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that the Magician has demanded that nature shall be for him a phenomenal mode of expressing his 
spiritual reality. The circumstances, therefore, of his life are uniformly adapted to his work. 
To take another analogy. The world appears to the lawyer quite otherwise than it does to the 
carpenter, and the same event occurring to the two men will suggest two quite different trains of 
thought and lead to two quite different results. 
My own errors of judgment, due to the annihilation of my ego and the consequent lack of leadership 
felt by my body and mind, produced their own immediate effect. I did not yet understand the 
extent of my fault, or even its real cause and character, but I felt myself forced back into my 
proper orbit. I was the Spirit of solitude, the Wander in the Wilderness. I had no business to take 
part in the affairs of men by personal contact with them in their sheepfolds, monkey houses and 
pigstys. My sole link with them was to guide such as adventured themselves into the desert. I was 
cast out from the Abyss into "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." It was therefore for me to attend strictly to the 
Great Work which had been appointed for me by the Secret Chiefs, to dwell in communion with 
mine Holy Guardian Angel and to write down the instructions by following which men might attain 
"to the Summum Bonum, True Wisdom and Perfect Happiness". 
{661} 
 
 
 
P A R T F I V E 
THE MAGUS 
69 
I attended to the production of number five of The Equinox, but shortly after (my diary of 1911 is 
missing --- if, indeed, it was ever kept --- so I am uncertain of my dates) I went into Retirement, 
spending my time alternately between Paris and Montigny-sur-Loing on the southern edge of the 
Forest of Fontainebleau. It was immediately evident that I was in the right path. I had placed my 
body and mind entirely at the service of the Master of the Temple who had filled the vacuum of the 
universe caused by the annihilation of Aleister Crowley. I kept my body in perfect condition by 
walking almost every day to Fontainebleau and back, always choosing a new way through the forest 
so that by the end of the summer I knew every tree by name, as one might say. I had acquired a 
boundless love for that incomparable woodland, whose glorious beauty is still further hallowed by 
the romance which lurks in every glade. It was tame indeed in comparison with a hundred other 
jungles which I had known, but for all that it possesses an individual charm which endears it to me 
beyond any words of mine to utter. Nature herself opposed no obstacle to my wooing. The summer 
of 1911 was intensely hot and fine. I have always found that dry air is essential to the well-being 
either of my body or of my genius. Damp air seems to interfere with my insulation; my genius leaks 
away and leaves me empty and depressed. 
This year indeed was another annus mirabilis for me. There was an almost continual outpouring of 
the Holy Spirit through my mind. The spring of poetry shot crystal clear from the hidden furnace of 
my being into the pure and brilliant air, and fell and fertilized the earth about the sacred hill. A 
thousand years from now men will still gather round in wonder and worship to gaze upon the 
gorgeous pageant of flowers that glow upon the glowing grass and to feast upon the ripe fruits that 
burden the two great trees which tower like pillars for a gateway to my garden --- the tree of the 
knowledge of Good and Evil and the Tree of Life.