Eliphas Levi - Dogma Et Rituel Part II.pdf

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Transcendental Magic, Part II

Eliphas Levi

Dogma et Rituel

de la

Haute Magie

Translated by A. E. Waite

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Dogme et Rituel de la Haute Magie

Part II: The Ritual of Transcendental Magic

By Eliphas Levi (Alphonse Louis Constant)

Translated by A. E. Waite.

Originally published by Rider & Company, England, 1896.

Transcribed and converted to Adobe Acrobat format by Benjamin Rowe, January,

2002.

Typeset in Bauer Bodoni, Goudy Text, and Waters Titling.

Pa rt I I :

The Ritual of

Transcendental

Magic

The Sabbatic Goat

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INTRODUCTION

K NOWEST thou that old queen of the world who is on the march always and wea-

ries never? Every uncurbed passion, every selfish pleasure, every licentious energy

of humanity, and all its tyrannous weakness, go before the sordid mistress of our

tearful valley, and, scythe in hand, these indefatigable labourers reap their eternal

harvest. That queen is old as time, but her skeleton is concealed in the wreckage

of women's beauty, which she abstracts from their youth and love. Her skull is

adorned with lifeless tresses that are not her own. Spoliator of crowned heads, she

is embellished with the plunder of queens, from the star-begemmed hair of

Berenice to that-white, but not with age-which the executioner sheared from the

brow of Marie Antoinette. Her livid and frozen body is clothed in faded garments

and tattered winding-sheets. Her bony hands, covered with rings, hold diadems

and chains, scepters and crossbones, jewels and ashes. When she goes by, doors

open of themselves; she passes through walls; she penetrates to the cabinets of

kings; she surprises the extortioners of the poor in their most secret orgies; she sits

down at their board, pours out their wine, grins at their songs with her gumless

teeth, takes the place of the lecherous courtesan hidden behind their curtains. She

delights to hover about sleeping voluptuaries; she seeks their caresses, as if she

hoped to grow warm in their embrace; but she freezes all those whom she touches

and herself never kindles. At times, notwithstanding, one would think her seized

with frenzy; she stalks slowly no longer; she runs; if her feet are too slow, she

spurs a pale horse and charges all breathless through multitudes. Murder rides

with her on a russet charger; shaking his mane of smoke, fire flies before her with

wings of scarlet and black; famine and plague follow on diseased and emaciated

steeds, gleaning the few sheaves which remain to complete her harvest.

After this funereal procession come two little children, radiating with smiles

and life, the intelligence and love of the coming century, the dual genius of a new-

born humanity. The shadows of death fold up before them, as does night before

the morning star; with nimble feet they skim the earth and sow with full hands

the hope of another year. But death will come no more, impiteous and terrible, to

mow like dry grass the ripe blades of the new age; it will give place to the angel of

progress, who will gently liberate souls from mortal chains, so that they may

ascend to God. When men know how to live they will die no longer; they will

transform like the chrysalis, which becomes a splendid butterfly. The terrors of

death are daughters of ignorance, and death herself is only hideous by reason of

the rubbish which covers her, and the sombre hues with which her images are sur-

rounded. Death, truly, is the birth-pang of life. There is a force in Nature which

dieth not, and this force perpetually transforms beings to preserve them. It is the

reason or word of Nature. In man also there is a force analogous to that of Nature,

and it is the reason or word of man. The word of man is the expression of his will

1

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