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Frank Bennett Diary Entry Friday, 9 September 1921
[1]Friday. Got up at 6 a.m., washed and cleared the tent at 6.30. 6.30 to 7, Meditated on reconciling Tangle with necessity. Got the idea of God in everything—in all I had considered bad, and in all that everybody else considered bad. In fact, I saw God in all things; now I must find the cause of this. 11 to 12, Tried to learn how to take advantage of Tangle. I saw God again in everything ugly and deformed, as well as in all things beautiful. In every insect, in all its forms chasing some other form on which to live. And I saw the instinct bred from experience; and this experience was the sum total of all existence, all through, from the lowest form of matter up to the highest man. In man, this experience must become conscious, then he may realize God, or become wise.
Jones' [Charles Stansfeld Jones] Letter.
Today at dinner, the Beast got a letter from Sir Stansfeld Jones, which was his reply to my work as Zelator, in which there were two outstanding points. On which I thought was strong—Astral Journeys—and the Cabbala, in which I always knew I was weak. But I see clearly that he is right. I thought for years that I could Scry. Now I know that I do not know the most elementary thing about it. Well, I must start at the beginning. It is like Theosophy, having wasted so many years on it, and then having to start all over again. Not wasted experience; I shall not make these mistakes again.
The Cabbala is different; I never felt that I did know it. At the same time I was told by the Inner Voice to lecture on it, and I almost cried when I announced that I was going to lecture.
Although I had read and re-read, all the Cabbala I could get hold of, I felt I did not know it. But the lectures were a great success, and I received a great many letters (from the people that had heard) saying how much they had helped them. The trouble is the tangle of consciousness—the physical consciousness is hampered by very bad expression. Yet if I meet a person who knows nothing, or even a little of the Cabala, I am able to help him, and express myself clearly. But if it is the Beast, or Jones, or anyone I think knows the Cabbala, I am struck dumb. This was so even with Russell; and yet I feel I know, somewhere in my blank consciousness that I do know, for many times when speaking, I have made copious notes, and never at any time had need of them. Well, if he is right (and I know he is, in every detail), there is nothing to do but learn the lesson of experience, which I will strive to do with all my power.
THANK YOU, JONES.
The Beast's Comment. He, the dear old soul, is trying to help me all he can, all in his power; but it is like pushing a donkey uphill, and he does nothing but bray. Dear old Beast, even you cannot make silk slippers out of sow's ears. (However, I appreciate it very much). This is enough of this rubbish. I will do what I can, even Angels cannot do more.
Oh, how small I feel at this time, not of despair, but of overwhelming blackness, of the vast amount of work to be done. Let me arise and gird myself to tread this path of darkness, even so I may find the light, that I may be a worthy disciple of so worthy a MASTER. If not in this incarnation, I may in the next, so train my consciousness to be as smart in the Cabbala, as my physical consciousness is smart to do physical work. Learn how to reconcile Tangles and take advantage of it, that is experience, and worth having.
2.30 to 5.30 pm. I started to think over Bro. Jones' letter, and found that I had that terrible Tangle born of physical advancement, for no other reason but to speak of my wonderful attainment. This was a great shock to all my physical being. I began to tremble with the enormity of my mistake, and began to shed tears.[2]
Then I arose and said: 'Thou Gorgon of Hell, thou bloody Whore of the Seven Churches of the Fallen Aeon. Thou thought to bribe me with thy foul money, and sentimentality of thy bastard whoredom.[3] But blessed by the Beast for his help in this Tangle. I have seen thee, in all thy filth and slime.'
'I Progradior swear from this hour, I will use the scourge of God—my True Will. I will scourge thee from thy throne in my consciousness, and DROWN thee in the black green slime of thy ungodly whoredom, in the Black Hell of Despair.'
'I am tired and feverish. I must lie down. Now fear not to escape me, for I will best even this. I will chase thee with the subtlety of my will, and test thy subtle disguise, with all that I am capable of in all my experience. AUM.'
9 pm. Now I lay down, being very weary and tired. I had a Vision, and again I saw the Beast 666, doing all he could to push the donkey up the mountain path, which I now saw was narrow, and rising like a wall on each side. The donkey had now come to a step in the path, which he would not mount; he walked to one side and the other, as if trying to find some easy way. Now when the Beast 666 saw that the donkey would not mount the step, he said 'Now you must try and mount that step yourself.' And with that, he turned and walked down that mountain path.
And as he went further away from the donkey, if became darker and darker, as he further he went. Now when he had gone some distance down, he turned a bend I the road, and all became dark. And when the donkey saw it was dark, he lifted up his head up high in the air, and began to bray. Now as he lifted up his head, I saw under his cheek bones the face of Frater Progradior—just as the Beast had drawn him, with closed eyes, and long and troubled face. Now the donkey became quite lively, walking to the side and trying to climb around. He would do anything but mount the step as he should. So after a while, he became tired, and his head sank down almost to the ground. And as I watched him, he was growing smaller and smaller. Then a strange thing happened: what was before a donkey was now a pig or a boar, for now he had a bright horn on his snout, which he began to use with great energy to tear up the path and the step. Now as he used his snout in this manner, it became bright, and a tiny spark could be seen almost at the very point, which seemed to anger the hog, who was trying his best to cover his horn with dirt, so that the light could not be seen. And the more he rooted in the hard earth, the more polished his horn became, and the brighter grew the tiny spark.
Now when he saw this, he became very wild and angry, running about in his mad rage; until at last he ran off the path of the mountain. He bounded into the sty, which was thick and wet with his own excrement. Here again, he began to try to cover the light in his horn by tearing up the floor of his sty. But the filth was too thin, and ran down his horn, and the tiny light shone out. At last, he had torn all the floor up, except for one dark corner, which was full of thick hard filth. As he saw this, he rushed at it, tearing it up with all his might; and this being thick, it stuck to his horn, and at last he was satisfied, and laid himself down in the filth and excrement, and was soon asleep.
Now as he slept, the light within him began to melt the filth that had stuck to it, which ran off; so the tiny light shone forth again. And as it shone, something began to rise out of the pig. It rose upwards, until it was the size of a man. But still it had the horn on its forehead, and within was still the tiny light which was now much brighter than ever it had been before. And by its light, I saw the figure that had risen from the sleeping pig. And lo! Again it was Frater Progradior. And something was now trying to cover the light. There were two hands clasped round the horn: ugly, scaly, hairy hands; but they could not cover the light completely.
Now the figure of Progradior began to sink in the filth, until he could hardly move, and a great despair came over him, as he realized how low he had sunk. Then something whispered to him, saying: 'How can you hope to fight against such odds? You are two score and fourteen years old. How can you expect to accomplish anything? You had better make an end of it. End your life now as a sacrifice to the Gods of the New Aeon, so that you may have a better chance in your next incarnation.'
Progradior thought: 'Yes! What a grand thing to do—become the first sacrifice of the New Aeon.
Now as he thus decided to end his present existence, he felt something tighten around his neck, and something took a firmer grip on his horn, wherein was his light; and it became very dim. But at this moment he remembered his oath that he had sworn a few hours before. And immediately the light in his horn became bright again; and the grip relaxed round his head and neck. remembered his oath, when the light in his horn shone out bright, that the horny, hairy hands that had clasped his horn were relaxed; and he saw an ugly, scaly, hairy little old man sitting on his shoulders, with his legs round his neck. When Progradior saw this, all that he had said he would do a few hours before came to him; and he realized that this was the thing he had to fight.
So he took to himself the sword of his spirit, and the wand of his will; and as he did this, he found he was standing on dry land, his feet planted firmly, with a bright sword in his right hand, and in his left a wand. And hanging from his waist-band was a scourge; and at his side in a sheath was a dagger to cut away all the Tangle. And as he saw all these things to his hand, he began to swell again with pride. And as he looked at the old man, he said in his pride: 'By my subtle insight I found thee, and I am glad: for thou art a worthy foe; now I will smite thee.' But at this moment, he found he was sinking again in the soft, slimy, filth; his sword had dropped with its point in the earth, his scourge had dropped from his waist-band, and his dagger hung loose by his side. The grip had tightened round his neck and head; and the light in his horn was dim. So he cried aloud to the Queen of Heaven—Adonai, to save him.
And as he did this with great energy, seeing the dire distress he was in, he again found his light begin to burn brighter. And again he was on solid ground, with his sword erect in his hand; his wand in its right place; and the scourge and dagger again ready to hand. And now the light in his horn burned with a brighter light than ever. So Progradior said: 'I will keep the sword of my spirit to watch this monster from above, and the wand of my will from below, so that I may be alert at all times.'
Now as he watched the old man that sat on his shoulders by the greater light, he saw that the old man was made up of all the bodily desires, of all the lives he had destroyed to sustain his own life, through all the long course of evolution—in fact, it was his own creation. So he said: 'O Monster, I know not what thou art, but I know that thou and I must part. When, or where, or how we met, is to me a secret, yet we have been long together, through pleasant and stormy weather: it's hard to part.'
Now the light in his horn became dim. And Progradior saw that the horn on his forehead had grown into a Phallic Horn; and the two hands that had clasped it all the time, were climbing slowly up the Phallic Pillar. They were now on the topmost point. What will happen now? I must watch. But the light again began to dim. Now I began to realize that to talk to this Monster, to give it any attention whatever, was to give it life; and as it grew stronger in life, so in comparison did the light in my horn grow dim.
Then did Frater Progradior consider within himself what he had best to do, to destroy a Monster of such subtle power. Now the Sword of my Spirit I will keep to watch over me, and keep me in my chosen path. The Wand shall be my True Will, to help and sustain; with the Dagger, I will cut away all the Tangle of Life; and the Scourge I will use on myself, when I go astray.
Now not to think of this Monster, I will take a Sigil thus: and concentrate on that without allowing the thought to wander, until it shall glow with light. Then I will concentrate to push the Cross into a Tau thus: This shall be the symbol of my name GOING or ON. Then I will concentrate to bring the two arms down, so as to represent my Phallic Horn. Then I will take the symbol of the Sun thus: which shall be to me the symbol of Adonai. My Angel, my Spouse. Then I will intoxicate myself, in love and worship; singing love songs and drinking sweet intoxicating wine until I shall roll about in ecstasy of love. And the old man then shall become uncomfortable, and my joy and ecstasy shall drink of the wine, which is the Blood of Adonai; and he shall become drunk and roll from my shoulders. Then I shall arise and enter the chamber of my loved one, Adonai, and shall look upon her beauty, and will sing my love songs to her, and shall kiss her eyelids, and drink in the sweet perfume of her purity, and will ravish her in my ecstasy of love. Then did I arise and tell her how I had slain the Old Man of the Mountain. How I had thrown him from me, and drowned him in the filthy pit of his own slime. And even as I grew hot in my boast of what I had done, lo, my Adonai began to fade, and I became alarmed, but could not move—only watch my Beloved fade away; and I was left alone again.
Now at this moment of loneliness and darkness, there came from the North door a light, and as I looked, I saw a beautiful Maiden, with glossy hair, and I thought this was my Love, Adonai. And as I rushed towards her, a Voice within me said: 'Beware of the Old Man of the Mountain!' Then I realised that the wine, which was the blood of my beloved Adonai, had regenerated him, and he was here in the form of a beautiful girl. And with this knowledge of how, by my boast, I had killed my Adonai, I fell on the floor in a swoon.
1—A note in Crowley's hand in the margin next to this paragraph reads: 'Pretty good: observe how it agrees with the regular scientific doctrine and explains it.' 2—Crowley's comment: 'Good: but don't cry.' 3—Crowley has crossed out the word 'whoredom' in this and the following paragraph, replacing it with 'respectability.' In the margin he noted: 'Don't say whoredom when you mean Respectability.'
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