Mysteries Etidorhpa: The End of the Earth

Etidorhpa: The End of the Earth

Etidorhpa: The End of the Earth
Catalog # SKU1095
Publisher TGS Publishing
Weight 1.50 lbs
Author Name John Uri Loyd



The End of the Earth
John Uri Lloyd

The incredible tale of a forced journey into subterraneum chambers and an adventure to the center of the earth. The forced adventure is conjectured to be that of Captain William Morgan whom the Freemasons were accused of murdering. This tale, if true, not only exonerates the Freemasons of conspiracy and murder, but makes the cover up that of Captain Morgan's life, rather than his demise.

"MORE than thirty years ago occurred the first of the series of remarkable events I am about to relate. The exact date I can not recall; but it was in November..."

Illustrated by J. Augustus Knapp, who illustrated the Secret Teachings Of All Ages by Manly P. Hall.

The Strange History of a Mysterious Being and the Account of the Initiate's Remarkable Journey. This edition contains the expanded and enlarged version. This is the most fascinating, fictional, alchemical work, of Freemasonry. Join this student and his Adept Guide on an alchemical journey to the 'End of the Earth.'

This is the expanded version that includes the 'story' of the book along with the revelations of the journey to the center of the earth.


I looked after him with bewildered senses; but a sudden impulse caused me to glance toward the table, when I saw that he had forgotten his knife. With the view of returning this, I reached to pick it up, but my finger tips no sooner touched the handle than a sudden chill shivered along my nerves. Not as an electric shock, but rather as a sensation of extreme cold was the current that ran through me in an instant. Rushing into the hallway to the landing of the stairs, I called after the mysterious being," You have forgotten your knife," but beyond the faint echo of my voice, I heard no sound. The phantom was gone.

A moment later I was at the foot of the stairs, and had thrown open the door. A street lamp shed an uncertain light in front of the house. I stepped out and listened intently for a moment, but not a sound was audible, if indeed I except the beating of my own heart, which throbbed so wildly that I fancied I heard it. No footfall echoed from the deserted streets; all was silent as a churchyard, and I closed and locked the door softly, tiptoed my way back to my room, and sank collapsed into an easy chair. I was more than exhausted; I quivered from head to foot, not with cold, but with a strange nervous chill that found intensest expression in my spinal column, and seemed to flash up and down my back vibrating like a feverous pulse. This active pain was succeeded by a feeling of frozen numbness, and I sat I know not how long, trying to tranquilize myself and think temperately of the night's occurrence. By degrees I recovered my normal sensations, and directing my will in the channel of sober reasoning, I said to myself: "There can be no mistake about his visit, for his knife is here as a witness to the fact. So much is sure, and I will secure that testimony at all events." With this reflection I turned to the table, but to my astonishment; I discovered that the knife had disappeared. It needed but this miracle to start the perspiration in great cold beads from every pore.

My brain was in a whirl, and reeling into a chair, I covered my face with my hands. How long I sat in this posture I do not remember. I only know that I began to doubt my own sanity, and wondered if this were not the way people became deranged. Had not my peculiar habits of isolation, irregular and intense study, erratic living, all conspired to unseat reason ? Surely here was every ground to believe so; and yet I was able still to think consistently and hold steadily to a single line of thought. Insane people can not do that, I reflected, and gradually the tremor and excitement wore away. When I had become calmer and more collected, and my sober judgment said, " Go to bed; sleep just as long as you can; hold your eyelids down, and when you awake refreshed, as you will, think out the whole subject at your leisure," I arose, threw open the shutters, and found that day was breaking. Hastily undressing I went to bed, and closed my eyes, vaguely conscious of some soothing guardianship. Perhaps because I was physically exhausted, I soon lost myself in the oblivion of sleep.

I did not dream,- at least I could not afterwards remember my dream if I had one, but I recollect thinking that somebody struck ten distinct blows on my door, which seemed to me to be of metal and very sonorous. These ten blows in my semi-conscious state I counted. I lay very quiet for a time collecting my thoughts and noting various objects about the room, until my eye caught the dial of a French clock upon the mantel. It was a few minutes past ten, and the blows I had heard were the strokes of the hammer upon the gong in the clock. The sun was shining into the room, which was quite cold, for the fire had gone out. I arose, dressed myself quickly, and after thoroughly laving my face and hands in ice-cold water, felt considerably refreshed.

Before going out to breakfast, while looking around the room for a few things which I wanted to take with me, I espied upon the table a long white hair. This was indeed a surprise, for I had about concluded that my adventure of the previous night was a species of waking nightmare, the result of overworked brain and weakened body. But here was tangible evidence to the contrary, an assurance that my mysterious visitor was not a fancy or a dream, and his parting words, " I will see you again," recurred to me with singular effect. " He will see me again; very well; I will preserve this evidence of his visit for future use." I wound the delicate filament into a little coil, folded it carefully in a bit of paper, and consigned it to a corner in my pocket-book, though not without some misgiving that it too night disappear as did the knife.

The strange experience of that night had a good effect on me; I became more regular in all my habits, took abundant deep and exercise, was more methodical in my modes of study and reasoning, and in a short time found myself vastly improved n every way, mentally and physically.

The days went fleeting into weeks, the weeks into months, and while the form and figure of the white-haired stranger were seldom absent from my mind, he came no more.

John Uri Lloyd, Phr.M., Ph.D. (1849-1936) was one of the most important pharmaceutical chemists of his time. As the head of the Lloyd Brothers pharmaceutical company in Cincinnati and in association with the Eclectic Medical Institute, he oversaw many developments in plant chemistry, colloidal chemistry, and drug extraction procedures. He was among the first to study and document the medicinal uses of native American plants, such as the echinacea genus. His pioneering efforts in exploring America's botanical materia medica have led many to call him "The Father of American Materia Medica." - Matthew Baggett

Softcover, 7 x 8, 340+ pages