hence the strongly androgynous character of the dying and resurrected Redeemer. That these heroes are nearly always wanderers[420] is a psychologically clear symbolism. The wandering is a representation of longing,[421] of the ever-restless desire, which nowhere finds its object, for, unknown to itself, it seeks the lost mother. The wandering association renders the Sun comparison easily intelligible; also, under this aspect, the heroes always resemble the wandering Sun, which seems to justify the fact that the myth of the hero is a sun myth. But the myth of the hero, however, is, as it appears to me, the myth of our own suffering unconscious, which has an unquenchable longing for all the deepest sources of our own being; for the body of the mother, and through it for communion with infinite life in the countless forms of existence. Here I must introduce the words of the Master who has divined the deepest roots of Faustian longings: “Unwilling, I reveal a loftier mystery.— In solitude are throned the Goddesses, No Space around them, Place and Time still less: Only to speak of them embarrasses. They are THE MOTHERS! “Goddesses unknown to ye, The Mortals,—named by us unwillingly. Delve in the deepest depths must thou to reach them: ’Tis thine own fault that we for help beseech them. “Where is the way? “No way! To the Unreachable, Ne’er to be trodden! A way to the Unbeseechable, Never to be besought! Art thou prepared? There are no locks, no latches to be lifted! Through endless solitudes shalt thou be drifted! Hast thou through solitudes and deserts dared? And hadst thou swum to farthest verge of ocean And there the boundless space beheld, Still hadst thou seen wave after wave in motion, Even though impending doom thy fear compelled. Thou hadst seen something—in the beryl dim Of peace-lulled seas, the sportive dolphins swim; Hadst seen the flying clouds, sun, moon and star; Nought shalt thou see in endless Void afar— Not hear thy footstep fall, nor meet A stable spot to rest thy feet. “Here, take this key! The Key will scent the true place from all others; Follow it down! ‘Twill lead thee to the Mothers. “Descend then! I could also say: Ascend! ’Twere all the same. _Escape from the Created_ To shapeless forms in liberated spaces! Enjoy what long ere this was dissipated! There whirls the press, like clouds on clouds unfolding; Then with stretched arm swing high the key thou’rt holding!