The words just spoken have been wrung from out A soul, which hath been given to our times To grace the realms of sense with life's true worth. And in this field I doubt if any one With doctor Strader could compete today. But I myself trod very different paths To find out what is needful for the soul. So I, too, beg your leave to speak a word. Fate hath made clear to me that I must search Among those treasures, which disclose themselves To every man within his inmost soul. Therein I seemed to find true wisdom's light Which can full well illuminate life's worth. The mystic pupilship was given me In solitude and contemplation deep. And thus I learned that all that makes man lord Of this strong realm of sense, doth only serve To blind his being, and condemn mankind To search in darkness for the way of life. Aye, e'en those gems of knowledge which the use Of reason and of sense hath found on earth, Are but faint gropings in a darkened realm. I know it is the mystic way alone That can direct our steps to life's true light. Myself I stood upon that path of truth As one who strives without a helping hand; But all men cannot struggle thus alone. The knowledge gained by sense and intellect Seems like a body left without a soul When it doth set itself defiantly Against the light that since Earth's dawn hath streamed From sacred temples of true mystery. Ye therefore ought in gratitude to grasp The hand that beckons from the Temple now Upon whose threshold roses full of light Girdle significant the sign of death. LOUISA FEAR-GOD: A man who feels the worth of his own soul Can but rely upon his own ideas, If he desire to know the spirit-worlds And find himself therein in very truth. Whoe'er can give himself, with blindfold faith, To outside guidance, first must lose himself. Aye, e'en that light, which deep within himself A man may feel as highest wisdom's power Claims spirit-recognition only when Its truth admits of proof within itself. This light may be a danger to a man If he draws near thereto without such proof. For often on this path the soul appears But as some picture, drawn from cosmic depths, Springing from out its own unconscious wish. FREDERICK CLEAR-MIND: Fully to understand the mystic way Each man must trace its impulse in himself. Who, ere he enters on the search, doth form In his own soul a picture of the goal, Whereto that search must lead, is sure to find Instead of truth, delusion's fantasy. For, we may say, that each true mystic should Thus hold himself toward the goal of truth As one who from a mountain-top would gaze Upon the beauty of a distant view. He waits till he has gained the utmost height Before he tries to picture all the scene Whereto his pilgrimage hath guided him.