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The Vault, the Altar, and the Pastos. The Cross of Suffering and the Two Pillars.

*the seven walls are painted by the pattern suggested in The Magic Machine (2014) by Nick Farrell. Special thanks to him.

generated by Shade 11.

Allan Bennett in 1908

Buddhism in London (Ananda Matteya)

  Many students in metapsychism, seeking for a satisfactory explanation of the phenomena, find themselves drifting on to Buddhistic grounds.

  Such students will be interested in the movement afoot to erect a Buddhist Temple in London. The head of the order, now resident in London, is Ananda Matteya.

  The Bhikku Ananda Matteya ( or Maitriya)) was born in London in 1872. His birth name was Allan Bennett MacGregor, and he was educated at Hollesley College and Bath. His natural bent was for scientific and philosophical reading, and he studied experimental analytical chemistry under Dr. Bernard Dyer, of Great Tower Street, in the City of London.

  He early drifted from adherence to the tenets of the orthodox faith in Agnosticism. His first definite knowledge of the tenets of Buddhism was gained from a perusal of Sir Edwin Arnold's poem, The Light of Asia, and further study along those lines led him, at the age of eighteen, to become an acknowledged adherent of the Buddhist faith.

  Shortly after this time  he was ordered to the East for the benefit of his health. He at once elected to go to Ceylon, where he devoted his time to the study of Sanskrit, Pali, and the Buddhist Scriptures. In December, 1901, he renounced the world, donned the Yellow Robe, and on May 21st, 1902, was ordained Bhikku, when he assumed the name of Ananda Matteya. This ceremony was on the day known as the Buddhist New Year's Day. Seventy-five priests took part in the ceremonial, and the town of Kgarook Kyoung is said, by one who was present to have been "golden with the robes of the priests".

  In the address, he delivered on this occasion, Ananda Maatteya set himself the task of establishing the Sangha of the Buddha in the West -- a task too stupendous to be accomplished single-handed. Other converts of Western nationality, therefore, have also journeyed to the East, entered the Sangha, acquired a thorough knowledge of the Dharma, sought and obtained ordination, and will shortly arrive in London for the express purpose of founding a Western Sangha. The Bhikku Ananda Matteya is already here, so that it is by no means improbable that a Buddhist Temple in the metropolis may shoryly be erected, and the Yellow Robe become a familiar spectacle there. The services of men of education only have been enlisted, and the aim is to promote Buddhism on Buddhist principles, one of which is that no adherent shall revile or abuse any form of religious belief held by others.


------- Annals of Psychical Science Vol.7. no.41. p.260. (1908)

All Soul's Night 2013

 So I celebrated 2013 All Soul's Night "Horton & Miss Locke", this time adding the first edition of The Tower by W.B. Yeats on the table.

And strangely enough, The Unknown Angel of Byzantium Style painted on the block of wood came to my room last week, a gift from an European lady.

I might say my little ritual is going well.

Tablet of Union 3D

New 3D image of Tablet of Union. Carefully modelled and rendered.

Rotating image. Experimental.

Dustjackets

Some dustjackets of Yeats's books have interesting designs from an occult view point. We are not sure to what extent the designers, notably T. Sturge Moore and his mentor Charles Ricketts, pursued the symbolism, but the results were really fine.

W. B. Yeats, Plays in Prose and Verse (1922) design by Charles Ricketts

W. B. Yeats, Last Poems & Plays (1940) design by T. Sturge Moore.

Poems by J.W. Brodie-Innes

ONE DAY.

I.

Once, on a golden summer's day,

We left the road, we climbed th brae.

The sweet hills all around us lay

In royal robes of heather.

Scarce felt the wooing scented air,

I only knew we two sat there

Jeannie and I together.

II.

O life hath brought full many a boon

When young blood thrilled in life's mid-noon,

In bounding time to love's sweet tune,

And loves and joys were many.

Yet sooth that hour was worth them all

To watch the lengthening shadows fall,

And hear the distant curlew call,

Out on the moors with Jeannie.

III.

And clear, and calm, and sweet to see,

The young moon rose o'er Logan lea,

With promise fair for her and me

of all love's dearest blisses.

All radiant hues of seas and skies

Reflect themselves in Jennie's eyes

And dreamland all around us lies,

As sweet as Jeannie's kisses.

IV.

So bide for aye thou lovely dream!

When from life's dark and gloomy stream

For ever fades that one bright gleam,

And, like some prisoned startling,

I cry to years grown dull and grey,

Oh, give me back my summer's day,

Out on the moors of Logan brae,

With my unforgotten darling.

-- J.W. Brodie Innes

----------------------------------------------------

THE GHOST OF AUNT ELIZA

OH! once I was gay

As a child at play,

I'm sadder now and wiser,

For it's mine to boast

I've seen the ghost

Of my maiden aunt Eliza.

I own, with a sigh,

That never I

Much did idolize her.

A Vigilant

Old termagant

Was my gaunt aunt Eliza.

I did not know,

When I laid her low

Beneath the ancient minster,

That her coffin lid

could fail to keep hid

That venerable spinster.

She told me oft

(But I hear I scoffed)

That nought on earth could stop her,

She'd rise from her grave

Should I behave

In a way she thought improper.

So I tried for days

Her ghost to raise,

Committed crimes by the dozen,

I forged a will,

Ran a private still,

 And scraged my second cousin.

But she heeded nought,

And I rather thought

Perhaps she didn't get out

From the place where she was gone to.

But on Christmas day,

Sad to say!

(It was somebody else's sister),

I saw her to

'Neath the mistletoe,

Then and there I kissed her.

Then, gaunt and grim,

through blue lights dim,

Appeared my aunt Eliza,

And from my bones

With moans and groans,

That I did surprise her.

And, since that night,

A weary wight,

Haunted by aunt I wander,

That vigilant

Old termagant

Keeps up her mournful daunder.

And never a whit

Cant I get quit

Of that grim moralizer,

I'm always watched,

and mostly "cotched,"

By my gaunt aunt Eliza.

--J.W. Brodie-Innes.

from The Beggar's Wallet (1905).

ALL SOULS' NIGHT

"And it is All Souls' Night.
And two long glasses brimmed with muscatel
Bubble upon the table. A ghost may come,
For it is a ghost's right,
His element is so fine
Being sharpened by his death,
To drink from the wine-breath
While our gross palates drink from the whole wine."

so sang W.B. Yeats in his superb "All Souls' Night".

I reproduced the scene by examining the text. The wine should be a sparkling wine made from muscat grape. I chose Reymos Moscatel from Spain. And the long glasses should be the type for sparkling wine, showing the little bubbles going upward as long as possible. I purchased two of those.

I'd like to make this an annual ceremony to commemorate those personalities who appeared in the poem, especially for Horton (I love him, and love the strange story of Horton and Amy Audrey Locke). I wonder if he responds to my call.

The muscatel is so sweet and tasty. Have to be careful not to drink too much.

Divine Feminine, Horton, and Audrey Locke.

painted by W.T. Horton