by Eliphas Levi
1 It came about that at a later period Éliphas Lévi found it advisable to elucidate this statement, because he had been accused of worshipping the chemical principle called azotic gas. He pointed out therefore that AZOTH was a term used by the learned initiate Basil Valentine to signify the Universal Agent, otherwise Astral Light. It is composed of the first and last letter in the Hebrew, Greek and Latin alphabets. It symbolizes therefore beginning and end, the Absolute in the three worlds. Above science it is God; in Kabalistic philosophy it is the Absolute; in occult physics it is the Universal Agent. The word Azoth expresses therefore three things: (1) The Divine Hypothesis; (2) Philosophical Synthesis; (3) Physical Synthesis—in other words, a belief, an idea and a force. If Lévi, however, is relieved of one absurdity, he assumes another, for he is open to the charge of regarding the Astral Light as God. See La Science des Esprits, pp. 2, 3.
1 “The Grand Word of the enigma of the Spinx is God in Man and in Nature.”—Le Grand Arcane, p. 230.
1 “The science of signs begins with the science of letters. Letters are absolute ideas; absolute ideas are numbers; numbers are perfect signs. By combining ideas with numbers we can operate on the former as on the latter and arrive at the mathematics of truth. The Tarot is the key of letters and numbers; the thirty-six talismans are the key of the Tarot. The test which explains talismans, letters, numbers and the Tarot is the Sepher Yetzirah.”—Correspondence with Baron Spédalieri, No. 7.
2 The ZOHAR was available to Lévi only in scattered fragments and very imperfect descriptions. No account of Kabalism could be more egregiously irrelevant than that of the text above, and as regards post-Zoharic forms, which drew from this source, we have only to consult the Apparatus of Knorr von Rosenroth and the tracts of Isaac de Loria or Moses of Cordova, which follow in the same collection, to estimate the validity of a judgement which testifise to its philosophical simplicity and its luminous theorems.
1 It is not to be supposed that the Talmud per se would have appealed to a mind like that of Éliphas Lévi any more than Leviticus; it is not to be supposed that he had any real knowledge concerning it: in his only account of its content, his mistakes are egregious. He calls the Mishna the Talmud of Jerusalem and identifies the Babylonian Talmud with the two Ghemaras. But the work as a whole rests, in his opinion, on “the great and immutable truths of the Sacred Kabalah”. It does nothing of the kind, for the Secret Tradition in Israel is much later than Talmudic literature. Those who compiled the latter are distinguished by Lévi into three arbitrary classes: (i) the initiates; (2) their vulgar disciples; (3) blind preservers of texts, the absolute value of which they did not know. Lévi's sense of evidence emerges in the manner that might be expected. “If the Talmud had not been originally” the work of initiates, that is to say, “the great Kabalistic Key of Judaism, its existence and the traditional veneration of which it is the object, would be incomprehensible”. He adds: “We know, moreover, that the body of this occult philosophy is positively what all serious initiates have considered the harmony of the Kabalah.” But a writer who terms the Talmud philosophy—occult or otherwise—has certainly not read the Talmud, and as regards the “serious initiates” he quotes no names, for the reason that there are none to quote: no one before Levi, as indeed no one since, ever dreamed of regarding the Talmud as a harmony of Kabalism. Those who believe in the antiquity of the Secret Tradition in Israel account as they can for its absence in the Talmud, but do not pretend that it is there, unless indeed in some vestiges. After these unfortunate statements the French Magus proceeds to consider the Mishna, and because it is divided into six books he allocates them to the six Sephiroth from KETHER to TIPHERETH inclusive. Book I is entitled Seeds and is referred to the Supreme Crown, in the “idea” of which is contained “that of the fructifying principle and universal production”. But this is nonsense, for it happens that in kabalistic metaphysics gentration resulted from the union of Chokmah and Binah. Book II “treats of sacred things in which nothing must be changed because they represent eternal order”: they belong therefore to Chokmah, which means Wisdom. Book III “treats of women and the family”; it is in correspondence with BINAH—otherwise Understanding—for the curious reason that this Sephira connects with “liberty or creative power”. Book IV deals with “crimes and their punishment”, and must answer therefore to GEBURAH = Severity, though the succession of Sephiroth is reversed in this manner. Book V is in analogy with Gedulah or CHESED = Mercy, being dedicated to “consoling beliefs and holy things”: they might be ascribed as reasonably to CHOKMAH, which is beneplacitum termino carens. In fine, Book VI is under the auspices of TIPHERETH or Beauty, (a) because it treats of purification, and (b) because it “contains the most hidden secrets of life and the morality which concerns it”. It should be added that the Mishna is a medley and the content of its various divisions is not sharply distinguished in the manner suggested.
1 See my translation of Lévi's History of Magic, second edition, pp. 366 et seq.
I A
THE CANDIDATE
DISCIPLINA ENSOPH KETHER1
WHEN a philosopher adopted as the basis for a new apocalypse of human wisdom the axiom: “I think, therefore I am”, in a measure he altered unconsciously, from the stand point of Christian Revelation, the old conception of the Supreme Being. I am that I am, said the Being of beings of Moses. I am he who thinks, says the man of Descartes, and to think being to speak inwardly, such a one may affirm, like the God of St John the Evangelist: I am he in whom and by whom the word manifests—In principio erat verbum. Now, what is this principle? It is a groundwork of speech, it is a reason for the existence of the word. The essence of the word is in the principle; the principle is that which is; intelligence is a principle which speaks. What further is intellectual light? It is speech. What is revelation? It is speech also, being is the principle, speech is the means, and the plenitude or development and perfection of being is the end. To speak is to create. But to say: “I think, therefore I exist”, is to argue from consequence to principle, and certain contradictions which have been adduced by a great writer, Lamennais, have proved abundantly the philosophical unsoundness of this method. I am, therefore something exists—might seem to be a more primitive and simple foundation for experimental philo sophy. I AM, THEREFORE BEING EXISTS. Ego Sum qui sum—such is the first revelation of God in man and of man in the world, while it is also the first axiom of occult philosophy. . Being is being. Hence this philosophy, having that which is for its principle, can be in no sense hypothesis or guesswork.
THE SIGN OF EXCOMMUNICATION
Mercurius Trismegistus begins his admirable symbol known under the name of the “Emerald Table,”1 by this threefold affirmation: “It is true, it is certain without error, it is of all truth.” Thus, in physics, the true confirmed by experience; in philosophy, certitude purged from any alloy of error; in the domain of religion or the infinite, absolute truth indicated by analogy: such are the first necessities of true science, and Magic only can impart these to its adepts.
But you, before all things, who are you, thus taking this work in your hands and proposing to read it? On the pediment of a temple consecrated by antiquity to the God of Light was an inscription of two words: “Know thyself.” I impress the same counsel on every man when he seeks to approach science. Magic, which the men of old denominated the SANCTUM REGNUM, the Holy Kingdom, or Kingdom of God, REGNUM DEI, exists only for kings and for priests. Are you priests? Are you kings? The priesthood of Magic is not a vulgar priesthood, and its royalty enters not into competition with the princes of this world. The monarchs of science are the priests of truth, and their sovereignty is hidden from the multitude, like their prayers and sacrifices. The kings of science are men who know the truth and them the truth has made free, according to the specific promise given by the most mighty of all initiators.
The man who is enslaved by his passions or worldly prejudices can be initiated in no wise; he must reform or he will never attain; meanwhile he ca
nnot be an adept, for this word signifies a person who has achieved by will and by work. The man who loves his own opinions and fears to part with them, who suspects new truths, who is unprepared to doubt everything rather than admit anything on chance, should close this book: for him it is useless and dangerous. He will fail to understand it, and it will trouble him, while if he should divine the meaning, there will be a still greater source of disquietude. If you hold by anything in the world more than by reason, truth and justice; if your will be uncertain and vacillating, either in good or evil; if logic alarm you, or the naked truth make you blush; if you are hurt when accepted errors are assailed; condemn this work straight away. Do not read it; let it cease to exist for you; but at the same time do not cry it down as dangerous. The secrets which it records will be understood by an elect few and will be reserved by those who understand them. Show light to the birds of the night-time, and you hide their light; it is the light which blinds them and for them is darker than darkness. It follows that I shall speak clearly and make known everything, with the firm conviction that initiates alone, or those who deserve initiation, will read all and understand in part.
There is a true and a false science, a Divine and an Infernal Magic—in other words, one which is delusive and tenebrous.1 It is our task to reveal the one and to unveil the other, to distinguish the magician from the sorcerer and the adept from the charlatan. The magician avails himself of a force which he knows, the sorcerer seeks to misuse that which he does not understand. If it be possible in a scientific work to employ a term so vulgar and so discredited, then the devil gives himself to the magician and the sorcerer gives himself to the devil. The magician is the sovereign pontiff of Nature, the sorcerer is her profaner only. The sorcerer is in the same relation to the magician that a superstitious and fanatical person bears to a truly religious man.
Before proceeding further, let us define Magic in a sentence. Magic is the traditional science of the secrets of Nature which has been transmitted to us from the Magi. By means of this science the adept is invested with a species of relative omnipotence and can operate superhumanly— that is, after a manner which transcends the normal possibility of men. Thereby many illustrious hierophants, such as Mercurius Trismegistus, Osiris, Orpheus, Apollonius of Tyana, and others whom it might be dangerous or unwise to name, came after their death to be adored and invoked as gods.1 Thereby others also—according to that ebb-and flow of opinion which is responsible for the caprices of success—became emissaries of infernus or suspected adven turers, like the Emperor Julian, Apuleius, the enchanter Merlin and that arch-sorcerer, as he was termed in his day, the illustrious and unfortunate Cornelius Agrippa.
To attain the Sanctum Regnum, in other words, the knowledge and power of the Magi, there are four indis pensable conditions—an intelligence illuminated by study, an intrepidity which nothing can check, a will which cannot be broken, and a prudence which nothing can corrupt and nothing intoxicate. To know, to dare, to will, to keep silence —such are the four words of the Magus, inscribed upon the four symbolical forms of the sphinx2. These maxims can be combined after four manners and explained four times by one another.
On the first page of the Book of Hermes the adept is depicted with a large hat, which, if turned down, would conceal his entire head. One hand is raised towards heaven, which he seems to command with his wand, while the other is placed upon his breast; before him are the chief symbols or instruments of science, and he has others hidden in a juggler's wallet. His body and arms form the letter Aleph, the first of that alphabet which the Jews borrowed from the Egyptians: to this symbol we shall have occasion to recur later on.
The Magus is truly that which the Hebrew Kabalists term MICROPROSOPUS —otherwise, the creator of the little world. The first of all magical sciences being the knowledge of one's self, so is one's own creation first of all works of science; it comprehends the others and is the beginning of the Great Work. The expression, however, requires explanation. Supreme Reason being the sole invariable and conse quently imperishable principle—and death, as we call it, being change—it follows that the intelligence which cleaves closely to this principle and in a manner identifies itself therewith, does hereby make itself unchangeable and as a result immortal. To cleave invariably to reason it will be understood that it is necessary to attain independence of all those forces which by their fatal and inevitable operation produce the alternatives of life and death. To know how to suffer, to forbear and co die—such are the first secrets which place us beyond reach of affliction, the desires of the flesh and the fear of annihilation. The man who seeks and finds a glorious death has faith in immortality and universal humanity believes in it with him and for him, raising altars and statues to his memory in token of eternal life.
Man becomes king of the brutes only by subduing or taming them: otherwise he will be their victim or slave. Brutes are the type of our passions; they are the instinctive forces of Nature. The world is a field of battle, where liberty struggles with inertia by the opposition of active force. Physical laws are millstones; if you cannot be the miller you must be the grain. You are called to be king of air, water, earth and fire; but to reign over these four living creatures of symbolism, it is necessary to conquer and enchain them. He who aspires to be a sage and to know the Great Enigma of Nature must be the heir and despoiler of the sphinx: his the human head, in order to possess speech; his the eagle's wings, in order to scale the heights; his the bull's flanks, in order to furrow the depths; his the lion's talons, to make a way on the right and the left, before and behind.
You therefore who seek initiation, are you learned as Faust? Are you insensible as Job? No, is it not so? But you may become like unto both if you choose. Have you overcome the vortices of vague thoughts? Are you without indecision or capriciousness? Do you consent to pleasure only when you will, and do you wish for it only when vou should? No, is it not so? Not at least invariably, but this may come to pass if you choose. The sphinx has not only a man's head, it has woman's breasts; do you know how to resist feminine charms? No, is it not so? And you laugh outright in replying, parading your moral weakness for the glorification of your physical and vital force. Be it so: I allow you to render this homage to the ass of Sterne or Apuleius. The ass has its merit, I agree; it was consecrated to Priapus as was the goat to the god of Mendes. But take it for what it is worth, and decide whether ass or man shall be master. He alone can possess truly the pleasure of love who has conquered the love of pleasure. To be able and to forbear is to be twice able. Woman enchains you by your desires; master your desires and you will enchain her. The greatest injury that can be inflicted on a man is to call him a coward. Now, what is a cowardly person? One who neglects his moral dignity in order to obey blindly the instincts of Nature. As a fact, in the presence of danger it is natural to be afraid and seek flight: why, then, is it shameful? Because honour has erected it into a law that we must prefer our duty to our inclinations or fears. What is honour from this point of view? It is a universal presentience of immortality and appreciation of the means which can lead to it. The last trophy which a man can win from death is to triumph over the appetite for life, not by despair but by a more exalted hope, which is contained in faith, for all that is noble and honest, by the undivided consent of the world. To learn self-conquest is therefore to learn life, and the austerities of stoicism were no vain parade of freedom! To yield to the forces of Nature is to follow the stream of collective life and to be the slave of secondary causes. To resist and subdue Nature is to make for one's self a personal and imperishable life: it is to break free from the vicissitudes of life and death. Every man who is prepared to die rather than renounce truth and justice is most truly living, for immortality abides in his soul. To find or to form such men was the end of all ancient initiations. Pythagoras disciplined his pupils by silence and all kinds of self-denial; candidates in Egypt were tried by the four elements; and we know the self-inflicted austerities of fakirs and brahmans in India for attaining
the kingdom of free will and divine independence. All macerations of asceticism are borrowed from the initiations of the Ancient Mysteries; they have ceased because those qualified for initiation, no longer finding initiators, and the leaders of conscience becoming in the lapse of time as uninstructed as the vulgar, the blind have grown weary of following the blind, and no one has cared to pass through ordeals the end of which was only in doubt and despair: the path of light was lost. To succeed in performing something we must know that which it is proposed to do, or at least must have faith in someone who does know it. But shall I stake my life on a venture, or follow someone at chance who himself cannot see where he is going?