A fascinating design from the original title page. Below is an audio book version of the text.

EVOLOVE

The Quest and Findings

of

an Efficiency Expert as revealed by

The Life and Letters

of

George A. Blanchard, Ph.D.

compiled by his private secretary

Philip J. Ferguson

BY

Isaac Jenkinson Frazee

“The Printer of Laguna”

Laguna Beach, California

1929

[EDITED AND TRANSCRIBED BY JEFF MALLINSON]

CONTENTS

I. Editorial Introduction

II. Evolove Transcription

III. “Creation, It’s Creator,” an unfinished poem

Portrait of the author by Joseph Kleitch.

I. EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION

My wife and I recently purchased a tiny piece of land, with a old oaks and a little creek running through it. It is a spiritually meaningful place to us. We call it the “Nameless Canyon Grove” or “Taosurfer Ranch” for fun. Behind it, we have a view of a beautiful valley, and most curiously, a castle tower. We have been obsessed with the history and lore of this land, and share this transcription here as just one of the many fruits of our research and exploration of the place.

There are many fascinating stories involving this land called Moose Canyon, which once was a homestead for an English teacher named Levi P. Stone, who tried his hand at bee keeping. Stone left his land after a gunfight took place in 1888 between a local posse and squatters in Stone’s adobe home, during which more people died there than were killed at the O.K .Corral. The part of the story that concerns us here is that of a fascinating poet and artist, Isaac Frazee (1874-1949) who ended up moving his family down to this valley. Frazee was called down to the property to sketch the crime scene after the shootout. He fell in love with the land and eventually convinced his wife to move there. He had a Scottish mason build him a tower, but much of his time was spent cooking outdoors and exploring the hills and streams with his family, inviting thousands of people down to a Native American culture celebration he hosted. Later in life he moved to Laguna Beach, morphing his production into what became the Pageant of the Masters.

Frazee was best known for being a leading figure in the arts community in Laguna Beach, and for poems he would often publish in periodicals. But what is most interesting to me (a historian of ideas) is a little book he wrote with a palindrome title: EVOLOVE. It is set within the framework of fictional characters. I’ve chosen to leave out much of the framework set-up and jump to the section where the main character reflects on the lessons he’s learned after his doctor forced him to slow down and step away from work. The lessons involve the weaving together of science, the teachings of Jesus, and wisdom from Native American culture. Frazee seems to have been even quirkier than I am, though I find myself drawn to his spirit and interests in many ways.

As I write, I’m confined to my home due to a global pandemic, and figured it would be appropriate to work on this text, due to its themes. I am grateful to the staff at the University of California, Irvine library’s special collections department. They let me come in and photograph pages of the book, some photos, and an incomplete poem on the theme of “evolove” just hours before the university had to close down operations to the public, as has my own. What I offer here is the first product of what I expect to be a life long interest in Frazee, his work, and the Southern California bohemian culture of the early twentieth century. I offer this text as an educational and inspirational resource. I welcome any member of the Frazee family to reach out to me if there is objection to my posting this for the public. More importantly, I welcome any descendants who have additional insights or unpublished materials that are not currently included in the UCI archives.

The reader should be aware that Frazee resonates with an interest in the sort of scientific spiritualism common to many intellectuals and cultural creatives of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. He was seeking to re-enchant life in a world that had become obsessed with capitalist industrial progress but was often dehumanizing to those people caught up in the rat race. In this book, he shows that the dehumanization did not just affect the workers, but also the clerks and business owners. Contemporary readers who are sensitive to issues related to appropriating indigenous culture may find some of the following uncomfortable. For instance, the fictional Native American people the main character encounters are a sort of amalgamation of Pueblo cultural practices and Lakota religious beliefs. That said, Frazee’s life seems to have involved a sincere love for and interest in connecting with his Native American neighbors, such as the Pauma, who live just over the hills from his castle. I plan to do extensive research in the future to confirm my suspicion that some of the spiritual themes in this book—while indeed blending ideas from various bands—may well have reflected the ideas taught by various tribal sages who would come to his festival called “Kitshi Manido.” He himself reflects a circumspect rejection of the myth of the “noble savage” in the following pages, even though he lauds pre-Colombian ways as happier than those of the industrialized West.

Evolove is a form of utopian literature, but it also reflects the longing for a lost civilization common to many in the West who had become disillusioned by the violence and suffering of the Great War. Progressive hopes, characterized by the Chicago World Fair of 1893 had been dashed. This book was written on the eve of the Great Depression. It describes a sort of Shangri La in the Sonoran Desert. Interestingly “Shangri La” is the imagined lost civilization of James Hilton’s, Lost Horizon (1933), which incidentally has a character in it named Charles Mallinson. I am interested in knowing whether it is possible that Frazee might have influenced Hilton, though it is likely that they drew from a common fantasy at the time, a fantasy of escaping from the present debacle of civilization and returning to a world in which people care for each other, for the children of the community, and for harmony with the natural world instead of the obsessive desire to exploit it.

Participants gathered for the pageant held at Frazee’s property in Valley Center, CA.

As a professor who’s specialized in the history of Christianity and sects in Europe and America, I find Frazee’s take on Jesus (assuming his take is roughly that of the main character, Blanchard) to be fascinating. I’ll let you discover that take on your own, but I resonate with the general idea that there are times when a so-called Christian culture is uncomfortable with the actual teachings of Jesus, sometimes even hostile. As Woody Guthrie sang in his song “Jesus Christ:” “When Jesus come to town, all the working folks around |Believed what he did say|But the bankers and the preachers, they nailed Him on the cross, |And they laid Jesus Christ in his grave. …
If Jesus was to preach what He preached in Galilee, |They would lay poor Jesus in His grave.”

One might also detect a bit of old-school natural theology in these pages, that is, the idea that the key themes of Jesus are discoverable through reason and observation of nature. This tradition goes back to works such as Matthew Tindal’s Christianity as Old as Creation (1730). That said, I didn’t have time to capture images of Frazee’s many boxes of written notes, nor did I get a close enough look at a book on theology from one of his ancestors, perhaps his father, who seemed to have been important at Princeton Seminary. I’ll have to figure that out once the current pandemic settles down and UCI’s collections open back up.

A note on the text itself, I have kept Frazee’s unique spellings and punctuations, without using sic throughout. In a few instances I corrected what were clearly typesetting errors. I have included the original page numbers in brackets for the purpose of citation. The text below starts with a paragraph summary of the first 34 pages, the rest is directly from Frazee’s writings. Photos are courtesy of the UCI library’s special collections.

—JCM

March 22, 2020

———

II. EVOLOVE

A profit-obsessed industrialist named George Blanchard had his lifestyle change abruptly when his doctor told him his heart health was bad, warning him: “You must stop work, get out in the open and play golf.” This was especially hard news for Blanchard, who had considered every waking hour an opportunity to be productive. Now he was told he had to rest. The doctor suggested he might enjoy relaxing at remote hot springs in the Sonoran Desert, which Blanchard decided to try. Trekking out from the hot springs one day, Blanchard comes across a lost native American society. Blanchard learns a new way of life from these peaceful people, who have taken in two other wayfarers of European descent. The text below picks up (page 34) with the final letter Blanchard sent to his secretary, Phil. This section contains most of the wisdom and insights Frazee was trying to communicate about the intersections of science, the teachings of Jesus, and Native American spirituality.

I have been slowly adapting myself to the new surroundings. Of course I have no way of compensating these people for all their kindly helpfulness as they know nothing of money or its equivalent, not even “Wam-pum” save as beads and decorations. Consequently it behooves me to make myself useful in as many ways as possible.

Strange to say I find it an ever increasing delight, for willingness seems to be the Key-note of Service, transmuting thereby toil into pleasure, and so we labor together with our primitive planting-sticks in such a happy unhurried deliberate way that I have almost forgotten the meaning of “Efficiency”. [35]

The old Chief or more correctly speaking “Father” of the tribe (for these people are not warlike in the least) has given me a wonderful pair of old moccasins which he has worn for many years and which he calls the “Moccasins of Willingness”. I am now wearing them with peace to my spirit and comfort to my “sole”. They are indeed very comfortable. Somehow I already feel a quickening of my impulses toward helpfulness and service.

As soon as my strained leg permitted, the Chief furnished me a guide to lead me up to the Pinon Mountains to find the white “Stranger Brothers” who lived with mountain members of the tribe.

Here I found one of the white men. Sure enough he was Edgerton although no one would ever suspect it for he is now the very picture of health and save for his lighter color hardly distinguishable from the Indians with whom he labors.

At first he seemed to resent my coming among the Lost People until learning how unintentional it all was on my part—how, being hopelessly lost among the shifting Sand Hills we eventually glimpsed the distant crests of the Pinon Mountains and finally came into this desert-circled land whose people welcomed us into their homes as lost brothers.

In explaining my presence at the Mud Springs Oasis (a place of which he had evidently never heard) I told him my name was George Arnold, purposely omitting the “Blanchard” as it might lead to unnecessary explanations. I further explained I had made more or less a failure of life (a fact, Ferguson, which I have but recently realized) and had sought the desert [36] to regain my health. This seemed to make a real appeal to him, as no doubt he too considered his own life a failure; at least he seemed glad to have gotten as far as possible away from it—and to have found peace here among his new friends.

A member of the Frazee family on their ranch.

My sincere interest in the Lost People and my desire to learn more of the communal phase of their primitive life gained his hearty approval, and opened up to my sharing the seemingly exhaustless stores of his own research, for he had long made a passion of ethnological investigation (even before coming to the desert) and had endeared himself greatly to these people.

One evening as the fire of fragrant cedar logs burned low Edgerton said to me:

“It’s very strange that the Indians should have gained such a keen conception of the qualities of Matter. Of course he knew nothing of the fundamental facts of science—of the ninety-two elements constituting Matter; of the atomic structure of Matter; how each atom is, in truth, a miniature universe in which its proton or nucleus is a central sun radiating, pulsating, Light, Heat, and Energy. Around which flash electrons as incomprehensible speed; although he does not know that all Matter evolves from Motion—is never free from it, even in so-called solids—and finally that Matter is indestructible (that is, beyond the power of total annihilation); nor is he cognizant of the marvelous power locked within the atom, yet with all his ignorance of things scientific he seems (through intuitive foresight, close observation and conjecture) to have evolved a pleasing and clever theory regarding Creation that is quite beyond the grasp of the scientifically [37]trained mind.

“To the Indian, Creation is in itself positive proof of an All Wise Creator—Who being the Source or All in All, created of Himself All Things for the Good of All Things. Therefore, He is the Great Unseen or Spirit of All Pervading Good. That is the good in all things; in the clod, in the grass, the tree, the buffalo, the stars, the moon, the sun, and the heart of man.

“Each is obligated to its special service, and endowed with intuitive urge or inclination to function perfectly. All save in the heart of man (who through wayward willfulness) has appropriated unto himself a Will of his own, which often goes contrary to that of the Great Spirit, who though grieved, like and earthly parent, over the actions of a spoiled child, leaves it to learn by experience that willfulness leads to friction and friction to trouble—nevertheless a Creator who seems to love his “human Children” above all other creatures and to reward their obedience with special favor until they at times seem to take on attributes of the Great Spirit—that Unselfishness that begat All Things for the good of others—who endowed All Things with the Spirit of Unselfish Service, until unselfish service becomes in truth the inner urge of All Things. Thus the Indian finds in Service the inter-related quality test in all Matter; the unselfish motive or impulse being the final test of service. Thus, the wolf through Service becomes the dog, man’s best friend; the tom-tom, “He who calls to Council”; the Calumet, the counselor; the bow and spear are but wayside sticks—transmuted by Service into weapons of defense. It is the joint-service of [38] the stick and string which transform it into a Unity of Purpose—the bow—consequently their joint-service has become sacrificed to the making of a bow which in turn becomes a materialization of the Service Spirit.

“Thus the Indian who knows nothing about the mineral and chemical properties in Matter (further than that the rock disintegrates into soil, builds up the plant-life—the plant is food for the animal life, and finally the ashes of man still retain many of the rock’s former ingredients) conceives the idea that all Matter is interrelated through its spiritual obligation to Service, and thus Service becomes the dominant characteristic of Matter. All Matter being Endowed with sufficient intuitive urge of Primal Purpose to give forth unreservedly to the limit of its obligation. “Thus have they blended Spirit with Matter—perpetuating their faith by their simple though eloquent burial rites.

“Probably you will remember the skeleton of an Indian in the Southwest Museum—which is exhibited as found buried—on its knees—and which I Call the Truth-seeker from the fact that with its left hand it still clasps to its heart—a Crystal, while with the right it holds to its ear—a sea-shell. Thus listening to the mysterious voice of the spirit—clutching at the crystal of Truth—while kneeling in sincere humility among the ashes of peace-smoke prayers to the Great spirit—it becomes indeed the most eloquent of all mortuary messages known to man. The golden glory of King Tut’s royal tomb with its lavish display of human vanity and superstition seem contemptible in comparison with this poor In [39] dian’s sincere expression of humility and faith.”

Edgerton had much to tell me about the “brother” as the Indians call the other white man, saying his real name is Schleicher; of his wonderful influence over the Indians, or rather their sincere love for each other; he had lived among them for many years, having been driven into the desert country by war-time persecution under suspicion of having been a German sympathizer, owning to his persistent preaching of the “Sermon on the Mount” such messages them being taboo.

But of course, as Edgerton explained, it was no time then for a war-crazed people to listen patiently to a “love your enemy” proposition. Since and even the Church were sacrificing their all in defense of the State, so naturally he was repudiated by his panic-stricken, popularity-seeking Bishop, maligned by the press, and thrown into prison as a possible spy. He was eventually released through the kindly efforts of an army chaplain, who seeing his heroic stand for the faith of his fathers (and secretly sympathizing with him) used his influence in his behalf. Emancipated and broken in spirit, from long captivity, he finally drifted into the desert, to at least die in peace. And here among their encircling sand dunes, the Lost People found him. He was the first white man they had ever seen, and has long been considered a veritable Shamin or Medicine Man among them.

All of this made me more anxious than ever to see him. So I persuaded Edgerton to furnish me an Indian boy to guide me over the mountain to the rancheria-village [40] where he as caring for the sick.

A climb of some three miles, over marvelously well kept paths, brought us to the summit of the pass. These Indians have an age-old rule which as become a custom, that each person in passing over a trail must always leave it smoother or more passable than when he started on it. Thus it was I observed my guide, a bright lad of some fourteen years, ever now and then—as we walked along—stoop down to toss a pebble out of the path, or break off some branch hanging too low. Small acts yet in the sum total, resulting in a splendid system of broad, well kept trails connecting all their rancherias.

Through untold generations this custom has become an ingrained trait, or automatic habit, whereby each traveler unconsciously smoothes the way for another. And so it is that their word for “benefactor” also means “Trail-Mender”.

Our way from the summit led us along the rim of a deep pine and cedar clad canyon whose cliffs of chocolate colored conglomerate glowed brightly through the dark trees.

Some four miles down the trail the canyon made an abrupt turn. Here we beheld a beautiful well watered valley, with a small cluster of communal buildings, clinging like swallow nests beneath the eaves of the overhanging cliff. The evening sun cast a golden radiance over all, and with the sparkling stream and verdant fields made up a vision of tranquil beauty, plentitude and peace. A mile further on we gained the floor of the canyon, and shortly after the foot of the cliff, on which nestled the village. Here the lad inquired of an [41] old Indian woman for the Brother. She told us he was over at the Sweat Lodge caring for a crippled Indian. Starting over we met him on the trail, so engrossed with assisting the Indian he did not notice us until the lad spoke to him. Then glancing up, somewhat dazed, he stretched forth his hand calling me “brother”.

It seems he had heard of our coming among the Lost People shortly after our arrival in the land. Although his manner was cordial nevertheless I seemed to sense some aversion on his part to another white man coming among them. He however made me welcome, giving me a room adjoining his own apartment—for these communal buildings are “apartment houses indeed” once inside his door I became his guest and with true Indian hospitality was made “one of the household”.

He had many questions to ask regarding Edgerton whom he had not seen for over two weeks, each of them being busily occupied with tribal duties—he with the sick, and Edgerton superintending the gathering of the pinon and acorn crop. It soon became evident he as a great admirer of Edgerton. He told me he had never known a man so absolutely unselfish; that he had so completely sunk his own personality into that of the tribe—they now consider him a real Indian brother.

One memorable evening as we sat together watching the twilight clothe the desert mountains in supernatural glory he told me of his past. He said:

“I had long considered Christ’s Sermon on the Mount as being the most comprehensive measure of His Message to man—the fullest most complete reasonable dem- [42] onstration of His plan for the spiritual regeneration of the world.

“The very fact, that during the war when Suspicion, Fear, and Hate were rampant over the world that it should suddenly become “taboo” a subject to be avoided, even repudiated by the Churches which had previously preached it, convinced me more than ever—that it must be indeed the very Truth—the Universal panacea for the world in its hour of uncertainty and need. So I studied it prayerfully and the more I investigated its deeper spiritual meaning, the more I became astonished at His doctrine for “He taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes”. Becoming thoroughly convinced that in this marvelous message is to be found all the essentials for divine guidance of all the people of earth and sincerely believing this I courageously preached it. This “indiscretion” led to my expulsion from the pulpit, persecution and finally to my flight into this desert—where, strange to say, I have found these untutored people who for untold centuries have been living from day to day their lives of happy communal helpfulness—unconsciously demonstrating the practical workability of those divine truths promulgated ages ago by an humble carpenter in far away Galilee—none other than the Spirit of God made manifest in the flesh.

“What wonder these mysterious revelations should have drawn me into spiritual kinship with this peculiar people who in some inexplicable way had sensed divine truth. Were these savages too a chosen people of God? And if so, was not I too favored of God in having my lot cast among [43] them? With some such thoughts I started my investigations into their tribal lore and ancient legends.

“From the very first they treated me with a marked deference I could not account for—in fact more like sincere reverence. This I later found to be their customary attitude towards all albino things. Like other primitive people they considered the chance white or albino animal sacred and I being the first white man they had ever seen they naturally attributed spiritual powers to me—no doubt considering me a “living spirit” as it were, returned from the sand-hills of the dead.

“At any rate I found them a kindly disposed hospitable people with but few wants and those easily supplied through the primitive tillage of their fertile valley lands—which with wild fruits, nuts and game sufficed for all their needs, thus allowing them much leisure to devote to their various crafts, merry-,making and numerous rituals. I find them intensely dramatic and cleverly inclined to dramatize with dance and song their many beautiful myths—which being direct interpretations from Nature are delightfully sympathetic, poetic and artistic.

“To the Indian, Creation is in itself positive proof of an All Wise Creator—Who being the Source or All in All, created of Himself All Things for the Good of All Things. Therefore, He is the Great Unseen or Spirit of All Pervading Good. That is the good in all things; in the clod, in the grass, the tree, the buffalo, the stars, the moon, the sun, and the heart of man.”

“Possibly this continual attitude of communal helpfulness gains for them the valuable dramatic power of “getting the other fellow’s view-point”. At any rate they are very clever actors, capable of completely losing themselves in their various roles with mimicry and pantomime that is truly eloquent.

“I had hoped when first coming among them to find some opening whereby I could minister unto their spiritual needs, but [44] after being with them for some time it dawned upon me that these peace-loving, so-called ignorant savages were actually living day by day, unconsciously demonstrating, those very truths which I had hoped to reveal unto them.

“In measuring them up with the requirements of the Sermon on the Mount I found that although it was unknown to them (unless in some vague cosmic way—or a confused analogy with the legend of t”, who brought gifts to man from the Great Spirit”) they had unconsciously accepted it as the groove of least resistance; and yet the one way of fullest individual expression—each personally sharing so radiantly, so generously, with the others, as to blend in the one spiritual purpose of Service. Thus with frugality, labor and love they have been going on their happy helpful way knowing absolutely nothing of science, religion, or civilization save as revealed to them in the book of Nature. And yet measuring up so completely to that Golden Rule laid down by the Master of Men in his Matchless Sermon on the Mount—slowly grasping (in their intuitive reverent way) a deeper, more sympathetic insight into the very essence of Matter than even Science has as yet attained to.

“And why should they not be even as blessed ones—each of them considering himself a veritable child of the Great Spirit—therefore all “brothers” in one great family with whom it is a pleasure as well as obligation to share the fruits of one’s hands—the gifts of kind old Nakomis, the Earth Mother.

“Of course I do not claim these Indians [45] to be a perfect people, for they too re subject to all the inherent traits and passions of mankind. Yet their sustained attitude of communal helpfulness, of actually wanting to help each other, has stimulated each individual with a spiritual enthusiasm to serve for the good of all—the spontaneous unselfish impulse to serve, until in time it has become a communal, a tribal, trait; an ingrained life-purpose, a popular pursuit, a spiritual intent—a religion as it were, whereby with leisurely effort all have an ample sufficiency for their daily needs with an abundance of extra time to devote to other pursuits, pastimes and pleasures in the way of craft-work, dramatics, dancing and singing, each one following out his own inclinations in the quest of happiness through self-expression—as well as the laudable desire of each one to follow up some especially congenial task on which to work so seemingly slow—for there being no incentive of money-gain and time being of no importance—each task becomes a lengthened out labor of love and the result—the leisurely best effort and personality, or individuality, of the artist woven into his work. Thus their standard of artistic merit is, how much patient love and unselfish service can be merged into the task, thereby evincing the artist’s best-self in his work; thus their work became individualistic and consequently full of “individual Charm”.

“While spiritually the Indian claims that the Great Spirit or Maker of All Things made everything for a purpose, and each and every thing with an inner urge to serve that purpose to the best of its limitations, and in so doing is entitled to the [46] spiritual awards for good or faithful service which includes further opportunity for greater service—for the joy of unselfish service makes of service a spiritual privilege.

“The leaves which for a season serve as lungs for the tree, in time finally fall to the ground to be transmuted through the soil into “feeders” for the roots---thus reenergizing the tree and rising as life-giving sap to burgeon forth into more leaves. This gives the Indian a self-evident glimpse of one small cycle of service; he also observes that in the final death of the tree it too merges through soil-action into other trees—which though their leaves, flowers and fruits be different their cycle of service is largely the same. He also knows that as a father is pleased with the dutiful service of his child, so the Great Spirit, who is indeed a father to all his red children, must smile with loving approval on their acts of unselfish service.

“Note for instance how zealously the uninformed Indian follows day by day those spiritual ideals expressed so beautifully in the divine beatitudes and sayings of our beloved Master, and observe how logically they illustrate reactions of the Universal Spirit upon the righteous actions of universal man—divine blessings which seem to work automatically—as “like begets Like”; Mercy begets Mercy; Forgiveness, forgiveness. Likewise the Meek are those who are not contentious and so inherit temporal as well as spiritual peace.

“Blessed also are the peace-makers for they are as children of the Great Spirit of All Pervading Good and therefore inheritors of Universal Peace. [47]

“Ye are the Salt of the Earth”—

A savor of good for others—a preserver of others—thereby fulfilling the chemical service of salt—giving forth its own strength for the preservation of others.

“But if the salt hath lost its savor”—its elemental goodness or unselfish impulse—to serve—it is thence “good for nothing but to be cast out and trodden under the foot of men.”

“In all likelihood this parable of the salt refers to the giving forth of our physical strength—the salty sweat of service in way of helpfulness—the sacrifice of self for the good of others in actually bearing the burdens of others. Tears also are as salt—the salty tears of Sympathy—

“’Ye are the light of the world’.”

Christ no doubt refers to that inner spiritual radiance that illuminates through the mind of man his power to brighten—to radiate the unselfish Impulse of Light—to burn with anxiety and solicitude for the good of others—to finally be consumed of the unselfish service “that others seeing thy good work may glorify thy Father in Heaven” who as the Source of all unselfishness gave all things for the Good of All Things—the unselfish impulse to serve all things therefore the Christ or Service Impulse made manifest through Service in all Things—for “All Things were made by Him and without Him was not anything made that was made” for He was one with God.”

Before entering upon these final deductions in summing up this Desert Quest, I wish to add my own tribute to that of Schleichers regarding our mutual friend Edgerton, the scientist. He certainly is the [48] loneliest most unselfishly sincere Truth Seeker I have ever known.

And yet for all his friendly helpfulness—a mysterious man seemingly set apart to ascertain at any cost the hidden Truth—he is not a contentious man in fact, one who though heroically devoted to scientific research, unconsciously reserves one portion of his mind as a little secret inner-room set aside for the first time being at least as a repository for his ingrained faith with which he does not even try to reconcile his scientific findings—purposely keeping the two apart. Not being contentious he sees no reason to contend for scientific truth, on one hand nor spiritual faith on the other.

Neither have I ever heard him denounce or ridicule another man’s theory or faith, his idea being “denunciation is not proof—Truth does not need it, and Faith is above it.”

I also wish to register herewith this confession—which forced itself upon me last night out beneath the inquisitive desert stars—that my life with all its chasing after needless millions has been more or less a misguided mess of wasted energy. It is true there is the Blanchard Foundation with its ever increasing benefactions which I feel is at least a partial restitution, and which as the “vox-populi profundi” of our publicity organ, is heard the world around. Nevertheless something seems to be missing in our cleverly arranged program; with all our mass-motion and vast production something still seems lacking. Can it be the “motive” back of it all?

Verily it seems so, and yet with all our splendid enthusiasm, tireless energy, cock-sure “efficiency” and clever psycho-analysis [49] poured so lavishly into the crucible of life, it has produced nothing more than innumerable ingots of steel. Can material restitution compensate a man for robbing him of his spiritual birthright, namely his “individual task”, that which he alone can perform even as the Indian basket-weaver crooning happily while working out his own individual design “so slow it seems but idleness” and yet the product of his very soul.

May not we vain exploiters of men cripple ourselves in the selfish exploitation of others? The masterpiece I might have painted, the song you might have sung—and the happy helpful lives we might have lived while making fewer but better things.

Yes Phil, down here in the desert I have had the time, opportunity and distance, in which to gain a truer perspective on things.

I thank God from the bottom of my heart there is still one spot on earth, not yet reached by the I.S.A. of the U.S.A. When I see this happy contented people, living from day to day their serenely grateful lives of communal helpfulness as well as individual self-expression in leisurely love-made hand-craft, I am compelled to consider my own world-famed efficiency as “tinkling brass and a sounding cymbal”. Of course the Machine is already constructed—an established institution—and running smoothly with its thousands upon thousands of human cogs—case-hardened steel and I for one dread to think what might happen should it suddenly be stopped. Thus from one fear to another competition speeds us rashly on, gaining mass momentum, ‘til even I, builder of the Machine dread the consequences. [50]

On the theory of eliminating all seeming non-essentials from a problem before attempting its final solution, (a life-long practice in all my practical so-called successful business ventures) I have approached this most important of all problems. One on which the very soul of man leans for support. The elemental, fundamental and universal meaning of this phenomenon of spirit and matter, which we call Life.

This is from the original copy of Evolove. Interestingly, the tower and ranch were purchased by Wheaton College, perhaps with the intention of creating a Christian retreat center. It is now owned privately, and just behind the “Taosurfer Ranch.” Som… — This is from the original copy of Evolove. Interestingly, the tower and ranch were purchased by Wheaton College, perhaps with the intention of creating a Christian retreat center. It is now owned privately, and just behind the “Taosurfer Ranch.” Some of the homestead eventually went to a very cool hippie family who lived for a time in teepees.

Naturally, we must begin with the savage or natural man as we find him untrammeled with that mass of materialized conjecture and self-aggrandizement which the world calls “civilization”. In him we invariably find a creature evincing at least some inherent traits of a divine Creator—animated by an inner urge or Soul, groping as a grain of wheat seeking the light, giving forth unceasingly of its inner urge toward some ever-present universal need.

Through his own inherent urge, primitive man naturally conceived of a primal or universal urge—a Creator—who of Himself created All things for the Good of All Things (as evinced in the ever-open book of Nature). Wherein soil ministers to plant-life, which in turn to return through cycles of never ending Service to the Earth Mother. And how natural that man, cognizant of that divine inner urge should at times respond to its spiritual unselfish Impulse, and in so doing experience that ever-attendant peace which naturally follows an expression of the unselfish Impulse.

How natural for him to realize from this divine experience some spiritual kinship with the mysterious force that rules [51] through nature.

That Man is one with the Immortal Spirit that pervades all things and consequently heir to that immortality of the Spirit, which was before all things, and will survive all things in some spiritual urge beyond this temporal life in a Spirit Land, or as he likes to term it, “The Happy Hunting Ground” is self-evident.

‘Twas thus the Indian developed those splendid traits of friendliness, hospitality and brotherhood which are to characteristic of the primitive man.

Property rights were unknown to the nomad. He had no need for hoarding, further than the fewest possible hand made utensils—the product of his leisure moments. Consequently greed and avarice offered no temptations to his simple needs.

Life was made up of unselfishly sharing Nature’s bounty, from day to day, with but little thought of the coming morrow. How unconsciously his daily round of experience and observation ripened into a life full of first-hand information; actual contact as it were with the essentials necessary to an unbiased solving of the riddle of Life—the spiritual brotherhood of All Things.

With what strange coincidence (other than the Universality of Universal Truth) did the Indian grasp those spiritual truths so kindred to the teachings of the Divine Master (who though unknown to them in the flesh) was spiritually revealed in every opening flower.

It seems the Indian not only grasped the idea of the inter-relation of Matter but also grasped the kindred idea of inter-related vibrations. Thus the drumming of [52] the pheasants’ wings starting up a kindred vibration in the heart of Man—the call of the coyote, the moan of the wood-dove, the joy of the brook—each and all direct nature vibrations registering sound, each with its special appeal to the ear, the mind, or to kindred emotions of the heart. The sounds forming mental pictures as it were. Thus all their music was born of nature sounds—emphasized as in Nature by reiteration. their chants and tom-toms were supposed to gain in volume, and appeal through reiteration, the sound waves increasing with the fervor of that which produced them.

So the inanimate tom-tom gained a spirit voice, and was accredited with the power and right to talk—at least as an interpreter of the Thunder Gods. The Indian being a close observer of Nature (each sound visualized perfectly, each shading being full of meaning) naturally we find in him a perfect type of the natural or Nature Man, endowed with a perfect physique, an alert brain, a keen perception of each and every passing phase of Nature; in fact an inveterate tireless, enthusiastic student of Life’s daily practical contacts with Nature, what wonder is it that he should prove to be the first investigator—the primitive scientists, seer, poet, musician, and seeker into spiritual sequence of things about him.

How was it possible that he should grasp (even by mere conjecture) those universal truths, which even modern science with all its schools, libraries, and laboratories are still wrangling over?

If the Indian conjectured a theory that worked out harmoniously, and convincingly to his mind, a thoroughly satisfactory [53] solution to the meaning of Life—the interrelation of Matter and Spirit, what have our own scientists, with their test-tubes, calipers, and conflicting theories, more to offer?

If the Indian finds harmony and happiness in his conjecture that is more than we have attained to.

When, as with Schleicher, we compare these poor Indians with that divine standard—the Golden Rule—as laid down in the Sermon on the Mount, how completely they measure up to its blessed promises. A people who though poor in material things, are rich in spiritual harmony. A people who though like all mortals acquainted with sickness, sorrow, and death, yet are comforted of their faith in the Spirit of All Pervading Good. A people meek and lowly, yet rich in their close contact with mother Earth. A people who have verily hungered for a closer knowledge and kinship with the Spirit, and are thereby filled with the Spirit. A merciful people begetting Mercy, inheriting Mercy. A people “pure in heart” who see good in all things. A people who as makers of peace have become in truth children of good. A people, who though subject to passion and doubt (as all men are) yet having overcome all, through the Unselfish Impulse to serve, have entered into that haven of Spiritual Harmony—that serenity of Peace with All Things.

Therefore, though ignorant heathen, are they not Children of God and in a large way entitled to the Divine Beatitudes of our Blessed Master?

After dismissing the primitive myths of the Indian—the high-brow pretentions of [54] Science—the superfluities of the Church—and the organized selfishness of Civilization, we still have a wholesome sufficiency on which to reason out a correlation of ideas and ideals.

The Indian’s conception of the inter-relation of all Matter through the Service Spirit of Primal purpose pervading all Matter—the clod, the grass, the star, the sun and the heart of man—seems logical and all comprehensive; Science on the other hand concedes only the material inter-relation of all Matter through the Ninety-two elements constituting Matter. Science also concedes the radio activity—the “giving forth” of all Matter through the ceaseless evolving protonic impulse of the atom.

While Christ who was the Spirit of God made manifest in the flesh tells us we are one with the salt of the Earth—the light of the world and children of the Spirit. We have seen how the Indian’s faith brings him a life of happy helpful service and attendant contentment while the Scientist—probably the most unselfish of all men—whose life of self-denial and sacrifice is an eloquent refutation of his so called barren faith—is more or less a discontented soul.

In trying to harmonize the Indian’s, Scientist’s, and Evangelist’s view-point let us concentrate on the fewest possible points of contact—enlarging on them as we delve deeper into the subject.

Thus the Indian claims that the Great Spirit of All Pervading Good permeates all Matter with the spirit urge of the Primal Purpose, endowing all Matter—obligating all Matter—with sufficient urge of service to accomplish the Primal Purpose. [55]

Thus we have the Indian and the evangelist agreeing—there is an inter-relation of urges running through all Matter—ever giving forth within—outward for some primal purpose to serve final purpose through the urge of purpose, revealed to the Indian as the service impulse of the Great Spirit, energizing, enlivening all Matter.

To the scientist the universal urge is the Radio-active impulse of atomic power constituting all Matter, while to the evangelist the universal urge is the Christ Spirit of Unselfish service glorifying the purpose of God—the Source of All Good. Thus the evangelist and the Indian practically coincide on the spiritual urge in Matter—while the scientist considers the universal urge merely as a mechanical manifestation of Matter.

Let us now investigate more closely this purely physical conception of Matter to see if we can in any reasonable way harmonize its urge with that of the spirit.

One of the handwritten pages of Frazee’s poem, transcribed below.

As science only deals with matter let us examine more closely with sympathetic spiritual “sight” as it were, into the actual workings of the atom to see if we can find any analogy between the “inner urge” of Nature, the inner radio-active force of science and the inner impulse of the Spirit. First then let us consider the fact that Science concedes the inter-relation of all Matter through the ninety-two elements constituting Matter. Further that all Matter is atomic—that all atoms are miniature universes, in each of which is a central sun or nucleus evolving radiant energy and light—that Matter is the energized residue of “electronic” motion evolving from the [56]

spontaneous explosions or impulses of the nucleus or central sun of that miniature universe which constitutes the atom of which all forms are made.

This mysterious evolving impulse ever giving forth unreservedly of itself ever giving forth unreservedly of itself in spontaneous radiations of light, heat and energy. A power misnamed “electronic” in honor of the mythical Goddess “Electra” so-called to designate that miracle working Impulse which still lies beyond the comprehension of Science and yet a word which the thoughtless throng glibly dubs “juice” or “current” until it has lost its primal mysterious meaning—becoming instead a shibboleth of Trade. Even so the beautiful word “love” which through careless usage has become debased into a synonym for passion, desire, selfishness and lust. Likewise the word Evolution through being bandied about by the thoughtless mob has eventually lost its former eloquent meaning.

Then in lieu of this mythical meaning-less term let us submit a freshly coined word of scientific meaning—the expressive word, e-vol-ove, suggesting that evolutionary force which evolves from within—out through all Matter.

Then let us consider this spontaneous evolving radio-active mysterious e-vo-love.

First from the view-point of the scientist—who concedes that Matter emerges from motion—the e-vol-ove spontaneously evolving its radio-active inner impulses—is emissions of energy and light.

For is not the ever radiant E-vol-ovE a pulsation of Primal Purpose—that inner urge of divine unselfishness which permeates all Matter—Endowing all things [57] with miracle-working Impulse—yea the Christ-Impulse of Service. Thus we find in this phenomena of energy a marvelous manifestation of spontaneous self-giving power—miraculously renewed through its ceaseless giving of self to serve some outer good.

And so even in an atom we realize a complete carrying out of the mysterious miracle—working e-vol-ove. A logical demonstration of moral purpose or good intent along mechanical lines of least resistance, each atom being endowed with the dynamic urge of Primal Purpose fulfilling through radiation its obligation of unselfish service.

Thus through e-vol-ove do we realize, measure, gauge and demonstrate through the mechanical action of directional effort a moral tendency or gesture of giving forth unreservedly of self in a plan divinely consistent with the actual working of the God Intent—the divine unselfish Primal Purpose testing all by the unselfish Impulse to serve—to give forth radiantly, ungrudgingly, unreservedly, yea unselfishly, that divine endowment of unselfish purpose—even to the final disintegration of material form in merging into other evolutions of the spirit.

Thus we see that while science confines herself solely to the investigation of material fact ignoring the Spirit as being immaterial, irrelevant and unethical, nevertheless with her test-tubes, calipers and blind devotions to Service—she too seems to be proselyting for the Spirit.

If the Sermon on the Mount is the true Standard of Spiritual Efficiency, whereby we must measure all spiritual values, then [58] through this standard we should be able to isolate its inherent “unit of the Spirit” even as science hath done for Matter.

If successful this “unit of the Spirit” should prove to be the final test of all spirit, even of God Himself. This we find in the unselfish Impulse that final proof of primal goodness—the giving of self for others. Even the scientist (through unselfish devotion to his work in the interest of benefiting mankind in general) demonstrates in practice at least the unselfish service impulse.

The Indian believes in it as a revelation of Nature and naturally lives it, while the so-called Christian believes in it as a matter of faith, preaches it, and occasionally follows it. Thus we see that science religion, and Nature, coincide on the fundamental importance of the Unselfish Service Impulse, in solving Man’s obligation to his Maker. To the Spirit of All Pervading Good, the divine “Ev-voL-ovE” or evolving Love. Yea, the Source of All Unselfishness—the Good or God of all things. Even in an atom we find the divine Purpose of God made manifest through the Christ Impulse of Service—ever-giving forth so harmoniously as to be One with the Attendant Spirit of Peace. Thus in the miniature Universe of an Atom we have a miraculous manifestation of the FATHER, THE SON and the SPIRIT. They being One in the SPIRIT of UNSELFISH SERVICE, for “without Him was nothing made that was made”. The Unselfish Impulse—in your heart and mine.

The End.

III. CREATION, ITS CREATOR

The following is a seemingly unfinished poem related to the concept of Evolove, found in the special collections of the University of California, Irvine.

CREATION, ITS CREATOR

Creation, its Creator

doth proclaim—

The source from whence

all things created came—

The Primal Impulse

of Unselfishness,

The Good or God in all

one and the same.

Thus the Creator

is not God alone.

He is the Good in all,

e’en leaf and stone.

Verily, The Source

the Force, “e-vol-ove”

From whence the Good

in all, the all in one.

Then from the rock’s disintegrating dust,

A shoot of pulsing living green was thrust.

Twas thus the lichens

grasses, shrubs and trees

Radiently responded to their Trust.

And then from out

the barren rock grown green,

A miracle of animated life was seen

To rise, to reach,

meander here and there,

And e’en observe their

kind with interest keen.

Yet could we, with

microscopic vision, trace

The various atoms

adrift in space,

Each would seem an infantismal world

Circling within its

own predestined place

And, lo, a godlike brute,

that upright stands,

And fashioneth things

with dexterous hands,

Ever and anon looking

anxiously to

The stars, meditates,

implores, demands.

The sky is God’s great,

inverted mixing bowl

Thro’ which elemental

ingredients roll,

All leavened with the

impulse of God Intent

The mirac’lous evolove

of the soul.

And tho’ we may not

hear the rumbling sound

Of the mill-stones on

their eternal round,

This much we know,

for purposes divine,

Yea, for loaf of Service

the grist is ground

The mills of God, they

grind exceeding slow,

And, yet, how fine

the grists of stardust show.

Still doubt ye not,

nor ask ye why,

Save only this, tis

Service will it so.

And as the spinning

top, atilting stands,

Yet, sways obedient

to the spinners hands,

E’en so, methinks, our

little reeling earth

In some way compre

-hends divine commands.

And lo, the temple veil

is rent in twain,

Till e’en with spirit-sight,

we see again

The Mystery of

Mysteries revealed,

Yea, e’en the primal

plan of God, made plain

For as desert silences

are harmonies

Of seeming stillness,

subdued to perfect peace,

So the melodies of swirling spheres

Are all atuned to

heaven’s accordant keyes.

The long delayed drip,

drip from clouds above,

And sad reitteations

of the dove,

Are ever to the

lone, lean, thirsty land,

Varrying voices of

Sympathy and Love.

One loitering at Death’s

door, did whisper me

This much, of that

dark inner mystery,

“Listen brother,

Death is a cruciable,

Life the golden

opportunity.”

For when, froumout their

sepulchers of sleep,

The timerous souls of

rest-freed mortals creep,

Each from his narrow,

lonely, cell to breathe

Those tender secrets,

too divine to keep

Subconsciously, as

in dreams, one hears.

Heavenly harmonies

of swirling spheres,

And the onrush of

wings invisable,

Yea, sounds, unlawful

for our earthly ears.

Atomic amities,

cohesive clays,

And ductal metals,

from the friendly blaze,

All to form the cup

of loving Service

A draught of sharing

for the desert ways

Behold hath not the

ancient alchemist

Of Love called forth

to coale tryst

All the elemental

affinities

Fromout their star-

gemed halls of anic

[The poem ends abruptly here without punctuation.]

EVOLOVE: ISAAC FRAZEE ON SLOWING DOWN AND RETHINKING SPIRITUALITY, SCIENCE, AND CIVILIZATION

EVOLOVE