Contents
Energized Enthusiasm
A Note on Theurgy
I
I A O the supreme One of the Gnostics, the true God, is the Lord of this work.
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 bestowed
upon us!
Ii
The divine consciousness which is reflected and refracted in the works of Genius
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, those
women being invariably androgyne, who possess it at any time in any quantity.
So closely is this secretion connected with the sexual economy that it appears
to me at times as if it might be a by-product of that process which generates
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
chastity, 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 find in myself that manifestations of mental creative force always concur
with 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,
on 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
days, 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 orgie which would normally have tired me out.
Often and often have I noticed that sexual satisfaction so-called has left
me dissatisfied and unfatigued, and let loose the floods of verse which have
disgraced 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 health,
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 months I hardly missed a morning; always on waking I burst out
with a new idea which had to be written down. The total energy of my being was
very high. My weight was 10 stone 8 lb., which 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, though fairly full,
had been unsatisfactory.
On quitting Biskra, I was so full of ideas that I had to get off the train
at El-Kantara, where I wrote "The Scorpion." Five or six poems were
written on the way to Paris; "The Ordeal of Ida Pendragon" during
my twenty-four hours' 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
the condition of artistic creation, which is so close as to approach identity,
and 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 ignorant
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 have
myself made, and the experiments which I have tried, as on the accepted classical
methods of producing that energized enthusiasm which is the lever that moves
God.
Iii
The Greeks say that there are three methods of discharging the genial secretion
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 somewhere.
Easier I find it to say "subconsciousness" and "secretion"
than to postulate an external reservoir, to extend my connotation of "man"
than to invent "God." However, parsimony apart, I find it in my experience
that it is useless to flog a tired horse. There are times when I am absolutely
bereft of even one drop of this elixir. Nothing 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, too tired to move hand or foot, the occurrence of an idea has
restored me to perfect intensity of energy, and the working out of the idea
has actually got rid of the aforesaid physical fatigue, although it involved
a great additional labour.
Exactly parallel (nowhere meeting) is the case of mania. A madman may struggle
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 will
resume the struggle as fresh as ever. Until we discovered "unconscious
muscular action" and its effects, it was rational to suppose such a man
"possessed of 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 chaotic. 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 and Gauguin "kept rules" as well as
the masters whom they were supposed to be upsetting.
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 and
song.
Now it would be a great mistake to imagine that the Greeks were recommending
a visit to a brothel. As well condemn the High Mass at St. Peter's on the strength
of having witnessed a Protestant revival meeting. Disorder is always a parody
of order, because there is no archetypal disorder that it might resemble. 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 essentially alike;
the works of all good painters essentially differ.
Some writers suppose that in the ancient rites of Eleusis the High Priest publicly
copulated with the High Priestess. Were this so, it would be no more "indecent"
than it is "blasphemous" for the priest to make bread and wine into
the 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 sneer and the leer. Protestantism is the excrement of
human thought, and accordingly in Protestant countries art, if it exist at all,
only exists to revolt. Let us return from 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
make the sailor's tavern that these ingredients must necessarily concoct a hell-broth.
There are some people so simple as to think that, when they have proved the
religious instinct to be a mere efflorescence of the sex-instinct, they have
destroyed religion.
We should rather consider that the sailor's tavern gives him his only glimpse
of heaven, just as the destructive criticism of the phallicists has only proved
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
bodies 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
immortal," because they go on reproducing eternally by fission, and however
often you 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 reproducing itself with similar characteristics through the ages, changed
by circumstance indeed, but always identical in itself. But the spiritual flower
of this process is that at the moment of discharge a physical ecstasy occurs,
a spasm analogous to the mental spasm which meditation gives. And further, in
the sacramental and ceremonial use of the sexual act, the divine consciousness
may be attained.
Vi
The sexual act being then a sacrament, it remains to consider in what respect
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 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 propagation
that men should be vicious; the most debauched roue might and almost certainly
would beget more healthy children than a semi-sexed prude. So the so-called
"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
the 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
ceremony, this act must be accomplished solely for the love of God.
All personal considerations must be banished utterly. Just as any priest can
perform the miracle of transubstantiation, so can any man, possessing the necessary
qualifications, perform this other miracle, whose nature must form the subject
of a subsequent discussion.
Personal aims being destroyed, it is "a fortiori" necessary to neglect
social and other similar considerations.
Physical strength and beauty are necessary and desirable for aesthetic reasons,
the attention of the worshippers being liable to distraction if the celebrants
are ugly, deformed, or incompetent.
I need hardly emphasize the necessity for the strictest self-control and concentration
on their part. As it would 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
excitement must be suppressed and transformed into its religious equivalent.
Vii
With these preliminaries settle in order to guard against foreseen criticisms
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
the triune nature of these ancient methods of energizing enthusiasm.
Music has two parts; tone or pitch, and rhythm. The latter quality associates
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 intoxication
of the soul, which connects it with wine. Further identities will suggest themselves
to the student.
By the use of the three methods in one the whole being of man may thus be stimulated.
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-excitement
elevates the moral nature of the man by its close analogy with the highest ecstasy.
It remains, however, always for him to make the final transmutation. 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 parodied
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
exhilaration amounting at the best to the foundation of a life-long love.
If these Society "rites" are properly performed, there should be
no exhaustion. 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 warnings.
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
the boy kisses the trees of the wood, rather than kiss nothing. At the age of
thirty-six I found myself at Pompeii, passionately 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 feeling
intensified, purified and exalted, that one should leave it. If this be so,
how much more if one go with the direct religious purpose burning in one's whole
being! Beethoven roaring at the sunrise is no strange spectacle to me, who shout
with joy and wonder, when I understand (without which one 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 Gogh.
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 least
of my magicians
with your whole soul aflame within you, and your whole will
concentrated on these...ansubstantiations, and tell me what miracle takes place!
It is the hate of, the distaste for, life that sends one to the ball when one
is old; when one is young one is on springs until the hour falls; but the love
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 reservoir
so that age loses all its bitterness. We find "Brother Lawrence,"
Nicholas Herman of Lorraine, at the age of eighty in continuous enjoyment of
union with God. Buddha at an equal age would run up and down the Eight High
Trances 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 then have rarely lost it.
It is true that genius in the ordinary sense of the word has nearly always
showed itself in the young. Perhaps we should regard such cases as Nicholas
Herman as cases of acquired genius. Now I am certainly of opinion that genius
can be acquired, or, in the alternative, 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 importance, which, being interpreted, is, of his own identity
with God. Three years in 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 tyranny, callousness, and the scorn of inferiors can do;
only these arrive at manhood 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 league 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 worse for him than any amount of opposition.
Here again 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 believe 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 holy 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 passions
among schoolboys "do no harm"; further, I think them the only redeeming
feature of sexual life at public schools.
The Hindoos are wiser. At the well-watched hour of puberty the boy is prepared
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 ini?ated
with all solemnity into the mystery of life.
The act is thus declared religious, sacred, impersonal, utterly apart from
amorism and eroticism and animalism and sentimentalism and all the other vilenesses
that Protestantism has made of it. The Catholic Church did, I believe, to some
extent preserve the Pagan tradition. Marriage is a sacrament. But in the attempt to deprive the act of all accretions which
would profane it, the Fathers of the Church added in spite of themselves other
accretions which profaned it more. They tied it to property and inheritance.
They wished it to serve both God and Mammon.
Rightly restraining the priest, who should employ his whole energy in the miracle
of the Mass, they found their counsel a counsel of perfection. The magical 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, revolved eternally around the S.q.
A special and Secret Mass, a Mass of the Holy Ghost, a Mass of the Mystery
of the Incarnation, to be performed at stated intervals, might have saved both
monks 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 thousand
seeds ever shoots forth a blade, so do conditions kill all but the strongest
sons of genius. But just as rabbits increased apace in Australia, where even
a missionary has been known to beget ninety children in two years, so shall
we be able to breed 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, Aphrodite
and Apollo to their proper place. They should not be open to every one, and
manhood should be the reward of ordeal and initiation.
The physical tests should be severe, and weaklings should be killed out rather
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 school
in all forms of athletics and games, because I despised them. I held, and still
hold, numerous mountaineering world's records. Similarly, examinations 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 England's decay,
though even in England they are usually the stepping-stones to clerical idleness
or pedagogic slavery.
Such is a dotted outline of the picture that I wish to draw. If the power to
possess property depended on a man's competence, and his perception of real
values, a new aristocracy would at once be created, and the deadly fact that
social 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 material
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
the married Englishwoman are classical and conclusive, has admirably described
how 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 advances.
But this is a natural corollary of the proposition that married Englishwomen
are usually unacquainted with sexual satisfaction.
Their desires are constantly stimulated by brutal and ignorant husbands, and
never gratified. This fact again accounts for the amazing prevalence of Sapphism
in London Society.
The Hindus warn their pupils against the dangers of breathing exercises. Indeed
the slightest laxness in moral or physical tissues may cause the energy accumulated
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 tension
is to be found in what the Hebrews and the Greeks called prophesying, and which
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. But 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 good as another.
Henry Rousseau, the duanier, was laughed at all his life. I laughed as heartily
as the rest; though, almost despite myself, I kept on saying (as the phrase
goes) "that I felt something; couldn't say what."
The moment it occurred to somebody to put up all his paintings in one room
by themselves, it was instantly apparent that his "naivete" was the
simplicity of a Master. Let no one then imagine that I fail to perceive or underestimate
the dangers of employing these methods. The 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
virgins
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 the
only one which can be usefully employed in chorus. Anything like an orchestra
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 hunger
for the infinite, and yet it is so mobile that it has a greater emotional range
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 ceremony.
Hot, drubbing, passionate, in a different class of ceremony, a class more intense
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 any sacred
dance.
Xii
Of sacred dances the most practical for a gathering is the seated dance. One
sits cross-legged on the floor, and sways to and fro from the hips in time with
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 floor
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 mechanical
squares leading in perspective to the simple unwinking light.
The swinging of the body with the mantra (which has a habit of rising and falling
as if of its own accord in a very weird way) becomes more accentuated; ultimately
a curiously spasmodic stage occurs, and then the consciousness flickers and
goes out; perhaps breaks through into the divine consciousness, perhaps is 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.
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.
Small 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 discretion
before presenting the bowl. The slightest sign that intoxication is mastering
the man should be a sign to him to pass that man. This practice can be easily
fitted to the ceremony previously described.
If desired, instead of wine, the elixir introduced by me to Europe may be employed.
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
more difficult problem.
It is exceptionally desirable that the actual bodily movements involved should
be decorous in the highest sense, and many people are so ill-trained that they
will be unable to regard such a ceremony with any but critical or lascivious
eyes; either would be fatal to all the good already done. It is presumably better
to wait until all present are greatly exalted before risking a profanation.
It is not desirable, in my opinion, that the ordinary worshippers should celebrate
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.
(for 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." Glad enough of any excuse to stop working, the more plausible the
better, I hastened 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
follows is under this seal." And he gave me the most solemn of all Masonic
tokens. "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 the chauffeur. "Come," he said, "we have a brisk half-mile."
We walked through thick woods to an old house, where we were greeted in silence
by a gentleman 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 guardian awaited us. He, after a further examination, proceeded
to offer me a court dress, the insignia of a Sovereign Prince of Rose Croix,
and a garter and mantle, the former of green silk, the latter of green velvet,
and lined with cerise silk. "It is a low mass," whispered the guardian.
In this anteroom were three or four others, both ladies and gentlemen, busily
robing.
In a third room we found a procession formed, and joined it. There were twenty-six
of us in all. Passing a final guardian we reached the chapel itself, at whose
entrance stood a young man and a young woman, both dressed in simple robes 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 shape
declared. But the high altar was covered with a cloth that displayed the Rose
and Cross, while above it were ranged seven candelabra, each of seven branches.
The stalls had been retained; and at each knight's hand burned a taper of rose-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
squares," measuring, say, six feet by five
painted in red upon a white
board, at 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 staves
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
High 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, waiting.
On the closing of the doors the armed guard, who was clothed in a scarlet robe
instead of green, drew his sword, and went up and down the aisle, chanting exorcisms
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 appeared interminable.
When it was over the girl and boy reappeared; bearing, the one a bowl, the
other a censer. Singing some litany or other, apparently in Greek, though I
could not catch the words, they purified and consecrated the chapel.
Now the High Priest and High Priestess began a litany in rhythmic lines of
equal length. At each third response they touched hands in a peculiar manner;
at each seventh they kissed. The twenty-first was a complete embrace. The bell
tinkled in the architrave; and they parted. The High Priest then took from 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.
This 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, the light over the altar grew rosy, then purple. The High Priest sharply
and suddenly threw up his hand; instant silence.
He now poured out the wine from the flask. The High Priestess gave it to the
girl attendant, who bore it to all present. This was no ordinary wine. It has
been said of vodki that it looks like water 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 limpid and pure like fresh spring
water. No sooner had I drunk of it, however, that I began to tremble. It was
a most astonishing sensation; I can imagine a man 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 the
libation the High Priestess sang a hymn, again in Greek. This time I recognized
the words; they were those of an ancient Ode to Aphrodite.
The boy attendant now descended to the red cross, stooped and kissed it; then
he danced upon it in such a way that he seemed to be tracing the patterns of
a marvellous rose of gold, for the percussion caused a shower of bright dust
to fall from the canopy. Meanwhile the litany (different words, but the same
chorus) began again. This time it was a duet between the High Priest and Priestess.
At each chorus Knights and Dames bowed low. The girl moved round continuously,
and the bowl passed. This ended in the exhaustion of the boy, who fell fainting
on the cross. The 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 chapel.
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, lined
throughout (as it appeared later) with ermine.
The High Priest's vestment was an elaborate embroidery of every colour, harmonized
by exquisite yet robust art. He wore also a breastplate corresponding to the
canopy; a sculptured "beast" at each corner in gold, while the twelve
signs of the Zodiac were symbolized by the stones of the breastplace.
The bell tinkled yet again, and the herald again sounded his trumpet. The celebrants
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 happen to me.
I became suddenly aware that my body had lost both weight and tactile sensibility.
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 Priestess,
standing at the foot of the cross, had thrown her robe over it, so that the
cross was no longer visible. There was only a board covered with ermine. She
was now naked but for her coloured and jewelled head-dress and the heavy torque
of gold about her neck, and the armlets and anklets that matched it. She began
to sing in a soft strange tongue, so low and smoothly that in my partial bewilderment
I could not hear all; but I caught a few words, Io Paian! Io Pan! and 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 attendant.
The robe followed; I saw that they were naked and unashamed. For the first time
there was absolute silence. Now, from an hundred jets surrounding the board
poured forth a perfumed purple smoke. The world was wrapt in a fond gauze of
mist, sacred as the clouds upon 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
fingers. Slowly they revolved through three circles and a half. She then laid
him down upon the cross, and took her own appointed place.
The organ now again rolled forth its solemn music.
I was lost to everything. Only this I saw, that the celebrants made no expected
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. Tongue
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 that
the star shrank, but that it (= I) became suddenly conscious of infinite space.
3. An explosion took place. I was in consequence a point of light, infinitely
small, yet infinitely bright, and this point was "without position."
4. Consequently this point was ubiquitous, and there was a feeling of infinite
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 that
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 without
in any way overlapping, with great rapidity.
7. This alternation must have occurred fifty times
I had rather have said
an hundred.
8. The two feelings suddenly became one. Again the word explosion is the only
one that gives any idea of it.
9. I now seemed to be conscious of everything at once, that it was at the same
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 abyss
of Nothing.
11. While this "falling" lasted, the bell suddenly tinkled three
times. I instantly 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 that 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 Dames
left their stalls. Advancing to the board, we took hold of the gilded carrying
poles, and followed the herald in procession out of the chapel, bearing the
litter to a small side-chapel leading out of the middle anteroom, where we left
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
High Mass?
"Perhaps," he answered with a curious smile, "if all they tell
of you is true."
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
near which it took place.
I am willing to indicate to initiates of the Rose Croix degree of Masonry under
proper charter from the genuine authorities (for there are spurious Masons working
under a forged charter) the address of a person willing to consider their fitness
to affiliate to a Chapter practising similar rites.
Xvi
I consider it supererogatory to continue my essay on the Mysteries and my analysis
of "Energized Enthusiasm."
A Note on Theurgy
I
I A O the supreme One of the Gnostics, the true God, is the Lord of this work.
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 bestowed
upon us!
Ii
The divine consciousness which is reflected and refracted in the works of Genius
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, those
women being invariably androgyne, who possess it at any time in any quantity.
So closely is this secretion connected with the sexual economy that it appears
to me at times as if it might be a by-product of that process which generates
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
chastity, 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 find in myself that manifestations of mental creative force always concur
with 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,
on 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
days, 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 orgie which would normally have tired me out.
Often and often have I noticed that sexual satisfaction so-called has left
me dissatisfied and unfatigued, and let loose the floods of verse which have
disgraced 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 health,
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 months I hardly missed a morning; always on waking I burst out
with a new idea which had to be written down. The total energy of my being was
very high. My weight was 10 stone 8 lb., which 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, though fairly full,
had been unsatisfactory.
On quitting Biskra, I was so full of ideas that I had to get off the train
at El-Kantara, where I wrote "The Scorpion." Five or six poems were
written on the way to Paris; "The Ordeal of Ida Pendragon" during
my twenty-four hours' 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
the condition of artistic creation, which is so close as to approach identity,
and 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 ignorant
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 have
myself made, and the experiments which I have tried, as on the accepted classical
methods of producing that energized enthusiasm which is the lever that moves
God.
Iii
The Greeks say that there are three methods of discharging the genial secretion
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 somewhere.
Easier I find it to say "subconsciousness" and "secretion"
than to postulate an external reservoir, to extend my connotation of "man"
than to invent "God." However, parsimony apart, I find it in my experience
that it is useless to flog a tired horse. There are times when I am absolutely
bereft of even one drop of this elixir. Nothing 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, too tired to move hand or foot, the occurrence of an idea has
restored me to perfect intensity of energy, and the working out of the idea
has actually got rid of the aforesaid physical fatigue, although it involved
a great additional labour.
Exactly parallel (nowhere meeting) is the case of mania. A madman may struggle
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 will
resume the struggle as fresh as ever. Until we discovered "unconscious
muscular action" and its effects, it was rational to suppose such a man
"possessed of 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 chaotic. 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 and Gauguin "kept rules" as well as
the masters whom they were supposed to be upsetting.
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 and
song.
Now it would be a great mistake to imagine that the Greeks were recommending
a visit to a brothel. As well condemn the High Mass at St. Peter's on the strength
of having witnessed a Protestant revival meeting. Disorder is always a parody
of order, because there is no archetypal disorder that it might resemble. 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 essentially alike;
the works of all good painters essentially differ.
Some writers suppose that in the ancient rites of Eleusis the High Priest publicly
copulated with the High Priestess. Were this so, it would be no more "indecent"
than it is "blasphemous" for the priest to make bread and wine into
the 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 sneer and the leer. Protestantism is the excrement of
human thought, and accordingly in Protestant countries art, if it exist at all,
only exists to revolt. Let us return from 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
make the sailor's tavern that these ingredients must necessarily concoct a hell-broth.
There are some people so simple as to think that, when they have proved the
religious instinct to be a mere efflorescence of the sex-instinct, they have
destroyed religion.
We should rather consider that the sailor's tavern gives him his only glimpse
of heaven, just as the destructive criticism of the phallicists has only proved
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
bodies 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
immortal," because they go on reproducing eternally by fission, and however
often you 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 reproducing itself with similar characteristics through the ages, changed
by circumstance indeed, but always identical in itself. But the spiritual flower
of this process is that at the moment of discharge a physical ecstasy occurs,
a spasm analogous to the mental spasm which meditation gives. And further, in
the sacramental and ceremonial use of the sexual act, the divine consciousness
may be attained.
Vi
The sexual act being then a sacrament, it remains to consider in what respect
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 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 propagation
that men should be vicious; the most debauched roue might and almost certainly
would beget more healthy children than a semi-sexed prude. So the so-called
"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
the 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
ceremony, this act must be accomplished solely for the love of God.
All personal considerations must be banished utterly. Just as any priest can
perform the miracle of transubstantiation, so can any man, possessing the necessary
qualifications, perform this other miracle, whose nature must form the subject
of a subsequent discussion.
Personal aims being destroyed, it is "a fortiori" necessary to neglect
social and other similar considerations.
Physical strength and beauty are necessary and desirable for aesthetic reasons,
the attention of the worshippers being liable to distraction if the celebrants
are ugly, deformed, or incompetent.
I need hardly emphasize the necessity for the strictest self-control and concentration
on their part. As it would 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
excitement must be suppressed and transformed into its religious equivalent.
Vii
With these preliminaries settle in order to guard against foreseen criticisms
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
the triune nature of these ancient methods of energizing enthusiasm.
Music has two parts; tone or pitch, and rhythm. The latter quality associates
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 intoxication
of the soul, which connects it with wine. Further identities will suggest themselves
to the student.
By the use of the three methods in one the whole being of man may thus be stimulated.
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-excitement
elevates the moral nature of the man by its close analogy with the highest ecstasy.
It remains, however, always for him to make the final transmutation. 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 parodied
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
exhilaration amounting at the best to the foundation of a life-long love.
If these Society "rites" are properly performed, there should be
no exhaustion. 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 warnings.
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
the boy kisses the trees of the wood, rather than kiss nothing. At the age of
thirty-six I found myself at Pompeii, passionately 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 feeling
intensified, purified and exalted, that one should leave it. If this be so,
how much more if one go with the direct religious purpose burning in one's whole
being! Beethoven roaring at the sunrise is no strange spectacle to me, who shout
with joy and wonder, when I understand (without which one 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 Gogh.
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 least
of my magicians
with your whole soul aflame within you, and your whole will
concentrated on these...ansubstantiations, and tell me what miracle takes place!
It is the hate of, the distaste for, life that sends one to the ball when one
is old; when one is young one is on springs until the hour falls; but the love
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 reservoir
so that age loses all its bitterness. We find "Brother Lawrence,"
Nicholas Herman of Lorraine, at the age of eighty in continuous enjoyment of
union with God. Buddha at an equal age would run up and down the Eight High
Trances 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 then have rarely lost it.
It is true that genius in the ordinary sense of the word has nearly always
showed itself in the young. Perhaps we should regard such cases as Nicholas
Herman as cases of acquired genius. Now I am certainly of opinion that genius
can be acquired, or, in the alternative, 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 importance, which, being interpreted, is, of his own identity
with God. Three years in 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 tyranny, callousness, and the scorn of inferiors can do;
only these arrive at manhood 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 league 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 worse for him than any amount of opposition.
Here again 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 believe 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 holy 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 passions
among schoolboys "do no harm"; further, I think them the only redeeming
feature of sexual life at public schools.
The Hindoos are wiser. At the well-watched hour of puberty the boy is prepared
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 ini?ated
with all solemnity into the mystery of life.
The act is thus declared religious, sacred, impersonal, utterly apart from
amorism and eroticism and animalism and sentimentalism and all the other vilenesses
that Protestantism has made of it. The Catholic Church did, I believe, to some
extent preserve the Pagan tradition. Marriage is a sacrament. But in the attempt to deprive the act of all accretions which
would profane it, the Fathers of the Church added in spite of themselves other
accretions which profaned it more. They tied it to property and inheritance.
They wished it to serve both God and Mammon.
Rightly restraining the priest, who should employ his whole energy in the miracle
of the Mass, they found their counsel a counsel of perfection. The magical 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, revolved eternally around the S.q.
A special and Secret Mass, a Mass of the Holy Ghost, a Mass of the Mystery
of the Incarnation, to be performed at stated intervals, might have saved both
monks 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 thousand
seeds ever shoots forth a blade, so do conditions kill all but the strongest
sons of genius. But just as rabbits increased apace in Australia, where even
a missionary has been known to beget ninety children in two years, so shall
we be able to breed 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, Aphrodite
and Apollo to their proper place. They should not be open to every one, and
manhood should be the reward of ordeal and initiation.
The physical tests should be severe, and weaklings should be killed out rather
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 school
in all forms of athletics and games, because I despised them. I held, and still
hold, numerous mountaineering world's records. Similarly, examinations 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 England's decay,
though even in England they are usually the stepping-stones to clerical idleness
or pedagogic slavery.
Such is a dotted outline of the picture that I wish to draw. If the power to
possess property depended on a man's competence, and his perception of real
values, a new aristocracy would at once be created, and the deadly fact that
social 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 material
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
the married Englishwoman are classical and conclusive, has admirably described
how 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 advances.
But this is a natural corollary of the proposition that married Englishwomen
are usually unacquainted with sexual satisfaction.
Their desires are constantly stimulated by brutal and ignorant husbands, and
never gratified. This fact again accounts for the amazing prevalence of Sapphism
in London Society.
The Hindus warn their pupils against the dangers of breathing exercises. Indeed
the slightest laxness in moral or physical tissues may cause the energy accumulated
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 tension
is to be found in what the Hebrews and the Greeks called prophesying, and which
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. But 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 good as another.
Henry Rousseau, the duanier, was laughed at all his life. I laughed as heartily
as the rest; though, almost despite myself, I kept on saying (as the phrase
goes) "that I felt something; couldn't say what."
The moment it occurred to somebody to put up all his paintings in one room
by themselves, it was instantly apparent that his "naivete" was the
simplicity of a Master. Let no one then imagine that I fail to perceive or underestimate
the dangers of employing these methods. The 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
virgins
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 the
only one which can be usefully employed in chorus. Anything like an orchestra
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 hunger
for the infinite, and yet it is so mobile that it has a greater emotional range
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 ceremony.
Hot, drubbing, passionate, in a different class of ceremony, a class more intense
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 any sacred
dance.
Xii
Of sacred dances the most practical for a gathering is the seated dance. One
sits cross-legged on the floor, and sways to and fro from the hips in time with
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 floor
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 mechanical
squares leading in perspective to the simple unwinking light.
The swinging of the body with the mantra (which has a habit of rising and falling
as if of its own accord in a very weird way) becomes more accentuated; ultimately
a curiously spasmodic stage occurs, and then the consciousness flickers and
goes out; perhaps breaks through into the divine consciousness, perhaps is 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.
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.
Small 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 discretion
before presenting the bowl. The slightest sign that intoxication is mastering
the man should be a sign to him to pass that man. This practice can be easily
fitted to the ceremony previously described.
If desired, instead of wine, the elixir introduced by me to Europe may be employed.
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
more difficult problem.
It is exceptionally desirable that the actual bodily movements involved should
be decorous in the highest sense, and many people are so ill-trained that they
will be unable to regard such a ceremony with any but critical or lascivious
eyes; either would be fatal to all the good already done. It is presumably better
to wait until all present are greatly exalted before risking a profanation.
It is not desirable, in my opinion, that the ordinary worshippers should celebrate
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.
(for 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." Glad enough of any excuse to stop working, the more plausible the
better, I hastened 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
follows is under this seal." And he gave me the most solemn of all Masonic
tokens. "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 the chauffeur. "Come," he said, "we have a brisk half-mile."
We walked through thick woods to an old house, where we were greeted in silence
by a gentleman 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 guardian awaited us. He, after a further examination, proceeded
to offer me a court dress, the insignia of a Sovereign Prince of Rose Croix,
and a garter and mantle, the former of green silk, the latter of green velvet,
and lined with cerise silk. "It is a low mass," whispered the guardian.
In this anteroom were three or four others, both ladies and gentlemen, busily
robing.
In a third room we found a procession formed, and joined it. There were twenty-six
of us in all. Passing a final guardian we reached the chapel itself, at whose
entrance stood a young man and a young woman, both dressed in simple robes 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 shape
declared. But the high altar was covered with a cloth that displayed the Rose
and Cross, while above it were ranged seven candelabra, each of seven branches.
The stalls had been retained; and at each knight's hand burned a taper of rose-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
squares," measuring, say, six feet by five
painted in red upon a white
board, at 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 staves
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
High 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, waiting.
On the closing of the doors the armed guard, who was clothed in a scarlet robe
instead of green, drew his sword, and went up and down the aisle, chanting exorcisms
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 appeared interminable.
When it was over the girl and boy reappeared; bearing, the one a bowl, the
other a censer. Singing some litany or other, apparently in Greek, though I
could not catch the words, they purified and consecrated the chapel.
Now the High Priest and High Priestess began a litany in rhythmic lines of
equal length. At each third response they touched hands in a peculiar manner;
at each seventh they kissed. The twenty-first was a complete embrace. The bell
tinkled in the architrave; and they parted. The High Priest then took from 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.
This 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, the light over the altar grew rosy, then purple. The High Priest sharply
and suddenly threw up his hand; instant silence.
He now poured out the wine from the flask. The High Priestess gave it to the
girl attendant, who bore it to all present. This was no ordinary wine. It has
been said of vodki that it looks like water 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 limpid and pure like fresh spring
water. No sooner had I drunk of it, however, that I began to tremble. It was
a most astonishing sensation; I can imagine a man 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 the
libation the High Priestess sang a hymn, again in Greek. This time I recognized
the words; they were those of an ancient Ode to Aphrodite.
The boy attendant now descended to the red cross, stooped and kissed it; then
he danced upon it in such a way that he seemed to be tracing the patterns of
a marvellous rose of gold, for the percussion caused a shower of bright dust
to fall from the canopy. Meanwhile the litany (different words, but the same
chorus) began again. This time it was a duet between the High Priest and Priestess.
At each chorus Knights and Dames bowed low. The girl moved round continuously,
and the bowl passed. This ended in the exhaustion of the boy, who fell fainting
on the cross. The 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 chapel.
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, lined
throughout (as it appeared later) with ermine.
The High Priest's vestment was an elaborate embroidery of every colour, harmonized
by exquisite yet robust art. He wore also a breastplate corresponding to the
canopy; a sculptured "beast" at each corner in gold, while the twelve
signs of the Zodiac were symbolized by the stones of the breastplace.
The bell tinkled yet again, and the herald again sounded his trumpet. The celebrants
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 happen to me.
I became suddenly aware that my body had lost both weight and tactile sensibility.
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 Priestess,
standing at the foot of the cross, had thrown her robe over it, so that the
cross was no longer visible. There was only a board covered with ermine. She
was now naked but for her coloured and jewelled head-dress and the heavy torque
of gold about her neck, and the armlets and anklets that matched it. She began
to sing in a soft strange tongue, so low and smoothly that in my partial bewilderment
I could not hear all; but I caught a few words, Io Paian! Io Pan! and 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 attendant.
The robe followed; I saw that they were naked and unashamed. For the first time
there was absolute silence. Now, from an hundred jets surrounding the board
poured forth a perfumed purple smoke. The world was wrapt in a fond gauze of
mist, sacred as the clouds upon 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
fingers. Slowly they revolved through three circles and a half. She then laid
him down upon the cross, and took her own appointed place.
The organ now again rolled forth its solemn music.
I was lost to everything. Only this I saw, that the celebrants made no expected
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. Tongue
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 that
the star shrank, but that it (= I) became suddenly conscious of infinite space.
3. An explosion took place. I was in consequence a point of light, infinitely
small, yet infinitely bright, and this point was "without position."
4. Consequently this point was ubiquitous, and there was a feeling of infinite
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 that
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 without
in any way overlapping, with great rapidity.
7. This alternation must have occurred fifty times
I had rather have said
an hundred.
8. The two feelings suddenly became one. Again the word explosion is the only
one that gives any idea of it.
9. I now seemed to be conscious of everything at once, that it was at the same
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 abyss
of Nothing.
11. While this "falling" lasted, the bell suddenly tinkled three
times. I instantly 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 that 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 Dames
left their stalls. Advancing to the board, we took hold of the gilded carrying
poles, and followed the herald in procession out of the chapel, bearing the
litter to a small side-chapel leading out of the middle anteroom, where we left
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
High Mass?
"Perhaps," he answered with a curious smile, "if all they tell
of you is true."
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
near which it took place.
I am willing to indicate to initiates of the Rose Croix degree of Masonry under
proper charter from the genuine authorities (for there are spurious Masons working
under a forged charter) the address of a person willing to consider their fitness
to affiliate to a Chapter practising similar rites.
Xvi
I consider it supererogatory to continue my essay on the Mysteries and my analysis
of "Energized Enthusiasm."
