said Jehovah to the great Hebrew magician, ‘and thou art mine.’  By certain rhythms and vibratory modulations of the voice it is possible to produce harmonics of sound which awaken the inner name into life—­and then to spell it out.  Note well, to spell it,—­spell—­incantation—­the magical use of sound—­the meaning of the Word of Power, used with such terrific effect in the old forgotten Hebrew magic.  Utter correctly the names of their Forces, or Angels, I am teaching you daily now,” he went on reverently, with glowing eyes and intense conviction; “pronounce them with full vibratory power that awakens all their harmonics, and you awaken also their counterpart in yourself; you summon their strength or characteristic quality to your aid; you introduce their powers actively into your own psychical being.  Had Jacob succeeded in discovering the ‘Name’ of that ‘Angel’ with whom he wrestled, he would have become one with its superior power and have thus conquered it.  Only, he asked instead of commanded, and he found it not...”

“Magnificent!  Splendid!” cried Spinrobin, starting from his chair, seizing with his imagination potently stirred, this possibility of developing character and rousing the forces of the soul.

“We shall yet call upon the Names, and see,” replied Skale, placing a great hand upon his companion’s shoulder, “not aloud necessarily, but by an inner effort of intense will which sets in vibration the finer harmonics heard only by the poet and magician, those harmonics and overtones which embody the psychical element in music.  For the methods of poet and magician, I tell you, my dear Spinrobin, are identical, and all the faiths of the world are at the heels of that thought.  Provided you have faith you can—­move mountains!  You can call upon the very gods!”

“A most wonderful idea, Mr. Skale,” faltered the other breathlessly, “quite wonderful!” The huge sentences deafened him a little with their mental thunder.

“And utterly simple,” was the reply, “for all truth is simple.”

He paced the floor like a great caged animal.  He went down and leaned against the dark bookcase, with his legs wide apart, and hands in his coat pockets.  “To name truly, you see, is to evoke, to create!” he roared from the end of the room.  “To utter as it should be uttered any one of the Ten Words, or Creative Powers of the Deity in the old Hebrew system, is to become master of the ‘world’ to which it corresponds.  For these names are still in living contact with the realities behind.  It means to vibrate with the powers that called the universe into being and—­into form.”

A sort of shadowy majesty draped his huge figure, Spinrobin thought, as he stood in semi-darkness at the end of the room and thundered forth these extraordinary sentences with a conviction that, for the moment at least, swept away all doubt in the mind of his listener.  Dreadful ideas, huge-footed and threatening, rushed to and fro in the secretary’s mind.  He was torn away from all known anchorage, staggered, dizzy and dismayed; yet at the same time, owing to his adventure-loving temperament, a prey to some secret and delightful exaltation of the spirit.  He was out of his depth in great waters....