Master of the Mysteries. Louis Sahagun

forces. Some perceived them to be undermining traditional faiths.

      On March 18, 1922, the day Hall turned 21, the Los Angeles Times’ front page featured a story about a Philadelphia psychologist who had proved that an episode of spirit knockings and ghostly visions had been a fraud. Yet, inside the same issue, the religion page carried advertisements by the United Lodge of Theosophists, which had scheduled a lecture on “states after death,” and Hall’s Church of the People, which offered a talk called “The Religion of H.G. Wells.”

      A few months later, The Times printed a front-page story about a trend-setting “all-night psychic pharmacy” in Chicago operated by three shifts of “love healers,” a lengthy book review of Maurice Maeterlinck’s compendium of enduring doctrines titled The Great Secret, and an above-the-fold news column called “Your Hidden Powers,” which claimed, “There is a purpose in every man. In each there is a seed, the seed of the soul. . . We water it with sweat and tears, around it we fertilize it with our agonies, our joys and our struggles. . . and we are not unaided. Nature helps us. In the conscience of every man there is a guidance.”

      Hall entranced his Church of the People audiences with folksy interpretations of Pythagoras, Confucius, Lao-Tsu, Buddha, Plato, Jesus Christ, St. Paul, Moses ben Maimonides, St. Thomas Aquinas, Immanuel Kant, Baron Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibnitz, William James, and Herbert Spencer, as well as of such obscure 19th-century writers on the occult as Albert Churchward, Arthur Dyott Thomson, Charles William Heckethorn and Arthur Edward Waite. The turn-of-the-century works of Irish biblical archeologist Elizabeth Anna Gordon inspired lectures on the religious traditions of Japan.

      “It soon became clear,” Hall wrote years later, “that almost every problem brought to me in the course of a day or a month or a year had been handled by someone long ago. . . So it was very much safer for a novice like me to quote somebody who seemed to know, than to quote myself and realize that I didn’t know. For me it was just guesswork, but Confucius had worked it out.”

      On March 17, 1923, Hall was ordained a minister in the Church of the People. [25] A few days later, he was elected permanent pastor of the church, and the congregation honored him with a Rosicrucian-style cross that was based on a design of his own and made of diamonds, platinum, gold and white enamel. Etched with emblems and symbols of astrology and ancient religious schools, it represented the ideals shared by all spiritual quests. Dangling from a chain around his neck, Hall proudly wore the flashy fist-sized cross as a symbol of spiritual authority in a state where alternative spiritual movements were becoming significant cultural forces.

      The belief in reincarnation had become especially popular. One day around this time, Hall met an old chum on the street and noticed a large book under his arm. “What are you reading today?” Hall asked. With a twinkle in his eye, Hall’s friend answered, “First-year Spanish. I don’t expect to learn much of the language now, but I figure it will be more popular when I come back next time, so I might as well get a little start.”

      Even flamboyant holy roller Aimie Semple MacPherson, who arrived in Los Angeles in 1918, was milquetoast compared to others setting up religious shops in town.

      Hall kept track of the competition by collecting the advertisements they posted in local newspapers and magazines.

      Dr. Nephi Cottam pitched “the great discovery of the new age, Craniopathy.” Manneck of India promised “triumph through the wheels of adversity.” Mystic Edwin J. Dingle, founder of the still-active Institute for Mentalphysics in the desert community of Joshua Tree, exhorted, “you, too, can have lots of pull!”

      Charles Robert Wilson concluded his lectures on “esoteric meditation” with astrological forecasts for the week to come. The National Academy of Metaphysics offered courses on “ancient teachings modernized.”

      Crystal-gazer Princess Zoraida, smiling seductively under a turban studded with rhinestones and baubles, taught the “cult of Ptah.” Pneumandros, a spiritualist who called himself “The Spirit Man,” offered a $5,000 reward to anyone who could prove his healing powers were fraudulent. Pyramidologist Prof. J.W. Parker claimed to have proof that the Great Pyramid of Egypt was “the Bible in stone.”

      George Terry billed himself as the “pre-ordained, foreordained, predestinated Prince of Destiny, luminary mandate of imperial pre-eminence, Israel, seventh son of Melchizedek, hierophant of the universe.”

      Then there was Hall’s friend, Count Louis Harmon, better known in his day as “Cheiro,” who believed a person’s character is revealed in the lines of the palms and feet, and in the general shape of the hand, foot and toes. Cheiro, who owned two newspapers, was a tall, handsome, beefy man with influential friends, a cheery smile, a rich Irish brogue, and a reputation for entertaining extravagantly. Among those Cheiro claimed sought his private counsel to get clearer insights into their futures were England’s Edward VII, Samuel Goldwyn, Oscar Wilde, poet Ella Wheeler Wilcox and actress Mary Pickford. Madame Blavatsky wanted him to join her Theosophical Society, he bragged. [26]

      Cheiro, who died at age 70 in Hollywood, cast the horoscopes of nations and issued predictions, many of which later proved wildly off-base. He predicted a “war of wars” would break out around 1940 “when Israelites and their coworkers in Palestine open up Egypt, with its vast resources.” This, he said, “would arouse antagonism from the followers of Islam, and Turkey, backed by Russia, will endeavor to recapture Palestine.” [27]

      Germany and England, he said, would eventually become allies and pour immense numbers of troops into Palestine and Egypt against Russia and Turkey.

      Self-taught practical philosopher Ernest Holmes represented a Los Angeles-based religious empire spawned by his own wholesome brand of positive thinking for success on Earth and the hereafter.

      Elsewhere in California, Theosophist Katherine Tingley was the “Purple Mother” of a community of three hundred residents at the Point Loma promontory west of San Diego. H. Spencer Lewis of New Jersey helped establish the Ancient and Mystical Order of the Rosy Cross center in San Jose, where some initiates tried to turn lead into gold in elaborate alchemical laboratories.

      The New Thought faith healing movement, borne in the late 19th century, spun off dozens of influential ministries that mixed traditional Christian religion with metaphysical principles. It taught the use of positive affirmations: If you want to be rich, you need only to think rich. If you want to be beautiful you should realize you already are and just haven’t noticed it yet.

      Frederick Bailes, in his book Hidden Powers for Human Problems, promised “with complete faith, I can make this statement: If you practice the principles of the creative process as set forth in the following pages you will see and feel a new force in your life within seven days.” [28] Anthony Norvell claimed to have personally “investigated the lives of geniuses, millionaires, titans of industry, writers, composers, bankers, financiers, actors and producers to come up with the million-dollar secret,” available for a small gift of love at the lectures he gave at rented movie theaters across the city. Similarly, Neville Goddard, who always appeared on stage wearing pure white suits, taught thousands of followers in Los Angeles “the miracle of imagination.” Trouble is, Hall wryly noted, “Everyone thought rich, and teachers of the doctrine prospered.” [29]

      “Self-appointed teachers arose without adequate backgrounds, knowledge, or credentials, and swept through the nation,” Hall wrote years later. “It is entirely wrong to assume that this was a West Coast phenomenon.