XX 
PREFACE. 
 
penance of C. B. J. ;  all night I wrote — and wrote. 
So fierce I wrote that — six months later — I have 
written no word since.  I have poured forth all the vials, 
and loosed all the seals.  From that supreme effort I am 
fallen exhausted — until, as it may chance, the Gods 
renew my vigour. 
And all my other work I count as nothing ;  for I have 
written this in Pan, and in Pan I am content. 
To the boys and girls of England I give my book, the 
charter of their freedom. 
 
 
ALICE WESLEY TORR OR ALEISTER CROWLEY ? 
 
 
With one thing and another to worry me I was a ner-
vous wreck all this March and April of 1908.  I was was-
ting my time in constructing anagrams on my name to 
publish this book under.  Which shows how dependant 
the best of us is on his in’ards.  If an Army marches on 
its belly, so does a philosopher think on his.  My best on 
another’s 
So lost indeed was I in this jungle of delusion that 
I was quite surprised when one beautiful sunset in May, 
sitting at ease under the shadow of the Lion de Belfort, 
I became aware of a temptation of the devil.  Quite a num-
ber of people had been asking me during the last few 
months to compromise with respectability.  And by Jove ! 
I nearly did !  I was ill — forgive the wavering !  I am