AS IF 
 
 A PHILOSOPHICAL 
 PHANTASY 
 

AS IF 
 
 A PHILOSOPHICAL PHANTASY 
 
 By CORA LENORE ^ILLIAMS, M. S. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "involution"and OTHER ESSAYS 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF THE A-TO-ZED SCHOOL 
 BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA 
 
 PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS • SAN FRANCISCO 
 

 Copyright, 1914 
 
 By Paul Elder & Company 
 
 San Francisco 
 
 JUL 22 1914 
 
 ©CI.A374891 
 
(9 
 
 TO MY SISTER IEVA 
 

FOREWORD 
 
 TTT'HEN a child I had a treasure-box 
 W containing bits of colored glass and 
 crystal, things without value to others, but 
 precious to me, for they were mine in the 
 deepest sense — I had recognized their worth 
 and claimed them from the oblivion other- 
 wise their doom. This, the treasure-box of 
 my later years, is the child of that earlier 
 one. I had hoped to arrange these fragments 
 of thought into some mosaic; I had even 
 aspired to a design — some grand conception 
 — for a window in the Temple of Truth, 
 through which others might see my vision 
 and dream my dreams. But now as in those 
 by-gone days, I offer only a kaleidoscope to 
 those who would share my confidence. If 
 you shut one eye tight and look hard with the 
 other, you will see — I beg your pardon, I was 
 thinking of the other box. 
 
 C. L. W. 
 
BOOK I 
 
 THE LETTERS OF DIOCLES 
 
BOOK I 
 
 MY name is Clarence Barston. I 
 am a wireless operator, and an 
 experimenter with aeroplanes. 
 What more natural, therefore, 
 than my use of an aeroplane for a wireless 
 station? It had long since occurred to me 
 that should the dwellers of another planet be 
 endeavoring to communicate with us, the elec- 
 tric waves transmitting their message would 
 encounter so many earth currents, at even 
 our highest stations, as to become entirely 
 vitiated. If, then, we would have intercourse 
 with the universe at large, we must overcome 
 this difficulty. To this end I installed a wire- 
 less receiver on a small biplane and soared 
 to my highest altitude. Imagine my surprise 
 when the instrument recorded the following 
 outgoing message from our own sphere, — to 
 what celestial one, I know not: 
 
 To My Wife Agnesi, 
 
 In the world that was mine. 
 Dear Agnesi : 
 
 Since leaving you I am experi- 
 encing such things as no man Has ever to my 
 knowledge recorded. The course of my orbit 
 has swung me into a singular space con- 
 formation. I say singular because of the pe- 
 culiar effect that it has upon the thought of 
 
 3 
 
AS-IF 
 
 its denizens. At first I was inclined to ascribe 
 their want of rationality to a fallacious logic 
 and to rest content with that, but recollecting 
 that thought, like all other activity, is a re- 
 sponse of the organism to its environment, 
 I decided to investigate further. 
 
 As near as I am able to make out with 
 the instruments at my command, the space 
 here prevailing is of three dimensions. So 
 far the people are correct in their view of it, 
 but there is a fourth dimension in the process 
 of evolving, and already grown quite strong 
 in certain quarters, of which they have no 
 conception. They suffer, however, although 
 unconsciously so, from their inability to rec- 
 ognize this as a given datum of existence. 
 As may readily be imagined, it is impossible 
 to see with any clearness through this shift- 
 ing medium. There is a constant mental 
 aberration in consequence of the momentary 
 change of curvature. No sooner has a man 
 laid out a base line for his reasoning than it 
 becomes displaced as by an earthquake. In 
 system after system of triangulation have 
 these people vainly sought some element of 
 permanency. Try as they may, — and there 
 are many among them who devote their whole 
 lives to the effort, — it is impossible for them 
 to establish an absolute. Their status is that 
 of shadows on a fluttering curtain where 
 
 • 
 
[THE LETTEES "I 
 OF DIOCLES J 
 
 change is the only law of being. What marvel 
 that there arise false prophets who cry that 
 no knowledge is possible! Not being able to 
 meet the conditions of life intellectually, there 
 is a growing tendency on the part of the 
 thinkers to fall back npon intuition as leading 
 to greater insight than reason. With their 
 leaders gone blind, the multitudes grope in 
 the darkness. 
 
 I have been through all sorts of configur- 
 ations, yet never before have I chanced upon 
 a people so fundamentally at odds with their 
 environment. In fact, these poor Mortals — 
 so they call themselves (why, you will see 
 later) — have not even the necessary sense 
 organs for getting themselves properly 
 placed in this new space which is upon them. 
 I happened to discover this accidentally, for 
 it would never have occurred to me to ques- 
 tion the matter. Would you believe it! — 
 they are equipped with but three semilunar 
 canals! No wonder they are unable to get 
 their bearings. How they would stagger 
 about in our space of ten dimensions ! This 
 goes to show how impossible it is for a being 
 to anticipate a form of life above his own, 
 and yet we are forever speaking of the higher 
 life as if we knew all about it. 
 
 A most startling thought has just come to 
 me: May it not be that we of the world of 
 
AS-IF 
 
 ten dimensions are similarly limited in our 
 perceptions? Perhaps there is an eleventh 
 dimension, if we were ready to receive it ! We 
 have it in mathematics, as you know. And 
 why stop there! The spatial series may be 
 infinite and our evolution continue forever. 
 It is to be remarked that these beings of the 
 third dimension take it quite as complacently 
 for granted that they are the goal of the 
 evolutionary process as do we of the tenth. 
 
 You will begin to fear, dear, that the 
 things that I am experiencing are unsettling 
 my reason. Indeed, the predicament of this 
 good folk is such as to drive one mad! So 
 deep, however, is my sympathy for them, that 
 I hope to come to such an understanding of 
 reality as mathematical study alone could not 
 have given me. Would that you were here 
 with your wonderful insight into human na- 
 ture to help me see aright, dear wife! But 
 there is this to comfort us in our separation ; 
 we shall have much to tell each other when 
 once communication is established between 
 us. This is about to take place, I believe. 
 
 We little anticipated when I left you, love, 
 that it would be so long before we could hear 
 from each other. I should suffer much con- 
 cern for your peace of mind if I did not know 
 that your loyal heart would ever answer for 
 my faithfulness. My difficulty has been to 
 
 6 
 
r THE LETTEES 
 L OF DIOCLES J 
 
 find a truth sufficiently large to span the 
 chasm between worlds, — a truth which would 
 at once be one you could receive and recog- 
 nize as coming from me. All the messages 
 I have been able thus far to send have been 
 of such a general nature that you could not 
 divine their source, and so you have at- 
 tributed them, as people are wont, to the 
 spiritual revelation coming from sorrow. 
 These great transitions from life to life are 
 apparently designed to eliminate all that is 
 extraneous to reality in our being. The prob- 
 lem confronting the individual is to retain 
 his hold on the personal. Souls that love 
 each other should aspire to have eternal 
 verities in common which will survive the 
 waters of oblivion. 
 
 We made a great mistake, Agnesi, that we 
 did not seek during our life together to bring 
 our thought-worlds more into congruence. 
 You lived in your philosophy and poetry, and 
 I in my mathematics, quite content that we 
 had a mutual interest in things material. But 
 for those who would come into touch with each 
 other in the after-life, the course of being 
 must be expressed in the same elements and 
 governed by the same vital laws. We are 
 given love for just this purpose ; to enable us 
 to set up such equations together as will make 
 certain our union in the hereafter. 
 
AS-IF 
 
 In this message that I am now endeavor- 
 ing to send yon, dear, I am hoping that there 
 is sufficient of philosophical interest to take 
 hold of yonr attention, and so much of mathe- 
 matical that yon must know it as my personal 
 message. So I wait with eagerness word 
 of you, my heart's treasure. 
 
 Your devoted husband 
 
 Diocles. 
 
 The instrument showed no indica- 
 tions of a return message up to the 
 time that this second outgoing one 
 was recorded. c. b. 
 
 Dearest Agnesi : 
 
 Why is it that I do not hear from 
 you? Can it be that you did not get my mes- 
 sage? You seem very near, dear love, yet 
 something keeps us apart. Ah, I know it is 
 because you are seeking to find me in a higher 
 degree of consciousness, not dreaming that 
 my course should have suffered this regres- 
 sion! But so it is. Just what values are to 
 be derived from the law of my ego through 
 such a deflection of its orbit, I cannot foresee ; 
 that they are significant ones, I do not doubt. 
 The mathematician must first place his prob- 
 lem. The particular one in life-analysis now 
 before me has, I take it, to do with the bear- 
 
 8 
 
r THE LETTEKS "I 
 L OF DIOCLES J 
 
 ing of space-curvature upon the thought of 
 a people. 
 
 While the Mortals have no consciousness 
 of a fourth dimension as such, there is a 
 vague desire among them to be aware of an 
 unknown something. They suffer a continual 
 disquietude, never enjoying a minute's peace 
 of mind, because of this apprehension of the 
 unknown. In a pitiful effort to give form to 
 an immediacy which they do not understand, 
 they have gone so far as to externalize time, 
 their most intimate possession. That state 
 of consciousness which with us is purely sub- 
 jective, they picture as spread out in linear 
 space. Duration is transformed into a math- 
 ematical succession of points, separated one 
 from the next spatially. The past and the 
 present being thus mutually exclusive, mem- 
 ory fails to make of experience an organic 
 whole wherein what-has-been may work 
 through what-is to a greater truth. A Mortal 
 remembers an evil only to .expiate it, a good 
 but to mourn its loss. Between the past and 
 the future the present falls to the ground. On 
 the one side it is burdened with memories and 
 impressions, on the other with hopes and 
 anticipations. People here do not live; life 
 is either behind or before them. You cannot 
 conceive, dear, of the feverish unrest which 
 prevails. Indeed, so great has this time-evil 
 
AS-IF 
 
 become, that all sorts of mechanical devices, 
 called variously telephones, automobiles, etc., 
 are being invented for its annihilation. 
 
 But of all the errors arising from the lack 
 of orientation, I have yet to mention the one 
 fraught with the most direful consequences. 
 In fact, I am loth to do so, Agnesi, for fear it 
 may give you some slight uneasiness; but 
 knowing your mental poise, I proceed. Here, 
 eternity is not a state of being, as you and I 
 think, but an extension of time. Such dis- 
 placement as I have recently experienced is 
 denominated death. That word which with 
 us means spiritually lost, they apply to the 
 passing out from their empirical phase of 
 existence. Conceive, if you can, dear, the 
 sorrow that such a conception must carry 
 with it! While some among them claim to 
 believe that there is a beyond, where friends 
 meet again, all grieve as if the separation 
 were final. For this reason they call them- 
 selves Mortals — a term denoting one who 
 dies. It follows, of course, that our word 
 Immortal, which we suppose to be merely a 
 name, originally signified one who does not 
 die. This is only one of many origins that 
 I am unearthing in these spatial depths. In- 
 deed, I find that much which we have consid- 
 ered of a neurotic nature is but a reversion 
 
 10 
 
r THE LETTERS 1 
 L OF DIOCLES J 
 
 to the thought-life of this earlier space-form 
 through which we have doubtless evolved. 
 
 You see, Agnesi, that there is a great deal 
 for me to do here, not only for the enlighten- 
 ment of the people, but in the way of inform- 
 ing myself. I can teach them much, but — 
 who can say?— they may teach me more. I 
 must remember that it is ever a mistake for 
 a person to presume that he has a mission; 
 it blinds him to his own development, which 
 is truly his first duty. The Mortals would be 
 greatly shocked if they were to hear that; 
 — why, I will tell you another time. 
 
 May some word of the love and thought 
 that this contains for her reach my other 
 
 Sdf! DIOCLES. 
 
 The instrument showed signs of 
 a protracted disturbance, but the 
 electrical oscillations were too 
 faint for me to get the message. 
 
 C. B. 
 
 Dearest : 
 
 You are sending me some message, 
 I know, but it must be of a personal nature, 
 for I do not get it. Never mind, dear one, 
 your love reaches me even though your words 
 do not. What need have we of words, any- 
 
 11 
 
AS-IF 
 
 way? Our souls know the same values and 
 abide in the same eternal relations. Surely 
 that thought must come to comfort you in this 
 separation. Oh, that you could know it as 
 coming from me ! But since it bears no indi- 
 vidual mark, you will think it a mere phil- 
 osophical truth, and there is little solace to 
 be derived from abstractions. If I had only 
 given some unique turn to that thought when 
 I was with you, — put my stamp in some wise 
 on it, — you would recognize it now as my 
 special message. Oh, Agnesi, my love! We 
 lived our mutual life too much on the surface 
 of being. The little intimacies of daily liv- 
 ing were so sweet that we forgot the greater 
 things. We missed too the sorrow that might 
 have caused us to sound the depths each of 
 the other's soul; so that now, deprived of the 
 measure of common living, we find it difficult 
 to keep that close relation of the heart's ideal. 
 It has just come to me that I have written 
 you no word of my material well-being, and I 
 know without being told that your wifely 
 solicitude is questioning much concerning it. 
 Forgive me, love, and I will hasten to make 
 amends. I have established myself as a stu- 
 dent at the leading University of the country. 
 I reasoned that I should thus come into touch 
 most directly with their best minds, but of 
 this I am beginning to be doubtful. I am 
 
 12 
 
r THE LETTEES "1 
 L OP DIOCLES J 
 
 giving my attention primarily to their 
 presentation of mathematics and morality, — 
 the mathematics, to the end of discovering 
 the scope of their mental power and methods 
 of thought; the morality, for ascertaining 
 how far they have been able to make use of 
 the truth they have in the adjusting of their 
 human relations. 
 
 I live very frugally in the outskirts of the 
 college town. Do not remonstrate, dear wife. 
 This is not a matter of choice, but of neces- 
 sity, for the worth of a man has but little 
 value here; his wealth is what counts, — not 
 what he is, but what he has. This condition 
 arises, of course, from the uncertainty of 
 life. It is a matter of expediency for the 
 creatures of this shifting world to husband 
 their resources against a future need. The 
 desire for accumulating which has thus been 
 engendered has come to supersede all other 
 interests, and has reduced all evaluation to 
 a monetary basis. I can hardly expect you 
 to follow this, so foreign is it to our concep- 
 tions of the things that are worth while. But 
 of all the evil to which it has led, it would 
 take volumes to tell. A man. sells his labor, 
 his thought, his very life, for money. He 
 marries for it, and its disposal is his last will 
 and testament. Such fools! What is it, 
 dear? * * * 
 
 13 
 
AS-IF 
 
 You are right, — I should be more char- 
 itable. Perhaps when they have gone their 
 way through as many worlds as we, they too 
 will have learned the wisdom of spiritual 
 possessions. Indeed, so cramped are they 
 by their space-form that it would seem the 
 Mortals might welcome any blow, even death 
 itself, that would free them from its matrix. 
 
 Acting on the above hint, I have 
 discovered, on inquiring at the 
 University, an eccentric student, a 
 Mr. P., who may possibly be the 
 person sending the messages and 
 calling himself Diodes. One 
 would take this man to be a Rus- 
 sian or a Hungarian of about 
 forty. Because of his persistent 
 allusions to another world, his fel- 
 low students have nicknamed him 
 that "Sky -gat from Mars." Mr. 
 P. is a large man of distinguished 
 appearance, notwithstanding his 
 rusty black suit of foreign cut, 
 and long black whiskers. He al- 
 ways carries a great armful of 
 books, and goes in haste as if 
 intent upon some purpose of vital 
 import. It is said by the students 
 that his candle burns most of the 
 
 14 
 
rTHE LETTEES 1 
 OF DIOCLES J 
 
 night. Although he is gentle and 
 courteous in his bearing toward 
 the professors, they snub him 
 most cruelly. It is Mnted that 
 they are unable to answer his 
 questions or to follow his thought. 
 Those in a position to know best, 
 fear that Mr. P. nearly starves, as 
 his only means of subsistence is a 
 stipend which he receives as 
 reader of mathematical papers. 
 The fellow is doubtless half-crazed 
 but one would never guess it to 
 look into his clear blue eyes, which 
 seem to gaze into one y s very soul. 
 Of course, it is impossible for a 
 scientific man like myself to be- 
 lieve that this person is a being 
 from another world with which he 
 is still in communication, and yet 
 — who knows? c. b. 
 
 But I forget, dear, that I am telling you 
 of myself. You will be surprised that such a 
 well-balanced person, as you deem your hus- 
 band, should be thought erratic, but I sus- 
 pect that this is how I am regarded by my 
 acquaintances of this world. I have heard 
 them say, "Oh, a bright fellow, but a little 
 queer"; and they tap their foreheads and 
 
 15 
 
AS-IF 
 
 add, "Not quite all here, don't you know." 
 And no wonder, for I must appear of a some- 
 what fragmentary nature, since only a small 
 part of me can be visible to them at one time. 
 Their space-form, you see, can no more com- 
 pass a creature of my dimensional make-up 
 than a plane can take in a sphere. The only 
 unfortunate thing about this is that I shall 
 find it more difficult to be of assistance. But 
 they will trust me when they see that I under- 
 stand them ; and in this I have, of course, the 
 advantage of the intuition coming from a 
 sense of higher dimensions. 
 
 There is very little true friendship or 
 sympathy here, for want of just that intuition 
 and the insight that goes with it. Do you 
 know, Agnesi, love, I sometimes wonder if 
 most misunderstandings are not due to a dif- 
 ference in spacing. Two persons could easily 
 think that they were talking about the same 
 configuration and have nothing but words in 
 common. This might go undiscovered for a 
 long time, yet some day there must come a 
 radical variation, and through no fault of 
 either, but simply because of unlike curva- 
 ture. 
 
 My one diversion — and I while away many 
 a lonely hour thus — is reading the records 
 left by others of our world who have so- 
 journed here at one time or another. The 
 
 16 
 
r THE LETTEES 1 
 L OF DIOCLES J 
 
 Mortals have these records collected and 
 carefully catalogued in what they call li- 
 braries. But while they are very willing, even 
 eager, to give honor to these beings of larger 
 vision than their own, there are many of them, 
 I find, whom they have failed to recognize. 
 This is not surprising, for so uncertain is 
 their power of discernment when it comes to 
 the question of a man's worth, that they find 
 it safest to postpone judgment until he has 
 passed on his way (that is, after what they 
 call his death), in order to get a better per- 
 spective. This visual difficulty is one hard 
 for us to appreciate, since we consider a per- 
 son's immediate associates the most favor- 
 ably placed for seeing his points, good and 
 bad. But to their credit, be it said, once as- 
 sured of a man's superiority, they never cease 
 to do homage to his memory. And so con- 
 cerned are they to learn just what others 
 have thought, that they forget to think for 
 themselves. Herein, I suspect, lies the reason 
 of their inability to get at the truth. 
 
 Nor do they educate for power. A child 
 is not trained to think for himself, but to re- 
 produce the thoughts of others. In conse- 
 quence, each generation makes very little 
 advance upon the last preceding one. This, 
 however, gives them no concern, for they 
 honestly believe that the human mind is now 
 
 17 
 
AS-IF 
 
 at its highest point. I find both professors 
 and students at the University reluctant to 
 speak without authority; indeed, if you have 
 the hardihood to do so, you are immediately 
 asked to give references. Every document, 
 to be accepted, must be accompanied with the 
 proper bibliography. Thus do they strive in 
 their thought-realm for the stability they 
 miss in the material one. Education adds 
 but to a man's acquisitions, not to his devel- 
 opment. This being so, they have found it 
 necessary to label their educated with certain 
 insignia, called degrees, so that they may be 
 distinguished from the uneducated. 
 
 Yet for all their stupidity you would like 
 these people, Agnesi, for they have a most 
 delightful fun. For instance, they define ed- 
 ucation as what is left after a person has for- 
 gotten all he has learned, and character as a 
 by-product of the process ! Given this divine 
 sense of humor, the situation surely can be 
 saved, and it is manifestly my work to put 
 these half-seas-over creatures upon their 
 legs. And no easy task is it going to be, I 
 assure you. I thought at first that I had only 
 to explain the matter clearly to the mathe- 
 maticians and they would know how to make 
 the corrections necessary to meet existing 
 conditions. But when I so much as speak of 
 a fourth dimension they look askance. 
 
 18 
 
[THE LETTEES "1 
 OF DIOCLES J 
 
 "Why, yes, it is an element of abstract 
 analysis, very interesting in a speculative 
 way. ' ' 
 
 To be sure, one of their philosophers did 
 confide to me that he had questioned if there 
 is not a growing physical perception of it, as 
 evidenced by the standing of hair on end 
 and the phenomenon of goose-flesh! 
 
 All this sounds very strange to you, I 
 know. But take into consideration, dear Ag- 
 nesi, that the very space-form is prohibitive 
 of clear thinking. Indeed, I fear that unless 
 I hasten on, I too shall succumb to its lim- 
 itations. Many an Immortal, I find, has lost 
 his vision because of its restricted view. 
 That I have retained mine thus long is ascrib- 
 able, I suspect, to my looking skyward as 
 frequently as I do. The Mortals wonder at 
 this habit of mine, for they do not see you, 
 my star that shines so true. * * * 
 Strange, but Browning had the same exper- 
 ience. By the way, I forgot to tell you, dear, 
 that he and Elizabeth were here together for 
 a time before entering our sphere. You re- 
 member they always insisted they had known 
 each other in some previous life, which certi- 
 tude we set down to poetic sentiment. I must 
 say, Eobert got at the mathematics of the 
 situation pretty well — for a poet. He tells 
 how, out of three sounds, not a fourth, but a 
 
 19 
 
AS-IF 
 
 star is created, and adds significantly that 
 he knows not, save in this, such power be 
 given to man. Wouldn't you have thought 
 that hint enough to make them look beneath 
 quality for a dimensional difference? But 
 this obtuseness is a natural result of empha- 
 sizing fact over method. 
 
 Do you know, Agnesi, I am bothered about 
 that eleventh dimension. May it not be at 
 hand in some sense-perception which we are 
 wont to regard as color, or harmony, per- 
 chance f The thought troubles me. 
 
 But to return to the Mortals : As a conse- 
 quence of their lack of mental receptivity, 
 conversation in any intellectual sense is 
 utterly unknown among them. Each person 
 talks apparently to hear himself, for no one 
 listens to another. It may be because their 
 knowledge is so hardly won that the Mortals 
 hasten to erect walls about any truth they 
 chance to discover. You will be talking to a 
 man who gives every indication of having 
 sensibility and mental power, when all at once 
 you find yourself alone in your thought. He 
 has struck a mental barrier. Nor is he willing 
 that you should help- him surmount it, since 
 he strangely considers his limitations funda- 
 mental to his individuality. It is thus that 
 the ego seeks to preserve its identity in this 
 flux of things. Indeed, a broad understand- 
 
 20 
 
CTHE LETTERS 1 
 OF DIOCLES J 
 
 ing is physically impossible; each individual 
 clings in sheer desperation to his own special 
 rock of knowledge, fearful of being swept 
 away by the great tidal wave of uncertainty. 
 But if I do not bring this letter to a close 
 I shall have both you and myself likewise 
 imperiled. So good-bye, sweetheart mine. 
 Lovingly, 
 
 Diocles. 
 
 The vibrations were sufficiently 
 distinct to make it evident that 
 there was an answer, but still too 
 faint for me to tell what. c. b. 
 
 Dear Sweetheart: 
 
 You are trying to reach me, but your 
 words are lost in the void. I wonder if it 
 would help you if I were to anticipate what 
 you would say. It is all-important that the 
 receiving instrument should be adjusted to 
 the transmitting one. The overlooking of 
 this scientific fact no doubt accounts for the 
 little thought-connection existing even today 
 between worlds. 
 
 Now to your message. I wonder if I can 
 get it — I was never so intuitive as you, my 
 love. But going at it as a psychological 
 study, I think my idealistic wife would ques- 
 tion first of all: 
 
 21 
 
AS-IF 
 
 "How can a dimension unknown, and in 
 an incipient stage at that, affect a mind that 
 does not desire its existence ?" 
 
 Come, didn't I guess aright! Now don't 
 you hear me shout : 
 
 1 l Can I never get you to see that the outer 
 world conditions the inner one?" 
 
 Let me think — what will you say now? 
 Oh, yes, something of course about thought 
 determining the form of experience. And I 
 answer condescendingly from the heights of 
 my superior masculine intellect: 
 
 "Certainly, but the form only, for the 
 mind must have material wherewith to work 
 its creation, and this it perforce finds in sen- 
 sation.' ' * * * 
 
 Did you speak, Agnesi? I heard so 
 clearly : 
 
 "There is no sensation surely without 
 perception." 
 
 Yes, you said that — or was it my subcon- 
 scious self? Well, let that be as it may, I will 
 answer : 
 
 "Very true, dear one, and for that reason 
 the outer world does not wait until the inner 
 one is ready to receive it, but bombards the 
 mind until it gets the recognition that it must 
 have to become reality. There is no doubt 
 much in the sentient realm that knocks in vain 
 at the door of thought for existence. For 
 22 
 
[ 
 
 THE LETTEES 
 OF DIOCLES 
 
 instance, out of the infinite number of rates 
 of ether vibrations we perceive but the few 
 that we interpret as light or heat or electric- 
 ity, while all the others go unheeded, although 
 doubtless as varied and as different as these. 
 But mind, dear, this is not saying that they 
 will never be perceived. Things jar and 
 jangle on our nerves until they force their 
 way into our system of being, and sooner or 
 later we find it convenient to ascribe certain 
 sensations to them, for it is only thus that 
 we may free ourselves of their importunity.' ' 
 
 Are you listening, Agnesi? I beg your 
 pardon. I forgot that I was trying to get a 
 message from you, not to send you 
 one. * * * 
 
 All is quiet. You have despaired of mak- 
 ing me hear. Ay, surely it is a greater art 
 to be able to hear the truth than to speak it, 
 and that art I have not learned. 
 
 But to the work ; in that only may I find 
 relief from this terrible loneliness. 
 With loving thought, 
 
 Youe Husband. 
 
 After a lapse of many days came 
 this communication, - c. b. 
 
 Deaeest Agnesi: 
 
 So absorbed have I been in the cor- 
 rections essential to my problem, that for the 
 time being I forgot even you, my love. But I 
 
 23 
 
AS-IF 
 
 know you will forgive me as you used of old 
 when I became thus obsessed. What a sweet, 
 helpful companion you were, a constant 
 source of inspiration ! Ah, dear one, it is for 
 just the lack of that life-giving force that my 
 thought is now barren of all results. 
 
 It would seem an easy matter to bring 
 about an adjustment between logic and space- 
 perception. But not so in this case, for while 
 the Mortals are getting where they might do 
 some thinking, they are losing what promise 
 they had for independent thought because of 
 a compounding of consciousness. As I have 
 told you, the oncoming of the fourth dimen- 
 sion gives to their outer world a fearsome 
 quality. This may be likened to the feeling of 
 ominous expectancy presaging an earthquake. 
 Not only the people, but the animals as well, 
 dislike to be alone; in consequence the ten- 
 dency towards gregariousness is becoming 
 more and more powerful, and, leading as it 
 does to a crowd mind, must inevitably retard 
 the evolution of the individual mind. As 
 evidence of this, the Mortals are rapidly com- 
 ing to base their ethics upon the social im- 
 pulse; and their religion glorifies it. 
 
 Naturally, women, from their constitution, 
 suffer more than men from the sense of im- 
 pending danger, and for that reason are 
 thought to be more spiritual. And because 
 24 
 
[" THE LETTEES "1 
 L OF DIOCLES J 
 
 insight has not risen above the emotional, it 
 follows, of course, that instinct is exalted 
 above reason. All sorts of cults and beliefs 
 have sprung up, embodying every possible 
 inconsistency of thought. These are inter- 
 woven with a strange, false morality, from 
 which comes much suffering. 
 
 Well, you may wonder what the fourth 
 dimension has to do with this, but the explan- 
 ation is simple. Since the intervening 
 medium cannot be trusted to be true to its 
 own order and sequences, it has been found 
 necessary to introduce an arbitrary element 
 of some sort. These elements are held sacred 
 under the name of duties. So fearful are the 
 Mortals of drifting with the tide of human 
 nature, that they set themselves to row 
 against its current, and hence never learn 
 how far they might go if they were to row 
 with it. Indeed, to get that against which he 
 can measure his purpose, a Mortal makes at 
 every turn a handicap of his own nature. 
 One is reminded of children playing they are 
 lame and blind, and making great heroism of 
 the affliction. Moreover, with all material 
 things in flux, it has beconie necessary to 
 crystallize thought and institutions to get the 
 necessary basis for action. So these are re- 
 tained even though they may have become an 
 evil. The segregation into groups according 
 
 25 
 
AS-IF 
 
 to kind has brought about much division, with 
 its attendant animosity. Divers spirits 
 struggle with one another for dominance. 
 Individuals are the puppets of forces they 
 know not. 
 
 These people have, indeed, fallen upon evil 
 days. And to think that all that is needed to 
 right the wrongs of their world is a slight 
 mathematical correction in their interpreta- 
 tion of given elements! Pray, dear Agnesi, 
 that I may discover the way to make it. 
 
 For the time being, a fond adieu. 
 
 Diocles. 
 
 After a long wait came the follow- 
 ing, c. B. 
 
 Deaeest : 
 
 The problem becomes more baffling 
 as I study it. I fear that there is no help for 
 these victims of their own thought. But 
 wherefore this descent of mine into the abyss 
 of being if it is not to show them the way 
 hence? I must not falter; there is a solution 
 surely. 
 
 Agnesi, my loved one, how far away you 
 are ! No, no, that is not so ; I am not thinking 
 true. Your beautiful soul is always with me ; 
 its radiance suffuses my whole existence. So 
 much of you as was mine, is mine forever. 
 How dark it is growing! I am losing my 
 26 
 
[ 
 
 THE LETTERS 
 OF DIOCLES 
 
 vision. Where are you, Agnesi, my star? I 
 thought I saw you but now, and they tell me 
 that what I saw was Saturn. 
 
 How close it is ! My head is throbbing to 
 burst. There is no room, — I cannot think. 
 Oh, the problem, the problem! Can I never 
 solve it? The walls of many dimensions are 
 forming. The space is closing in on me as did 
 those dungeons of old upon their miserable 
 prisoners. Do you see that great black wall? 
 I must be in the purgatory of ancient belief. 
 Oh, my angel, save me, I implore you! 
 # # # you are telling me, Agnesi, that 
 this is a dream, a nightmare. No, no, it is the 
 reality. 
 
 The newspaper this morning tells 
 a pitiful tale of a student who has 
 become violently insane from over- 
 study and deprivation. His de- 
 lusion, it is said, is of a form quite 
 unknown to alienists. The poor 
 fellow imagines himself to have 
 come from some other world of 
 higher dimension. So violent is 
 his malady that before he could be 
 brought under restraint he had all 
 but demolished the walls of his 
 poor dwelling in his effort to es- 
 cape the restrictions of their di- 
 ll 
 
AS-IF 
 
 mensions. The case is a warning, 
 the writer adds, against the advis- 
 ability of mathematical speculation 
 beyond practical purposes. I 
 have no doubt that Mr. P. is the 
 student in question, although I 
 have been unable to ascertain for a 
 certainty. c. b. 
 
 There was no distinct record 
 for many days, although the in- 
 strument showed a great perturba- 
 tion due to etheric waves from 
 without our sphere; then the fol- 
 lowing was received. c. b. 
 
 How beautiful your voice is, love ! I hear 
 it so clearly, bidding me to think true! 
 * * * There, I have passed the loop; 
 my course is once more in the ascendant. I 
 am about to enter the eleventh dimension. 
 The meaning of this mortal agony of mine 
 is now clear ; I came hither to learn the lesson 
 I missed when I first passed over this part of 
 my life's course; so that by thus experienc- 
 ing the lower world, I might attain to a 
 higher. 
 
 Ah, Agnesi, we were more blind than these 
 people of three dimensions, for greater is 
 the outlook which we failed to use. The soul 
 comes to its full expression through a series 
 
 28 
 
r THE LETTEES "I 
 L OF DIOCLES J 
 
 of space-lives. As it climbs it throws off one 
 after another of these empirical vestitures. 
 The dislocation that the ego suffers with each 
 transition is necessary for its adjustment to 
 a new form. For the right understanding 
 of it all, there must be a review from time 
 to time. If it were not so, the sequence would 
 lack co-ordination and unity. 
 
 The struggle and turmoil of the Mortals 
 has become invested with a profound mean- 
 ing for me. The realm of externality is al- 
 ways in the process of evolution, as is the 
 internal world of one's conscious life. The 
 development of the two are mutually de- 
 pendent. The spiritual life is to be found 
 through an ever-higher outreaching. The sin 
 of sins is in assuming that one has reached 
 the goal. That sin was mine, the sin of self- 
 satisfaction. But my ignorance is now re- 
 deemed; I go to a better world. There in 
 good time I shall find you, my love. Until 
 then, good-bye. 
 
 Your triumphant 
 
 Diocles. 
 
 This ended the messages. The 
 reader will form his ~own con- 
 clusions, c. B. 
 
 29 
 
J 
 
BOOK II 
 
 THE JOURNAL OF AGNESI, 
 
 WIFE OF DIOCLES; TELLING OF 
 
 HER LIFE AFTER LEAVING THE 
 
 WORLD OF TEN DIMENSIONS, 
 
 AND HOW IT CHANCED 
 
 THAT THIS JOURNAL 
 
 APPEARS HERE 
 
BOOK I I 
 
 A FTER the Great Interregnum.— How 
 /^L long I was lost to myself or what 
 / ^ transpired in the meantime, I do 
 JL. JL not know. When next I came to 
 a consciousness of personal identity, I was 
 like one suddenly aroused from a profound 
 sleep. There was that same sense of de- 
 tachment, with the effort to place oneself. 
 This was followed by a feeling of great ex- 
 hilaration, as if there were things to do and 
 the power to do them. But who was I, and 
 where? My consciousness was failing to tell 
 me. In vain did I question my surroundings ; 
 they were quite unfamiliar. I was in a room 
 which somewhat resembled a museum with 
 its clutter of objects in great variety. Before 
 me on a table lay sheets of manuscript. The 
 pen dropped carelessly to one side, and my 
 posture went to indicate that I had been 
 writing. I perceived all this, but not through 
 my senses, for my physical self seemed to be 
 a thing apart from me, or rather outside of 
 me — a sort of watch-tower in which I sat in 
 contemplation. Suddenly a voice cried: 
 
 "Can I do it?" 
 
 "Of course," I answered with great ear- 
 nestness. Why I did so I do not know, unless 
 in response to my own longing for achieve- 
 ment. 
 
 33 
 
AS-IF 
 
 "Oh, if I could !" came the same voice, 
 this time nearer, and a tremor of eager 
 expectancy passed through me. Slowly it 
 dawned on me that the woman sitting at the 
 table was my outer self. As I came to this 
 realization she arose and, snatching up the 
 papers, cried: 
 
 "How foolish! Whatever possessed 
 me!" Addressing herself, "You write a 
 novel, Mary James? What do you know of 
 life and love?" Contemptuously, "Why, 
 don't you know that you belong to the non- 
 sexed class of women whose function it is to 
 administer to the welfare of the socius? Go 
 to your books; nothing but books for you, 
 and the everlasting teaching. Life with its 
 natural joys and sorrows you must exper- 
 ience vicariously — a mere brick in the social 
 structure." With much passion, "Oh, my 
 colorless existence !" 
 
 I tried to calm her, but in vain. She con- 
 tinued ironically, "You are a very able 
 woman, Miss James ; every one respects you 
 and recognizes your ability. What more do 
 you want? Besides, think of the good that 
 you do ! ' ' 
 
 With that she threw herself on the couch 
 in a paroxysm of weeping. This gave me 
 time to take in the situation. Here I was, 
 apparently shut up within a strange woman 
 
 34 
 
r THE JOUENAL 1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 who was suffering some unusual emotion, 
 possibly on account of my presence. Surely 
 it must be a dream, Then came a horrible 
 thought. Perhaps I was undergoing disin- 
 tegration, and certain subconscious elements 
 of my being were for the first time asserting 
 themselves. At the best, I reflected, it must 
 be a case of divided personality. How was I 
 to unify my various selves 1 Thus I went on 
 wondering vaguely. Then all in a moment 
 I knew that I was being reincarnated, and 
 this was the ordeal of trying on a new body. 
 "What if it should be a misfit V 9 was my 
 next concern. The body seemed to be having 
 a hard time of it, and I felt queerish, to say 
 the least. But I reasoned with myself that I 
 had always been able somehow to make my 
 clothes look as if they belonged to me, and 
 surely I could adjust to my personality so 
 intimate a thing as a body. 
 
 My interest in Mary now took on a per- 
 sonal quality. I began to cast about for her 
 possibilities. She appeared to be a fine speci- 
 men of womanhood, strong and efficient, and 
 evidently well educated. I might have done 
 worse. I would make of her the woman of 
 my dreams. She would be my ideal realized. 
 My soul should have its long-desired mani- 
 festation. With this thought came the ex- 
 planation of the sudden emotional storm that 
 
 35 
 
AS-IF 
 
 I had witnessed. I was the soul to the ex- 
 istence of which she was just awakening and 
 my coming was troubling the depths of her 
 physical being. Then came a fear that if I 
 did not act quickly she would perhaps fall 
 into a sleep again from which I might never 
 rouse her. The salvation of both of us, I 
 felt, lay in our quick recognition of each 
 other. 
 
 1 ' Mary, ' ' I cried, ' ' I am your soul ! I have 
 come to bring you a happier, richer life. ,, 
 
 But she did not heed me. 
 
 "Let me live in you," I implored, "and 
 I will inspire you to great things. Together 
 we shall work for a larger knowledge, a 
 deeper experience." Thus did I plead, but 
 she was deaf to my words. My agony be- 
 came unbearable. I felt that I should soon be- 
 come extinguished, like to a flame that is shut 
 in from the air, if I could not get into touch 
 with an outer world. I realized in that mo- 
 ment how essential expression is to life — that 
 we really live to the extent only that we are 
 able to manifest ourselves. I looked about 
 for some point of contact as a basis of appeal, 
 but we two seemed to belong to utterly alien 
 worlds. Finally my eye fell on the manu- 
 script. I happened to remember the inborn 
 love that all persons have for that. I whis- 
 pered to her of it, breathing words of hope, 
 
 36 
 
r THE JOURNAL 1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 and after a time she stirred as if in response. 
 While she did not speak, I somehow knew her 
 thought. She questioned as of herself: 
 
 "How can I write? I am not trained for 
 it, nor have I genius." 
 
 And I answered as to myself: 
 
 "Mary, you have both intellect and soul. 
 From the union of the two will come genius." 
 
 When I had said this, I was moved as with 
 a great purpose ; whereupon Mary sprang up, 
 seized her pen and went to work. For some 
 lines I followed her words mechanically, not 
 getting their import; then in a flash came a 
 recollection of our life, yours and mine, my 
 beloved Diodes, in that world which was ours 
 before you went away, dear husband, to your 
 present star. There it was, all before me, 
 — the memories of our beautiful companion- 
 ship. Until that moment I had experienced 
 no recollection of the past; but, as I read, 
 how clearly did it all come back to me ! 
 
 When I was told, dear one, that you were 
 to leave me, my despair was unspeakable. 
 I had somehow taken it for granted that 
 when the time came we should go together; 
 hence the shock was greater than I could well 
 bear. In my rebellion I declared that I would 
 go too; that I could not live without you. 
 Our friends tried to make me see that life 
 still held much for me; whereas your 
 
 37 
 
ASIF 
 
 progress, they said, required a larger unfold- 
 ment, a new domain of experience. And I 
 knew — what their kind hearts would not let 
 them say — that I was not prepared to go, 
 for my lessons were not done. You can not 
 well conceive the state of remorse into which 
 I was plunged. We were to be parted for all 
 eternity because I had not kept pace with you. 
 Not only had I failed in the best for myself, 
 but I had failed in my duty to you, my hus- 
 band. Oh, you can never know the bitter- 
 ness of that thought to my soul! 
 
 But suffering is illuminating. Through 
 it I came by degrees to know that the object 
 of life is growth, — not happiness, as I had 
 supposed. Our love was remiss, Diodes. It 
 should have visioned a greater perfection; 
 instead, you were pleased with me just as I 
 was, and I had no ideal beyond you. So I 
 lived my life in yours, thinking only of your 
 achievement, never dreaming of doing things 
 myself. Although I studied, it was for the 
 pleasure I got from the knowledge, not for 
 the work to be done with it ; and there can be 
 no growth aside from work, dear one. 
 
 This sorrow had to come that I might learn 
 that truth. While those were days of sad 
 regret, they were days of great resolve also. 
 It was then I determined to become a teacher 
 of mathematics, that I might measure up to 
 
 38 
 
[THE JOUENAL 1 
 OF AGNESI J 
 
 your thought. I hoped, by laboring unceas- 
 ingly, to overtake you before you had passed 
 through many worlds. But the lack of early 
 training in the subject was not easily over- 
 come. My advance seemed to me slow, al- 
 though others called it phenomenal. As I 
 studied, I imagined myself closer to you. My 
 dreams assumed the form of communications 
 from you about a strange, weird world that 
 you had found. Finally, one day, I heard 
 your voice calling to me for help. Then it 
 was that I broke the bonds holding me and 
 started into the great unknown in quest of 
 you, my love. 
 
 Shall I find you ? Ah, yes, surely ! As the 
 magnet draws the iron, so will our need of 
 each other bring us together. 
 
 I look forward with a joy almost childish 
 to this existence into which I am being born, 
 as it were. Now I shall know what it is to 
 do real work, — world's work, not the mere 
 woman's work of simply making a happy 
 home. Oh, my husband, how could I ever 
 have been so blind as to think that life is 
 made up of little things, when there are so 
 many great things to be done! 
 
 As yet I have not seen much of this — 
 my new — world. Mary keeps me concealed 
 in the innermost recesses of her being. Hav- 
 
 39 
 
AS-IF 
 
 ing created me, as she thinks, with her pen, 
 it is quite natural that she should look upon 
 me as a figment of her imagination, — and the 
 imagination, it would seem, is tabooed in this 
 intensely rationalistic world wherein I am 
 come. 
 
 I am able to reach the level of her con- 
 sciousness only when she is writing, as now. 
 But she seems fearful of yielding to even 
 so innocent an impulse of her personality 
 as this for expression, questioning if it is 
 wise and practical to give way to it. I urge 
 that only thus can she know what forces are 
 hidden within her, and that unless she gives 
 these inner elements an opportunity to come 
 forth and compete for a place in conscious- 
 ness, she may miss the richer part of her 
 heritage. 
 
 Mary's was a buoyant step because of my 
 delight that first morning as I accompanied 
 her to school. She wondered at herself that 
 she felt such sudden exuberance of spirit. 
 But so carefully did she keep me shut in 
 that I could only divine the things taking 
 place about me. As we passed over the ferry 
 in the early morning hours, a great symphony 
 of pipes and bugles burst forth, a prelude, I 
 supposed, to the day's work. I noticed, how- 
 ever, that Mary shuddered, and as we walked 
 up the street I saw that this I had taken for 
 
 40 
 
 
r THE JOURNAL "I 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 a pean of joy was the signal for the opening 
 of some great prison house. There was much 
 clanking of chains, and every person who 
 passed seemed to be dragging a heavy weight 
 after him. I questioned Mary about it, but 
 she evidently did not understand what I was 
 asking, for she muttered something about a 
 big industrial system. 
 
 My wonderment was to grow when we en- 
 tered the schoolroom, for where I had ex- 
 pected to see children was a great beast of 
 indefinite outline and motley color resembling 
 a dragon. I would have fled affrighted, but 
 Mary, after a few words of exorcism, pro- 
 ceeded in the most matter-of-fact way to drill 
 the creature in the theorems of geometry! 
 Over and over again the same phrases were 
 mumbled in endless repetition by its many 
 mouths. Greatly did I marvel at her pa- 
 tience in endeavoring to mold this hetero- 
 geneous organism into some coherency of 
 thought and action. And what power the 
 woman displayed; not only did she hold in 
 subjection one eye, but a hundred eyes ! At 
 times the creature seemed tractable and open 
 to suggestion for noble purpose, but in a 
 moment it became black and glowering if 
 crossed in any way. While it was quick to 
 see things and receive impressions, it could 
 do little reasoning of itself. I learned later 
 
 41 
 
AS-IF 
 
 that its memory faculties were also very 
 
 feeble, notwithstanding the unceasing drill. 
 
 Finally a bell rang, and the dragon rose, 
 swayed to and fro, — then rushed from the 
 room with the sound of countless feet. I 
 had just breathed a sigh of relief, when in 
 came sprawling another beast like unto the 
 first, and called Class B; and all day long 
 did Mary train these monsters in mathe- 
 matics, — for what purpose I have yet to 
 learn. But I suspect it has something to 
 do with duty. By the way, Diodes, Mary 
 has the strangest vocabulary! It is made 
 up of such words as duty, discipline, sup- 
 press, restrain, conventional, customary, 
 practicable, desirable, and many others of 
 like kind — a vocabulary well designed to 
 destroy personality. How is one to account, 
 do you suppose, for such a strange method 
 of self -delimitation? Surely no people can 
 be so obtuse as not to have discovered the 
 connection between language and mental de- 
 velopment, and particularly this people who 
 put such emphasis on casual relations. 
 
 I realize that I have much to learn of 
 Mary's world before I can understand Mary, 
 for it is very difficult to say just where the 
 boundary lies between the woman and her 
 psychic milieu. She may very well think 
 herself the resultant of forces determined by 
 
 42 
 
r THE JOURNAL 1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 heredity and environment. She is certainly 
 bound hard and fast by a chain of necessity 
 whose links grate most cruelly on the fiber 
 of her real self. Life, as Mary lives it, is a 
 purely practical one, devoid of all natural 
 spontaneity and joy. Her thought does not 
 come from the deeper centers of her being, 
 but is superimposed on her from without. 
 What wonder that I find it difficult to under- 
 stand her ! And because of my failure to do 
 so, she is lacking in emotion and in the insight 
 that goes with it. Indeed, Diodes, I some- 
 times fear that Mary is in her present state 
 because I am not functioning as a soul ought. 
 Perhaps I should have come earlier to her; 
 or can it be that I was not prepared to become 
 a soul? You know, dear one, I hastened my 
 departure from that phase of self -manifesta- 
 tion which you and I had in common. I truly 
 believed at the time that my love for you was 
 sufficient justification for thus taking, as 
 Mary would express it, my own life, but it 
 may be that I was forcing my development, 
 and for that reason must abide a time in 
 purgatory before finding a spiritual heaven. 
 
 It is some days since the^ last was written, 
 — Mary has been so occupied with her outer 
 life that I have been unable to get her atten- 
 tion. In its ceaseless activity there is no time 
 
 43 
 

 ASIF 
 
 for communication with an inner self, how- 
 ever pressing its needs. The monster-drill 
 goes on each day with deadening regularity. 
 My perplexity grows with my knowledge of it. 
 It seems that these dragon-schools are in the 
 service of a cult called Democracy, having for 
 its principal tenet that all men should be 
 created equal. Inasmuch as they are not, its 
 propaganda is to make them so by the elimi- 
 nation of such qualities as are not held in 
 common. Now the best device that has been 
 found for doing this effectively and without 
 the entailing of too much suffering is the 
 dragon-school. The process is one of gradual 
 absorption, which renders abortive the ex- 
 ceptional quality. So that, if a person has 
 been properly schooled, he differs in no way 
 from his fellows. To make certain of the 
 process, it is desirable that a child should be 
 placed in a class-dragon when as young as 
 possible. It is not surprising that many peo- 
 ple find themselves lost after leaving these 
 school-dragons, and seek voluntarily to come 
 under some other dragon. Fortunately there 
 are many of these, variously denominated 
 fraternal orders, clubs, societies, all effective 
 in keeping down sprouting propensities. This 
 is well, as they see it, although so opposed to 
 our ideas of what makes for individualism, 
 without which, as we think, there can be no 
 
 44 
 
r THE JOUENAL "1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 true socialization. But Democracy holds that 
 stupidity is the best safeguard of a nation, 
 since it preserves steadiness of conduct and 
 consistency of opinion. As one writer puts 
 it, "The surest guarantee that a person will 
 do his duty is that he should not know any- 
 thing else to do; that he should hold to his 
 own view, is that he should not be able to 
 comprehend the other man's." In such wise 
 does Democracy purpose to form the bricks 
 of the social structure that it would erect. 
 
 But to return to the dragons. Because of 
 their great service to the common weal, they 
 are looked upon, as well-nigh sacred. The 
 teachers serve in the capacity of vestal vir- 
 gins, to keep alight the fires on their altars. 
 I have learned that for this high office a young 
 women is required to forego marriage and 
 motherhood. Think of it ! But even so, there 
 are more novitiates than the service demands. 
 
 How very strange that my desire for a 
 larger self-expression should have resulted in 
 a mode of manifestation so utterly different 
 from anything I had ever conceived! It is 
 difficult for me to reconcile this with my 
 philosophy that our thought determines the 
 form of our particular, individual world. I 
 have not forgotten, dear Diodes, that you 
 always maintained that life is conditioned 
 entirely by physical attractions and re- 
 
 45 
 
ASIF 
 
 pulsions. It would almost seem that you 
 were right, but I do hate to think we are 
 mere creatures of our environment. That is 
 what Mary reasons she is, but I know that 
 she is something more, inasmuch as my con- 
 sciousness transcends hers. 
 
 Shortly since, in the morning of a day that 
 is here called the Sabbath, Mary said on ris- 
 ing that she suspected, for the good of her 
 soul, she had better go to church. While I 
 did not understand the connection, I was 
 pleased to receive thus much of recognition, 
 and fell to wondering if there was a spot 
 particularly designed for souls. If so, — oh, 
 happy thought ! — perhaps I was about to find 
 you, my beloved. Notwithstanding my eager- 
 ness to set off, Mary spent several hours, 
 quite oblivious of things spiritual, in dressing 
 herself according to the dictates of Fashion, 
 a dragon, it would appear, of universal sway, 
 for his will is most assiduously studied by 
 all, both young and old, great and otherwise. 
 Indeed, no one dares to violate the slightest 
 decree of this god, Fashion, whose every 
 whim is law. 
 
 I was concerned several times before the 
 preparations were finished that we might not 
 be able to go to the Place of Souls. The 
 first time was when Mary discovered that 
 
 46 
 
r THE JOURNAL ~] 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 her hat was not in season, as she phrased it, 
 but happily she was able to save the situa- 
 tion by bunching some artificial flowers in a 
 peculiar way on one side. Then again I was 
 filled with consternation when it was found 
 that her gloves were not quite the correct 
 shade, and other things which I shall not 
 trouble to mention. At last we were safely, 
 though tardily, on our way to the church, 
 toward which many others, no doubt belated 
 for similar reasons, were hastening. 
 
 I looked anxiously for another soul, but 
 failed to see one. Most of the people we 
 met seemed sad and weary, and at first I 
 could not imagine them possessed of souls. 
 I bethought myself soon, however, that Mary 
 looked the same, although I was glowing and 
 passionate within her. Then I divined a 
 beautiful, flaming spirit back of each hungry 
 face. But my joy thereat was quickly turned 
 to awe, for as we entered the sacred precinct 
 I felt the enveloping presence of a dragon 
 more fearsome than any, I had previously 
 beheld. The worship was of the nature of 
 an appeasement to this powerful deity who 
 holds all in thrall. Try as I might, however, 
 I could feel no sense of communication with 
 a Supreme Spirit. While my passive attitude 
 seemed to trouble Mary, it was only in an 
 intellectual way. There are certain states of 
 
 47 
 
AS-IF 
 
 emotion, it seems, that one should experience 
 at given times, and this was one of the occa- 
 sions ; so she knew something was wrong, but 
 just what, she could not tell, unless it was 
 that she was losing her faith. I was sorry 
 to give her so much uneasiness, but I could 
 not feign a state which I did not feel. 
 
 It is manifest that these people do not 
 find satisfaction in their practical life ; hence 
 they seek to create for themselves a higher 
 one, but this as a separate thing and not 
 in self-realization. In their desire to attain 
 something better, they have lost the value 
 of what is in their possession. Indeed, so 
 eager have they been to create beyond them- 
 selves, that they have not thought to see that 
 what they create is good; as a result, their 
 world has become ruled by demons as well as 
 by gods. Through a process of selection one 
 of the latter has come in the course of time 
 to be considered absolute. Their religion 
 deals with their relation to this God, which 
 is of their own creating, though they know 
 it not. Worship is propitiatory in form, and 
 is in no sense an identification with a higher 
 being. Their morality, as you will infer, is 
 largely negative — a resignation to a destiny 
 that they consider inevitable. From this con- 
 fusion of purposes has arisen the need of 
 
 48 
 
f THE JOURNAL 1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 social workers, and the great responsibility 
 for the general welfare that devolves upon 
 the teachers. 
 
 This has been what is known as examina- 
 tion week at school, and a very trying one 
 for all concerned. At such times the children 
 are taken out of the class compound and ex- 
 amined individually to make certain that they 
 are being properly molded into the standard 
 form. If any are found to exceed the limits 
 of mediocrity, the teacher is taken severely 
 to task, for it is manifest that she is failing 
 in the duties of her sacred office. The un- 
 fortunate child who shows indications of ex- 
 ceptional characteristics is given over at once 
 to a more strenuous dragon and the pressure 
 increased to guarantee the removal of the 
 offending part. Such unfortunate children 
 are called geniuses. They usually die young 
 because of the extreme treatment to which 
 the good of the state requires that they be 
 subjected. 
 
 There were several of Mary's pupils who 
 failed to keep within the average. These were 
 the ones I had found most interesting, but, I 
 will grant, the most difficult to manage; so 
 perhaps the system of suppression is justi- 
 fied. Mary has been very unhappy over the 
 
 49 
 
Q to 
 
 AS-IF 
 
 report she had to make of her failure 
 the Head-trainer, whose censure she fears 
 greatly. 
 
 The people here are possessed of a cer- 
 tain strange temerity. They delight to walk 
 on the edge of things, notwithstanding that 
 some one is always tumbling over and becom- 
 ing lost to his world. I can get no explana- 
 tion for such foolhardiness, unless it arises 
 from an innate desire to figure at least once 
 before their fellows in a unique manner, even 
 at the cost of life itself. It is as if the ego 
 makes this one final effort to regain for him- 
 self the sense of individuality that is being 
 insidiously sapped out of him by the dragons. 
 
 Another peril, which constantly confronts 
 the ego in this sense-jungle, is a sort of pit- 
 fall known among the learned as categories. 
 These abound on every hand. No person is 
 proof against their danger; in truth, there 
 is scarcely any action possible to an indi- 
 vidual which may not throw him into a cate- 
 gory of greater or less self-effacement. You 
 go out with a very personal desire, — for in- 
 stance, that of helping a particular person in 
 a particular way, — and before you realize it 
 you are plunged into the great Category of 
 the Philanthropist, and from that time on you 
 are benevolent of necessity, not of choice. 
 
 50 
 
r THE JOURNAL "I 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 And so it is with everything you do. These 
 manholes are, I am beginning to suspect, the 
 breeding places of the dragons which dom- 
 inate the land. 
 
 When Mary wants to make sure that a 
 certain act is good, she proceeds to compute 
 the effect upon humanity if all people were 
 to perform it. Of course nothing of any 
 magnitude can undergo such a process of 
 multiplication as that without exceeding all 
 reason and desirability. Now I maintain that 
 a thing may be good because of its very 
 uniqueness. But she argues that what is 
 right for one is right for all; that if you 
 want a certain privilege you should be willing 
 to grant the same to others. I am unable to 
 make her see that the probability of others 
 not wanting it may make it your duty to 
 take it. There is no form of activity that 
 would not suffer a similar fate if exposed to 
 unlimited number. Fortunately there is no 
 privilege desired alike by all men except 
 that of expressing each his personality, — and 
 this is its own guarantee for individual 
 variation. 
 
 But Mary's mathematics has to do entirely 
 with summations. It is always the mass and 
 not the unit that is under consideration in 
 this world of brute force. I am inclined to 
 believe that therein lies the error in its form 
 
 51 
 
AS-IF 
 
 of life. Might it not be that in their eager- 
 ness for a larger outreach, these people have 
 exceeded their capacity? They do all things 
 in the large. It is always many books, many 
 friends, long journeys, large houses, much 
 wealth. The prevalent desire is for expan- 
 sion. The current of being is entirely cen- 
 trifugal. It is not strange that they do not 
 find their souls; it would be strange if they 
 did. 
 
 Oh, Diodes, my love, all of this troubles 
 me much! I know well that I could not so 
 readily discover the fault in Mary if I had 
 not likewise failed. I fear that, after all, 
 this mode of manifestation is of my own cre- 
 ating. I desired a larger life, all regardless 
 of my qualifications for it. I see now that 
 we must live up to what we have before we 
 can come into greater possessions in any true 
 sense. It is the friends whom we have time 
 for, the books that we read, the houses that 
 we imbue with our personality, that are really 
 ours. Ah, it is writ large for me in the 
 macrocosm of Mary's empirical life what in 
 the microcosm of my own I did not descry! 
 
 Long days have passed. The walls of 
 my prison-house press upon me. Mary, in 
 order to escape from my subtle demands, has 
 plunged into a restless mania of work. 
 
 52 
 
r THE JOURNAL 1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 While I fain would think that I am becom- 
 ing, to some extent, the formative principle 
 behind her thought and action, she still ac- 
 cords me no recognition. The sad thing 
 about it all is that Mary longs for the larger 
 life that I could so easily give her if she 
 would let me. But she thinks that such a 
 life is to be found only in self-abnegation and 
 service, poor girl! 
 
 Although these people put great emphasis 
 on the giving of self, — in fact, it is the key- 
 note of their religion, — it never occurs to 
 them to question what sort of a self they 
 have to give. Now, I take it that a god is to 
 be known by the worship he evokes. If I 
 remember rightly, even the most primitive 
 folk in our history saw to it that the offerings 
 which they placed on their altars were with- 
 out spot or blemish. I cannot make out 
 whether this dereliction on the part of the 
 Demos comes from egotism or the lack of 
 a sense of personal worth. Perhaps, though, 
 these are one and the same, for when I stop 
 to recall, the greatest persons among us were 
 always the most humble. Contradictory as 
 it would seem to what I have told you of 
 them, these are a very egoistic people. They 
 appear to be ever on the defensive concerning 
 their rights as individuals. Seeking as they 
 
 53 
 
AS-IF 
 
 do their selfhood in an external world, they 
 have not learned that its realization lies 
 within themselves ; so it may well be that the 
 question of personal worth as a moral obli- 
 gation has never occurred to them, and per- 
 haps their gods are better pleased to have 
 it so. 
 
 So you see, Diodes, that it is a very poor 
 place for souls, — this world that your com- 
 rade has come upon. My one prayer is that 
 I may be able to get out of this experience 
 all that it holds for me — that is not what I 
 mean; I would say, to put into it all that it 
 will contain. I am not going to acknowledge 
 — that is, not just yet — that you are right in 
 placing matter before spirit. Die I may, but 
 I will die hard. 
 
 I grant you this is a pretty bad muddle of 
 a world I am in; nevertheless I am willing 
 to take the responsibility of its creation — 
 yes, a thousand times, rather than think that 
 I am the buffet of unknown forces or the 
 plaything of blind chance. 
 
 The mistaken abnegation on the part of 
 the womanhood of this sense-plane is, after 
 all, only a projection on a larger life-screen 
 of the self-sacrifice that the women of our 
 sphere were wont to make for their families. 
 In either case it is service apart from its 
 meaning for self -development. When woman 
 
 54 
 
r THE JOURNAL "1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 learns that her first duty is to make the most 
 of herself, her soul will not be as a light 
 hidden under a bushel. There is no develop- 
 ment apart from service, but service there is, 
 and much of it, that does not make for de- 
 velopment. In the degree that Mary is be- 
 coming her ideal of a good teacher, she is 
 losing her potentiality for growth. But all 
 this had to be that I might see and know and 
 understand. 
 
 Oh, Diodes, would that I could find you, 
 my love ! But I have little hope now of doing 
 so, for I have made every appeal possible 
 to Mary, without avail. She will not give 
 me expression. Can it be that you are like- 
 wise striving somewhere to cross the chasm 
 between spirit and matter? Perhaps you are 
 close at hand and I cannot see you, and you 
 would never discover in the cold implacable 
 Mary your gentle loving Agnesi. How little 
 did we dream, in those golden days that were, 
 of what was to be! If I could only have 
 known then that my yearnings were to have 
 form, I should have made ready to create 
 thus beyond myself. We seek anxiously to 
 realize our purposes; rather should we seek 
 to know them. All of this confusion of ex- 
 ternality is due, I believe, to the failure of 
 thought to unify itself. We are lost in the 
 
 55 
 

 A S • I F 
 
 conflict of our desires. Because of the undue 
 emphasis that I placed on intellectual values, 
 I have become embedded in this process — 
 ignored in the mad rushing to and fro of a 
 merely human culture, a culture without love 
 and without life. 
 
 I have fancied several times of late that 
 I have caught a glimpse of a soul in some 
 eye, — this when I have given a kindly intona- 
 tion to Mary's voice or prompted her to some 
 little tenderness. I believe the children are 
 possessed of souls when very young, but the 
 prison-house soon closes in. Indeed, if you 
 were to know their dragon-system of instruc- 
 tion, you would not expect any spiritual life 
 to survive long. Analysis is their watchword, 
 and very advisedly, I am coming to see, for 
 if the people were once to discover that the 
 way of progress is through mental synthesis, 
 the dragons would not long hold sway over 
 them. But these dragons are subtle crea- 
 tures; not only do they conceal the secret 
 of their strength, but themselves, and so well 
 do they do this that most persons disclaim 
 their existence even, maintaining that such 
 terms as crowd-mind and mob-spirit are 
 merely figurative. 
 
 Apparently the dragons hypnotize the 
 people into thinking themselves free by much 
 
 56 
 
r THE JOURNAL "1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 repetition of the word Democratic, for it is 
 to be noted that where the dragons are most 
 dominant that word recnrs frequently. All 
 this, yon will understand, Diodes, is but con- 
 jecture on my part, for — as I most painfully 
 realize — I am in no position to discover the 
 truth. 
 
 But to return to the children. As I was 
 remarking, they are taught to subject all 
 things to analysis; it signifies not, flower or 
 poem — the masterpiece alike of God and 
 man — is torn asunder in their quest for fact. 
 And it is after this manner that they pursue, 
 to the end of their days, the phantom of 
 reality, never guessing that what truth they 
 would have is theirs for the creating. 
 
 That the Demos are so under the tyranny 
 of these dragon entities is ascribable, I verily 
 believe, to just this, — that in its functioning 
 their thought is destructive rather than con- 
 structive; for analysis is to spiritual life 
 what the knife is to protoplasm. 
 
 Oh, Diodes, can it be that I am too critical 
 of Mary? As I wrote the above it flashed over 
 me that it might be so. She is as one dead; 
 perhaps I have killed her. My attitude to- 
 ward her has been an analytical one, I know. 
 I thought that was necessary in order to make 
 her over to my liking. But what right have 
 I to use her for my self-realization? This 
 
 57 
 
AS-IF 
 
 objective life belongs surely to her; I have 
 had mine, and a joyous one it was too. As 
 her soul, it is my province to inspire her in 
 what she would do, not to dictate to her. Per- 
 haps when I have learned to be a true soul 
 to Mary, she will give embodiment to the 
 best that is in me. 
 
 Hitherto, Diodes, I have thought only of 
 finding you, my ideal. In consequence Mary 
 has been the creature of impulses that she 
 could not understand. Henceforth I shall 
 seek the ideal within myself regardless of 
 whether I ever discover you. That doesn't 
 mean that I shall not be glad to find you, my 
 love, but it is my duty to find myself first. 
 Oh, how like the Demos I have been! They 
 are truly my own people ! 
 
 Since the examinations the Herr-Professor 
 has come in often to see that Mary is allowing 
 no more individualism to get beyond control. 
 I dislike the man exceedingly, he is so inscrut- 
 able. They say, though, that he is very 
 learned, which means of course that he has 
 passed successively through the whole series 
 of dragons. How his soul must have suffered 
 in the process ! I wonder if it is quite dead 
 — he seems very cold. Poor Mary, to be sub- 
 jected to this inquisition — as if it were not 
 
 58 
 
r THE JOURNAL 1 
 L OF AGNESI J 
 
 torture sufficient to teach dragons without 
 being under criticism while doing it! 
 
 Oh, Diodes, I have something so good 
 to tell you! Since my resolve Mary has 
 changed greatly. Today a friend said to her : 
 
 "What has come over you, Mary?" 
 
 She answered, "Why, I seem to be find- 
 ing myself!" 
 
 The friend replied laughingly, "Has it 
 taken you all these years?" 
 
 And Mary said, "Yes; I feel as if my 
 soul had come to me." 
 
 Imagine, if you can, what contrition was 
 mine on hearing that! 
 
 The best of it all is that she now desires 
 solitude, whereas formerly she needed com- 
 panionship. This rejoices me greatly, for 
 only through isolation may we come to find 
 our selfhood. And we do have such good 
 times, Diodes ; even better, dear, than I ever 
 had with you! This won't hurt you, I trust, 
 since it should be so, for you know she is my 
 very own self, and much as I love you, sweet- 
 heart, you are another self. 
 
 There is one thing, however, that is giv- 
 ing me much concern. My ^presence in Mary 
 is having a deleterious effect, I fear, on the 
 discipline of the children, for it seems to 
 call out what of individualism in them that 
 
 59 
 

 AS-IF 
 
 has not been smothered. It is as if their 
 little souls leaped forth to meet me, and I 
 am coming to love some of them. I long 
 to take the bright ones away from the dragon 
 and teach them alone, but of course that 
 would never do. The Herr-Professor would 
 censure Mary greatly were he to find it out 
 — and I suppose it would be undemocratic. 
 I must, however, give the man credit for 
 one bit of humanity. Today Mary's strength 
 failed her while he was in the room. Where- 
 upon the dragon became quite obstreperous, 
 so that he took it in hand. But after he had 
 got it quelled, instead of rebuking Mary he 
 said, "It is a lively one!" This seemed to 
 solace Mary for the humiliation she had suf- 
 fered, and I was so glad for her that when 
 he bade her good-night, I added, without 
 Mary being conscious of it, a tiny squeeze 
 of gratitude to their formal hand- shake. I 
 was scared the moment I had done so, for 
 he looked questioningly into her eyes, as if 
 he were in search of me, and — would you 
 believe it ! — I thought I caught a momentary 
 glimpse of a soul behind his veiled glance. 
 But that must have been due to my excite- 
 ment, for a dragon-master can hardly pos- 
 sess a soul. 
 
 60 
 
 
[THE JOURNAL "1 
 OF AGNESI J 
 
 Since the above happened Mary has de- 
 cided to take up her writing seriously, with 
 the view of giving it to the world. I am 
 greatly rejoiced, for this journal may then 
 fall into your hands, my Diodes. 
 
 "We are much by ourselves now. When 
 people jest Mary about it — that she must be 
 in love — she answers that she is inviting her 
 soul, and then how happy I am! I tell her 
 of the many truths that have been passed 
 down from soul to soul in our line, and she is 
 doing her best to make me understand what 
 riches she would add to the heritage of our 
 common womanhood. Thus do the past and 
 the future commune together to the end that 
 the subconscious and the conscious within us 
 may be one for the making of a more nearly 
 perfect woman in that greater life which shall 
 be ours when she, in her turn, becomes a soul. 
 
 After a long period of joyful work. Yes- 
 terday the Herr-Professor told Mary that 
 she put a great deal of soul into her teaching. 
 How I trembled when I heard that! But I 
 wasn't going to have Mary" suffer on my ac- 
 count; so I stammered out that it was all 
 my fault. Before I could go further, dear 
 Mary, to save me, told him that it was due 
 
 61 
 

 
 AS-IF 
 
 to her effort to write fiction, and then she 
 went on to tell him of the journal as if it 
 were simply a story that she was creating. 
 To my surprise, he laughed and chuckled 
 over the dragons (he apparently thinks there 
 are none), and said very many compliment- 
 ary things — how delightful he found her, and 
 so forth. Of course I hid myself so as not 
 to get her into any more trouble, for it is 
 not likely that she would get out of it so 
 easily another time. Then, too, I don't like 
 to hear her speak of me as if I were an im- 
 aginary being. I know that it is very easy 
 to get thus to regarding things spiritual; 
 moreover, words have such potency that there 
 is a certain amount of danger in giving ex- 
 pression to any untruth. Don't think, dear, 
 that I am criticizing Mary. What she said 
 was in all loyalty to me, and, considering 
 the man, the only explanation possible. Of 
 course, you will understand, Diodes, that he 
 used the word soul to mean vivacity, enthus- 
 iasm, life — what you please. The Demos 
 have all the words that we have, but many 
 of them have lost the spirit that gave them 
 meaning. 
 
 62 
 
tTHE JOUKNAL 1 
 OF AGNESI J 
 
 MARY WRITES THE REST 
 
 A few days after I had told Professor 
 Passihof of my literary attempts, he called 
 and said: 
 
 "I have something to show you, Miss 
 James — one confession deserves another. I 
 also have tried my hand at fiction- writing — 
 this when I was in college and lonely, being 
 a stranger in a strange land." 
 
 And then he produced the letters of 
 Diodes to Agnesi, with which this book 
 opens. Now I had not mentioned the names 
 of my characters to him. Imagine, then, my 
 amazement when I saw them in his story! 
 Indeed, I was struck dumb; but my dear 
 Agnesi, either forgetting or else not knowing 
 the proprieties, cried with great joy: 
 
 "Oh, my Diodes, my other Self, at last 
 I have found you, my love!" 
 
 And before I could realize what had hap- 
 pened, the Professor had me in his arms, and 
 was saying over and over again: 
 
 "My loved one, my darling Agnesi, for 
 whom I have looked so long." 
 
 What could I do? Fiction-writing has 
 certainly been my undoing. - But it is all very 
 beautiful. Mr. Passihof is sure that we have 
 always belonged to each other, and it does 
 seem as if it were so. 
 
 63 
 
AS-IF 
 
 The walls of his self-constraint are fall- 
 ing away, revealing a spirit that I little 
 dreamed lay hidden under his stern exterior, 
 and my Soul is so happy that she sings all 
 day long. 
 
 Diodes is certain that he has found the 
 eleventh dimension, and Agnesi is quite con- 
 tent to abide with him in it, knowing that 
 there is no more joyous life than that of a 
 true companionship. 
 
 Who can say what of this is truth, and 
 what fiction? 
 
 
 
 ,. 
 
 64 
 
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