BOOK III.
THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD.
"ADON AI, appear! appear!" And as the Seer spoke, the awful Presence glided out of Nothingness, and sat, sphinx-like, at the feet of the Alchemist.
"I am come!" said the Thing.
"You should say, 'I have come,'-- it's better grammar," said the Boy-Neophyte, thoughtfully accenting the substituted expression.
"Hush, rash Boy," said the Seer, sternly.

"Would you oppose your feeble knowledge to the infinite intelligence of the Unmistakable?
A word, and you are lost forever." The Boy breathed a silent prayer, and, handing a sealed package to the Seer, begged him to hand it to his father in case of his premature decease.
"You have sent for me," hissed the Presence.

"Behold me, Apokatharticon,--the Unpronounceable.

In me all things exist that are not already coexistent.

I am the Unattainable, the Intangible, the Cause, and the Effect.