APPENDIX I 
76
XII. 
“At the hour of the great Initiation,” 
continued the Buddha, in the midst of 
the 
Five Hundred Thousand Arahats, “the 
wicked Jehjaour had joined himself with 
Mara to prevent the discovery  of the truth.  
And in Mara’s fall he fell.  At that m oment 
all the currents of his continued and concen-
trated Hate recoiled upon him and 
he fell 
into the Abyss of Being.  And in the Halls of 
Birth he was cast out into the Lowest H ell—
he becam e a clergy man of the 
Church of 
England, further than he 
had ever been 
before from Truth and Light and P eace and 
Love; deeper and deeper 
enmeshed in the 
net of Circumstance, bogged in the mire 
of 
Tanha1 and Avigga2 and all things base   and 
vile.  False Vichi-Kichi 3 had caught him at 
last ! 
XIII. 
“Aye!  The hour was at hand.  Perdu 
R 
Abu was reincarnated as  a child of Western 
parents, ignorant of all his wonderful past. 
 
But a strange fate has brought him to this 
village.”  The Buddha paused, probalby  for 
effect. 
A young man there, sole among them not 
yet an Arahat, turned pale.  He alone was of 
Western birth in all that multitude. 
“Brother Abhavananda, 4 little friend,” 
said the Buddha, “what can we predicate of 
all existin things? ”  “ Lord!” replied the 
neophyte, “they  are unstable, every thing is 
sorrow, in them  is no inward Principle, as 
some pretend, that can avoid, that can hold 
itself aloof from, the forces of decay.” 
“And how do y
ou know that, little 
Brother?” smiled the Thrice-Honoured One. 
“Lord, I  perceive  this Truth wheneverI 
 
1 Thirst: i.e. desire in its evil sense. 
2 Ignorance. 
3 Doubt. 
4 “Bliss-of-non-existence.” One of Crowley’s 
eastern names. 
consider 
the 
Universe.  More, its 
consciousness seems ingrained in my  very  
nature, perhaps through my  having known 
this for many  incarnations. I 
have never 
thought otherwise.” 
”Rise, Sir Abhavananda, I 
dub thee 
Arahat!” cried the Buddha, striking the 
neophyte ently  on the back with the flat 
 
of his ear.1  
And he perceived. 
When the applause and praise and glory 
had a little faded, the Buddha, in that golden 
delight of sunset, explained these marvellous 
events.  “Thou, Abhavananda,” he said, “art 
the Perdu’ R Abu of my  lengthy tale.  The 
wicked Jehjaour has got something 
linger-
ing with boiling oil in it, while waiting for 
his clerical clothes : while, as  for me, I 
myself was the Bacillus in the forest of 
Lanka : I was the old 
Lady : I was (he 
shuddered) the British Governm ent : I was 
the mosquito that buzzed in the girl’s  flute : 
I was Bhavani : I was  Huxlananda S wami ; 
and at the last, at this blessed hour, I am—
that I am.” 
“But, Lord,” said the Five 
Hundred 
Thousand and One Arahats in a breath, 
“thou art then guilty  of six violent deaths !  
Nay, thou hast hounded one soul from death 
to death through all these incarnations 
!  
What of this First Precept2 of yours ?” 
“Children,” ans wered the Glorious  One, 
“do not be so foolish as to think that death is 
necessarily an evil.  I have not com
e to 
found a Hundred Years Club, and to i
nclude 
mosquitoes in the m embership.  In this  case 
to have kept Perdu’ R Abu alive was to h ave 
played into the hands of his enemies.  My
 
First Precept is m erely a general rule. 3  In 
 
1 The Buddha had such long ear s that he could 
cover the whole of his f ace with them .  Ears are 
referred to Spirit in Hindu sy mbolism, so that the 
legend means he could conceal the lower elements 
and dwell in this alone. 
2 Here is the little rift within the lute which 
alienated Crowley f rom a ctive w ork o n Buddhist 
lines; the orthodox failing to see his attitude. 
3 A more likely idea that the brilliantly logical 
nonsense of “Pansil,” supra.