Cara Soror,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
It is the introduction of the word "self" that has raised such prickly
questions. It really is a little bewildering; the signpost "Right-hand
Path", "Left-hand Path", seems rather indecipherable; and then,
for such a long way, they look exactly alike. At what point do they
diverge?
Actually, the answers are fairly simple.
As far as the achievement or attainment is concerned, the two Paths are
in fact identical. In fact, one almost feels obliged to postulate some
inmost falsity, completely impossible to detect, inherent at the very
earliest stages.
For the decision which determines the catastrophe confronts only the
Adeptus Exemptus 7
○ = 4
□. Until that grade is reached, and that very
fully indeed, with all the buttons properly sewed on, one is not capable
of understanding what is meant by the Abyss. Unless "all you have and
all you are" is identical with the Universe, its annihilation would
leave a surplus.
Mark well this first distinction: the "Black Magician" or Sorcerer
is hardly even a distant cousin of the "Black Brother." The difference
between a sneak-thief and a Hitler is not too bad an analogy.
The Sorcerer may be—indeed he usually is—a thwarted disappointed
man whose aims are perfectly natural. Often enough, his real trouble
is ignorance; and by the time he has become fairly hot stuff as a
Black Magician, he has learnt that he is getting nowhere, and finds
himself, despite himself, on the True Path of the Wise.
"Invoking Zeus to swell the power of Pan,
The prayer discomfits the demented man;
Lust lies as still as Love."
Thereupon he casts away his warlock apparatus like a good little boy,
finds the A∴A∴, and lives happily ever after.
The Left-hand Path is a totally different matter. Let us start at the beginning.
You remember my saying that only two operations were possible in Nature:
addition and subtraction. Let us apply this to magical progress.
What happens when the Aspirant invokes Diana, or calls up Lilith? He
increases the sum of his experiences in these particular ways.
Sometimes he has a "liaison-experience," which links two main lines of
thought, and so is worth dozens of isolated gains.
Now, if there is any difference at all between the White and the Black
Adept in similar case, it is that the one, working by "love under will"
achieves a marriage with the new idea, while the other, merely grabbing,
adds a concubine to his harem of slaves.
The about-to-be-Black Brother constantly restricts himself; he is satisfied with
a very limited ideal; he is afraid of losing his individuality—reminds
one of the "Nordic" twaddle about "race-pollution."
Have you seen the sand-roses of the Sahara? Such is the violence of the
Khamsin that it whips grains of sand together, presses them, finally
builds them into great blocks, big enough and solid enough to be used
for walls in the oasis. And beautiful! Whew! For all that, they
are not real rocks. Leave hem in peace, with no possible interference—what
happens? (I brought some home, and put them "in safety" as curiosities,
and as useful psychometrical tests.) Alas! Time is enough. Go to
the drawer which held them; nothing remains but little piles of dust.
"Now Master!" (What reproach in the tone of your voice!) All right,
all right! Keep your hair on!—I know that is the precise term used
in
The Vision and the Voice, to describe the Great White Brother or the
Babe of the Abyss; but to him it means victory; to the Left-Hander it
would mean defeat, ruin devastating, irremediable, final. It is exactly
that which he most dreads; and it is that to which he must in the end
come, because there is no compensating element in his idea of structure.
Nations themselves never grow permanently by smash-and-grab methods;
one merely acquires a sore spot, as in the case of Lorraine, perhaps
even Eire. (Though Eire is using just that formula of Restriction,
shutting herself up in her misery and poverty and idiot pride, when a
real marriage with and dissolution in, a real live country would give
her new life. The "melting-pot" idea is the great strength of America.)
Consider the Faubourg St. Germain aristocracy—now hardly even a sentimental memory.
The guillotine did not kill them; it was their own refusal to adapt themselves to the new
biological conditions of political life. It was indeed their restriction that rotted
them in the first instance; had Lafayette or Mirabeau been trusted with full power, and
supplied with adequate material, a younger generation of virtue, the monarchy might still be ruling France.
But then (you ask) how can a man go so far wrong after he has, as an
Adeptus Minor, attained the "Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy
Guardian Angel"?
Recall the passage in the 14th Aethyr "See where thine Angel hath led
Thee", and so on. Perhaps the Black Brother deserts his Angel when he
realises the Programme.
Perhaps his error was so deeply rooted, from the very beginning, that
it was his Evil Genius that he evoked.
In such cases the man's policy is of course to break off all relations
with the Supernal Triad, and to replace it by inventing a false crown,
Daäth. To them Knowledge will be everything, and what is Knowledge but
the very soul of Illusion?
Refusing thus the true nourishment of all his faculties, they lose their
structural unity, and must be fortified by continuous doses of dope in
anguished self-preservation. Thus all its chemical equations become
endothermic.
I do hope I am making myself clear; it is a dreadfully subtle line of
thought. But I think you ought to be able to pick up the essential
theorem; your own meditations, aided by the relevant passages in
Liber
418 and elsewhere, should do the rest.
To describe the alternative attitude should clarify, by dint of contrast;
at least the contemplation should be a pleasant change.
Every accretion must modify me. I want it to do so. I want to assimilate it
absolutely. I want to make it a permanent feature of my Temple.
I am not afraid of losing myself to it, if only because it also is modified by
myself in the act of union. I am not afraid of its being the
"wrong" thing, because
every experience is a "play of Nuit,"
and the worst that can happen is a temporary loss of balance, which is instantly
adjusted, as soon as it is noticed, by recalling and putting into action
the formula of contradiction.
Remember the
Fama Fraternitatis: when they opened the Vault which held
the Pastos of our Father Christian Rosencreuz, "all these colours were
brilliant and flashing." That is, if one panel measured 10" x 40", the
symbol (say, yellow) would occupy 200 square inches, and the background
(in that case, violet) the other 200 square inches. Hence they
dazzled;
the limitation, restriction, demarcation, disappeared; and the result
was an equable idea of form and colour which is beyond physical understanding.
(At one time Picasso tried to work out this idea on canvas.) Destroy that
equilibrium by one tenmillionth of an inch, and the effect is lost.
The unbalanced item stands out like a civilian in the middle of a regiment.
True, this faculty, this
feeling for equilibrium must be acquired; but
once you have done so, it is an unerring guide. Instant discomfort
warns one; the impulse to scratch it (the analogy is too apt to reject!)
is irresistible.
And oh! how imperative this is!
Unless your Universe is perfect—and perfection
includes the idea of
balance—how can you come even to Atmadarshana? Hindus may maintain
that Atmadarshana, or at any rate Shivadarshana, is the equivalent of crossing
the Abyss. Beware of any such conclusions! The Trances are
simply isolated experiences, sharply cut off from normal thought-life.
To cross the Abyss is a permanent and fundamental revolution in the whole
of one's being.
Much more, upon the brink of the Abyss. If there be missing or redundant
even one atom, the entire monstrous, the portentous mass must tend to
move with irresistible impact, in such direction as to restore the equilibrium.
To deflect it—well, think of a gyroscope! How then can you destroy
it in one sole stupendous gesture? Ah! Listen to
The Vision and the Voice.
Perhaps the best and simplest plan is for me to pick out the most impor-
tant of the relevant passages and put them together as an appendix to
this letter. Also, by contrast, those allusions to the "Black Brothers"
and the "Left-hand Path." This ought to give you a clear idea of
what each is, and does; of what distinguishes their respective methods in
some ways so confusingly alike. I hope indeed most sincerely that you
will whet your Magical Dagger on the Stone of the Wise, and wield most
deftly and determinedly both the White-handled and the Black-handled
Burin. In trying to express these opinions, I am constantly haunted by
the dread that I may be missing some crucial point, or even allowing a
mere quibble to pass for argument. It makes it only all the worse when
one has become so habituated by Neschamic ideas, to knowing, even before
one says it, that what one is going to say is of necessity untrue, as
untrue as it is contradictory. So what can it possibly matter what one
says?
Such doubts are dampers!
"Enough of Because! Be he damned for a dog!"
Here follow the quotations from
The Vision and the Voice.
The Angel re-appears
The blackness gathers about, so thick, so clinging, so penetrating, so
oppressive, that all the other darkness that I have ever conceived would
be like bright light beside it.
His voice comes in a whisper: O thou that art master of the fifty gates
of Understanding, is not my mother a black woman? O thou that art master
of the Pentagram, is not the egg of spirit a black egg? Here abideth
terror, and the blind ache of the Soul, and lo! even I, who am the sole
light, a spark shut up, stand in the sign of Apophis and Typhon.
I am the snake that devoureth the spirit of man with the lust of light.
I am the sightless storm in the night that wrappeth the world about with
desolation. Chaos is my name, and thick darkness. Know thou that the
darkness of the earth is ruddy, and the darkness of the air is grey, but
the darkness of the soul is utter blackness.
The egg of the spirit is a basilisk egg, and the gates of the understanding
are fifty, that is the sign of the Scorpion. The pillars about the
Neophyte are crowned with flame, and the vault of the Adepts
is lighted by the Rose. And in the abyss is the eye of the hawk. But
upon the great sea shall the Master of the Temple find neither star nor moon.
And I was about to answer him: "The light is within me." But
before I could frame the words, he answered me with the great word that is the
Key of the Abyss. And he said: Thou hast entered the night; dost thou
yet lust for day? Sorrow is my name and affliction. I am girt about
with tribulation. Here still hangs the Crucified One, and here the
Mother weeps over the children that she hath not borne. Sterility is
my name and desolation. Intolerable is thine ache, and incurable thy
wound. I said, 'Let the darkness cover me;' and behold, I am compassed
about with the blackness that hath no name. O thou, who hast cast down
the light into the earth, so must thou do for ever. And the light of the
sun shall not shine upon thee and the moon shall not lend thee of her
luster, and the stars shall be hidden because thou art passed beyond
these things, beyond the need of these things, beyond the desire of these things.
What I thought were shapes of rocks, rather felt than seen, now appear
to be veiled Masters, sitting absolutely still and silent. Nor can any
one be distinguished from the others.
And the Angel sayeth: Behold where thine Angel hath led thee! Thou
didst ask fame, power and pleasure, health and wealth and love, and
strength and length of days. Thou didst hold life with eight tentacles,
like an octopus. Thou didst seek the four powers and the seven delights
and the twelve emancipations, and the two and twenty Privileges and the nine
and forty Manifestations, and lo! thou art become as one of These.
Bowed are their backs, whereon resteth the Universe. Veiled are their
faces, that have beheld the glory Ineffable.
These adepts seem like Pyramids—their hoods and robes are like Pyramids.
And the Angel sayeth: Verily is the Pyramid a Temple of Initiation.
Verily also is it a tomb. Thinkest thou that there is life within the
Masters of the Temple that sit hooded, encamped upon the Sea? Verily,
there is no life in them.
Their sandals were the pure light, and they have taken them from their
feet and cast them down through the abyss; for this Aethyr is holy ground.
Herein no forms appear, and the vision of God face to face, that is
transmuted in the Athanor called dissolution, or hammered into one in
the forge of meditation, is in this place but a blasphemy and a mockery.
And the Beatific Vision is no more, and the glory of the Most High is
no more. There is no more knowledge. There is no more bliss. There is
no more power. There is no more beauty. For this is the Palace of
Understanding; for thou art one with the Primeval things.
Drink in the myrrh of my speech, that is bruised with the gall of the
roc, and dissolved in the ink of the cuttle-fish, and perfumed with the
deadly nightshade.
This is thy wine, who wast drunk upon the wine of Iacchus. And for
bread shalt thou eat salt, O thou on the corn of Ceres that didst wax
fat! For as pure being is pure nothing, so is pure wisdom pure ——*,
and so is pure understanding silence, and stillness, and darkness. The
eye is called seventy, and the triple Aleph whereby thou perceivest it,
divideth into the number of the terrible word that is the Key of the Abyss.
I am Hermes, that am sent from the Father to expound all things discreetly in
these the last words that thou shalt hear before thou take thy seat among these,
whose eyes are sealed up and whose ears are stopped, and whose mouths are clenched,
who are folded in upon themselves, the liquor of whose bodies is dried up, so that
nothing remains but a little pyramid of dust.
And that bright light of comfort, and that piercing sword of truth, and
all the power and beauty that they have made of themselves, is cast from
them, as it is written, "I saw Satan like lightning fall from heaven."
And as a flaming sword is it dropt though the Abyss, where the four
beasts keep watch and ward. And it appeareth in the heaven of Jupiter
as a morning star, or as an evening star. And the light thereof shineth
even unto the earth, and bringeth hope and help to them that dwell in
the darkness of thought, and drink of the poison of life. Fifty are the
gates of Understanding, and one hundred and six are the seasons thereof.
And the name of every season is Death.
(The Vision and the Voice. 14th Æthyr.)
And for his Work thereafter?
So we enter the earth, and there is a veiled figure, in absolute darkness.
Yet it is perfectly possible to see in it, so that the minutest
details do not escape us. And upon the root of one flower he pours acid
so that the root writhes as if in torture. And another he cuts, and the
shriek is like the shriek of a Mandrake, torn up by the roots. And
another he sears with fire, and yet another he anoints with oil.
And I said: Heavy is the labour, but great indeed is the reward.
And the young man answered me: He shall not see the reward; he tendeth
the garden.
And I said: What shall come unto him?
And he said: This thou canst not know, nor is it revealed by the letters
that are the totems of the stars, but only by the stars.
And he says to me, quite disconnectedly: The man of earth is the
adherent. The lover giveth his life unto the work among men.
The hermit goeth solitary, and giveth only of his light unto men.
And I ask him: Why does he tell me that?
And he says: I tell thee not. Thou tellest thyself, for thou hast
pondered thereupon for many days, and hast not found light. And now
that thou art called NEMO, the answer to every riddle that thou hast
not found shall spring up in thy mind, unsought. Who can tell upon
what day a flower shall bloom?
And thou shalt give thy wisdom unto the world, and that shall be thy
garden. And concerning time and death, thou hast naught to do with
these things. For though a precious stone be hidden in the sand of the
desert, it shall not heed for the wind of the desert, although it be
but sand. For the worker of works hath worked thereupon; and because
it is clear, it is invisible; and because it is hard, it moveth not.
All these words are heard by everyone that is called NEMO. And with
that doth he apply himself to understanding. And he must understand
the virtue of the waters of death, and he must understand the virtue
of the sun and of the wind, and of the worm that turneth the earth, and
of the stars that roof in the garden. And he must understand the separate
nature and property of every flower, or how shall he tend his
garden?
(Ibid. 13th Æthyr.)
Thus for the Masters of the Temple; for the Black Brothers, how?
For Choronzon is as it were the shell or excrement of these three paths,
and therefore is his head raised unto Daäth, and therefore have the
Black Brotherhood declared him to be the child of Wisdom and Understanding,
who is but the bastard of the Svastika. And this is that which is
written in the Holy Qabalah, concerning the Whirlpool and Leviathan,
and the Great Stone.
(Ibid. 3rd Æthyr)
Moreover, there is Mary, a blasphemy against BABALON, for she hath shut
herself up; and therefore is she the Queen of all those wicked devils
that walk upon the earth, those that thou sawest even as little black
specks that stained the Heaven of Urania. And all these are the
excrement of Choronzon.
And for this is BABALON under the power of the Magician, that she hath
submitted herself unto the work; and she guardeth the Abyss. And in
her is a perfect purity of that which is above, yet she is sent as the
Redeemer to them that are below. For there is no other way into the
Supernal mystery but through her and the Beast on which she rideth; and
the Magician is set beyond her to deceive the brothers of blackness,
lest they should make unto themselves a crown; for it there were two
crowns, then should Ygdrasil, that ancient tree, be cast out into the
Abyss, uprooted and cast down into the Outermost Abyss, and the Arcanum
which is in the Adytum should be profaned; and the Ark should be touched,
and the Lodge spied upon by them that are not masters, and the bread of
the Sacrament should be the dung of Choronzon; and the wine of the
Sacrament should be the water of Choronzon; and the incense should be
dispersion; and the fire upon the Altar should be hate. But lift up
thyself; stand, play the man, for behold! there shall be revealed unto
thee the Great Terror, the thing of awe that hath no name.
(Ibid. 3rd Æthyr)
And now She cometh forth again, riding upon a dolphin. Now again I
see those wandering souls, that have sought restricted love, and have
not understood that the "word of sin is restriction."
It is very curious; they seem to be looking for one another, or for
something, all the time, constantly hurrying about. But they knock up
against one another and yet will not see one another, or cannot see one
another, because they are so shut up in their cloaks.
And a voice sounds: It is most terrible for the one that hath shut
himself up and made himself fast against the universe. For they that
sit encamped upon the sea in the city of the Pyramids are indeed shut
up. But they have given their blood, even to the last drop, to fill
the cup of BABALON.
These that thou seest are indeed the Black Brothers, for it is written:
He shall laugh at their calamity and mock when their fear cometh. And
therefore hath he exalted them unto the plane of love.
And yet again it is written: He desireth not the death of a sinner,
but rather that he should turn from his wickedness. Now, if one of
these were to cast off his cloak he should behold the brilliance of the
lady of the Aethyr; but they will not.
And again:—
Oh, I see vast plains beneath her feet, enormous deserts studded with
great rocks; and I see little lonely souls, running helplessly about,
minute black creatures like men. And they keep up a very curious howling,
that I can compare to nothing that I have ever heard; yet it is
strangely human.
And the voice says: These are they that grasped love and clung thereto,
praying ever at the knees of the great goddess. These are they that
have shut themselves up in fortresses of Love.
(Ibid. 7th Æthyr.)
Moreover, this also:
And this is the meaning of the Supper of the Passover, the spilling of
the blood of the Lamb being a ritual of the Dark Brothers, for they have
sealed up the Pylon with blood, lest the Angel of Death should enter
therein. Thus do they shut themselves off from the company of the saints.
Thus do they keep themselves from compassion and from understanding.
Accursed are they, for they shut up their blood in their heart.
They keep themselves from the kisses of my Mother Babylon, and in their
lonely fortresses they pray to the false moon. And they bind themselves
together with an oath, and with a great curse. And of their malice they
conspire together, and they have power, and mastery, and in their cauldrons
do they brew the harsh wine of delusion, mingled with the poison
of their selfishness.
Thus they make war upon the Holy one, sending forth their delusion upon
men, and upon everything that liveth. So that their false compassion is
called compassion, and their false understanding is called understanding,
for this is their most potent spell.
Yet of their own poison do they perish, and in their lonely fortresses
shall they be eaten up by Time that hath cheated them to serve him, and
by the mighty devil Choronzon, their master, whose name is the second
Death, for the blood that they have sprinkled on their Pylon, that is a
bar against the Angel Death, is the key by which he entereth in.†
(Ibid. 12th Æthyr.)
Finally:
Yet must he that understandeth go forth unto the outermost Abyss, and
there must he speak with him that is set above the four-fold terror, the
Prince of Evil, even with Choronzon, the mighty devil that inhabiteth
the outermost Abyss. And none may speak with him, or understand him,
but the servants of Babylon, that understand, and they that are without
understanding, his servants.
Behold! it entereth not into the heart, nor into the mind of man to
conceive this matter; for the sickness of the body is death, and the
sickness of the heart is despair, and the sickness of the mind is madness.
But in the outermost Abyss is sickness of the aspiration, and
sickness of the will, and sickness of the essence of all, and there is
neither word nor thought wherein the image of its image is reflected.
And whoso passeth into the outermost Abyss, except he be of them that
understand, holdeth out his hands, and boweth his neck, unto the Chains
of Choronzon. And as a devil he walketh about the earth, immortal, and
be blasteth the flowers of the earth, and he corrupteth the fresh air,
and he maketh poisonous the water; and the fire that is the friend of
man, and the pledge of his aspiration, seeing that it mounteth ever up-
ward as a Pyramid, and seeing that man stole it in a hollow tube from
Heaven, even that fire he turneth into ruin, and madness, and fever, and
destruction. And thou, that art an heap of dry dust in the city of the
Pyramids, must understand these things.
Beware, therefore, O thou who art appointed to understand the secret
of the Outermost Abyss, for in every Abyss thou must assume the mask
and form of the Angel thereof. Hadst thou a name, thou wert irrevocably
lost. Search, therefore, if there be yet one drop of blood that is not
gathered into the cup of Babylon the Beautiful: for in that little pile
of dust, if there could be one drop of blood, it should be utterly corrupt;
it should breed scorpions, and vipers, and the cat of slime.
And I said unto the Angel: "Is there not one appointed as a warden?"
And he said:
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabacthani.
Such an ecstasy of anguish racks me that I cannot give it voice, yet
I know it is but as the anguish of Gethsemane.
(Ibid. 7th Æthyr.)
Love is the law, love under will.
Fraternally,
666
* I suppose that only a Magus could have heard this word.
† (I think the trouble with these people was, that they wanted to
substitute the blood of someone else for their own blood, because they wanted
to keep their personalities.)