John St. John

11.17, 12.0. 12.40. 1.14. JOHN ST. JOHN to the bottom; how limpid, how lucid is its glimmer Only from above, from the overshadowing Tree of Life, whose leaves glisten and quiver in the shining wind of the Spirit, drops ever and anon, self—luminous, the Dew of Immortality. Many and wonderful also were the Visions and powers offered unto me in this hour; but I refused them all; for being in my Lord and He in me, there is no need of these toys. The pose over. On this second sitting, practically no thoughts arose at all to cloud the Sun; but a curious feeling that there was something more to come. Possibly the Proof, that I had demanded, the Writing on the Lamen , . . Chez Lavenue. Certain practical considerations sug— gest themselves. One would have been much better off with a proper Magical Cabinet, a disciple to look after things, proper magical food ceremonially prepared, a private garden to walk in . . . and so on. But at least it is useful and important to know that things can be done at a pinch in a great city and a small room. The lunch is good ; the kidneys were well cooked; the tarte aux {raises was excellent; the Burgundy came straight from the Vat of Bacchus. The Coffee and Cognac are beyond all praise; the cigar is the best Cabana I ever smoked. Ι37