by Eliphas Levi
1 The instruction at this point is valuable as evidence that Lévi's magical properties are made up out of his own head. The androgyne of Khunrath is personal to that German Hermetist of the late sixteenth century and has no authority behind it, much less “the antique magnificences of the Secret Cultus of the Magi”. The androgyne is part of a design representing the Macrocosm in Khunrath's AMPHITHEATRUM SAPIENTIAE, already cited, and the operator would deserve commiseration who attempted to engrave it on the iron pedestal of a lamp.
1 With the elaborate procedure of this section it will be instructive to contrast the almost derisive qualifications and reductions of Le Grand Arcane. In connexion with the Hidden Mystery and pseudo-Incommunicable Secret of Magic, Éliphas Lévi has been reciting the meaning behind the Odyssey till he pictures his readers, or those among them who are addicted to tales of a tub, protesting that he has forgotten about Magic. “Are there no talismans, no herbs, no roots with which one can work wonders? Are there no mysterious formulae which open sealed doors and compel spirits to appear?” He replies by calling them children and reminding them that in his previous works he has recognized the relative efficacity of formulae, herbs and talismans. But these are petty procedures referable to the Lesser Mysteries; he is dealing now with great moral forces, not with material instruments, not with magnetic aids. Those who have recourse to Ceremonial Magic, those who consult soothsayers are like some others who hope to supplant true religion by multiplying devotional practices. They are comparable also to people who cherish a passion condemned by reason but which they prefer to reason. They have recourse therefore to irrational oracles, to derive hope therefrom, to still the voice of conscience and offer peace to the heart.— Loc. cit. p. 39.
CHAPTER VIII
A WARNING TO THE IMPRUDENT
THE operations of science are not devoid of danger, as we have stated several times. They may end in madness for those who are not established firmly on the basis of supreme, absolute and infallible reason. Terrible and incurable diseases can be occasioned by excessive nervous excitement. Swoons and death itself, as a consequence of cerebral con gestion, may result from imagination when it is impressed and terrified unduly. We cannot sufficiently dissuade nervous persons, and those who are naturally disposed to exaltation, women, young people and all who are not habituated in perfect self-control and command of fear. In the same way, there can be nothing more dangerous than to make Magic a pastime, or, as some do, part of an evening's entertainment. Even magnetic experiments, performed under such conditions, can only exhaust the subjects, mislead opinions and defeat science. The mysteries of life and death cannot be made sport of with impunity, and things which are to be taken seriously must be treated not only seriously but also with the greatest reserve. Never yield to the desire of convincing others by phenomena. The most astounding would prove nothing to those who are not convinced already. They can be attributed always to ordinary artifices and the Magus included among the more or less skilful followers of Robert Houdin or Hamilton. To require prodigies as a warrant for believing in science is to show one's self unworthy or incapable of science. SANCTA SANCTIS. Contemplate the twelfth figure of the Tarot-Keys, remember the grand symbol of Prometheus, and be silent. All those Magi who divulged their works died violently, and many were driven to suicide, like Cardan, Schroepffer, Cagliostro and others. The Magus should live in retirement and be approached with difficulty. Here is the import of the ninth Key of the Tarot, where the initiate appears as a hermit enveloped completely in his cloak. This notwithstanding, such retirement must not be one of isolation; attachments and friendships are necessary; but they must be chosen with care and preserved at all price. The Magus must have also another avocation than that of magician. Magic is not a trade.
In order to devote ourselves to Ceremonial Magic, we must be free from anxious preoccupations; we must be in a position to procure all instruments of the science and be able to make them when needed; we must possess, more over, an inaccessible laboratory, in which there will be no danger of being ever surprised or disturbed. Then, and this is an indispensable condition, we must know how to equilibrate forces and restrain the zeal of our own initiative. This is the meaning of the eighth Key of Hermes, wherein a woman is seated between two Pillars, with an upright sword in one hand and a balance in the other. To equilibrate forces they must be maintained simultaneously and caused to act alternately: the use of the balance represents this double action. The same arcanum is typified by the dual cross in the Pantacles of Pythagoras and Ezekiel: see the plate which appears at p. 161 in the “Doctrine”, where the crosses equilibrate each other and the planetary signs are in permanent opposition. Thus Venus is the equilibrium of the works of Mars; Mercury moderates and fulfils the operations of the Sun and Moon; Saturn balances Jupiter. It was by means of this antagonism between the ancient gods that Prometheus, that is to say, the genius of science, contrived to enter Olympus and carry off fire from heaven. Is it necessary to speak more clearly? The milder and calmer you are, the more effective will be your anger; the more energetic you are, the more valuable will be your forbearance; the more skilful you are, the better will you profit by your intelligence and even by your virtues; the more indifferent you are, the more easily will you make yourself loved. This is a matter of experience in the moral order, and is realized literally in the sphere of action. Human passions produce blindly the opposites of their unbridled desire, when they act without direction. Excessive love arouses antipathy; blind hate counteracts and scourges itself; vanity leads to abasement and the most cruel humilia tions. Thus, the Great Master revealed a mystery of positive magical science when He said: “Forgive your enemies, do good to those that hate you; so shall ye heap coals of fire upon their heads.” Perhaps this kind of pardon may seem hypocrisy and bear a strong likeness to refined vengeance. But we must remember that the Magus is sovereign, and a sovereign never avenges, because he has the right to punish; in the exercise of this right he performs his duty and is implacable as justice. Let it be observed, for the rest, so that no one may misinterpret my meaning, that it is a question of chastising evil by good and opposing mildness to violence. If the exercise of virtue be a flagellation for vice, no one has the right to demand that the latter should be spared, or that we should take pity on its shame and its sufferings.
The man who dedicates himself to works of science must take moderate daily exercise, abstain from prolonged vigils, and follow a wholesome and regular rule of life. He must avoid the effluvia of putrefaction, the neighbourhood of stagnant water and indigestible or impure food. Above all, he must seek daily relaxation from magical preoccupa tions amongst material cares, or in ordinary work, whether artistic, industrial or commercial. The way to see well is not to be always looking; and he who spends his whole life upon one object will end without attaining it. Another precaution must be observed equally, and that is never to experiment when ill.
The ceremonies being, as we have said, artificial methods for creating a habit of will, become unnecessary when the habit is confirmed. It is in this sense, and addressing himself solely to perfect adepts, that Paracelsus proscribes cere monial work in his Occult Philosophy. But procedure must be simplified progressively before it is dispensed with altogether, in proportion to the experience we obtain in acquired powers, and established habit in the exercise of extra-natural will.
CHAPTER IX
THE CEREMONIAL OF INITIATES
THE science is preserved by silence and perpetuated by initiation. The law of silence is not therefore absolute and inviolable, except relatively to the uninitiated multitude. Such knowledge can be only transmitted by speech. The sages therefore must speak occasionally. Yes, they must speak, not, however, to disclose, but lead others to discover. Noli ire, fac venire, was the device of Rabelais, who, being master of all the sciences of his time, could not be unacquainted with Magic. We have, consequently, to reveal here the mysteries of initiation. The destiny of man, as we have said, is to make or create himself; he
is and he will be the son of his works, both for time and eternity. All men are called into the lists, but the number of the elect —that is, of those who succeed—is invariably small. In other words, the men who are desirous to attain are num bered by multitudes, but the chosen are few. Now, the government of the world belongs by right to the flower of mankind, and when any combination or usurpation prevents their possessing it, a political or social cataclysm ensues. Men who are masters of themselves become easily masters of others; but it is possible for them to hinder one another if they disregard the laws of discipline and of the universal hierarchy.1 To be subjects of a discipline in common, there must be a community of ideas and desires, and such a communion cannot be attained except by a common religion established on the very foundations of intelligence and reason. This religion has existed always in the world, and is that only which can be called one, infallible, indefectible and veritably catholic—that is, universal. This religion, of which all others have been successively the veils and shadows, is that which demonstrates being by being, truth by reason, reason by evidence and common sense. It is that which proves by realities the reasonable basis of hypotheses, and forbids reasoning upon hypotheses independently of realities.1 It is that which is grounded on the doctrine of universal analogies but never confounds the things of science with those of faith. It can never be of faith that two and one make more or less than three; that in physics the contained can exceed the container; that a solid body, as such, can act like a fluidic or gaseous body; that, for example, a human body can pass through a closed door without dissolution or opening. To say that one believes such a thing is to talk like a child or a fool; yet it is no less insensate to define the unknown and to argue from hypothesis to hypothesis, till we come to deny evidence a priori for the affirmation of precipitate suppositions. The wise man affirms what he knows and believes in what he does not know only in proportion to the reasonable and known necessities of hypothesis.
But this reasonable religion is unadapted for the multitude; fables, mysteries, definite hopes and terrors having a physical basis, are needful for these. It is for this reason that the priesthood has been established in the world. Now, the priesthood is recruited by initiation. Religious forms perish when initiation ceases in the sanctuary, whether by the betrayal of the Mysteries or by their neglect and oblivion. The Gnostic disclosures, for example, alienated the Christian Church from the high truths of the Kabalah, which contains all secrets of transcendental theology. Hence the blind, having become leaders of the blind, great obscurities, great lapses and deplorable scandals have followed. Subsequently, the sacred books, of which the keys are all kabalistic from Genesis to the Apocalypse, have become so little intelligible to Christians, that prudent pastors have judged it necessary to forbid them being read by the uninstructed among believers. Taken literally and understood materially, such books could be only an inconceivable tissue of absurdities and scandals, as the school of Voltaire has demonstrated but too well. It is the same with all the ancient dogmas, the brilliant theogonies and poetic legends. To say that ancient Greece believed in the love-adventures of Jupiter, or that Egypt worshipped the cynocephalus and sparrow-hawk, is to exhibit as much ignorance and bad faith as would be shown by maintaining that Christians adore a triple God, composed of an old man, an executed criminal and a dove. The ignorance of symbols is invariably calumnious. For this reason we should be on our guard first and foremost against the derision of that which we do not know, when its enunciation seems to involve some absurdity or even singularity, as a course no less wanting in good sense than to admit the same without discussion and examination.
Prior to anything which may please or displease ourselves, there is a truth—that is to say, a reason—and by this reason must our actions be regulated rather than by our desires, if we would create that intelligence within us which is the raison d'être of immortality, and that justice which is the law thereof. A man who is truly man can will only that which he should reasonably and justly do; so also he silences lusts and fears, that he may hearken solely to reason. Now, such a man is a natural king and a voluntary priest for erring multitudes. Hence it was that the end of the old initiations was termed indifferently the Sacerdotal Art and the Royal Art. The antique magical associations were seminaries for priests and kings, and admission could be obtained only by truly sacerdotal and royal works—that is, by transcending all weakness of Nature. We will not repeat here what is found everywhere concerning Egyptian Initiations, perpetuated, but with diminished power, in the Secret Societies of the Middle Ages. Christian radicalism, founded upon a false understanding of the words: “Ye have one father, one master, and ye are all brethren,” dealt a terrible blow at the sacred hierarchy. Since that time, sacerdotal dignities have become a matter of intrigue or of chance; energetic mediocrity has managed to supplant modest superiority, misunderstood because of its modesty. Yet, and notwithstanding, initiation being an essential law of religious life, a society which is instinctively magical formed at the decline of the pontifical power and speedily concentrated in itself alone the whole strength of Christianity, because, though it only understood vaguely, it exercised positively the hierarchic power by recourse to the ordeals of initiation and the omnipotence of faith in passive obedience.
What, in fact, did the candidate in the old initiations? He abandoned his life and liberty entirely to the masters of the temples of Thebes or Memphis; he advanced resolutely through unnumbered terrors, which might have led him to imagine that there was a premeditated outrage intended against him; he ascended funeral pyres, swam torrents of black and raging water, hung by unknown see-saws over unfathomed precipices. . . . Was not this blind obedience in the full force of the term? Is it not the most absolute exercise of liberty to abjure liberty for a time so that we may attain emancipation? Now, this is precisely what must be done, and what has been done invariably, by those who aspire to the SANCTUM REGNUM of magical omnipotence. The disciples of Pythagoras condemned themselves to inexorable silence for many years; even the sectaries of Epicurus comprehended the sovereignty of pleasure only by the acquisition of sobriety and calculated temperance. Life is a warfare in which we must give proofs if we would advance; power does not surrender of itself; it must be seized.
Initiation by contest and ordeal is therefore indispensable for the attainment of the practical science of Magic. We have indicated after what manner the four elementary forms may be vanquished and will not repeat it here; we refer those of our readers who would inquire into the ceremonies of ancient initiations to the works of Baron Tschoudy, author of the Blazing Star, Adonhiramite Masonry and some other most valuable masonic treatises.1
We must insist, however, upon one reflection, namely, that the intellectual and social chaos in the midst of which we are perishing has been caused by the neglect of initiation, its ordeals and its mysteries. Men, whose zeal was greater than their science, carried away by the popular maxims of the Gospel, came to believe in the primitive and absolute equality of men. A famous halluciné, the eloquent and unfor tunate Rousseau, propagated with all the magic of his style the paradox that society alone depraves men—much as if he had said that competition and emulation in labour render workmen idle. The essential law of Nature, that of initiation by effort and of voluntary and toilsome progress, has been misconstrued fatally. Masonry has had its deserters, as Catholicism its apostates. What has been the consequence? The substitution of a cast-iron level for the intellectual and symbolical level. To preach equality to what is beneath, without instructing it how to rise upward, is not this condemning us to descend ourselves? And hence we have stooped to the reign of the Carmagnola, the Sanscullotes and Marat. To restore tottering and distracted society, the hierarchy and initiation must be again established. The task is difficult, but the whole intelligent world feels that it is necessary to undertake it. Must we pass through another deluge before succeeding? We trust earnestly not, and this book, perhaps the greatest but not the last of our audacities, is an appeal u
nto all that is yet alive for the reconstitution of life in the very midst of decomposition and death.
1 It is said otherwise that the initiate respects the hierarchy before all things, that he loves and maintains order, that he respects all sincere beliefs, that he cherishes every mark of immortality in faith and of redemption by charity, which is synonymous with discipline and obedience.—La Clef des Grands Mystères, p. 242.
1 Compare Les Portes de l'Avenir, lxxiv: “Religion is the poetry of humanity and poetry is the fabled realization of dreams which cannot be known or invented.”
1 Baron Tschoudy wrote L'Étoile Flamboyante, which appeared in 1766 and went on through several editions, but the treatise on Adonhiramite Masonry was the work of Guillemain de Saint-Victor. Vide: Recueil Précieux de la Franc Maçonnerie Adonhiramique, 1783.
CHAPTER X
THE KEY OF OCCULTISM
LET us now examine the question of Pantacles, for all magical virtue is there, since the secret of force is in the intelligence which directs. We have given the symbol and interpretation of the Pantacles of Pythagoras and Ezekiel, so that we have no need to recur to these; we shall prove in a later chapter that all the instruments of Hebrew worship were Pantacles, and the first and final word of the Bible was graven by Moses in gold and in brass on the tabernacle and on all its accessories. But each Magus can and should have his individual Pantacle, for, understood accurately, a Pantacle is the perfect summary of a mind. Hence we find in the Magical Calendars of Tycho Brahe and Duchentau, the Pantacles of Adam, Job, Jeremiah, Isaiah, and of all the other great prophets who have been, each in his turn, the kings of the Kabalah and the grand rabbins of science.
