Millions of beings there are who, although disrobed of fleshly garments, are yet pilgrims in search of the soul-world.

I am induced to say thus much in order to disabuse the public mind relative to Rosicrucianism, which is but one of our outer doors—and which was not originated by Christian Rosencrux; but merely revived, and replanted in Europe by him subsequent to his return from oriental lands, whither, like myself and hundreds of others, he went for initiation.

The Rosicrucian system is, and never was other else than a door to the ineffable Grand Temple of Eulis.

Sex power is God power.

Thus it is seen how and why man is the culmination of nature, and is brother to the flower and the worm.

Let it be observed, that every human being is surrounded with an atmosphere emanating from themselves, and that these enveloping auras are charged by the man or woman with all the qualities good or bad, pertaining to the individual.

Physical possession never yet satisfied a soul, and never will.

Let us go, then, to the land of romance and of dream,—the land of the Holy Byblus, and the Sacred Ganges. Standing upon their shores, our minds will revert back in the dim ages, to the days of our childhood, and the birth of the mystical reign of Ahrimanes. We will behold in our mind's eye a succession of kingdoms, like the succession of seasons, a rise and fall of dynasties, like the sowing and reaping of grain. We will count the number of patricians who live in idleness and luxury, and shudder at the multitude of plebeians who die in agony and want. Behold those monsters of selfishness and cruelty, whose insatiable appetite of ambition and pride, wealth and power, could not appease, and for whose maw the quivering flesh and trickling blood of a people became food. Here and there, we will find men struggling against oppression as we have struggled; people teaching virtue and charity as we have taught,—reviled and scorned as we have been. We will discover that others have borne our burdens who had no hope of receiving our reward; that knowledge is universal, and has no royal road; and that they were as wise in the wisdom of their generation, as we are in ours.

And now tread softly. We are entering the dark realm of the slumbering ages. The dust of a million years has gathered here, and no voice has awakened its echoes since the days when the Indian Bacchus consorted with the daughters of men.

We have left the land of the probable, and are journeying in the regions of the possible. The footprints here and there are of mortals, but of those who have beheld the hidden mysteries of Eulis, who are familiars of the Cabbala, who have raised the veil of Isis, and revealed the Chrishna

It is of my death that first I wish to speak, and of what took place thereafter - of where and how I found myself as soon as the icy hand of Death had touched my heart, and frozen up my vitals.

Sex is a thing of soul.

The communication between the soul-world and earth is far more difficult and rare than I had believed, or than thousands believe today. Much, I had learned, that passes among men for spiritual manifestation, really has no such origin, while many things, attributed to an origin purely mundane, are really the work of intelligent beings, beyond the misty veil.

How little, how very little, I then knew or suspected concerning the mighty powers latent, and never yet fully unfolded in any human being - no matter whom, no matter where located, how high in heaven, on earth, or deep down in the bottomless hell, or the blackest barathrum of the infinitudes of Possibility. No one save God can fathom the profounds of Soul. Why? Because, like Him, it is absolutely Infinite.

Sex is a thing of soul; most people think it but a mere matter of earthly form and physical structure. True, there are some unsexed souls; some no sex at all, and others still claiming one gender, and manifesting its exact opposite. But its laws, offices, utilities, and its deeper and diviner meanings are sealed books to all but about two in a million; yet they ought to have the attentive study of every rational human being, every aspirant to immortality beyond the grave. In some sense this matter has been, and is, the subject of thought, but only in its outer phases, or its grosser aspects; seldom in its higher ones, and never, until now, in any of its loftier and mystical bearings. Books by ship-loads on one or two, and always either its physiological or sentimental sides of the subject, have been put forth by ambitious M.D's, or notoriety-seeking empirics; books which mainly satisfied a prurient taste or morbid curiosity, gave but little light, and generally left their readers practically as ignorant as before.