"Let the magician stand within the great world sea. Let him immerse himself in water and there let him stand his ground. Let him look down into the watery depths. Nothing is seen in form correct. Nothing appears but water. Beneath his feet it moves, around him, and above his head. He cannot speak; he cannot see. Truth disappears in water.

"Let the magician stand within the stream. Around him water flows. His feet stand firm on land and rock, but all the forms he sees are lost in the grey immensity of mist. The water is around his neck, but, feet on rock and head in air, he maketh progress. All is distortion still. He knows he stands, but where to go and how to go he knows not, nor understands. He sounds the words of magic, but muffled, dim and lost, the mist returns them to him, and no true note sounds forth. Around him are the many sounds of many forms, which swallow up his sound.

"Let the magician stand in watery mist, free of the running stream. Some outlines dim appear. He sees a little distance on the Path. Flickers of light break through the clouds of mist and fog, He hears his voice; its note is clearer and more true. The forms of other pilgrims can be seen. Behind him is the sea. Beneath his feet is seen the stream. Around him mist and fog. Above his head no sky is seen nor sun.

"Let the magician stand on higher ground, but in the rain. The drops pour down upon him; the thunder breaks; the lightning flashes in the sky. But as the rain pours down, [617] it dissipates the mist, it washes clean the form and clears the atmosphere.

"Thus forms are seen and sounds are heard, though dim as yet, for loud the thunder roars and heavy is the sound of falling rain. But now the sky is seen; the sun breaks forth and in between the drifting clouds, expanses of the blue of heaven cheer the tired eyes of the disciple.

"Let the magician stand upon the mountain top. Beneath him in the valleys and the plains, water and streams and clouds are seen. Above him is the blue of heaven, the radiance of the rising sun, the pureness of the mountain air. Each sound is clear. The silence speaks with sound."

More as to the magical work I may not at this time give. The words that blend may not under any circumstances be given except under the oath of secrecy which governs automatically the pledged disciple; these oaths are given to no man but are rendered by the aspirant to his own soul when that soul has conveyed to him the words. He finds them for himself as the result of tireless effort and endeavor. He knows that these formulas are the prerogative of all souls and can only be known and safely used by those who have realized the Self as One. He therefore pledges himself never to reveal these [618] words to any one who is not functioning as a soul or who is wandering blinded in the vale of illusion. From this automatic response to knowledge by the knowers of the race, the Hierarchy of Adepts has gathered its personnel.