddenness, and withou
t in any way overlapping, with great rapidity.
   7. This alternation must have occurred fifty times --- I had rather have sai
d an hundred. {44}
   8. The two feelings suddenly became one.  Again the word explosion is the on
ly one that gives any idea of it.
   9. I now seemed to be conscious of everything at once, that it was at the sa
me time "one" and "many."  I say "at once," that is, I was not successively all
 things, but instantaneously.
   10. This being, if I may call it being, seemed to drop into an infinite abys
s of Nothing.
   11. While this "falling" lasted, the bell suddenly tinkled three times.  I i
nstantly became my normal self, yet with a constant awareness, which has never
left me to this hour, that the truth of the matter is not this normal "I" but "
That" which is still dropping into Nothing.  I am assured by those who know tha
t I may be able to take up the thread if I attend another ceremony.
   The tinkle died away.  The girl attendant ran quickly forward and folded the
 ermine over the celebrants.  The herald blew a fanfare, and the Knights and Da
mes left their stalls.  Advancing to the board, we took hold of the gilded carr
ying poles, and followed the herald in procession out of the chapel, bearing th
e litter to a small side-chapel leading out of the middle anteroom, where we le
ft it, the guard closing the doors.
   In silence we disrobed, and left the house.  About a mile through the woods
we found my friend's automobile waiting.
   I asked him, if that was a low mass, might I not be permitted to witness a H
igh Mass?
   "Perhaps," he answered with a curious smile, "if all they tell of you is tru
e."
   In the meanwhile he permitted me to describe the ceremony and its results as
 faithfully as I was able, charging me only to give no indication of the city n
ear which it took place. {45}
   I am willing to indicate to initiates of the Rose Croix degree of Masonry un
der proper charter from the genuine authorities (for there are spurious Masons
working under a forged charter) the address of a person willing to consider the
ir fitness to affiliate to a Chapter practising similar rites.

                                     XVI

   I consider it supererogatory to continue my essay on the Mysteries and my an
alysis of "Energized Enthusiasm."

 {46}