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Victor B. Neuburg Diary Entry Friday, 18 June 1909
At the time of my acceptance as a Chela into the A∴A∴ I was basically employed in working for my Final at Cambridge, and having but three weeks wherein to do practically two years’ work, everything other than Academic study had to be temporarily abandoned.
The only magical practice performed during these three weeks, and during the examination (which lasted one week), was that of the Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram, which up to this time has been regularly performed by me.
The effects of the Ritual seemed to diminish by repetition.[1] I think the constant use of the same formula has a tendency to reduce the formula to a mere formality: at any rate, this is my experience. The Repetition of the Banishing Ritual (it was used by me immediately before slipping into bed) seemed to make it lose its force.
At first I had a ‘sense’ that something—or someone—was actually, almost objectively, being invoked, and was responding. Later this consciousness vanished; always, however, there was some sense of power received.
The effect of the ritual seemed to be some subtle one over sleep. So far from common astral experiences,—voices, etc.—being banished from the consciousness, they seem to become in some fashion more real, and somewhat more definite.
The quality of the sleep following the use of the Ritual is, I think, improved: it is less broken, and waking is easier and less abrupt.
During the past six weeks, which have been spent almost entirely at Cambridge, the astral vision[2] that I have always had has been more rare and not at all striking: it has manifested itself chiefly during periods of weariness and depression.
When I returned to Cambridge some six or seven[3] weeks ago, I was incapable of any worry or depression of any kind: a Panic Revival had taken place within me, owing, almost certainly I think, to the fact that I had then been copulating with one whom I loved.[4]
Gradually and imperceptibly this rapture wore off, its departure being hastened probably by Academic, family and financial worries, which followed thick and fast upon each other until the present time, when my affairs are at a stand still, and I am depressed and worried owing to several causes. I was successful, by the way, in my examination, and am entitled to an honours degree, which I shall, however, not take, having no use for it, and being unable to afford the twelve pounds (or guineas) which it costs.
I mention these facts here in order to give some account of my present mental condition.
My last four days at Cambridge, which I have now quitted in all probability for ever, were extremely embarrassing ones, owing to the fact that the whole of my available cash—some ₤9, which I obtained from the sale of books and a few pictures—had been appropriated by a friend.[5]
Physically, I am at the present moment quite fit; I have not much energy, however, because I have been too busy to take exercise during the past six weeks, and I am worried by various matters; this must have some effect upon my physical condition. At the present moment—this actual moment of writing, I mean[6]—I am cold and slightly tired.
On the 16th. of June, (1909), I left Cambridge for Foyers, Scotland, which I reached with a Cambridge friend on the afternoon of the 17th. We are staying with the Neophyte who introduced me into the Order, and last night, (the 17th.), I was informed by my host that I was at liberty to retire magically for ten days. I am writing this Record in the afternoon of June 18; this is the first day of my Magical Retirement.
This morning I awoke late, being tired after my journey, and also owing to other events which must not here be written.
After a breakfast of tea, toast and bread, I had a very hot bath, afterwards retiring to the Chamber prepared for me. In the Chamber are an ankh, a magick sword, an altar with incense upon it, and a supply of charcoal and incense. Owing to the weather, the room is far too cold to be comfortable, but the mental and astral atmospheres are almost entirely satisfactory; they are not entirely satisfactory because they are not strong enough. I think the room has not been used for magical purposes for some time.
I find I have forgotten to mention two facts, so I shall insert them here.
The floor of the room where my retirement takes place—I am writing downstairs in my bedroom—is almost entirely occupied by a magick circle.
The house, a very old one, is haunted,—I think by a rather large number of ghosts.
Almost immediately upon entering the chamber this morning, I seemed to get in rapport again with a ritual I have lost, I think, for many lives. I said a ritual in English,—an original one, whose words I cannot recall,—and though the phrases came haltingly and stumblingly to my lips, there was to some extent Recollection. The Ritual concerned seven gods above and seven gods beneath and one god. I can remember no more of this. After the recital of this Ritual, I performed the Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram,[7] describing the Pentagrams, of course, with the magick sword,—not too successfully, for there is not enough space between the edge of the Circle and the walls to swing the Sword properly.
After the Rituals I sat in the asana-posture[8] prescribed for me by my Superior in the Order, and afterwards practised shavasana. I had a sense of failure while in these positions. An experiment in the ‘stork’ position was much more successful from a physical point of view. My great difficulty this morning was to keep my mind from wandering.
I obtained some curious results. At one stage of the proceedings I was impelled to march seven times around the Circle, holding the Sword vertically, and at the conclusion of the seventh encircling saying some words in a tongue quite unknown to me, (probably gibberish). This invocation ended with the word or syllable ‘mah’, repeated three times. This is all I can remember of it.
At another time while squatting in the asana-posture I suddenly bethought myself of saying a mantra. The one I chose was ‘Aum tat sat Aum’. I began loudly and slowly, gradually becoming softer and more rapid. The sense of time became quite confused, and presently I fell back—my head falling outside the Circle—in a kind of ecstatic trance. At first I had an impression of sea and wind, but presently my only ‘feeling’ was that of exquisitely soft violet light. This was the predominating—indeed, the only—sensation: I increased the delight by repeating loudly at intervals the syllable Aum.
During the morning I burned incense almost continually, and wore of course my magical robe. I was doing yoga nearly all the time. Shortly after my trance my host summoned me to lunch. It consisted of cutlets and potatoes, dry toast: stewed rhubarb and rice-pudding. I drank a little water.
It is now 4.15[9] and I am about to retire to the Chamber: I think I shall not be too successful this afternoon, partly owing to the chill of the room.
7 p.m. I have tried yoga in all postures, the same mantra as I tried this morning, and breathing-exercise. It has been an afternoon of utter failure, with no results whatever, save physical cold and weariness. Spiritually I am dead and dry.[10]
“Dead love, dead faith, dead hope.”
Better luck tonight or tomorrow.
I shall stay here in my bed-room and don my dressing-gown. Possibly I shall read θελημα, the only book not on the Index.
1—Yes; but continue, brother!—P. 2—Describe these things; you’re not writing for C________.[word omitted] —P. [See appendix. —O.V.] 3—Eight weeks would be nearer the mark.—O.V. 4—This is unsuited in its language to the venerable beings who have to read it.—P. [This refers to an obscure Cambridge phrase, here omitted.—O.V.] 5—The ‘appropriation’ is alleged to be only temporary. I hope it is. It was terribly embarrassing.—O.V. 6—That is, of course, the moment of recording,—not of copying.—O.V. 7—I have learned since that I performed this ceremony very incorrectly.—O.V. 8—The ‘Japanese’ posture, invented (I think) by my most Holy Guru. 9—The introduction, and the Record to the words ‘chill of the room’ were written between lunch and 4.15.—O.V. 10—For dryness try Pranayama. Pranayama is grateful and comforting. It warms probationer.—P. [‘Dryness’ is a word used by the Spanish mystics to denote spiritual deadness.—O.V.]
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